sooner or later your story
will be on everybody's tongue. You'll be Dandy Dale as long as you
live near this border. Wear the mask, just for fun. Imagine your Aunt
Jane--and everybody!"

"Jim! I'd forgotten how I look!" exclaimed Joan in dismay. "I didn't
bring your long coat. Oh, I can't face them in this suit!"

"You'll have to. Besides, you look great. It's going to tickle me--the
sensation you make. Don't you see, they'll never recognize you till you
take the mask off.... Please, Joan."

She yielded, and donned the black mask, not without a twinge. And thus
they rode across the log bridge over the creek into the village. The few
men and women they met stared in wonder, and, recognizing Cleve, they
grew excited. They followed, and others joined them.

"Joan, won't it be strange if Uncle Bill really is the Overland of Alder
Creek? We've packed out every pound of Overland's gold. Oh! I hope--I
believe he's your uncle.... Wouldn't it be great, Joan?"

But Joan could not answer. The word gold was a stab. Besides, she saw
Aunt Jane and two neighbors standing before a log cabin, beginning to
show signs of interest in the approaching procession.

Joan fell back a little, trying to screen herself behind Jim. Then Jim
halted with a cheery salute.

"For the land's sake!" ejaculated a sweet-faced, gray-haired woman.

"If it isn't Jim Cleve!" cried another.

Jim jumped off and hugged the first speaker. She seemed overjoyed to see
him and then overcome. Her face began to work.

"Jim! We always hoped you'd--you'd fetch Joan back!"

"Sure!" shouted Jim, who had no heart now for even an instant's
deception. "There she is!"

"Who?... What?"

Joan slipped out of her saddle and, tearing off the mask, she leaped
forward with a little sob.

"Auntie! Auntie!... It's Joan--alive--well!... Oh, so glad to be
home!... Don't look at my clothes--look at me!"

Aunt Jane evidently sustained a shock of recognition, joy, amaze,
consternation, and shame, of which all were subservient to the joy.
She cried over Joan and murmured over her. Then, suddenly alive to the
curious crowd, she put Joan from her.

"You--you wild thing! You desperado! I always told Bill you'd run wild
some day!... March in the house and get out of that indecent rig!"

That night under the spruces, with the starlight piercing the lacy
shadows, Joan waited for Jim Cleve. It was one of the white, silent,
mountain nights. The brook murmured over the stones and