delight. She
could _dress as a man_ and ride as a man and be absolutely safe on the
journey! She knew a dozen unusual arts for dying the skin and
concealing the hair and making the hands look rough. Make-up in
private theatricals, at professional hands, she had learned with
exceptional thoroughness.

She would need a suit of kahki, miners' books, a soft, big hat, and
flannel shirt. They were all to be had at the store. She could order
her horse to be saddled for a man. She could readily dress and escape
unseen from the house. In a word, she could do the trick!

The plan possessed her utterly. It sent her blood bounding through her
veins. Her face was flushed with excitement. She loved adventure--and
this would be something to do!

Nevertheless, despite all her plans, she had no real intention of
attempting a scheme so mad. Subconsciously she confessed to herself it
was just the merest idle fancy, not a thing to be actually ventured, or
even entertained.

That night, when she was more beset, more worried than before, however,
desperation was increasing upon her. The plan she had made no longer
seemed the mere caprice of one in pursuit of pleasure--it appeared to
be the only possible respite from conditions no longer to be borne.

When the morning came, after a night of mental torture and bodily fear,
her patience had been strained to the point of breaking, and resolve
was steeling her courage.

The word that should have come from Searle was still delinquent. But
old Billy Stitts brought her a letter from Glen.

"Dear Sis: I can only write a line or two. Had a thump on the head,
but it didn't knock off my block. Don't worry. All right in a few
days, sure. Guess you couldn't come, or you'd be here, in response to
my last. But Searle might show up, anyhow. You can write me now.
Hope you're well and happy. Is the brigand still on the job? Can't
really write. With love, GLEN."

Her heart stood still as she; read her brother's lines, in a scrawled
hand indicative of weakness. She resolved in that instant to go.

"Mr. Stitts," she raid in remarkable calm, for all that she felt, "my
brother needs some clothing--everything complete, boots, shirts, and
all. He's just about my size. I wish you'd go and buy them."

"Lord, I know the best and the cheapest in camp!" said Billy eagerly.
"I'll have 'em here before you can write him your letter--but the stage
don't go back till Friday."

Sh