thet this year will beat '49 an' '51. An' fer two reasons. There's a
steady stream of broken an' disappointed gold-seekers back-trailin'
from California. There's a bigger stream of hopeful an' crazy
fortune hunters travelin' in from the East. Then there's the wimmen
an' gamblers an' such thet hang on. An' last the men thet the war is
drivin' out here. Whenever an' wherever these streams meet, if
there's a big gold strike, there'll be the hellishest time the world
ever saw!"

"Boys," said Kells, with a ring in his weak voice, "it'll be a
harvest for my Border Legion."

"Fer what?" queried Bate Wood, curiously.

All the others except Gulden turned inquiring and interested faces
toward the bandit.

"The Border Legion," replied Kells.

"An' what's that?" asked Red Pearce, bluntly.

"Well, if the time's ripe for the great gold fever you say is
coming, then it's ripe for the greatest band ever organized. I'll
organize. I'll call it the Border Legion."

"Count me in as right-hand, pard," replied Red, with enthusiasm.

"An' shore me, boss," added Bate Wood.

The idea was received vociferously, at which demonstration the giant