The wager of a kiss was prettily paid. This much of the
drama he knew. And there was an affecting final scene on a hillside.
The actor, arrayed in chaps, spurs, and boots below the waist was,
above this, in faultless evening dress. "You see, it's a masquerade
party at the ranche," Baird explained, "and you've thought up this
costume to sort of puzzle the little lady."
The girl herself was in the short, fringed buckskin skirt, with
knife and revolvers in her belt. Off in the hills day after day she
had worn this costume in those active scenes he had not witnessed.
Now she was merely coy. He followed her out on the hillside with
only a little trouble from the spurs--indeed he fell but once as he
approached her--and the little drama of the lovers, at last united,
was touchingly shown.
In the background, as they stood entwined, the poor demented old
mother was seen. With mop and bucket she was cleansing the side of a
cliff, but there was a happier look on the worn old face.
"Glance around and see her," railed Baird. "Then explain to the girl
that you will always protect your mother, no matter what happens.
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