he said. "Joe's sister. She's ex- pecting us back in South Bend in a couple of weeks with money from our performances." By the pained look on his young face, Rip guessed that she was a little more to Monty then just 'Joe's sister'.

"Well, we'll bury Blake," Rip said, "out of the Merchants' As- sociation funds." Lewis shot him a look of gratitude. “But I can't help you out more, you know. I just can't be a handout for every guy who loses his wad in the sa- loons. Word would get around," he added, as the younger man looked about to object. "Why don't you try the Diggings?"

"Me?" Lewis smiled for the first time in days, a smile direc- ted at himself.

―

Hassell studied the slim figure in his well tailored, grey suit, white linen shirt, diamond tie pin, and diamonds in his cuff links the 'gems' must have been paste, of course. No, this little guy, he thought, wouldn't last the day in the rough world of the Diggings.

"Well, if you want to earn it," Hassell said, a note of finality in his voice, "you can try out some of your new routines in the Sa- loon. I'll pay you the same rate as before, even though I haven't auditioned you."

"They were all two-man sket- ches," said Lewis despairingly.

"So," Hassell blew a few cir- cles of blue smoke towards the ceiling. "Well, I guess I can't help you."

"There was just the one," Le- wis was doubtful. Hassell raised both eyebrows. "But it was a parody of dance hall singers."

"You wear that red dress?" asked Hassell, sending another smoke ring to chase the others.

"Yes," said Lewis nervously. "Amongst other things.

Hassell nodded. "Should give the boys a thrill," he said. "Most

haven't seen a woman, not even

a man disguised as one, in

months."

Lewis swallowed. "But, will they do what they did last time to our act?" he asked plaintively. "They've done a lot worse,' said Hassell grimly which didn't help Monty Lewis' confidence at all.

The pianist, Ben Grimes, knew the material that Monty Lewis wanted to use. Hassell had decid- ed to do the introduction himself at least to give Lewis a chance to make out the week. He'd looked very odd in the dressing room, thick, false lashes and dark make- up on his eyes, his face white with powder and his lips a paint- ed red bow. Hassell had felt ri- diculous hitching tightly the waist cincher about Lewis' al- ready thin waist. He'd left him to it then, after agreeing on the title of the sketch with the young

man.

"Alright, guys!" he shouted into the bar's usual hubbub. A few guys gave him a cursory look but to most, he made no differ- ence. "Here's a new act for you!' he bawled. "A female imperson- ator in a sketch called, The Dance Hall Queen." He raised his voice even more. "Here she is, guys, the one and only, Lily Dupree!"

Ben Grimes began on the pi- ano, his back to the little stage which Hassell had quickly vacat- ed. As Hassell turned, he was stunned by the apparition on his little stage. Throughout the bar, the uproar died and all heads turned to the stage.

Lily Dupree did a little pirou- ette on her black, high-heeled slippers, pouting at the audience over a bare shoulder. The black and red dress that Rip had seen came only to mid-calf and swirl-

ed as Lily moved to reveal the black straps over her shoulders, leaving her arms and back bare. Her silhouette, which must have been padded extensively, was the hourglass figure of every man's private dreams. The soft blonde hair that covered her forehead in gentle bangs, and cascaded down over her earrings to her shoulders destroyed completely the incon- gruous image that Rip had had in his mind based on the help he'd given Monty to dress.

Lily began to sing, in a throaty husky voice, a ridiculous bar- room drinking song that every- one knew. She accompanied the song with wildly exaggerated fe- male gestures. Rip stared at her, as spellbound as the others. He'd forgotten just how soft, seduc- tive and attractive a good-looking woman could be. But this was Monty Lewis, he remembered and snapped out of his trance.

The other men hadn't, how- ever. They just stared dumbly at the personification of woman- hood in front of them. When she broke into a second song, wrap- ping and unwrapping herself in a feathery boa, there was almost an audible sigh in the enraptured audience.

It struck Rip forcefully that his announcement had been com- pletely missed. The men in the crowd were reacting to 'Lily' as if she were indeed the first wo- man they had ever seen, as 'she' was. They were practically drool- ing over each other and edging closer and closer to the stage.

Lily's last routine included several tantalizing flicks at her skirt to show the audience the black and pink petticoats be- neath her dress. The lyrics she was singing slightly off-key, were humourous if you listened to them, but, as Rip could see clearly, no-one was listening to lyrics at all. Their eyes were too busy devouring the narrow waist,