the firm, round bosoms, the tight, narrow cleavage and the soft, alluring skin. She finished the routine with a little Spanish dancing and had skipped from the stage before the last note on the piano sounded. Rip doubted that she heard much of the ap- plause that swelled and rippled out after Lily had left.

He pushed forwards up onto the stage and waved both hands over his head. There was a pound ing of feet and a whistling then which startled Rip. He realized that it was for him. They think I've broken the Company's law and smuggled a girl in, he thought.

"O.K., guys!" he yelled. "Lily will perform again tomorrow! Tell all your friends! Now let's drink up and watch Charlie Thompson and Claude!"

He went quickly back to the dressing room, leaving the ven- triloquist to try and compete with the excited babble of voices from the saloon.

The blonde was seated in front of the mirror, head down on her hands, with their bright red, painted fingernails. She looked up as Rip entered the room clos- ing the door behind him. With a tired hand, she reached up, pushed back the wig to show the dark hairline below, and then re- moved it to become a ludicrously painted Monty Lewis again.

"I'm sorry," he said wearily to Hassell. "They didn't laugh at even one of the jokes. I'll pack and try the Mine Company to- morrow. Perhaps there's some- thing clerical "His voice trailed off as Rip Hassell began to smile broadly.

·

"No such thing," said Hassell. "They loved Lily out there. Didn't you hear that applause at the end of your show? Just you see, we'll have a sellout tomor- row. We'll have every miner in the Diggings in here to see Lily."

He was becoming more and more enthusiastic as he spoke.

""

"But... but . Monty Lewis' makeup showed cracks a- bout his eyes.

"They think you're really a woman," said Hassell. "So we'd better not disappoint them. Just think what an angry mob of min- ers could do if they knew they'd been tricked. We'll have to be careful getting you up to your room, too. We're likely to be spied upon."

Business the following night was every bit as good as Hassell had gleefully predicted. Several men came by just to ask Rip pointedly where he was hiding Lily. “You'll find out, boys," he laughed. "You'll find out."

Despite Monty Lewis' agita- tion, Rip had finally persuaded him to repeat the act of the night before. He'd also passed along two of the sketches Monty thought were very good to Char- lie Thompson to learn. Just one other song from Lily, sung straight without the acting would serve as a good appetizer for the 'big' show Rip was planning for the weekend.

By then, word of Rip Hassell's 'woman' would have reached South Bend and he could expect a visit from the marshals by this day next week. Monty Lewis hadn't been told, but he'd only a week to endure the ogling and leering of women-starved men. He was ready, but anxious, when Hassell called on him again in his dressing room. He was laced up tightly again but Charlie Thompson had helped Lily this time, without even a hint as to Monty's true identity, so well was he made up and so authentic was his hairpiece.

"Well, Lily," it seemed strange calling him that, but Thompson

25

was listening. "Here we go again' said Rip, escorting the blonde to the 'wings' of the tiny stage.

Lily Dupree nodded. Her eye- lids were fluttering nervously and she looked about to faint. But she didn't, and her performance was equally stunning to the all- male audience, as on the previous night. With her final flounce, she caught her skirts this time and in the cascade of pink and black petticoats, many men were able to catch a glimpse of her slender, black-stockinged thighs. She wait- ed too, in the wings this time for the roar of the applause to sub- side, and let her boss accompany her back to her dressing room.

"You can just do the other thing about two hours from now. said Hassell", beaming from ear to ear. "So, can I get you some- thing from the bar?"

"Bourbon," Lily said in a soft voice, reminiscent of Monty.

Rip had a hard time obtaining the drink. All the regulars want- ed to talk to him about Lily. Some wanted to buy her drinks, and Old Bob Tate guessed that Rip was taking the tray to sup- ply her himself. "Come on, Rip," he snuffled, waving the bill at the saloon-owner. "It's your'n if'n yer lemme carry'n t’Lily.

It took a while but finally even Old Bob got the message and Rip was able to escape through the side door, now kept locked, and get back to Lily's dressing room.

"Sorry I'm so late," he said, setting the drinks down on the table. "All the boys want you out there, so that they can buy one for you."

He turned from setting down the tray. Lily had changed - her hair, her dress, everything about her. The raven-haired wig stood up in a mass of twisted braids and curls, a foot above her fore- head. Yet the fringe and the kiss curls effectively hid any attempt