"I've
bought some decent clothes, and will look fitter in them than I do
in these togs. Don't I look bally in them?"
"I not sabe 'bally,' me," answered the Indian.
The pink King Georgeman looked puzzled.
"He means he doesn't understand what 'bally' is," explained Banty.
Con laughed. "Tell him that _I'm_ 'bally,' in these clothes; he'll grasp
then what a fearful thing 'bally' means."
It was that remark, "poking fun" at his own appearance, that thoroughly
won Banty's loyalty to his cousin from over seas. A chap that could
openly laugh and jeer at his own peculiarities must surely be a good
sort, so forthwith Banty pitched in heart and soul to arrange all kinds
of excursions and adventures, and The Eena planned and suggested, until
it seemed that all the weeks stretching out into the holiday months were
to be one long round of sport and pleasure in honor of the lanky King
Georgeman, who was so anxious to fall easily into the ways of the West.
Just as The Eena predicted, Con proved an able fisherman and excellent
"trailsman." He could stay in the saddle for hours, could go without
food or sleep, had the endurance of a horse and the good nature of a big
romping kitten.
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