“Why, what’ll we do for lights and fires?” “I hope you don’t mean to say that you would dream of taking _matches_,” said Bart, in a voice of solemn rebuke. “Why not?” “Why not? Who ever heard of matches in an Encampment of Knights? No, boys, flint and steel is the thing for us. That’s what I’ve got; and I’ve made some first-rate tinder, and a lot of sulphur lights. Besides, I’ve got something to surprise you.” “What’s that?” “The dresses.” “Dresses?” “Yes; come to my room, and I’ll show you what I’ve got. It wouldn’t do for us to go out and be brigands in ordinary jackets and trousers, I hope. Why,” he concluded, in a tone of rebuke, “it would be infamous.” “And have you got any dresses in your room?” said Bruce.’ “Yes; come along and take a look at them.” Off went the five with a shout, and going up a flight of stairs, they soon entered Bart Darner’s room. Here Bart brought out a bundle from the bed-room, and opening it, he proudly displayed its contents. There were five red shirts, each of which had a huge white cross on the back; five belts; and five felt hats, each of which was decorated with a feather. As he displayed these articles one by one, the boys were struck dumb with admiration, while Bart’s eyes glowed with delight. “Don’t say anything,” said he, “but try them on.” Bart locked the door carefully, and then they all arrayed themselves in the new costume. Soon five figures stood there with their red shirts and plunged hats, looking like so many juvenile Garibaldians. “You see, these belts will do first rate for pistols, and daggers, and that sort of thing,” said Bart. The other boys said nothing. Astonishment and delight deprived them of words; but each stood looking, first at himself, and then at his companions, in mute admiration. “But how in the world did you manage it, Bart? Where did you get them all?” asked Tom Crawford. “O, I found the shirts down in Brown’s,” said Bart, “and picked out the smallest ones. I had them altered, and got Maggie Lunt to sew on the crosses. I begged some old ostrich feathers from. Mrs. Porter, and of course the hats could be got anywhere. They’re rather large, but we can put bits of paper inside the lining, you know, and make them fit well enough. They’ll do for the woods.” “Do for the woods!” cried Bruce Rawdon. “I should think they would, and for other places, too. Boys, don’t let’s hide our light under a bushel. I move that we have a grand procession at once.” “Yes, yes,” cried all. “Let’s go down now. The fellows are all out on the grounds.” “How they’ll stare!” cried Phil. “The ‘B. O. W. C.’ will become more famous than ever,” said Tom Crawford. “Come, then,” said Arthur, “let us go down now.” “No,” said Bart. “That would spoil all.” “Why, don’t you want the ‘B. O. W. C.’ to show themselves?”