e, and now he hate
me like he hate Senor Gene."

"Pat Hawe won't put you in jail. Take my horse and hit the Peloncillo
trail. Bonita, promise to stay away from El Cajon."

"Si, Senor."

He led her outside. Madeline heard the horse snort and champ his bit.
The cowboy spoke low; only a few words were intelligible--"stirrups...
wait... out of town... mountain... trail ... now ride!"

A moment's silence ensued, and was broken by a pounding of hoofs, a
pattering of gravel. Then Madeline saw a big, dark horse run into the
wide space. She caught a glimpse of wind-swept scarf and hair, a little
form low down in the saddle. The horse was outlined in black against the
line of dim lights. There was something wild and splendid in his flight.

Directly the cowboy appeared again in the doorway.

"Miss Hammond, I reckon we want to rustle out of here. Been bad
goings-on. And there's a train due."

She hurried into the open air, not daring to look back or to either
side. Her guide strode swiftly. She had almost to run to keep up with
him. Many conflicting emotions confused her. She had a strange sense of
this stalking giant beside her, silent except for his jangling spurs.
She had a strange feeling of the cool, sweet wind and the white stars.
Was it only her disordered fancy, or did these wonderful stars open and
shut? She had a queer, disembodied thought that somewhere in ages back,
in another life, she had seen these stars. The night seemed dark,
yet there was a pale, luminous light--a light from the stars--and she
fancied it would always haunt her.

Suddenly aware that she had been led beyond the line of houses, she
spoke:

"Where are you taking me?"

"To Florence Kingsley," he replied.

"Who is she?"

"I reckon she's your brother's best friend out here." Madeline kept pace
with the cowboy for a few moments longer, and then she stopped. It was
as much from necessity to catch her breath as it was from recurring
fear. All at once she realized what little use her training had been for
such an experience as this. The cowboy, missing her, came back the few
intervening steps. Then he waited, still silent, looming beside her.

"It's so dark, so lonely," she faltered. "How do I know... what warrant
can you give me that you--that no harm will befall me if I go farther?"

"None, Miss Hammond, except that I've seen your face."

II. A Secret Kept

Because of that singular reply Madeline found faith to go farther with
t