p the
mesa. But she did not know until that moment how the habit of watching
for him at this hour had grown upon her. He rode along the rim of the
mesa and out to the point, where, against the golden background, horse
and rider stood silhouetted in bold relief.

"What's he doing there? Who is he?" inquired the curious Helen.

"That is Stewart, my right-hand man," replied Madeline. "Every day when
he is at the ranch he rides up there at sunset. I think he likes the
ride and the scene; but he goes to take a look at the cattle in the
valley."

"Is he a cowboy?" asked Helen.

"Indeed yes!" replied Madeline, with a little laugh. "You will think so
when Stillwell gets hold of you and begins to talk."

Madeline found it necessary to explain who Stillwell was, and what he
thought of Stewart, and, while she was about it, of her own accord she
added a few details of Stewart's fame.

"El Capitan. How interesting!" mused Helen. "What does he look like?"

"He is superb."

Florence handed the field-glass to Helen and bade her look.

"Oh, thank you!" said Helen, as she complied. "There. I see him. Indeed,
he is superb. What a magnificent horse! How still he stands! Why, he
seems carved in stone."

"Let me look?" said Dorothy Coombs, eagerly.

Helen gave her the glass.

"You can look, Dot, but that's all. He's mine. I saw him first."

Whereupon Madeline's feminine guests held a spirited contest over
the field-glass, and three of them made gay, bantering boasts not to
consider Helen's self-asserted rights. Madeline laughed with the others
while she watched the dark figure of Stewart and his black outline
against the sky. There came over her a thought not by any means new or
strange--she wondered what was in Stewart's mind as he stood there in
the solitude and faced the desert and the darkening west. Some day she
meant to ask him. Presently he turned the horse and rode down into the
shadow creeping up the mesa.

"Majesty, have you planned any fun, any excitement for us?" asked Helen.
She was restless, nervous, and did not seem to be able to sit still a
moment.

"You will think so when I get through with you," replied Madeline.

"What, for instance?" inquired Helen and Dot and Mrs. Beck, in unison.
Edith Wayne smiled her interest.

"Well, I am not counting rides and climbs and golf; but these are
necessary to train you for trips over into Arizona. I want to show you
the desert and the Aravaipa Canyon. We have to go o