s the weaker. Caddies may coach, and perhaps expert
advice is all that is necessary for your team to defeat Monty's."

"A grand idee," declared Stillwell, with instant decision. "When can we
have this match game?"

"Why, to-day--this afternoon. We'll all ride out to the links."

"Wal, I reckon I'll be some indebted to you, Miss Majesty, an' all your
guests," replied Stillwell, warmly. He rose with sombrero in hand, and a
twinkle in his eye that again prompted Madeline to wonder. "An' now I'll
be goin' to fix up for the game of cowboy gol-lof. Adios."

The idea was as enthusiastically received by Madeline's guests as it had
been by Stillwell. They were highly amused and speculative to the
point of taking sides and making wagers on their choice. Moreover, this
situation so frankly revealed by Stillwell had completed their deep
mystification. They were now absolutely nonplussed by the singular
character of American cowboys. Madeline was pleased to note how
seriously they had taken the old cattleman's story. She had a little
throb of wild expectancy that made her both fear and delight in the
afternoon's prospect.

The June days had set in warm; in fact, hot during the noon hours: and
this had inculcated in her insatiable visitors a tendency to profit
by the experience of those used to the Southwest. They indulged in the
restful siesta during the heated term of the day.

Madeline was awakened by Majesty's well-known whistle and pounding on
the gravel. Then she heard the other horses. When she went out she found
her party assembled in gala golf attire, and with spirits to match their
costumes. Castleton, especially, appeared resplendent in a golf coat
that beggared description. Madeline had faint misgivings when she
reflected on what Monty and Nels and Nick might do under the influence
of that blazing garment.

"Oh. Majesty," cried Helen, as Madeline went up to her horse, "don't
make him kneel! Try that flying mount. We all want to see it. It's so
stunning."

"But that way, too, I must have him kneel," said Madeline, "or I can't
reach the stirrup. He's so tremendously high."

Madeline had to yield to the laughing insistence of her friends, and
after all of them except Florence were up she made Majesty go down on
one knee. Then she stood on his left side, facing back, and took a good
firm grip on the bridle and pommel and his mane. After she had slipped
the toe of her boot firmly into the stirrup she called to Majest