s long. Link, partial to leather, had, since he became Madeline's
chauffeur, taken to leather altogether. He carried no weapon, but Monty
wore a huge gun-sheath and gun. Link smoked a cigarette and looked
coolly impudent. Monty was dark-faced, swaggering, for all the world
like a barbarian chief.

"That Monty makes my flesh creep," said Helen, low-voiced. "Really,
Mr. Stillwell, is he so bad--desperate--as I've heard? Did he ever kill
anybody?"

"Sure. 'Most as many as Nels," replied Stillwell, cheerfully.

"Oh! And is that nice Mr. Nels a desperado, too? I wouldn't have thought
so. He's so kind and old-fashioned and soft-voiced."

"Nels is sure an example of the dooplicity of men, Miss Helen. Don't
you listen to his soft voice. He's really as bad as a side-winder
rattlesnake."

At this juncture Monty and Link reached the teeing-ground, and Stillwell
went out to meet them. The other cowboys pressed forward to surround the
trio. Madeline heard Stillwell's voice, and evidently he was explaining
that his team was to have skilled advice during the play. Suddenly there
came from the center of the group a loud, angry roar that broke off as
suddenly. Then followed excited voices all mingled together. Presently
Monty appeared, breaking away from restraining hands, and he strode
toward Madeline.

Monty Price was a type of cowboy who had never been known to speak to
a woman unless he was first addressed, and then he answered in blunt,
awkward shyness. Upon this great occasion, however, it appeared that
he meant to protest or plead with Madeline, for he showed stress of
emotion. Madeline had never gotten acquainted with Monty. She was a
little in awe, if not in fear, of him, and now she found it imperative
for her to keep in mind that more than any other of the wild fellows on
her ranch this one should be dealt with as if he were a big boy.

Monty removed his sombrero--something he had never done before--and the
single instant when it was off was long enough to show his head entirely
bald. This was one of the hall-marks of that terrible Montana prairie
fire through which he had fought to save the life of a child. Madeline
did not forget it, and all at once she wanted to take Monty's side.
Remembering Stillwell's wisdom, however, she forebore yielding to
sentiment, and called upon her wits.

"Miss--Miss Hammond," began Monty, stammering, "I'm extendin' admirin'
greetin's to you an' your friends. Link an' me are right down