how awful an ordeal she must have had. Why, she's one of the most
beautiful, the most sought after, the most exclusive women in New York
City. There's a crowd of millionaires and lords and dukes after her.
How terrible it'd be for a woman like her to be kissed by a drunken
cowpuncher! I say it--"

"Flo, I never insulted her that way," broke out Stewart.

"It was worse, then?" she queried, sharply.

"I made a bet that I'd marry the first girl who came to town. I was on
the watch and pretty drunk. When she came--well, I got Padre Marcos and
tried to bully her into marrying me."

"Oh, Lord!" Florence gasped. "It's worse than I feared.... Gene, Al will
kill you."

"That'll be a good thing," replied the cowboy, dejectedly.

"Gene Stewart, it certainly would, unless you turn over a new leaf,"
retorted Florence. "But don't be a fool." And here she became
earnest and appealing. "Go away, Gene. Go join the rebels across the
border--you're always threatening that. Anyhow, don't stay here and run
any chance of stirring Al up. He'd kill you just the same as you would
kill another man for insulting your sister. Don't make trouble for Al.
That'd only make sorrow for her, Gene."

The subtle import was not lost upon Madeline. She was distressed because
she could not avoid hearing what was not meant for her ears. She made an
effort not to listen, and it was futile.

"Flo, you can't see this a man's way," he replied, quietly. "I'll stay
and take my medicine."

"Gene, I could sure swear at you or any other pig-head of a cowboy.
Listen. My brother-in-law, Jack, heard something of what I said to you
last night. He doesn't like you. I'm afraid he'll tell Al. For Heaven's
sake, man, go down-town and shut him up and yourself, too."

Then Madeline heard her come into the house and presently rap on the
door and call softly:

"Miss Hammond. Are you awake?"

"Awake and dressed, Miss Kingsley. Come in."

"Oh! You've rested. You look so--so different. I'm sure glad. Come out
now. We'll have breakfast, and then you may expect to meet your brother
any moment."

"Wait, please. I heard you speaking to Mr. Stewart. It was unavoidable.
But I am glad. I must see him. Will you please ask him to come into the
parlor a moment?"

"Yes," replied Florence, quickly; and as she turned at the door she
flashed at Madeline a woman's meaning glance. "Make him keep his mouth
shut!"

Presently there were slow, reluctant steps outside the front door,