ig-hearted man with a
fast hoss an' a strong rope, an' may he win an' hold her! Come, friends,
drink."

A heavy pound of horses' hoofs and a yell outside arrested Stillwell's
voice and halted his hand in midair.

The patio became as silent as an unoccupied room.

Through the open doors and windows of Madeline's chamber burst the
sounds of horses stamping to a halt, then harsh speech of men, and a low
cry of a woman in pain.

Rapid steps crossed the porch, entered Madeline's room. Nels appeared in
the doorway. Madeline was surprised to see that he had not been at the
dinner-table. She was disturbed at sight of his face.

"Stewart, you're wanted outdoors," called Nels, bluntly. "Monty, you
slope out here with me. You, Nick, an' Stillwell--I reckon the rest of
you hed better shut the doors an' stay inside."

Nels disappeared. Quick as a cat Monty glided out. Madeline heard his
soft, swift steps pass from her room into her office. He had left
his guns there. Madeline trembled. She saw Stewart get up quietly and
without any change of expression on his dark, sad face leave the patio.
Nick Steele followed him. Stillwell dropped his wine-glass. As it broke,
shivering the silence, his huge smile vanished. His face set into the
old cragginess and the red slowly thickened into black. Stillwell went
out and closed the door behind him.

Then there was a blank silence. The enjoyment of the moment had been
rudely disrupted. Madeline glanced down the lines of brown faces to see
the pleasure fade into the old familiar hardness.

"What's wrong?" asked Alfred, rather stupidly. The change of mood had
been too rapid for him. Suddenly he awakened, thoroughly aroused at
the interruption. "I'm going to see who's butted in here to spoil our
dinner," he said, and strode out.

He returned before any one at the table had spoken or moved, and now the
dull red of anger mottled his forehead.

"It's the sheriff of El Cajon!" he exclaimed, contemptuously. "Pat Hawe
with some of his tough deputies come to arrest Gene Stewart. They've got
that poor little Mexican girl out there tied on a horse. Confound that
sheriff!"

Madeline calmly rose from the table, eluding Florence's entreating
hand, and started for the door. The cowboys jumped up. Alfred barred her
progress.

"Alfred, I am going out," she said.

"No, I guess not," he replied. "That's no place for you."

"I am going." She looked straight at him.

"Madeline! Why, what is it? You