grove of mesquites
appeared to be lifeless, except for her and her horse. It was, however,
only after moments of attention that she found the place was far from
being dead. Keen eyes and ears brought reward. Desert quail, as gray as
the bare earth, were dusting themselves in a shady spot. A bee, swift as
light, hummed by. She saw a horned toad, the color of stone, squatting
low, hiding fearfully in the sand within reach of her whip. She extended
the point of the whip, and the toad quivered and swelled and hissed. It
was instinct with fight. The wind faintly stirred the thin foliage of
the mesquites, making a mournful sigh. From far up in the foothills,
barely distinguishable, came the scream of an eagle. The bray of a burro
brought a brief, discordant break. Then a brown bird darted down from
an unseen perch and made a swift, irregular flight after a fluttering
winged insect. Madeline heard the sharp snapping of a merciless beak.
Indeed, there was more than life in the shade of the mesquites.

Suddenly Majesty picked up his long ears and snorted. Then Madeline
heard a slow pad of hoofs. A horse was approaching from the direction
of the lake. Madeline had learned to be wary, and, mounting Majesty, she
turned him toward the open. A moment later she felt glad of her caution,
for, looking back between the trees, she saw Stewart leading a horse
into the grove. She would as lief have met a guerrilla as this cowboy.

Majesty had broken into a trot when a shrill whistle rent the air. The
horse leaped and, wheeling so swiftly that he nearly unseated Madeline,
he charged back straight for the mesquites. Madeline spoke to him, cried
angrily at him, pulled with all her strength upon the bridle, but was
helplessly unable to stop him. He whistled a piercing blast. Madeline
realized then that Stewart, his old master, had called him and that
nothing could turn him. She gave up trying, and attended to the urgent
need of intercepting mesquite boughs that Majesty thrashed into motion.
The horse thumped into an aisle between the trees and, stopping before
Stewart, whinnied eagerly.

Madeline, not knowing what to expect, had not time for any feeling but
amaze. A quick glance showed her Stewart in rough garb, dressed for
the trail, and leading a wiry horse, saddled and packed. When Stewart,
without looking at her, put his arm around Majesty's neck and laid his
face against the flowing mane Madeline's heart suddenly began to beat
with unwo