led,
and mothers had shot their children and then themselves at the approach
of the Apache. The name Apache curdled the blood of any woman of the
Southwest in those days.

Madeline shuddered, and was glad when the old frontiersman changed
the subject and began to talk of the settling of that country by the
Spaniards, the legends of lost gold-mines handed down to the Mexicans,
and strange stories of heroism and mystery and religion. The Mexicans
had not advanced much in spite of the spread of civilization to the
Southwest. They were still superstitious, and believed the legends of
treasures hidden in the walls of their missions, and that unseen hands
rolled rocks down the gullies upon the heads of prospectors who dared to
hunt for the lost mines of the padres.

"Up in the mountains back of my ranch there's a lost mine," said
Stillwell. "Mebbe it's only a legend. But somehow I believe it's there.
Other lost mines hev been found. An' as fer' the rollin' stones, I sure
know thet's true, as any one can find out if he goes trailin' up the
gulch. Mebbe thet's only the weatherin' of the cliffs. It's a sleepy,
strange country, this Southwest, an', Miss Majesty, you're a-goin' to
love it. You'll call it ro-mantic, Wal, I reckon ro-mantic is correct. A
feller gets lazy out hyar an' dreamy, an' he wants to put off work till
to-morrow. Some folks say it's a land of manana--a land of to-morrow.
Thet's the Mexican of it.

"But I like best to think of what a lady said to me onct--an eddicated
lady like you, Miss Majesty. Wal, she said it's a land where it's always
afternoon. I liked thet. I always get up sore in the mawnin's, an' don't
feel good till noon. But in the afternoon I get sorta warm an' like
things. An' sunset is my time. I reckon I don't want nothin' any finer
than sunset from my ranch. You look out over a valley that spreads wide
between Guadalupe Mountains an' the Chiricahuas, down across the red
Arizona desert clear to the Sierra Madres in Mexico. Two hundred miles,
Miss Majesty! An' all as clear as print! An' the sun sets behind all
thet! When my time comes to die I'd like it to be on my porch smokin' my
pipe an' facin' the west."

So the old cattleman talked on while Madeline listened, and Florence
dozed in her seat, and the sun began to wane, and the horses climbed
steadily. Presently, at the foot of the steep ascent, Stillwell got out
and walked, leading the team. During this long climb fatigue claimed
Madeline,