“Miss Hammond, what has happened?” She had lowered her voice.

“I do not wish to recall all that has happened,” replied Madeline.  “I shall tell Alfred, however, that I would rather have met a hostile Apache than a cowboy.”

“Please don’t tell Al that!” cried Florence.  Then she grasped Stewart and pulled him close to the light.  “Gene, you’re drunk!”

“I was pretty drunk,” he replied, hanging his head.

“Oh, what have you done?”

“Now, see here, Flo, I only—­”

“I don’t want to know.  I’d tell it.  Gene, aren’t you ever going to learn decency?  Aren’t you ever going to stop drinking?  You’ll lose all your friends.  Stillwell has stuck to you.  Al’s been your best friend.  Molly and I have pleaded with you, and now you’ve gone and done—­God knows what!”

“What do women want to wear veils for?” he growled.  “I’d have known her but for that veil.”

“And you wouldn’t have insulted her.  But you would the next girl who came along.  Gene, you are hopeless.  Now, you get out of here and don’t ever come back.”

“Flo!” he entreated.

“I mean it.”

“I reckon then I’ll come back to-morrow and take my medicine,” he replied.

“Don’t you dare!” she cried.

Stewart went out and closed the door.

“Miss Hammond, you—­you don’t know how this hurts me,” said Florence.  “What you must think of us!  It’s so unlucky that you should have had this happen right at first.  Now, maybe you won’t have the heart to stay.  Oh, I’ve known more than one Eastern girl to go home without ever learning what we really are cut here.  Miss Hammond, Gene Stewart is a fiend when he’s drunk.  All the same I know, whatever he did, he meant no shame to you.  Come now, don’t think about it again to-night.”  She took up the lamp and led Madeline into a little room.  “This is out West,” she went on, smiling, as she indicated the few furnishings; “but you can rest.  You’re perfectly safe.  Won’t you let me help you undress—­can’t I do anything for you?”

“You are very kind, thank you, but I can manage,” replied Madeline.

“Well, then, good night.  The sooner I go the sooner you’ll rest.  Just forget what happened and think how fine a surprise you’re to give your brother to-morrow.”

With that she slipped out and softly shut the door.

As Madeline laid her watch on the bureau she noticed that the time was past two o’clock.  It seemed long since she had gotten off the train.  When she had turned out the lamp and crept wearily into bed she knew what it was to be utterly spent.  She was too tired to move a finger.  But her brain whirled.