“That Monty makes my flesh creep,” said Helen, low-voiced.  “Really, Mr. Stillwell, is he so bad—­desperate—­as I’ve heard?  Did he ever kill anybody?”

“Sure.  ’Most as many as Nels,” replied Stillwell, cheerfully.

“Oh!  And is that nice Mr. Nels a desperado, too?  I wouldn’t have thought so.  He’s so kind and old-fashioned and soft-voiced.”

“Nels is sure an example of the dooplicity of men, Miss Helen.  Don’t you listen to his soft voice.  He’s really as bad as a side-winder rattlesnake.”

At this juncture Monty and Link reached the teeing-ground, and Stillwell went out to meet them.  The other cowboys pressed forward to surround the trio.  Madeline heard Stillwell’s voice, and evidently he was explaining that his team was to have skilled advice during the play.  Suddenly there came from the center of the group a loud, angry roar that broke off as suddenly.  Then followed excited voices all mingled together.  Presently Monty appeared, breaking away from restraining hands, and he strode toward Madeline.

Monty Price was a type of cowboy who had never been known to speak to a woman unless he was first addressed, and then he answered in blunt, awkward shyness.  Upon this great occasion, however, it appeared that he meant to protest or plead with Madeline, for he showed stress of emotion.  Madeline had never gotten acquainted with Monty.  She was a little in awe, if not in fear, of him, and now she found it imperative for her to keep in mind that more than any other of the wild fellows on her ranch this one should be dealt with as if he were a big boy.

Monty removed his sombrero—­something he had never done before—­ and the single instant when it was off was long enough to show his head entirely bald.  This was one of the hall-marks of that terrible Montana prairie fire through which he had fought to save the life of a child.  Madeline did not forget it, and all at once she wanted to take Monty’s side.  Remembering Stillwell’s wisdom, however, she forebore yielding to sentiment, and called upon her wits.

“Miss—­Miss Hammond,” began Monty, stammering, “I’m extendin’ admirin’ greetin’s to you an’ your friends.  Link an’ me are right down proud to play the match game with you watchin’.  But Bill says you’re goin’ to caddie for his team an’ coach ’em on the fine points.  An’ I want to ask, all respectful, if thet’s fair an’ square?”

“Monty, that is for you to say,” replied Madeline.  “It was my suggestion.  But if you object in the least, of course we shall withdraw.  It seems fair to me, because you have learned the game; you are expert, and I understand the other boys have no chance with you.  Then you have coached Link.  I think it would be sportsmanlike of you to accept the handicap.”