the yellow dust.  It was dry and made her cough.  The horses snorted.  She heared Stewart close behind, starting little avalanches that kept rolling on Majesty’s fetlocks.  She feared his legs might be cut or bruised, for some of the stones cracked by and went rattling down the slope.  At length the clouds of dust thinned and Madeline saw the others before her ride out upon a level.  Soon she was down, and Stewart also.

Here there was a delay, occasioned by Stewart changing Dorothy from his horse to her own.  This struck Madeline as being singular, and made her thoughtful.  In fact, the alert, quiet manner of all the cowboys was not reassuring.  As they resumed the ride it was noticeable that Nels and Nick were far in advance, Monty stayed far in the rear, and Stewart rode with the party.  Madeline heard Boyd Harvey ask Stewart if lawlessness such as he had mentioned was not unusual.  Stewart replied that, except for occasional deeds of outlawry such as might break out in any isolated section of the country, there had been peace and quiet along the border for years.  It was the Mexican revolution that had revived wild times, with all the attendant raids and holdups and gun-packing.  Madeline knew that they were really being escorted home under armed guard.

When they rounded the head of the mesa, bringing into view the ranch-house and the valley, Madeline saw dust or smoke hovering over a hut upon the outskirts of the Mexican quarters.  As the sun had set and the light was fading, she could not distinguish which it was.  Then Stewart set a fast pace for the house.  In a few minutes the party was in the yard, ready and willing to dismount.

Stillwell appeared, ostensibly cheerful, too cheerful to deceive Madeline.  She noted also that a number of armed cowboys were walking with their horses just below the house.

“Wal, you-all had a nice little run,” Stillwell said, speaking generally.  “I reckon there wasn’t much need of it.  Pat Hawe thinks he’s got some outlaws corralled on the ranch.  Nothin’ at all to be fussed up about.  Stewart’s that particular he won’t have you meetin’ with any rowdies.”

Many and fervent were the expressions of relief from Madeline’s feminine guests as they dismounted and went into the house.  Madeline lingered behind to speak with Stillwell and Stewart.

“Now, Stillwell, out with it,” she said, briefly.

The cattleman stared, and then he laughed, evidently pleased with her keenness.

“Wal, Miss Majesty, there’s goin’ to be a fight somewhere, an’ Stewart wanted to get you-all in before it come off.  He says the valley’s overrun by vaqueros an’ guerrillas an’ robbers, an’ Lord knows what else.”

He stamped off the porch, his huge spurs rattling, and started down the path toward the waiting men.

Stewart stood in his familiar attentive position, erect, silent, with a hand on pommel and bridle.