“We have our big round-up in the fall, when there’s plenty of grass and water, and all the riding-stock as well as the cattle are in fine shape.  The cattlemen in the valley meet with their cowboys and drive in all the cattle they can find.  Then they brand and cut out each man’s herd and drive it toward home.  Then they go on up or down the valley, make another camp, and drive in more cattle.  It takes weeks.  There are so many Greasers with little bands of stock, and they are crafty and greedy.  Bill says he knows Greaser cowboys, vaqueros, who never owned a steer or a cow, and now they’ve got growing herds.  The same might be said of more than one white cowboy.  But there’s not as much of that as there used to be.”

“And the horses?  I want to know about them,” said Madeline, when Florence paused.

“Oh, the cow-ponies!  Well, they sure are interesting.  Broncos, the boys call them.  Wild! they’re wilder than the steers they have to chase.  Bill’s got broncos heah that never have been broken and never will be.  And not every boy can ride them, either.  The vaqueros have the finest horses.  Don Carlos has a black that I’d give anything to own.  And he has other fine stock.  Gene Stewart’s big roan is a Mexican horse, the swiftest and proudest I ever saw.  I was up on him once and—­oh, he can run!  He likes a woman, too, and that’s sure something I want in a horse.  I heard Al and Bill talking at breakfast about a horse for you.  They were wrangling.  Bill wanted you to have one, and Al another.  It was funny to hear them.  Finally they left the choice to me, until the round-up is over.  Then I suppose every cowboy on the range will offer you his best mount.  Come, let’s go out to the corrals and look over the few horses left.”

For Madeline the morning hours flew by, with a goodly part of the time spent on the porch gazing out over that ever-changing vista.  At noon a teamster drove up with her trunks.  Then while Florence helped the Mexican woman get lunch Madeline unpacked part of her effects and got out things for which she would have immediate need.  After lunch she changed her dress for a riding-habit and, going outside, found Florence waiting with the horses.

The Western girl’s clear eyes seemed to take stock of Madeline’s appearance in one swift, inquisitive glance and then shone with pleasure.

“You sure look—­you’re a picture, Miss Hammond.  That riding-outfit is a new one.  What it ’d look like on me or another woman I can’t imagine, but on you it’s—­it’s stunning.  Bill won’t let you go within a mile of the cowboys.  If they see you that’ll be the finish of the round-up.”

While they rode down the slope Florence talked about the open ranges of New Mexico and Arizona.

“Water is scarce,” she said.  “If Bill could afford to pipe water down from the mountains he’d have the finest ranch in the valley.”