got plumb bad.  He made lots of trouble, but there wasn’t no gun-play.  Mebbe thet made him sore, so he went an’ licked Flo’s brother-in-law.  Thet wasn’t so bad.  Jack sure needed a good lickin’.  Wal, then Gene met Danny an’ tried to get Danny drunk.  An’ he couldn’t!  What do you think of that?  Danny hedn’t been drinkin’—­wouldn’t touch a drop.  I’m sure glad of thet, but it’s amazin’ strange.  Why, Danny was a fish fer red liquor.  I guess he an’ Gene had some pretty hard words, though I’m not sure about thet.  Anyway, Gene went down to the railroad an’ he got on an engine, an’ he was in the engine when it pulled out.  Lord, I hope he doesn’t hold up the train!  If he gets gay over in Arizona he’ll go to the pen at Yuma.  An’ thet pen is a graveyard fer cowboys.  I wired to agents along the railroad to look out fer Stewart, an’ to wire back to me if he’s located.”

“Suppose you do find him, Stillwell, what can you do?” inquired Alfred.

The old man nodded gloomily.

“I straightened him up once.  Mebbe I can do it again.”  Then, brightening somewhat, he turned to Madeline.  “I jest hed an idee, Miss Majesty.  If I can get him, Gene Steward is the cowboy I want fer my foreman.  He can manage this bunch of cow-punchers thet are drivin’ me dotty.  What’s more, since he’s fought fer the rebels an’ got that name El Capitan, all the Greasers in the country will kneel to him.  Now, Miss Majesty, we hevn’t got rid of Don Carlos an’ his vaqueros yet.  To be sure, he sold you his house an’ ranch an’ stock.  But you remember nothin’ was put in black and white about when he should get out.  An’ Don Carlos ain’t gettin’ out.  I don’t like the looks of things a little bit.  I’ll tell you now thet Don Carlos knows somethin’ about the cattle I lost, an’ thet you’ve been losin’ right along.  Thet Greaser is hand an’ glove with the rebels.  I’m willin’ to gamble thet when he does get out he an’ his vaqueros will make another one of the bands of guerrillas thet are harassin’ the border.  This revolution ain’t over’ yet.  It’s jest commenced.  An’ all these gangs of outlaws are goin’ to take advantage of it.  We’ll see some old times, mebbe.  Wal, I need Gene Stewart.  I need him bad.  Will you let me hire him, Miss Majesty, if I can get him straightened up?”

The old cattleman ended huskily.

“Stillwell, by all means find Stewart, and do not wait to straighten him up.  Bring him to the ranch,” replied Madeline.

Thanking her, Stillwell led his horse away.

“Strange how he loves that cowboy!” murmured Madeline.

“Not so strange, Majesty,” replied her brother.  “Not when you know.  Stewart has been with Stillwell on some hard trips into the desert alone.  There’s no middle course of feeling between men facing death in the desert.  Either they hate each other or love each other.  I don’t know, but I imagine Stewart did something for Stillwell—­saved us life, perhaps.