“Lance, old darling, if Snake Elwell gives me the gate, I’m coming back to go for you in a big way.”

  That sally elicited a roar of mirth, in which Lance had to join. Madge’s rather weak response was a little insincere.

  “But, old red-top, that will be swell,” retorted Sidway.

  “Cowboy, you don’t think anyone else around here has a look-in with you?” went on Beulah, demurely anxious, with a sly glance at Madge standing big-eyed and disconsolate on the porch.

  “Not a chance, Bu.”

  Then with a chorus of: “We’ll be seeing you!” they were off. Madge watched the cars wind into the green pines and disappear down the slope.

  “That’s over,” she said, with a sigh.

  Sidway, with Nels and Ren, had slipped away unobserved. There were tears in her mother’s eyes. Her father bent an abstracted gaze below, watching to see the cars come out from under the slope.

  “Darlings, let’s get it over,” said Madge, and locking arms with her parents she led them in.

  “Get what over?” queried Stewart, with a start, and her mother looked suddenly concerned.

  “Now, Dad! Don’t try to fool your little Madge.” Forthright then, she plunged abruptly into a confession of how it had come about that Sidway had told her of the impending ruin, if she did not retrieve the situation. She tried to spare the cowboy, but not herself. The quarrel they had had, and the vicious slap she had given him, surely justified him in losing his temper to bitterly flay her.

  “You slapped that cowboy, Madge?” queried Stewart in surprise and concern.

  “I’ll say I did. You may have observed his cut and swollen lip.”

  “Yes.... What did Sidway say to that?” asked her father curiously.

  “He slapped me back.”

  “No!”

  “I thought he’d jar my teeth out of their sockets. But I hit him back with all my might. Then he said he refused to let me make a cat and dog fight out of it.... Well, that, of course, happened before he told me where to get off.... Dad, dear — Mom darling, this pass that my extravagance and stupidity — and selfishness — have brought you to, has almost broken my heart. I shall make amends. I’ll pay it all back. I’ve wired L. A. and New York, too. I can raise a hundred grand on my jewels. I don’t need them. I seldom wore Aunt Helen’s pearls. I shan’t miss them.... Dad, will that money save us, with plenty to spare?”

  “It would — lass,” he replied, a little huskily, and his arm tightened round her.

  “Madge, dearest,” spoke up her mother, her poise for once broken. “I knew you would do just this. If Gene had let me tell you long ago!”

  “Dad was trying me out, Mom. It’s settled then.... I’ve had a ghastly lesson. I’ll make up for it, my darlings... . Dad, I never could hope to be your ideal western girl, nor ever in Mom’s class as a lady of quality, but I can be a square shooter and I will be.”

  “Lass, we might argue over that western girl idea,” returned Stewart, his dark eyes alight. Her mother folded her in loving arms, and by these simple things Madge seemed to grasp a great joy that had almost eluded her.

  “Oh, yes, Dad... there’s one other thing,” said Madge, turning in her mother’s arms. She essayed to be composed and casual, with dubious success. “Can I rely on you — on your keeping Sidway here? He — I.... At least I can thank him — reward him somehow.”

  “Madge, I don’t think that’ll be at all difficult,” replied Stewart, but he did not make clear whether he meant keeping Sidway there or rewarding him.

  “I’m almost — happy again,” said Madge, yielding to tears, “but still feel kind of wobbly and I’d better — lie down.”

  “It might be a good idea to talk that matter over with Nels,” added Stewart, smilingly. “He and Sid are thick as hops.”

  Madge fled, yearning to ask just what matter her father meant, but she did not dare. How perilously close was she to betrayal of her secret! Her father’s evasive eye and significant words, her mother’s softened face and restrained sympathy — these were hard to resist. But Madge had a little pride and spirit left. In her room, which had again taken on its old tranquillity and speaking silence, she salvaged something of her old self.

  Next morning, biding her time, until she had seen Lance and Ren ride away, Madge waylaid Nels in his bunkhouse.

  “Wal, Majesty! I shore was wonderin’ when you’d remember yore old Nels.”

  “Darling, I’ve never forgotten you,” she said, tenderly. “It’s just that I’ve been knocked out — and lots on my mind.... And I knew when I did see you I’d have to talk turkey.”

  “Aboot who, lass? Wal, I reckon I know. An’ it’s aboot high time.”

  “Nels! He’s not leaving?” queried Madge, hurriedly.

  “Wal, he talks aboot it a lot. An’ he’s purty sad these days. Ren rags him all the time aboot you. Lance says he’ll stay till Ren an’ Bonita air married.”

  “Oh, Nels! Is that settled?”

  “It shore is. An’ Ren is one dotty cowboy.”

  “I’m happy over it.... Oh, what shall I give them? It must be something wonderful.”

  “Wal, lass, if I had my say, I’d want to see another marryin’ pretty pronto.”

  “Nels! — You’re so sudden. Have a heart!... You mean....”

  “Lass, I’m confessin’ somethin’,” replied Nels, earnestly. “I’m gettin’ along — close to seventy. An’ I’ve had a long full life. Lately my heart has been warnin’ me thet I might not hev long to be heah. An’ I couldn’t go satisfied an’ happy if you wasn’t...”

  “Oh, Nels! — Don’t! don’t!” implored Madge, poignantly, and she flew to throw her arms around his neck and lay her face against his hollow bristling cheek. “Don’t think such a thing! — It’d break my heart. — Nels, you’re my second dad. You taught me everything.... You must not go away — and leave me.”

  “Wal, honey, I reckon there ain’t any reason to be onduly scared. I was jest preparin’ you.... An’ thet fetches me to the somethin’ nearest my heart. It’s this turrible love affair between you an’ Lance.”

  “Turrible one-sided.... Yes,” choked out Madge, hiding her face.

  “One-sided? — Not onless you don’t love him.”

  “Oh, dear old Nels!” was all she could say, clinging to him.

  “Majesty, the boy is dyin’ fer you. He’s got it wuss than I ever seen any boy in all my life.”

  “How do you know?” she cried, desperately.

  “Wal, a blind man could see. But, lass, I’ll give him away — double-cross him — if you say his case is not hopeless.”

  “Nels — darling... it’s not — quite hopeless,” she whispered.

  “Aw, thet’s fine! — Wal, Lance has told me time an’ again, an’ this last time, the other night, he jest cried in his misery. It seems you hurt him turrible by believin’ he was a gangster — a kidnaper — an’ Gawd knows what.... Lass, I cain’t understand how you — so smart a girl — could ever make thet mistake.”

  “I did! I’m not smart. But I know now — and that’s killing me.”

  “Wal, he’s the finest youngster yore Dad an’ me ever met. Thet’s all of thet. An’ he loves you so much he suffers awful. I could tell you the things he does thet’d make you ashamed an’ sorry. But this is enough. He told me thet he loved you so much he couldn’t stay heah an’ he couldn’t leave. Now Majesty, I’ve told you — I’ve betrayed him. What do you say?”

  “I can’t say — much — when — I — I’m crying.... But I — I love him more — than he loves me — and I’m dying of longing — and shame....”

  “Thet’s enough, lass,” interrupted Nels, vastly disturbed by her weeping. “It’s gonna be all right.... What you must do is be clear enough to break his pride. He’s stubborn as a mule.”

  “Break his pride! You mean — make him confess — he loves me?”

  “Sartin I mean thet. An’ you’ve gotta do somethin’ onheered of an’ powerful sweet thet won’t give him no chance on earth.”

  “Nels, I’ll do — anything,” cried Madge, wildly. “But what?”

  “Wal, thet’s more than I can tell. You’ll hev to figger thet yourself.”

  “I’ll do anything — anything...” Madge repeated.

  “Wal, thet makes me happy,” burst out the old cattleman. “Majesty, run home now an’ cudgel yore pretty haid fer a grand idee. Somethin’ onheerd of — turrible lovin’ — amazin’ an’ sweet thet won’t give Lance no chance atall. An’ spring it on him pronto.”

  “You darling old matchmaker — I will,” promised Madge, and almost blind with ecstasy, she ran away, up into the solitary pines.

  * * * * *

  After dinner that night, during which she had been rapturously gay, to the wonder and delight of her parents, Madge put on one of her flimsiest, most shimmering gowns, with high-heeled white slippers to match. Wearing a long dark coat over this she stole forth upon what seemed to her the most momentous and thrilling venture of her life.

  She went by the patio and down through the pines by the trail. At this hour she knew Nels, her father perhaps, and surely the cowboys, would be at the store. As if by magic all her old imperious confidence, tempered this time by a secret humility and gratitude and love, returned in full force. She could not lose, and that gave a tremendous zest to her venture.

  Her blood raced with her thoughts and her heart throbbed high as she gained the level, and like a shadow glided across to the bunkhouses. Lance’s was next to that occupied by Nels. She tiptoed down the porch, close to the wall until she came to Lance’s open door. The yellow lights of the store cast a glow out upon the open. She heard low voices and Sidway’s laugh. That gave her pause. Could he be so deeply and miserably in love, as Nels had sworn, and laugh like any other fancy-free cowboy? What if that sly Nels had framed her? The thought was terrible. But nobly she cast it aside as unworthy of a chastened and humble girl. Anyway the die was cast.

  Madge took off her clicking high-heeled slippers and stole into Lance’s room and laid aside the long coat. Feeling around for his chair she found it and curled up in it, shaking with excitement. Presently she dimly espied her picture on his table, and that overjoyed her.

  It was done. She was there, in his room. Beyond Lance’s finding her there she had not thought. This was far enough. Of all the things in the world, this was the last Lance Sidway would think of. It did not matter much what he did, when he found her there, unless he took her by the heels and dragged her out. He was capable of that, Madge thought.

  Voices and jingling spurs enjoined silence. The men were approaching. Madge would have preferred that Lance came alone. For a moment she fought a wild need to laugh. How her blood was gushing through her veins!

  Heavy footfalls upon the porch jarred the log cabin. Madge sat as quietly as a mouse, her heart pounding. She hoped Lance would not come to his room while the other men were in the bunkhouse. Still, no matter! She did not care what happened. Nels had cured her malady. She had all the cards in her hands.

  The men, apparently three in number, filed into Nels’ room.

  “Strike a light, Nels,” said Stewart.

  “It’s pretty darn warm,” rejoined Sidway. “I won’t light my lamp.”

  “Wal, Sid, you won’t need to,” added Nels. “Reckon you got kind of a glow aboot you.”

  “Nels, I’ve a mind to bounce something off your dome,” declared the cowboy, irritably, and then he laughed.

  “Son, I’ll smoke one of your cigarettes,” said Stewart.

  How Madge shook at that laconic epithet given Sidway by her father! Poor Lance! They were all in league against him. Not a ghost of a show to escape!

  “All right, we’re set,” went on her father, seriously. “You’re determined to ride away tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Gene — I am,” replied Lance, sadly.

  “There’s a future here for you. This ranch will pay again some day. I’m glad to tell you that I’m going to pull through this tough time. Madge is helping me.”

  “By God! I knew she would,” cried Lance, passionately, as if verifying something to a doubtful side of him. “I’m glad, Gene. It’s worried me a lot. Not that it’s any of my business.... She’s swell. She’s a Stewart, all right.”

  “I had that hunch myself.”

  “Wal,” drawled Nels, “I always told you hombres thet Majesty was true-blue, a western girl at heart, an’ one grand thoroughbred.”

  There ensued a momentary silence, during which Madge feared they might hear her heart beat, so thickly and swiftly did it pound in her ears.

  Then Stewart spoke: “Son, please tell me why you don’t want to stay here at Majesty’s Rancho?”

  “Gene, it can’t be possible you don’t know,” retorted Lance. Then his laugh cut a little coldly, with a hopeless note. “Gene, to come straight out with the truth — I’m so mad over your beautiful daughter that I can’t stand being any longer where I can see her.”

  “That’s blunt and to the point,” returned Stewart. “I’ll speak the same way. I’d like you to be my son.... Have you asked Madge to marry you?”

  “Good heavens — no!” ground out Sidway, apparently tortured.

  “Why not? Faint heart never won fair lady! I don’t recall being very shy with Madeline. Was I, Nels?”

  “Hell no!”

  “Madge hates the very sight of me,” declared Lance, abjectly.

  “Don’t believe it,” declared Stewart, vigorously.

  “Son, I reckon you air wrong aboot thet,” drawled Nels.

  “Oh, you fellows will drive me to drink. Let’s make an end of it. I know you like me, and you’ve been swell to me. I love you both. But that has nothing to do with it. Madge is the one. And she loathes the ground I walk on. It’s no wonder. I’ve had the rotten luck to save her in humiliating circumstances. She is as proud as a princess. I’ve rubbed her the wrong way. I’ve bucked her in everything. Perhaps the last straw was her finding out that I had seen her bank statements and credits. But that wasn’t my fault. Worse than that, my knowing about her flirtation with that gangster, Uhl...” Suddenly Lance broke off, panic in his voice. “I didn’t mean to tell you that — to give her away. I could kick myself.”

  “Son, you’re not giving Madge away. I savvied that. And then she told me.”

  “She did? Holy cats!”

  “She just casually spoke of it, as if for her it was okay. That has been bothering me.... Just how far it went!”

  “Wal, Gene, thet doesn’t bother me none,” drawled Nels.

  “But it should,” flashed Stewart.

  “Gene, one day Majesty talked to me for a long while. She was in one of them bare bathin’ ootfits, an’ I jest couldn’t look at her atall. An’ she got to tellin’ me aboot the girls an’ boys, an’ these new modern ways. We air old-fashioned, Gene. An’ this world has moved along. It’s changed. Somehow I seemed to savvy Majesty, an’ since thet day nothin’ she ever did or might do could bother me.”

  “Why didn’t she confide in her father, too?” asked Stewart, jealously.

  “Gene, you may not believe it,” put in Lance, “but Madge was afraid of you. Loved you — craved your respect. I know.”

  “All right. You and Nels are hipped on this girl. You just can’t see anything wrong....”

  “There wasn’t anything wrong,” interrupted Sidway, with heat, “unless we except her flirtations and extravagances. Not in this day!”

  “What’s the age to do with it?”

  “I don’t know, but it has a lot.”

  “Sidway, speak right out, will you?” importuned Stewart. “It seems we three all worship this strange girl. Well, Nels is set and safe in his worship. I don’t want to embarrass you. I know you’d lie like a gentleman to protect her. And so would I if I were in your place. I love Madge and nothing can change it. Still I wish.... Oh, hell, I don’t know what I want. But it’s a deep and bitter need, I assure you.”

  Again there ensued a silence, except for Nels’ cough, and the tapping of his pipe upon the table, while Madge sat there, strung and tense, her heart bursting.

  “Gene, I get you,” spoke up Lance, with finality. “You want your old idea of respect back for Madge. I tell you, on my word of honor, that you may feel that respect. Madge Stewart has never done one single thing that she would hide from you — that she could not look you in the eyes and tell. Sure she is modern, sophisticated. She’s a college girl. A radical, when it comes to mid-Victorian standards.... But, get this, both of you. Even if she had been what you old fogies would call bad, it’d make no difference. Not to me! Not to anyone who knows her! Madge Stewart is like Helen of Troy. Their value is as incomparable and incalculable as their beauty, their minds and souls, their great power to create love, to give, to be a joy to all who come in contact with them.”

  “You win, son,” came Stewart’s quiet voice, a little husky. “Then, even if Madge were what you swear she is not — you’d make her your wife, if she cared for you?”

  “My — heaven! Gene, you’re thickheaded,” declared Lance in despair. “Yes! Yes! And consider myself the luckiest fellow in the world — as I’d be the happiest.”

  Madge could not bear any more. Slipping out of the chair she picked up her slippers, and softly went outside, to appear in the open doorway of Nels’ room. She paused a moment, then entered.

  The smile of beatitude that shone resplendent on Nels’ visage, the sudden sinking of Stewart into a chair, as if his legs had suddenly grown weak, and Sidway’s backing into the wall for support, — these reactions sustained Madge in this emotional climax of her life.

  “Dad — Nels — Lance, did I happen in opportunely?”

  “Madge! Where did you come from?” demanded Stewart.

  “From Lance’s room. I’ve been in there listening to you.”

  “For God’s sake!... Are you crazy, girl? — What were you doing there?”

  “Waiting for Lance. I’d framed a little stunt. But you’ve upset it.”

  “Yes. And what were you going to do — when he came?”

  “Dad, I hadn’t the slightest idea. But I know now.”