elt a quirt or a spur, and
I'd like to think you'd never hurt him. I'm hoping your sister will take
him. She'll be good to him, and she can afford to take care of him. And,
while I'm waiting to be plugged by a Greaser bullet, if I happen to have
a picture in mind of how she'll look upon my horse, why, man, it's not
going to make any difference to you. She needn't ever know it. Between
you and me, Al, don't let her or Flo ride alone over Don Carlos's way.
If I had time I could tell you something about that slick Greaser. And
tell your sister, if there's ever any reason for her to run away from
anybody when she's up on that roan, just let her lean over and yell in
his ear. She'll find herself riding the wind. So long.

Gene Stewart.

Madeline thoughtfully folded the letter and murmured, "How he must love
his horse!"

"Well, I should say so," replied Alfred. "Flo will tell you. She's the
only person Gene ever let ride that horse, unless, as Bill thinks, the
little Mexican girl, Bonita, rode him out of El Cajon the other night.
Well, sister mine, how about it--will you accept the horse?"

"Assuredly. And very happy indeed am I to get him. Al, you said, I
think, that Mr. Stewart named him after me--saw my nickname in the New
York paper?"

"Yes."

"Well, I will not change his name. But, Al, how shall I ever climb up
on him? He's taller than I am. What a giant of a horse! Oh, look at
him--he's nosing my hand. I really believe he understood what I said.
Al, did you ever see such a splendid head and such beautiful eyes? They
are so large and dark and soft--and human. Oh, I am a fickle woman, for
I am forgetting White Stockings."

"I'll gamble he'll make you forget any other horse," said Alfred.
"You'll have to get on him from the porch."

As Madeline was not dressed for the saddle, she did not attempt to
mount.

"Come, Majesty--how strange that sounds!--we must get acquainted. You
have now a new owner, a very severe young woman who will demand loyalty
from you and obedience, and some day, after a decent period, she will
expect love."

Madeline led the horse to and fro, and was delighted with his
gentleness. She discovered that he did not need to be led. He came at
her call, followed her like a pet dog, rubbed his black muzzle against
her. Sometimes, at the turns in their walk, he lifted his head and with
ears forward looked up the trail by which he had come, and beyond the
foothills. He was looking over the range