u'd rush right into peril.
Is that necessary? I think--I mean--I don't know just why I feel so--so
about you doing it. But I believe it's because I'm afraid you--you might
be hurt."

"You're afraid I--I might be hurt?" he echoed, wonderingly, the hard
whiteness of his face warming, flushing, glowing.

"Yes."

The single word, with all it might mean, with all it might not mean,
softened him as if by magic, made him gentle, amazed, shy as a boy,
stifling under a torrent of emotions.

Madeline thought she had persuaded him--worked her will with him. Then
another of his startlingly sudden moves told her that she had reckoned
too quickly. This move was to put her firmly aside so he could pass;
and Madeline, seeing he would not hesitate to lift her out of the way,
surrendered the door. He turned on the threshold. His face was still
working, but the flame-pointed gleam of his eyes indicated the return of
that cowboy ruthlessness.

"I'm going to drive Don Carlos and his gang out of the house," declared
Stewart. "I think I may promise you to do it without a fight. But if it
takes a fight, off he goes!"

XV. The Mountain Trail

As Stewart departed from one door Florence knocked upon another; and
Madeline, far shaken out of her usual serenity, admitted the cool
Western girl with more than gladness. Just to have her near helped
Madeline to get back her balance. She was conscious of Florence's sharp
scrutiny, then of a sweet, deliberate change of manner. Florence might
have been burning with curiosity to know more about the bandits hidden
in the house, the plans of the cowboys, the reason for Madeline's
suppressed emotion; but instead of asking Madeline questions she
introduced the important subject of what to take on the camping trip.
For an hour they discussed the need of this and that article,
selected those things most needful, and then packed them in Madeline's
duffle-bags.

That done, they decided to lie down, fully dressed as they were in
riding-costume, and sleep, or at least rest, the little remaining time
left before the call to saddle. Madeline turned out the light and,
peeping through her window, saw dark forms standing sentinel-like in the
gloom. When she lay down she heard soft steps on the path. This fidelity
to her swelled her heart, while the need of it presaged that fearful
something which, since Stewart's passionate appeal to her, haunted her
as inevitable.

Madeline did not expect to sleep, yet