Stewart standing motionless on the rim, her mind became active
again. As usual, he stood apart from the others, and now he seemed aloof
and unconscious. He made a dark, powerful figure, and he fitted that
wild promontory.

She experienced a strange, annoying surprise when she discovered both
Helen and Dorothy watching Stewart with peculiar interest. Edith, too,
was alive to the splendid picture the cowboy made. But when Edith smiled
and whispered in her ear, "It's so good to look at a man like that,"
Madeline again felt the surprise, only this time the accompaniment was a
vague pleasure rather than annoyance. Helen and Dorothy were flirts, one
deliberate and skilled, the other unconscious and natural. Edith
Wayne, occasionally--and Madeline reflected that the occasions were
infrequent--admired a man sincerely. Just here Madeline might have
fallen into a somewhat revealing state of mind if it had not been for
the fact that she believed Stewart was only an object of deep interest
to her, not as a man, but as a part of this wild and wonderful West
which was claiming her. So she did not inquire of herself why Helen's
coquetry and Dorothy's languishing allurement annoyed her, or why
Edith's eloquent smile and words had pleased her. She got as far,
however, as to think scornfully how Helen and Dorothy would welcome and
meet a flirtation with this cowboy and then go back home and forget him
as utterly as if he had never existed. She wondered, too, with a curious
twist of feeling that was almost eagerness, how the cowboy would meet
their advances. Obviously the situation was unfair to him; and if by
some strange accident he escaped unscathed by Dorothy's beautiful eyes
he would never be able to withstand Helen's subtle and fascinating and
imperious personality.

They returned to camp in the cool of the evening and made merry round
a blazing camp-fire. But Madeline's guests soon succumbed to the
persistent and irresistible desire to sleep.

Then Madeline went to bed with Florence under the pine-tree. Russ lay
upon one side and Tartar upon the other. The cool night breeze swept
over her, fanning her face, waving her hair. It was not strong enough
to make any sound through the branches, but it stirred a faint, silken
rustle in the long grass. The coyotes began their weird bark and howl.
Russ raised his head to growl at their impudence.

Madeline faced upward, and it seemed to her that under those wonderful
white stars she woul