led up, and food and water. The cowboys spread comfortable beds
in several of the caves, and told Madeline and her friends to be as
quiet as possible, not to make a light, and to sleep dressed, ready for
travel at a moment's notice.

After the cowboys had gone down it was not a cheerful group left there
in the darkening twilight. Castleton prevailed upon them to eat.

"This is simply great," whispered Helen.

"Oh, it's awful!" moaned Dorothy. "It's your fault, Helen. You prayed
for something to happen."

"I believe it's a horrid trick those cowboys are playing," said Mrs.
Beck.

Madeline assured her friends that no trick was being played upon them,
and that she deplored the discomfort and distress, but felt no real
alarm. She was more inclined to evasive kindness here than to sincerity,
for she had a decided uneasiness. The swift change in the manner and
looks of her cowboys had been a shock to her. The last glance she had of
Stewart's face, then stern, almost sad, and haggard with worry, remained
to augment her foreboding.

Darkness appeared to drop swiftly down; the coyotes began their
haunting, mournful howls; the stars showed and grew brighter; the wind
moaned through the tips of the pines. Castleton was restless. He walked
to and fro before the overhanging shelf of rock, where his companions
sat lamenting, and presently he went out to the ledge of the bench. The
cowboys below had built a fire, and the light from it rose in a huge,
fan-shaped glow. Castleton's little figure stood out black against this
light. Curious and anxious also, Madeline joined him and peered down
from the cliff. The distance was short, and occasionally she could
distinguish a word spoken by the cowboys. They were unconcernedly
cooking and eating. She marked the absence of Stewart, and mentioned it
to Castleton. Silently Castleton pointed almost straight down, and there
in the gloom stood Stewart, with the two stag-hounds at his feet.

Presently Nick Steele silenced the camp-fire circle by raising a warning
hand. The cowboys bent their heads, listening. Madeline listened with
all her might. She heard one of the hounds whine, then the faint beat of
horse's hoofs. Nick spoke again and turned to his supper, and the other
men seemed to slacken in attention. The beat of hoofs grew louder,
entered the grove, then the circle of light. The rider was Nels. He
dismounted, and the sound of his low voice just reached Madeline.

"Gene, it's Nels.