Alfred laughed. “We won’t quarrel, Majesty. I remember you, and in spite of your pride you’ve got a heart. If you stay here a month you’ll love Florence Kingsley. I want you to know she’s had a great deal to do with straightening me up.... Well, to go on with my story. There’s Don Carlos, a Mexican rancher, and he’s my worst enemy. For that matter, he’s as bad an enemy of Bill Stillwell and other ranchers. Stillwell, by the way, is my friend and one of the finest men on earth. I got in debt to Don Carlos before I knew he was so mean. In the first place I lost money at faro—I gambled some when I came West—and then I made unwise cattle deals. Don Carlos is a wily Greaser, he knows the ranges, he has the water, and he is dishonest. So he outfigured me. And now I am practically ruined. He has not gotten possession of my ranch, but that’s only a matter of time, pending lawsuits at Santa Fe. At present I have a few hundred cattle running on Stillwell’s range, and I am his foreman.” “Foreman?” queried Madeline. “I am simply boss of Stillwell’s cowboys, and right glad of my job.” Madeline was conscious of an inward burning. It required an effort for her to retain her outward tranquillity. Annoying consciousness she had also of the returning sense of new disturbing emotions. She began to see just how walled in from unusual thought-provoking incident and sensation had been her exclusive life. “Cannot your property be reclaimed?” she asked. “How much do you owe?” “Ten thousand dollars would clear me and give me another start. But, Majesty, in this country that’s a good deal of money, and I haven’t been able to raise it. Stillwell’s in worse shape than I am.” Madeline went over to Alfred and put her hands on his shoulders. “We must not be in debt.” He stared at her as if her words had recalled something long forgotten. Then he smiled. “How imperious you are! I’d forgotten just who my beautiful sister really is. Majesty, you’re not going to ask me to take money from you?” “I am.” “Well, I’ll not do it. I never did, even when I was in college, and then there wasn’t much beyond me.” “Listen, Alfred,” she went on, earnestly, “this is entirely different. I had only an allowance then. You had no way to know that since I last wrote you I had come into my inheritance from Aunt Grace. It was—well, that doesn’t matter. Only, I haven’t been able to spend half the income. It’s mine. It’s not father’s money. You will make me very happy if you’ll consent. Alfred, I’m so—so amazed at the change in you. I’m so happy. You must never take a backward step from now on. What is ten thousand dollars to me? Sometimes I spend that in a month. I throw money away. If you let me help you it will be doing me good as well as you. Please, Alfred.” He kissed her, evidently surprised at her earnestness. And indeed Madeline was surprised herself. Once started, her speech had flowed.