“Stillwell, what shall I say to Ambrose? How shall I punish him? He has done wrong to deceive me. I never was so surprised in my life. Christine did not seem to care any more for Ambrose than for any of the other cowboys. What does my authority amount to? I must do something. Stillwell, you must help me.” Whenever Madeline fell into a quandary she had to call upon the old cattleman. No man ever held a position with greater pride than Stillwell, but he had been put to tests that steeped him in humility. Here he scratched his head in great perplexity. “Dog-gone the luck! What’s this elopin’ bizness to do with cattle-raisin’? I don’t know nothin’ but cattle. Miss Majesty, it’s amazin’ strange what these cowboys hev come to. I never seen no cowboys like these we’ve got hyar now. I don’t know them any more. They dress swell an’ read books, an’ some of them hev actooly stopped cussin’ an’ drinkin’. I ain’t sayin’ all this is against them. Why, now, they’re jest the finest bunch of cow-punchers I ever seen or dreamed of. But managin’ them now is beyond me. When cowboys begin to play thet game gol-lof an’ run off with French maids I reckon Bill Stillwell has got to resign.” “Stillwell! Oh, you will not leave me? What in the world would I do?” exclaimed Madeline, in great anxiety. “Wal, I sure won’t leave you, Miss Majesty. No, I never’ll do thet. I’ll run the cattle bizness fer you an’ see after the hosses an’ other stock. But I’ve got to hev a foreman who can handle this amazin’ strange bunch of cowboys.” “You’ve tried half a dozen foremen. Try more until you find the man who meets your requirements,” said Madeline. “Never mind that now. Tell me how to impress Ambrose—to make him an example, so to speak. I must have another maid. And I do not want a new one carried off in this summary manner.” “Wal, if you fetch pretty maids out hyar you can’t expect nothin’ else. Why, thet black-eyed little French girl, with her white skin an’ pretty airs an’ smiles an’ shrugs, she had the cowboys crazy. It’ll be wuss with the next one.” “Oh dear!” sighed Madeline. “An’ as fer impressin’ Ambrose, I reckon I can tell you how to do thet. Jest give it to him good an’ say you’re goin’ to fire him. That’ll fix Ambrose, an’ mebbe scare the other boys fer a spell.” “Very well, Stillwell, bring Ambrose in to see me, and tell Christine to wait in my room.” It was a handsome debonair, bright-eyed cowboy that came tramping into Madeline’s presence. His accustomed shyness and awkwardness had disappeared in an excited manner. He was a happy boy. He looked straight into Madeline’s face as if he expected her to wish him joy. And Madeline actually found that expression trembling to her lips. She held it back until she could be severe. But Madeline feared she would fail of much severity. Something warm and sweet, like a fragrance, had entered the room with Ambrose. “Ambrose, what have you done?” she asked.