"Majesty, I'd accept the horse," he said. "Stewart is only a
cowboy now, and as tough as any I've known. But he comes of a
good family. He was a college man and a gentleman once. He went
to the bad out here, like so many fellows go, like I nearly did.
Then he had told me about his sister and mother. He cared a good
deal for them. I think he has been a source of unhappiness to
them. It was mostly when he was reminded of this in some way
that he'd get drunk. I have always stuck to him, and I would do
so yet if I had the chance. You can see Bill is heartbroken about
Danny Mains and Stewart. I think he rather hoped to get good
news. There's not much chance of them coming back now, at least
not in the case of Stewart. This giving up his horse means he's
going to join the rebel forces across the border. What wouldn't
I give to see that cowboy break loose on a bunch of Greasers!
Oh, damn the luck! I beg your pardon, Majesty. But I'm upset,
too. I'm sorry about Stewart. I liked him pretty well before he
thrashed that coyote of a sheriff, Pat Hawe, and afterward I
guess I liked him more. You read the letter, sister, and accept
the horse."

In silence Madeline bent her gaze from her brother's face to the
letter:

Friend Al,--I'm sending my horse down to you because I'm going
away and haven't the nerve to take him where he'd get hurt or
fall into strange hands.

If you think it's all right, why, give him to your sister with my
respects. But if you don't like the idea, Al, or if she won't
have him, then he's for you. I'm not forgetting your kindness to