"Wal, I reckon it could," he replied, with a short laugh. "It'd
sure be a money-maker. Why, with all my bad luck an' poor
equipment I've lived pretty well an' paid my debts an' haven't
really lost any money except the original outlay. I reckon
thet's sunk fer good."

"Would you sell--if some one would pay your price?"

"Miss Majesty, I'd jump at the chance. Yet somehow I'd hate to
leave hyar. I'd jest be fool enough to go sink the money in
another ranch."

"Would Don Carlos and these other Mexicans sell?"

"They sure would. The Don has been after me fer years, wantin'
to sell thet old rancho of his; an' these herders in the valley
with their stray cattle, they'd fall daid at sight of a little
money."

"Please tell me, Mr. Stillwell, exactly what you would do here if
you had unlimited means?" went on Madeline.

"Good Lud!" ejaculated the rancher, and started so he dropped his
pipe. Then with his clumsy huge fingers he refilled it,
relighted it, took a few long pulls, puffed great clouds of
smoke, and, squaring round, hands on his knees, he looked at
Madeline with piercing intentness. His hard face began to relax
and soften and wrinkle into a smile.