rate, I made several. There was a cattleman, Ward by name--he's
gone now--and he and I had trouble over cattle. That gave me a
back-set. Pat Hawe, the sheriff here, has been instrumental in
hurting my business. He's not so much of a rancher, but he has
influence at Santa Fe and El Paso and Douglas. I made an enemy
of him. I never did anything to him. He hates Gene Stewart, and
upon one occasion I spoiled a little plot of his to get Gene in
his clutches. The real reason for his animosity toward me is that
he loves Florence, and Florence is going to marry me."

"Alfred!"

"What's the matter, Majesty? Didn't Florence impress you
favorably?" he asked, with a keen glance.

"Why--yes, indeed. I like her. But I did not think of her in
relation to you--that way. I am greatly surprised. Alfred, is
she well born? What connections?"

"Florence is just a girl of ordinary people. She was born in
Kentucky, was brought up in Texas. My aristocratic and wealthy
family would scorn--"

"Alfred, you are still a Hammond," said Madeline, with uplifted
head.

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