Nels’s long arm shot out, and his hand fell upon Stewart, holding him down.

“Shore I’m sorry,” said Nels, slowly.  “Then you was goin’ to hit the trail?”

“I am going to.  Let go, Nels.”

“Shore you ain’t goin’, Gene?”

“Let go, damn you!” cried Stewart, as he wrestled free.

“What’s wrong?” asked Nels, lifting his hand again.

“Man!  Don’t touch me!”

Nels stepped back instantly.  He seemed to become aware of Stewart’s white, wild passion.  Again Stewart moved to mount.

“Nels, don’t make me forget we’ve been friends,” he said.

“Shore I ain’t fergettin’,” replied Nels.  “An’ I resign my job right here an’ now!”

His strange speech checked the mounting cowboy.  Stewart stepped down from the stirrup.  Then their hard faces were still and cold while their eyes locked glances.

Madeline was as much startled by Nels’s speech as Stewart.  Quick to note a change in these men, she now sensed one that was unfathomable.

“Resign?” questioned Stewart.

“Shore.  What ’d you think I’d do under circumstances sich as has come up?”

“But see here, Nels, I won’t stand for it.”

“You’re not my boss no more, an’ I ain’t beholdin’ to Miss Hammond, neither.  I’m my own boss, an’ I’ll do as I please.  Sabe, senor?”

Nels’s words were at variance with the meaning in his face.

“Gene, you sent me on a little scout down in the mountains, didn’t you?” he continued.

“Yes, I did,” replied Stewart, with a new sharpness in his voice.

“Wal, shore you was so good an’ right in your figgerin’, as opposed to mine, that I’m sick with admirin’ of you.  If you hedn’t sent me—­wal, I’m reckonin’ somethin’ might hev happened.  As it is we’re shore up against a hell of a proposition!”

How significant was the effect of his words upon all the cowboys!  Stewart made a fierce and violent motion, terrible where his other motions had been but passionate.  Monty leaped straight up into the air in a singular action as suggestive of surprise as it was of wild acceptance of menace.  Like a stalking giant Nick Steele strode over to Nels and Stewart.  The other cowboys rose silently, without a word.

Madeline and her guests, in a little group, watched and listened, unable to divine what all this strange talk and action meant.

“Hold on, Nels, they don’t need to hear it,” said Stewart, hoarsely, as he waved a hand toward Madeline’s silent group.

“Wal, I’m sorry, but I reckon they’d as well know fust as last.  Mebbe thet yearnin’ wish of Miss Helen’s fer somethin’ to happen will come true.  Shore I—­”

“Cut out the joshin’,” rang out Monty’s strident voice.

It had as decided an effect as any preceding words or action.  Perhaps it was the last thing needed to transform these men, doing unaccustomed duty as escorts of beautiful women, to their natural state as men of the wild.