Afraid to trust it. You go with Link to Agua Prieta. Take the messages sent you in Spanish. They will protect you and secure Stewart's *******. Take Nels with you. Stop for nothing. Tell Link all--trust him--let him drive that car. STILLWELLThe first few lines of Stillwell's message lifted Madeline to the heights of thanksgiving and happiness. Then, reading on, she experienced a check, a numb, icy, sickening pang. At the last line she flung off doubt and dread, and in white, cold passion faced the issue.
"Read," she said, briefly, handing the telegram to Link. He scanned it and then looked blankly up at her.
"Link, do you know the roads, the trails--the desert between here and Agua Prieta?" she asked.
"Thet's sure my old stampin'-ground. An' I know Sonora, too.""We must reach Agua Prieta before sunset--long before, so if Stewart is in some near-by camp we can get to it in--in time.""Miss Majesty, it ain't possible!" he exclaimed. "Stillwell's crazy to say thet.""Link, can an automobile be driven from here into northern Mexico?""Sure. But it 'd take time."
"We must do it in little time," she went on, in swift eagerness.
"Otherwise Stewart may be--probably will be--be shot."Link Stevens appeared suddenly to grow lax, shriveled, to lose all his peculiar pert brightness, to weaken and age.
"I'm only a--a cowboy, Miss Majesty." He almost faltered. It was a singular change in him. "Thet's an awful ride--down over the border. If by some luck I didn't smash the car I'd turn your hair gray. You'd never be no good after thet ride!""I am Stewart's wife," she answered him and she looked at him, not conscious of any motive to persuade or allure, but just to let him know the greatness of her dependence upon him.
He started violently--the old action of Stewart, the memorable action of Monty Price. This man was of the same wild breed.
Then Madeline's words flowed in a torrent. "I am Stewart's wife.
I love him; I have been unjust to him; I must save him. Link, Ihave faith in you. I beseech you to do your best for Stewart's sake--for my sake. I'll risk the ride gladly--bravely. I'll not care where or how you drive. I'd far rather plunge into a canon--go to my death on the rocks--than not try to save Stewart."How beautiful the response of this rude cowboy--to realize his absolute unconsciousness of self, to see the haggard shade burn out of his face, the old, cool, devil-may-care spirit return to his eyes, and to feel something wonderful about him then! It was more than will or daring or sacrifice. A blood-tie might have existed between him and Madeline. She sensed again that indefinable brother-like quality, so fine, so almost invisible, which seemed to be an inalienable trait in these wild cowboys.
"Miss Majesty, thet ride figgers impossible, but I'll do it!" he replied. His cool, bright glance thrilled her. "I'll need mebbe half an hour to go over the car an' to pack on what I'll want."She could not thank him, and her reply was merely a request that he tell Nels and other cowboys off duty to come up to the house.
When Link had gone Madeline gave a moment's thought to preparations for the ride. She placed what money she had and the telegrams in a satchel. The gown she had on was thin and white, not suitable for travel, but she would not risk the losing of one moment in changing it. She put on a long coat and wound veils round her head and neck, arranging them in a hood so she could cover her face when necessary. She remembered to take an extra pair of goggles for Nels's use, and then, drawing on her gloves, she went out ready for the ride.
A number of cowboys were waiting. She explained the situation and left them in charge of her home. With that she asked Nels to accompany her down into the desert. He turned white to his lips, and this occasioned Madeline to remember his mortal dread of the car and Link's driving.
"Nels, I'm sorry to ask you," she added. "I know you hate the car. But I need you--may need you, oh! so much.""Why, Miss Majesty, thet's shore all a mistaken idee of yours about me hatin' the car," he said, in his slow, soft drawl. "Iwas only jealous of Link; an' the boys, they made thet joke up on me about bein' scared of ridin' fast. Shore I'm powerful proud to go. An' I reckon if you hedn't asked me my feelin's might hev been some hurt. Because if you're goin' down among the Greasers you want me."His cool, easy speech, his familiar swagger, the smile with which he regarded her did not in the least deceive Madeline. The gray was still in his face. Incomprehensible as it seemed, Nels had a dread, an uncanny fear, and it was of that huge white automobile.
But he lied about it. Here again was that strange quality of faithfulness.
Madeline heard the buzz of the car. Link appeared driving up the slope. He made a short, sliding turn and stopped before the porch. Link had tied two long, heavy planks upon the car, one on each side, and in every available space he had strapped extra tires. A huge cask occupied one back seat, and another seat was full of tools and ropes. There was just room in this rear part of the car for Nels to squeeze in. Link put Madeline in front beside him, then bent over the wheel. Madeline waved her hand at the silent cowboys on the porch. Not an audible good-by was spoken.
The car glided out of the yard, leaped from level to slope, and started swiftly down the road, out into the open valley. Each stronger rush of dry wind in Madeline's face marked the increase of speed. She took one glance at the winding cattle-road, smooth, unobstructed, disappearing in the gray of distance. She took another at the leather-garbed, leather-helmeted driver beside her, and then she drew the hood of veils over her face and fastened it round her neck so there was no possibility of its blowing loose.