The Winslow mail., 1923-09-07
CHAPTER XXI
The Ride.

StlllWel J!
The old cattleman stood mute be-
fore her, staring at her white face, at
her eyes of fame.
"Stillwell 1 am Stewards wifew
my Gawd, Miss Majesty" he burst
out. Il knowed somethin' turrible was
wrong. Aw, sure it's pity"
do you think I'll let him be shot
when l know him now, when I'm no
longer blind, when 1 love him2" she
asked, with passionate swiftness. "I
will save him. This is Wednesday
morning. l have thirty-six hours to
save his life. Stillwell, send for Link
and the carl"
She went into her office. Her mind
worked with extraordinary rapidity
and clearness. Her plan, born in one
lightninglike flash of thought, necessi-
tated the careful wording of telegrams
to Washington, to New York, to San
Antonio. These were to senators, rep
resentat1ves, men high in public and
private life, men who would remember
her and who would serve her to their
utmost. Never before had her posi-
tion meant anything to her comparable
with what it meant now. Never in all
her life had money seemed the power
that 1t was then. If she had been
poor A shuddering chill froze the
thought at it's inception. She dispelIed
heartbreaking thoughts. She had
power. She had wealth. She would
set into operation all the unlimited
means these gave her-the wires and
pulleys and strings underneath the sur
face of political and International life,
the open, free, purchasing value of
money or the deep, underground, mys-
terious, incalculably powerful influ-
ence moved by gold. She could save
Stewart.
When she went outside the car was
there with Link, helmet in hand,
cool, bright CLEAN in his eyes, and with
Stillwell, losing his haggard misery,
beginning to respond to Madeline's
spirit.
"Link, drive StillwelI to Ell Cajon in
time for him to catch the Ell Paso
train," she said. "Wait there for his
return ,and if any message comes
from him, telephone it at once to me-"
Then she gave Stillwell the kilograms
to send from Eel Cajon and drafts to
cash In Ell Paso. She instructed him
to go before the rebel junta, then sta
toned at Juarez, to explain the situa-
tion, to bid them expect communica-
tions from Washington officials re-
questing and advising Stewards ex-
change as a prisoner Of war, to offer
to buy his release from the rebel au-
thorities.
There was crack, a muffled sound
bursting into roar, and the big car
jerked forward to bound over the edge
of the slope, to leap down the long in
cline, to shoot out upon the level val
ley floor and disappear in moving dust.
Madeline endured patiently, endured
for long interminable hours while hold
ing to hope with indomitable will.
No message came. At sunset she
went outdoors, suffering a torment of
accommodating suspense. Night fell.
She prayed for the sun not to rise, not
to begin it's short twelve-hour journey
toward what might be a fatal setting
for Stewart. But the dawn did tighten,
swiftly she thought, remorselessly.
Daylight had broken, and this was
Thursday!
Sharp ringing at the telephone ben
startled her, reused her into action.
She ran to answer the call.
"Hello-hello-Mis Majesty" came
the hurried reply. "This s Link talk
in. Messages for you. Favorable, the
operator said. I'm to ride out with
them. I'll come a-hummin'."
That was ALL Madeline heard the
bang Of the receiver as Stevens threw
it down. Favorable! Then StillweH
had been successful. Her heart leapad
hlMnnt1.