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Updated: June 28, 2025
But on this occasion there were no letters from the regiment, until just at the last the clerk called my father's name "J. O. Stillwell!" and again, still louder, but there was no response. Whereupon the clerk held the letter at arm's length, and carefully scrutinized the address. "Well," said he finally, "this is from Jerry Stillwell's boy, in the 61st, so I reckon he's not killed, anyhow."
Both men hurried out, and while the horses were being brought up and saddled Madeline and Florence put away the breakfast-dishes, then speedily donned spurs, sombreros, and gauntlets. "Here are the horses ready," called Alfred. "Flo, that black Mexican horse is a prince." The girls went out in time to hear Stillwell's good-by as he mounted and spurred away.
All that had been left of the old Spanish house which had been Stillwell's home for so long was the bare, massive structure, and some of this had been cut away for new doors and windows. Every modern convenience, even to hot and cold running water and acetylene light, had been installed; and the whole interior painted and carpentered and furnished.
"Cannot your property be reclaimed?" she asked. "How much do you owe?" "Ten thousand dollars would clear me and give me another start. But, Majesty, in this country that's a good deal of money, and I haven't been able to raise it. Stillwell's in worse shape than I am." Madeline went over to Alfred and put her hands on his shoulders. "We must not be in debt."
So long as you live nothin' but grass an' clover, an' cool water in shady places, an' dusty swales to roll in an' rest an' sleep!" Then he untied the pack and, taking a small, heavy sack from it, he came back upon the porch. Deliberately he dumped the contents of the sack at Stillwell's feet. Piece after piece of rock thumped upon the floor.
The Englishman looked mystified. "Rubs me the wrong way, you know." "Oh, very good, very good. I must remember that." "He rather fancies his own game, too," said Jack, "and he has come on the last year or two. In more ways than one," he added as an afterthought. As they faced each other on the court it was Stillwell's voice that rang out: "Now then, England!"
Furthermore, Rupert Stillwell had done extremely well in all his business enterprises and had come to be recognised as one of the coming young men of the district, indeed of the Province, with sure prospects of advancement in public estimation. Hence, the frequency with which Stillwell's big Hudson Six could be seen parked on the gravelled drive before the Rectory front door.
Stillwell's cowboys were always chasing these vaqueros off land that belonged to Stillwell. He owned twenty thousand acres of unfenced land adjoining the open range. Don Carlos possessed more acreage than that, and his cattle were always mingling with Stillwell's. And in turn Don Carlos's vaqueros were always chasing Stillwell's cattle away from the Mexican's watering-place.
So overwhelming was Stillwell's defeat, so humiliating his exhibition of total collapse of morale that the company received the result with but slight manifestation of feeling. Without any show of sympathy even his friends slipped away, as if unwilling to add to his humiliation by their commiseration.
What with Monty's borrowed coat, with its dazzling effect upon Ambrose, and Link's oft-repeated allusion to Ed's matrimonial state, and Stillwell's vociferated disgust, and the clamoring good intention and pursuit of the cowboy supporters, and the embarrassing presence of the ladies, Ambrose and Ed wore through all manner of strange play until it became ridiculous.
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