ed by the sun, and
he sat his mare like a born horseman.

His clothes were dark, save for a tan vest which buttoned close around
his throat; his boots were of the very best quality, and fitted the calf
of his leg snugly, and on his head was an expensive Stetson, with the
skin of a rattlesnake for a band.

But it was his face that affected Ted with a sort of dislike that yet
had something of fascination in it, while at the same time it puzzled
him, it was such a strange mixture of good and bad.

"Can you tell me what ranch house that is over there, and who owns it?"
said the stranger, in a well-bred manner that yet had the freedom of the
West in it.

"Yes," answered Ted. "That is the Bubbly Well Ranch, and it is owned by
Major Caruthers."

A strange expression passed over the young fellow's face.

"Jack Caruthers--do you happen to know?"

"I have never heard him called Jack," said Ted, smiling. "He signs
himself 'John Stairs Caruthers.'"

"It must be the same," said the young fellow musingly.

"Do you know him?" asked Ted.

"Well, no. That is, not exactly." The stranger thought a moment. "I
suppose I'll have to put up somewhere for the night; it's a dickens of a
way to anywhere out here. I started from Rodeo, across the mountain,
early this morning, thinking I could make it to San Carlos by night,
but----"

"You couldn't get there before morning if you rode at top speed," said
Ted, as the other hesitated.

"Are you going to the ranch house?" asked the stranger suddenly.

"Yes."

"Do you think your friend would put me up for the night?"

"I haven't a doubt of it. And to-morrow, too. You know this is Christmas
Eve."

"So it is. I hadn't thought of it. My name is Farnsworth--Hilary
Farnsworth."

The young fellow looked defiantly at Ted, who had started slightly at
the name.

"Do you want to take me to the house now?" asked Farnsworth, with a
slightly contemptuous smile.

So this was Farnsworth. "Fancy" Farnsworth, as he was called in the
Southwest. Ted looked at him with new interest, and the other stared
back with his gray eyes, which were as handsome as a woman's, and yet
had in their depths a wicked, cruel gleam.

"I don't see why not," said Ted.

"You know me?" asked Farnsworth, with a smile.

"By reputation."

"May I ask your name?"

"Certainly. I beg your pardon. I am Ted Strong."

At this Farnsworth suddenly pulled his horse to its haunches, at the
same time throwing his hand backw