AN UNEXPECTED GUEST.
Although it was winter, the air was soft and pleasant, and at noon the
sun shone with some fervor.
It was Arizona, and as Ted Strong sat on Sultan and gazed across the
wide valley, over which the sun's warm rays shimmered above the sand and
cactus, greasewood and sage toward a low-lying ranch house in the far
distance, it did not seem at all like Christmas.
But it was Christmas Eve, in spite of the fact that there was no snow,
no sleigh bells, no apparent use for Santa Claus, and that roses were
blooming in yards where there was sufficient black earth for them to
thrive.
Behind his saddle Ted had a great bundle wrapped in burlap and securely
tied.
For many miles on the way Ted had cast anxious glances behind him, and
occasionally reached back to assure himself that he had not lost his
freight.
This argued that it was a very precious burden.
"I guess that must be the place," mused Ted, as he looked at the
apparently deserted house.
Not a live creature was to be seen about the place, neither man, woman,
nor beast.
"Cheerful-looking prospect for Christmas," Ted continued to soliloquize,
as those who travel or ride on mountain or plain in solitude often get
in the habit of doing.
"Wonder where the folks are?" he continued. "Hope they got here all
right. But, of course, they did. Bud is too good a leader to let them
get off the trail. Besides, they have been long enough on the way to
have got here and back again." Again he paused, musing.
"Well, Sultan, old chap, it has been a long, dry drive, hasn't it?"
Sultan, on hearing his name, gave a toss of his head and a soft snicker,
and Ted's hand passed gently over his beautiful, glossy mane with a
caressing gesture.
"Hello, here comes some one. Wonder who it is. That's the only sign of
life, except a few rattlesnakes and horned toads I've seen since I left
the railroad at San Carlos."
Shading his eyes from the sun, Ted looked for several minutes at the
dark speck bobbing along in the distance, a mere shadow against the
yellow surface of the earth.
"He's taking his time," muttered Ted. "Reckon he's wondering who I am,
and what I'm standing here for. It can't be one of our fellows. I guess
I'll just wait for him to come up and say howdy."
There was a faint trail, or road, which skirted Sombrero Peak, the mass
of multicolored rock at Ted's back, over which he had come on his way
from San Carlos to the Bubbly Well ranch house, which he was now facing
in the distance. But where he was now standing the road branched off to
the west, while a fainter trail lay straight before him to the ranch
house.
Bubbly Well was the ranch of Major Caruthers, an Englishman, and a
retired officer of the British army, who had come to America to pass his
remaining days in the open. He was a well-preserved man, tall, stalwart,
with white hair and a red, fresh-looking face, who could ride well and
was an excellent shot, but who knew nothing about the cattle business.
Ted had met him in Phoenix, at the hotel, and had dropped into "cow
talk." When the English major learned that Ted knew so much about the
cattle business, he told of his ranch at Bubbly Well, confessing that
his own knowledge of steers, cows, round-ups, and the like was so
limited that, instead of making the ranch pay, it had been steadily
losing money for him.
It was then that the major had invited Ted to visit him at the ranch,
look the situation over, and give expert advice how to better the
condition of things.
"I'll tell you what we'll do," said the major; "let's make up a
Christmas party for Bubbly Well. The holidays are so beastly lonely out
here, don't you know, and Christmas knocks me all of a heap. Come out
and help me make things cheerful."
"I'd like to," Ted had said, "but I'm not a free agent. I am with a
party of friends, who are also my partners in the cattle business and
other enterprises. You see, my first duty is to them. I don't know what
their plans are."
At this the major looked considerably crestfallen. Then Ted, as briefly
as he could, told the Englishman all about the broncho boys and their
plans and principles.
As he talked, Major Caruthers occasionally interjected such exclamations
as "Extraordinary!" "Very remarkable!" "Fawncy!"
He was intensely interested in Ted's accounts of some of the adventures
which the members of the Moon Valley outfit had gone through, and when
Ted stopped, with an apology for having consumed so much time in talking
about himself and his friends, the major assured him that he could
listen with pleasure and profit all night if Ted could only go on
telling him such stories.
"My boy, I have the very thing," said the major, after a moment's
thought.
Ted looked at the Englishman inquiringly.
"Do you think your friends, not knowing me, would accept an invitation
to spend Christmas at Bubbly Well, and as long thereafter as they can
and will?"
"That's a very kind thought," said Ted. "You see, we generally contrive
to be at our Moon Valley Ranch at Christmas time, but this year we had
business in this part of the country, and could not finish it in time to
get back home, and were planning to get as much joy out of the day in
the hotel here as we could."
"Christmas in a hotel!" exclaimed the major. "I can't think of anything
more dismal. I'd spend Christmas in my own place even if there wasn't
another live thing there, and nothing to eat but cheese and crackers."
"I feel very much that way myself," laughed Ted.
"Then you'll come?" asked the Englishman eagerly.
"I think my friends will be very glad to accept the invitation,"
answered Ted. "I am sure I should like to, personally, and I thank you
for the privilege and the honor."
"Don't speak of it."
They talked of other things; about sport, and about the dangers of
ranching in that country.
Before they parted it was decided that the broncho boys should visit
Major Caruthers' ranch. They were to take their own mounts on the train
to the nearest railroad station to Bubbly Well, where they would be met
by one of the major's men as a guide.
It was three days before Christmas when all of them, except Ted, arrived
at the ranch and were given a hearty welcome by the Englishman. That is,
all arrived there except the leader of the broncho boys, who had
remained in Phoenix to attend to some business details and do some
shopping, agreeing to follow them later and arrive at the ranch
Christmas Eve.
At the opening of this chapter we find him within sight of Bubbly Well,
with a pack of Christmas presents for all hands on his back, waiting
patiently for the approaching rider.
In the course of a few minutes, the stranger rode up, and, with a cold
and quiet greeting, pulled in his mount, a beautiful chestnut mare, and
looked Ted over from top to toe in a cool manner.
He was a handsome young chap, dressed in such a manner that Ted could
not quite determine what he was. He had not the appearance of a
cow-puncher, nor was he a town man, for he was bronzed 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 backward, and, with almost incredible
rapidity, whipping out a revolver.
His face was white, and had as suddenly assumed an expression in which
fear and determination were equally present.
"No, you don't!" he said slowly and coldly. "You don't get me that way.
I'm not as easy as that."
Ted had made no move to draw his revolver, and was smiling in an amused
sort of way.
"I'm sure I don't want you," he said.
"You're a deputy United States marshal, aren't you?"
"I am, but I'm not after you."
"Then you haven't heard?"
"Nothing about you recently. When I was in this part of the country
before I heard----"
"Oh, you can always hear a lot about a fellow in this rotten part of the
world--except the truth. Then you haven't heard the latest news from
Rodeo?"
"Not a word."
"And you don't want to arrest me?"
"Not now. I wouldn't know what to arrest you for, and I haven't seen a
United States warrant for months."
"I believe I can trust you. You seem to be a square chap, in spite of
what I've heard of you. But I want to tell you one thing: I've got eyes
in the back of my head, and there isn't a quicker man on the draw in
Arizona, so no monkey business. This is not a boast, but a warning."
"I have nothing against you now," said Ted quietly; "but if I ever have,
you'll know it, and have your chance. But I don't see any use in
standing here in the sun palavering. Let's hike to the house yonder.
I've been riding since daybreak without a drink, and I'd like to sample
the major's famous Bubbly Well."
Farnsworth looked sharply at Ted for a moment, then replaced his
revolver, and signaled to lead the way.
They rode in silence along the trail toward the ranch house for several
minutes.
"How shall I introduce you to the major--as Farnsworth?" asked Ted, at
last.
Farnsworth paused to think before replying.
"I think not," he said at last. "If I am to stay there for the night,
there may as well be no unpleasant feeling. Call me anything you like
but that, and I will fall in with it. They may know something about me,
and, while I would be safe while Major Caruthers considered me a guest,
still, it might cause some restraint."
"Probably you are right. How will Mr. Dickson do?"
"As good as any. Say, Strong, you're a brick! I won't forget this."
"This is a sort of truce. Anyway, it's Christmas, and a fellow should
put away malice at such a time."
"Have you malice toward me?"
"No, I can't say that I have. But I have heard things about you that
haven't prepossessed me in your favor."
"Have you ever thought that perhaps you have heard more than the truth?"
"Of course; I know that men are usually painted worse than they are."
"That's true. It's especially true with regard to myself."
For a moment Ted said nothing. He was running over in his mind several
of the stories he had heard about this handsome and daring young fellow.
"Well, I'll take your word for it because it's Christmas," he said at
last.
"I'll make you believe that I'm telling the truth before our
acquaintance ends," said Farnsworth. As Ted looked into his eyes he saw
that they had changed in expression. Now they were bold and brave and
truthful, where before Ted had seen only a cold, cruel, relentless look.
Ted threw back his head, and the Moon Valley yell issued from his mouth.
It instantly transformed the slumbering ranch house. Out of doors, from
around corners, and even as if they sprang out of the ground, appeared
the broncho boys, and the air fairly rang with their shouts of welcome.
"That's the way I'd like to be greeted," said Farnsworth, a little
bitterly.
"Then why don't you fix it so that you are?" asked Ted, smiling.