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.