"She was a mystery to most the folks at Rodeo, an' all over the mountains, for that matter. Nobody knew where she came from. She didn't mix much with the folks, but lived in a swell house, what she had built for herself, with only two servants, a Japanese man and woman." "Was she rich?" "Said to be. Had interests in a good many mines, an' owned the Cristobal Turquoise Mine." "Anybody ever learn where her mail came from?" "Yes, she frequently got letters from England, and occasionally sent large drafts to a bank in London to her credit." "How do you know this?" "Early this morning, when the crime was discovered, and every one was talking about it, Mr. Rossington, the banker, told that much to a crowd at the hotel." "Had she any particular friend in Rodeo?" "Only Farnsworth, who came to the town at intervals and put up at the hotel. When he was in town he generally spent an hour or two at her house in the afternoon or evening, and then faded away as mysteriously as he came." "Did he appear to be in love with her?" "All I know about that is what I have heard since Miss Mowbray's death." "There has been gossip, then?" "Not what you would call gossip, exactly. Only folks who had seen them riding and driving together a few times seemed to think that, while she was very much in love with him, he never made any fuss over her." "How long have you known Farnsworth?" "About three years. Ever since he has been traveling through this part of Arizona." "Don't you know that he is a very undemonstrative man, and that if he really cared for any one he is not the sort to exhibit it?" "Yes, I reckon Fancy is a cold sort of a proposition." "How have you got him sized up?" "I'd hardly know how to tell it. He's some of a mystery to me, and he ain't never let no one as I know of snuggle beneath his jacket." "But, as an officer, you must have kept some sort of tab on him." "Sure. I know Fancy as well as most. I always looked upon him as a crook, and a very dangerous man with a gun." "Has he ever been convicted of a crime?" "Ain't never been able to land him. Generally he gets away by some slick trick, just as he did to-night, or he bluffs off the fellows who go after him with his guns." "Has any crime ever been fastened on him so positively that there was no doubt that he committed it?" "Can't say there was; but that don't cut no ice, for he's been in several killings where no gun got busy but his, an' we've been able to track him right up to crimes, but there we lose him. He's too slick to get caught." "Something like the murder of Miss Mowbray? He is seen leaving the vicinity of the murder, and is immediately suspected of the crime, although probably fifty other men in the town were near the house or on the road before the murder was discovered, eh?" "That's true enough. I passed the house myself on my way home, just before midnight." "Why don't you arrest yourself as a suspect? But how was the murder discovered?"