With these thoughts called up by the unlooked-for advent of Ezekiel under his roof, he continued to gaze moodily into the garden. Near the house were scattered several uncouth varieties of cacti which seemed to have lost all semblance of vegetable growth, and had taken rude likeness to beasts and human figures. One high-shouldered specimen, partly hidden in the shadow, had the appearance of a man with a cloak or serape thrown over his left shoulder. As Demorest's wandering eyes at last became fixed upon it, he fancied he could trace the faint outlines of a pale face, the lower part of which was hidden by the folds of the serape. There certainly was the forehead, the curve of the dark eyebrows, the shadow of a nose, and even as he looked more steadily, a glistening of the eyes upturned to the moonlight. A sudden chill seized him. It was a horrible fancy, but it looked as might have looked the dead face of Edward Blandford! He started and ran quickly down the steps of the veranda. A slight wind at the same moment moved the long leaves and tendrils of a vine nearest him and sent a faint wave through the garden. He reached the cactus; its fantastic bulk stood plainly before him, but nothing more. “Whar are ye runnin' to?” said the inquiring voice of Ezekiel from the veranda. “I thought I saw some one in the garden,” returned Demorest, quietly, satisfied of the illusion of his senses, “but it was a mistake.” “It mout and it moutn't,” said Ezekiel, dryly. “Thar's nothin' to keep any one out. It's only a wonder that you ain't overrun with thieves and sich like.” “There are usually servants about the place,” said Demorest, carelessly. “Ef they're the same breed ez that Manuel, I reckon I'd almost as leave take my chances in the road. Ef it's all the same to you I kalkilate to put a paytent fastener to my door and winder to-night. I allus travel with them.” Seeing that Demorest only shrugged his shoulders without replying, he continued, “Et ain't far from here that some folks allow is the headquarters of that cattle-stealing gang. The driver of the coach went ez far ez to say that some of these high and mighty Dons hereabouts knows more of it than they keer to tell.” “That's simply a yarn for greenhorns,” said Demorest, contemptuously. “I know all the ranch proprietors for twenty leagues around, and they've lost as many cattle and horses as I have.” “I wanter know,” said Ezekiel, with grim interest. “Then you've already had consid'ble losses, eh? I kalkilate them cattle are vally'ble--about wot figger do you reckon yer out and injured?” “Three or four thousand dollars, I suppose, altogether,” replied Demorest, shortly. “Then you don't take any stock in them yer yarns about the gang being run and protected by some first-class men in Frisco?” said Ezekiel, regretfully.