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"That's what I'm tryin' ter do, an' if yer don't give up peaceful, I'm goin' through yer, minute."
"Do you know who he is?"
"I've got my suspicions. I see a feller up to Phoenix what's ther dead ringer fer him, an' his name wasn't d.i.c.kson then."
"What was it?"
"It was Fancy Farnsworth."
"I guess you're on, Bud. But Mr. Farnsworth asked me to keep it dark, and, as it is Christmas, I consented to do so. Remember, this is the time for brotherly love and peace toward all men. It wasn't much to do, and I invented the name of d.i.c.kson for him myself. What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothin', if yer like ter bring cattle like that ter our Chrismus festivities. Fer me, I wouldn't."
"I guess he's not as bad as that."
"He's worse."
"Explain."
"Well, if yer don't know, I will, an' let yer chew on it, an' see if yer want ter take any chances on him. Now, Farnsworth ain't his real name, neither. D'y'ever hear tell o' ther Somber Pa.s.s ma.s.sacree, where a tenderfoot immigrant named Spooner an' his family was killed, an' their wagons an' horses, an' a pile o' money what Spooner had brought with him ter start a cattle ranch an' buy stock with, wuz taken? D'y'ever hear tell o' that?"
"Sure. It's part of the history of the Territory."
"D'y'ever hear any suspicions cast upon n.o.body?"
"I never did. That is, I never heard any one specifically charged with the crime. Did you?"
"I did, an' his other name was Farnsworth, only that wasn't ther name he went by at that time. He's ther feller who was p'inted out ter me as ther devil what led ther band o' cutthroats what killed ther Spooner family fer a measly few thousands o' dollars. That's what I meant if yer knew who yer was bringin' ter yer happy home."
"Why, that crime was committed five years ago, and d.i.c.kson or Farnsworth, as he calls himself, was too young then to be engaged in anything of that sort."
"He looks young, but he ain't. He's ther feller. Look out fer him, Ted."
"Don't you tip off who he is, Bud. I brought him here because it is Christmas, and he's going to stay. He's going to get a square deal here if I have to fight for him."
"Oh, I won't say nothin', but I'd like ter slip a pair o' handcuffs onto them smooth, white wrists o' hisn, jest ther same. But why is he here?
What's he doin' in this part o' ther country?"
"I don't know, Bud. He asked me when he met me and knew who I was if I had heard the news about him. I hadn't, and told him so, but he did not volunteer any information on the subject."
"Whar did he come from? Did he tell you?"
"Yes, he said he had come from Rodeo; starting early this morning."
"Then look fer a big piece o' news from Rodeo right soon."
"How do you know?"
"I know this, if Farnsworth left Rodeo airly this mornin' thar was some good reason fer it. I reckon it's a killin'. But he's a chump ter stop off here. If anything has been pulled off at Rodeo, ther whole country will be out after him, fer Fancy, so called fer his pa.s.sion fer good clothes an' high-colored poker chips, they don't like none too well, he's too almighty quick an' slick with his six-shooter, hez got a list o' killin's ter his credit as long as yer arm."
"Well, he's here; let's forget it until after breakfast. But as long as he's here as a guest, he gets all the protection I can give him."
Supper that night was a very merry function in the Bubbly Well ranch house, full of mysterious whisperings and jokes which were only understood by two or three at a time.
Mr. d.i.c.kson, as the latest guest, occupied a seat at the left hand of the host, and Ted again noticed the remarkable resemblance between the two, although it did not seem to be apparent to the others; at least, no one mentioned it.
After supper was over, and the Chinese cook and waiter had cleared the room, the major brought out a violin, and asked if any one could play it.
"Clay kin jest make a fiddle sing!" shouted Bud, dragging the modest Kentuckian forward.
There was a piano in the living room, and Stella and Clay went to it, and while Clay played the violin, Stella accompanied him.
Lively airs were demanded, and the ranch house fairly rang with the clapping of feet as Bud and Carl and Kit danced reels and jigs and cake walks, and the laughter of the boys at Bud's jokes and Carl's lingual mistakes.
But at last they became tired of music. It was ten o'clock, and the major disappeared for a few minutes, then entered, leading the way for the two Chinamen, who bore between them baskets of rosy apples, dishes of nuts and raisins and candies, and pitchers of cider.
Although the day had been warm enough in the sun, the night was cool, and the fire that leaped high in the fireplace made the room cozy and comfortable, and one could well imagine that outside was the snow glistening under the stars, and hear the far-away jingle of the sleigh bells.
They sat around the fireplace eating apples and cracking nuts, talking nonsense and laughing at Bud's comic antics, until even Farnsworth relaxed from the air of anxiety he had borne all evening, and once or twice laughed.
But Bud kept his eye on him, for he was distrustful of him, and believed that he was up to some trick.
At the end of the living room, between two ma.s.sive deer heads, hung a big clock, and, while they were still cracking nuts and jokes it began to toll the hour of midnight.
Instantly every one was on his or her feet shouting "Merry Christmas!"
and shaking hands all around. Farnsworth was not neglected because he was a stranger, and Stella was the very first to wish him happiness on this Christmas Day.
Ted was the last to press forward and with all sincerity wished him happiness, and, as he did so, he noticed that the young fellow was very pale, and that his eyes were filled with unshed tears as he looked from Ted to the major, who was fairly beaming with happiness and joy at the great success of his Christmas Eve party, which, he said, was the finest ever held in Arizona.
Then Clay sat down to the piano and began to play a march, and Bud, with a great flourish, unlocked and threw open the door of the guest room.
Every one started back in surprise, while a shout went up that shook the roof; but the old major hadn't a word to say. He simply stared, growing pale and red by turns. He was deeply affected, and Farnsworth had retired to a far corner, with his face buried in his hands. What memories stirred him that this desperate young man should be so shaken?
Inside the room all was aglow with myriads of candles which sparkled from a small pine tree, which was hung with numerous packages and strings of popcorn. Now every one understood the mysterious movements of Bud and Stella.
But the most marvelous thing of all was the enormous figure of Santa Claus, dressed in a coat of red, liberally trimmed with fur, and a long beard sweeping his breast, sitting on the back of a splendid little bay pony that was none too quiet in the midst of the light and noise.
"Where did it all come from?" asked Ted of Stella, as they were standing together admiring the tree.
"Oh, Bud and I thought it out for a surprise for you and the boys before we left Phoenix, and one afternoon, when you were busy, we went shopping and brought all these things. If we hadn't come here, we were going to have the tree in the dining room of the hotel," she answered.
"It was a great idea, and just like you, Stella. It has made this like Christmas, indeed. We couldn't have had a better one at Moon Valley."
"But look at Major Caruthers," said Stella, pulling Ted by the sleeve.
The old major was actually on the verge of tears.
"I have never been so near the dear home of my boyhood as this evening, with all you happy, generous young people around me," he said.