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.
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