Page 371 of 439

It was two hours later, when she was waltzing with Jed again,

that Arlie caught sight of a face that disturbed her greatly. It

was a countenance disfigured by a ragged scar, running from the

bridge of the nose. She had last seen it gazing into the window

of Alec Howard's cabin on a certain never-to-be-forgotten night.

"Who is that man--the one leaning against the door jamb, just

behind Slim Leroy?" she asked.

"He's a fellow that calls himself Johnson. His real name is

Struve," Jed answered carelessly.

"He's the man that shot the Texas lieutenant," she said.

"I dare say. He's got a good reason for shooting him. The man

broke out of the Arizona penitentiary, and Fraser came north to

rearrest him. At least, that's my guess. He wouldn't have been

here to-night if he hadn't figured Fraser too sick to come. Watch

him duck when he learns the ranger's here."