oused the stranger to immediate interest.

"You don't say! To what part?"

"I don't know exactly."

"Going to Oklahoma, and you don't know to what part?" repeated the man
in surprise.

"I'm going on a ranch somewhere. I was thinking I'd get a map when I got
to Chicago, and decide just where."

"Well, if that don't beat anything I ever heard!"

The intonation which the man gave to his words was such that Bob felt
that he must give some explanation of his indecision, and he returned:

"You see, I'm going to be a cowboy first, and then a ranch owner, and I
didn't want to decide where to go until I could find out where I would
have the best chance."

"Well, it certainly is fortunate that fate led me to get into this car
of all on the train. I can tell you just the place for you to go."

"Have you ever been to Oklahoma?" inquired Bob.

"Have I ever been there? Well, son, I was there off and on for about ten
years, when the government first opened up the land, and you could
travel for miles without seeing anything but Injuns."

The knowledge that his companion was familiar with Oklahoma set Bob's
heart beating rapidly, and the thought that he could gather much useful
information from this peculiar man caused him to forget all annoyance
over the loss of his lunch.

"Then you've really seen a live Indian?" asked Bob, his eyes big with
excitement.

"I seen too many of the critters. See that scar?"

And he tapped his forehead with one of his long fingers.

"Yes," said Bob eagerly.

"Well, it was an Injun gave me that; Flying Horse, they called him."

At the memory of what had evidently been an exciting adventure, the man
lapsed into silence, as though he were re-enacting the events in his
mind.

To Bob his silence was tantalizing. He longed to hear of the experience,
and yet he hesitated to ask point-blank. His interest was so keen,
however, that he could not restrain himself entirely, and he squirmed
restively in his chair.

The movement had the effect of recalling the man from his memories, and
gazing at the lad's eager face, his own broke into a smile, as he said:

"I suppose you'd like to know how it happened?"

"Indeed I should."

"I was punching cows for an old fellow called Sam Ford; a man so mean
you could pull the pith out of a horse-hair and then put his soul
inside, and it would rattle.

"But this story don't concern old Sam, except in so far as I was working
for him. He'd got together a f