Another ace for Ananias

In Short

This Western comedy follows a band of Montana cowpunchers who pride themselves on their skill at "prevaricating"—the art of the elaborate lie. When one of their own, the supposedly honest Telescope Tolliver, attempts a deceitful scheme to impress his wealthy, estranged relatives, his friends decide to "help" him. What follows is a chaotic chain reaction of identity swaps, fake marriages, and kidnapped children. The story has endured as a classic of the genre because it captures the dry, self-deprecating wit of the frontier and the absurdity of social pretension.

The Story

The men of the Cross J ranch—Chuck Warner, Muley Bowles, and their companions—live by a code where honesty is considered a lack of imagination. They view life as a poker game where the best liar wins. The trouble begins when Telescope Tolliver, the group’s self-proclaimed "honest man," receives a letter from his wealthy Aunt Alicia in Kentucky. Having spent years writing home to exaggerate his success, Telescope has claimed he owns a massive ranch, has a beautiful wife, and has fathered a child. Now, his relatives are coming to Montana to see his supposed empire for themselves.

Panicked, Telescope tries to flee, but his friends insist on "helping" him maintain the facade. They hatch a scheme to make the ranch look prosperous and provide Telescope with a family. The absurdity reaches a fever pitch when they convince a local barber, Ricky, to impersonate the wife, and kidnap a local Indigenous child to play the role of the "firstborn." Meanwhile, a series of misunderstandings involving a local woman, Hulda, and a confused preacher, "Old Testament" Tilton, further complicates the social landscape.

As the relatives arrive, the tension mounts. Every time a lie is exposed, the group invents a more preposterous one to cover it, leading to a series of physical altercations, including a bizarre duel involving a wagon-spoke and a buffalo gun. The narrative finally unravels when it is revealed that the relatives were never looking for Telescope at all; they were coming to visit the real owner of the neighboring land, a man named Jay Bird. The identity of the relatives is mistaken, the "wife" (Muley in a wig and dress) is unmasked, and the "child" is returned to its family. In the end, the group gathers at a blacksmith’s shop to melt down their prize—a bronze emblem awarded to the best liar—acknowledging that when an honest man finally decides to lie, he is far more dangerous than any professional storyteller.

How It Unfolds

The web of deceit Telescope Tolliver is caught in a trap of his own making after writing years of embellished letters to his wealthy Kentucky family. His friends, led by the master prevaricator Chuck Warner, decide that the only way to save Telescope from his embarrassment is to stage a elaborate performance of his success.

The cast is assembled The men recruit a local barber to play the role of Telescope's wife, while a stolen child is introduced to complete the illusion of a happy family. They struggle to maintain the act as the relatives prove to be surprisingly demanding and observant guests.

The facade crumbles The arrival of the real ranch owner and the interference of a local man looking to fight over a misunderstood marriage proposal force the truth into the open. The physical comedy peaks as the "wife" is exposed and the kidnapped child is reclaimed by its father.

The final reckoning The group realizes that their frantic attempts to protect the lie have only caused more chaos. They finally decide to destroy the symbol of their "art," recognizing that their obsession with out-lying one another has brought them to the brink of ruin.

The People

Telescope Tolliver is the central paradox: he claims to be a man of conscience and honesty, yet his inability to navigate the world without inflating his own status ruins his life. His frustration with his friends’ "art" is matched only by his desperation to win his family's approval.

Chuck Warner is the primary architect of the chaos. Small, Roman-nosed, and capable of wiggling his ears to signal his co-conspirators, he views life as a series of skits. He is the master of the "long lie," always looking for a way to turn a dull moment into a performance.

Muley Bowles serves as the group’s poet and resident "female" impersonator. His massive girth and high-pitched voice make him a particularly absurd choice for the role of Telescope's wife, a role he embraces with a commitment that nearly gets him killed.

Aunt Alicia and her party represent the stiff, moralistic world of the East. Their haughty expectations and persistent questioning act as the primary catalyst for the boys' increasingly frantic improvisations.

In Its Own Voice

“You don’t need go kiootin’ around about your honesty. You’ve got to be good, ’cause you ain’t got the ability to lie. Sabe? Honest to gosh, tall-feller, you’ll never have nothing in this vale of tears.”

Chuck Warner explains his philosophy of life to Telescope, arguing that honesty is a liability in a world that requires imagination.

“Knowledge is a powerful good thing, but there never was a man wise enough to know which way a dill pickle is going to squirt.”

The narrator uses this folksy wisdom to describe the unpredictable, volatile nature of the group’s schemes.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book is an inquiry into the nature of social identity and the performance of self. It questions whether the "truth" is a fixed state or merely a consensus reached through storytelling. The characters argue that life is dull without the "art" of the lie, yet the plot serves as a cautionary tale about the consequences of living in a fictional world. The book explores the tension between the rugged, individualistic spirit of the frontier and the stifling expectations of the outside world, suggesting that both sides are equally prone to vanity and deception.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the classic, deadpan humor of the Old West will find much to admire here. The narrative feels like sitting on a porch listening to a seasoned storyteller weave a tall tale; the prose is rhythmic, colorful, and sharp. It is a light, fast-paced read, though modern readers should be prepared for the period-typical, often crude, attitudes regarding women and Indigenous people that surface in the characters' dialogue and actions. These attitudes are part of the world the book inhabits, and they provide a stark look at the era’s prejudices.

What lingers after the final page is not the specific plot, but the warmth of the friendship between the main characters. Despite their constant attempts to manipulate and embarrass one another, there is a deep, underlying loyalty that keeps the "Cross J" outfit together. It is a story about the absurdity of trying to be someone you aren't, and the relief that comes from finally dropping the mask, even if that mask is a Mother Hubbard dress and a yellow wig.