conversant with the cowboy's sense of humour. Nothing would have tickled
them more than to bluff me out of a harmless excursion by means of
scareful tales. Shortly Windy Bill turned off to examine a distant bunch
of cattle; and so I rode on alone.

It was coming on toward evening. Against the eastern mountains were
floating tinted mists; and the cañons were a deep purple. The cattle
were moving slowly so that here and there a nimbus of dust caught and
reflected the late sunlight into gamboge yellows and mauves. The magic
time was near when the fierce, implacable day-genius of the desert would
fall asleep and the soft, gentle, beautiful star-eyed night-genius of
the desert would arise and move softly. My pony racked along in the
desert. The mass that represented Hooper's ranch drew imperceptibly
nearer. I made out the green of trees and the white of walls and
building.




CHAPTER II


Hooper's ranch proved to be entirely enclosed by a wall of adobe ten
feet high and whitewashed. To the outside it presented a blank face.
Only corrals and an alfalfa patch were not included. A wide, high
gateway, that could be closed by massive doors, let into a stable yard,
and seemed to be the only entrance. The buildings within were all
immaculate also: evidently Old Man Hooper loved whitewash. Cottonwood
trees showed their green heads; and to the right I saw the sloped
shingled roof of a larger building. Not a living creature was in sight.