the international line, American cowboys fighting with the rebels,
and wild stories of bold raiders and bandits. But as opportunity,
and adventure, too, had apparently given him a wide berth in
Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, he had struck southwest for the Arizona
border, where he hoped to see some stirring life. He did not
care very much what happened. Months of futile wandering in the
hope of finding a place where he fitted had inclined Richard to
his father's opinion.

It was after dark one evening in early October when Richard arrived
in Casita. He was surprised to find that it was evidently a town
of importance. There was a jostling, jabbering, sombreroed crowd
of Mexicans around the railroad station. He felt as if he were
in a foreign country. After a while he saw several men of his
nationality, one of whom he engaged to carry his luggage to a
hotel. They walked up a wide, well-lighted street lined with
buildings in which were bright windows. Of the many people
encountered by Gale most were Mexicans. His guide explained that
the smaller half of Casita lay in Arizona, the other half in Mexico,
and of several thousand inhabitants the majority belonged on the
southern side of the street, which was the boundary line. He also
said that rebels had entered the town that day, causing a good
deal of excitement.

Gale was almost at the end of his financial resources, which fact
occasioned him to turn away from a pretentious hotel and to ask
his guide for a cheaper lodging-house. When this was found, a
sight of the loungers in the office, and also a desire for comfort,
persuaded Gale to change his traveling-clothes for rough outing
garb and boots.