It was the middle of the afternoon when they crossed the second range, which they did by means of a trail which went through a gap, thus cutting off the worst of the ascent. Once through the gap, they came out upon a huge mesa from which they looked down upon the valley in which Casa Grande was located. On the mesa, the tired horses broke into the little easy-going jog which mountain ponies love. Scott watched Polly's sparkling eyes with real gratification. He had chosen to go by trail rather than by road very largely that she might have this experience. He wanted her to see more of the country before she went back to the city and its ways. "She's a natural out-of-doors woman, and she's never had the chance to find it out," he mused. "Better than a golf course?" he asked, as they trotted across the broad mesa. "Oh!" she cried, reproachfully. "It's like the happy hunting grounds! I never understood before why the Indians called their Heaven that. It was because they were thinking of space and openness and freedom. I think it beats our kind of Heaven all hollow," finished the cheerful product of 1920. Finally they came out on the other side of the little river bed, which lay below the mesa and was entered by means of a rocky staircase, crossed a round-topped hill, and there, in a flat little valley surrounded by hills, the rear view of the Casa Grande ranch-house became visible. Two or three smaller buildings stood near it and a fence marked the corral. CHAPTER XI CASA GRANDE There was a great stillness about the place; the whole panorama suggested a picture rather than an actuality, except for the white clouds sailing slowly about in the blue sky, and an occasional bird flying from one tree or bush to another. "I don't like things being so still," said Scott. "Let's push on." Riding around to the front of the house--a long, narrow, adobe building, they came upon the first real sign of habitation; a brown hen, who, accompanied by her family, was scratching around the walk with an immense show of industry; while on the veranda sat two men. One was a white man; the other, a Chinese, dressed in the dark blue shirt and trousers of his people. As the newcomers dismounted, the white man came forward. "Humph, it's you!" he remarked, with evident relief. "Well, here is what is left of a once prosperous household." He was a little man, thin and wiry, with bushy brown hair and beard, and keen dark eyes. His hands, slender and with long white fingers, played nervously with a quirt which he held, apparently for no purpose than that those nervous members might have occupation. "What's happened?" demanded Scott. "How do, Li Yow?" as the Chinaman came forward smilingly to take the horses. "All gone," he said, blandly. "Laided. One hen, some shickens--notting else left." "Raided! Did that young rascal----" began Hard, when Herrick interrupted impatiently.