As they drew near the mountains, the long ’dobe walls of Hinchman’s suddenly developed out of its misty background of mountain, mesquite and cottonwood. It looked more like a fort than any ranch the boys had ever seen before. Built during Apache times, its long outer walls were bare save for a few small black windows up near the eaves of the red tile roof. All around it was a bare, level space of desert, with not a single grease bush for cover. Even now the Navahos or the Apaches _might_ tear loose again over some real or imaginary grievance, and Hinchman’s was an outpost in their country. The sharp clip-clop of their ponies’ hoofs rang on the stone flagging as they rode under the ’dobe arch into the big patio within the walls of Hinchman’s. A couple of Indians took their horses as the boys dismounted and looked curiously around them. Here was a sort of square court, with a well surrounded by peach trees forming the center of the stone driving space. An inner wall, with Spanish tiled roof sloping inward all around, so as to turn the rainfall into the court drain cistern and also be protected from rifle fire, formed a side to the living rooms and stables that surrounded the patio. The windows in these were larger, but also more than man high, and each room had a door, mostly open, showing glimpses of the dark, cool depths within. In one of them stood a huge, white-haired giant waving his arms joyfully. “Howdy, Colvin!--Howdy! Get right down! Sho’ is glad to see y’u!” roared the giant, running out to take the roan’s bridle reins. “How!--Hinchy,--you old war-in-eye! Gad, but you look good to me!” chortled the Colonel, wringing Hinchman’s hand. He leaped from his horse, and the two old Army comrades hugged each other in a ponderous bear dance about the patio. After an exchange of soul-satisfying punches the boys were introduced. They decided they were going to like this man. Black-eyed and long-nosed, he was all of six feet four in his boots; his smile was constant and kindly, and there was a merry twinkle in his eye that matched the Colonel’s own. “Shore you look peaked, old-timer!” exclaimed Hinchman, searching the Colonel over with solicitous eyes. “Look like you’d been dragged through a knot-hole,--Jeementley-ding if you don’t!” he cried, aggrieved sympathy in his tones. “Big John told me they’d worked you to death down in Washington, but I never ’spected you’d look like this.” “Oh, I’ll be all right, pronto,” grinned Colonel Colvin. “There wasn’t any end to it, while it lasted, but it’s all over now,--thank God! Enough of me--how’s everything with you, old settler? Still patriarch of all the Indians of this section?” he quizzed.