“How’d you like to be a border ranger?” asked Belding, laying a hand on Dick’s knee.  “Part of my job here is United States Inspector of Immigration.  I’ve got that boundary line to patrol—­to keep out Chinks and Japs.  This revolution has added complications, and I’m looking for smugglers and raiders here any day.  You’ll not be hired by the U. S. You’ll simply be my ranger, same as Laddy and Jim, who have promised to work for me.  I’ll pay you well, give you a room here, furnish everything down to guns, and the finest horse you ever saw in your life.  Your job won’t be safe and healthy, sometimes, but it’ll be a man’s job—­don’t mistake me!  You can gamble on having things to do outdoors.  Now, what do you say?”

“I accept, and I thank you—­I can’t say how much,” replied Gale, earnestly.

“Good!  That’s settled.  Let’s go out and tell Laddy and Jim.”

Both boys expressed satisfaction at the turn of affairs, and then with Belding they set out to take Gale around the ranch.  The house and several outbuildings were constructed of adobe, which, according to Belding, retained the summer heat on into winter, and the winter cold on into summer.  These gray-red mud habitations were hideous to look at, and this fact, perhaps, made their really comfortable interiors more vividly a contrast.  The wide grounds were covered with luxuriant grass and flowers and different kinds of trees.  Gale’s interest led him to ask about fig trees and pomegranates, and especially about a beautiful specimen that Belding called palo verde.

Belding explained that the luxuriance of this desert place was owing to a few springs and the dammed-up waters of the Rio Forlorn.  Before he had come to the oasis it had been inhabited by a Papago Indian tribe and a few peon families.  The oasis lay in an arroyo a mile wide, and sloped southwest for some ten miles or more.  The river went dry most of the year; but enough water was stored in flood season to irrigate the gardens and alfalfa fields.

“I’ve got one never-failing spring on my place,” said Belding.  “Fine, sweet water!  You know what that means in the desert.  I like this oasis.  The longer I live here the better I like it.  There’s not a spot in southern Arizona that’ll compare with this valley for water or grass or wood.  It’s beautiful and healthy.  Forlorn and lonely, yes, especially for women like my wife and Nell; but I like it....And between you and me, boys, I’ve got something up my sleeve.  There’s gold dust in the arroyos, and there’s mineral up in the mountains.  If we only had water!  This hamlet has steadily grown since I took up a station here.  Why, Casita is no place beside Forlorn River.  Pretty soon the Southern Pacific will shoot a railroad branch out here.  There are possibilities, and I want you boys to stay with me and get in on the ground floor.  I wish this rebel war was over....Well, here are the corrals and the fields.  Gale, take a look at that bunch of horses!”