It was an October day in Gila, Arizona. The one street of the mining camp wound around the foothills, and led eastward to Line Canyon, which, at that point, divides Arizona from New Mexico. Four saloons, an opium den, a store of general merchandise,—owned and operated by the mining company,—a repair shop, one large, pretentious adobe house,—the headquarters of the company, where superintendent, assayers, and mining engineers boarded,—several small dwelling houses, and many miners' shacks, constituted the town. A little Further to the eastward, around a bend in the foothills, and near Line Canyon, lay Clayton Ranch,—the most historic, as well as the most picturesque spot in that region. Near the dwelling house, but closer to the river than the Clayton home, stood a little adobe schoolhouse.