s the only name by which he was known, even among his
benefactors. Bennett said he believed he had forgotten he ever had
another.

That very morning, showing all his white teeth, he had whipped off a
battered old hat of Mexican straw at sight of the general and his fair
daughter, had taken the basket while the orderly led the horses to the
corral, had followed them about the little garden patch while Mrs.
Bennett delightedly showed her lettuce and spinach and the gorgeous bed
of poppies. Then he had brewed delicious chocolate, though condensed
milk was poor substitute for whipped cream, and had prepared such an
appetizing little luncheon, and had made himself so useful, that the
general was moved to say to Bennett that any time the dago tired of his
job he could find one at the fort. "I wonder he stays," said Bennett.
"I only give him five dollars a month, even now, and he could get
twenty, and unlimited monte, at the store; besides, he is mortal 'fraid
of these 'Patchie Mohaves; hell knows why, and hides when he sees 'em
coming."

"Do they never bother you stealing or--some way?" asked the general,
with an anxious glance at the two sturdy little ranchers, five and
three-year-old Bennetts, rolling and wrestling in the sand, showing off
for the benefit of the visitors.

"'Patchie Mohaves?" asked Bennett, looking up in surprise. "Never have!
You know I drove mule team to the agency two years ago, and sort of
grew to them. Why, Minnie, now, thinks as much of them, or most, as she
does of the boys at the post. They're a sort of police, sir. The Tontos
don't dare come down so long as the Mohaves are about here."

"I know," said the general reflectively. "Yet some few bucks drifted
off to the Tontos, and the agent's been raising a row because so many
of them roost down here instead of staying on the reservation, bringing
in game. Did you know that two bands were out--women and all--without
permits, and that was one thing that brought Lieutenant Harris and his
scouts up here?"

"Well, that accounts for our having seen none of them for over two
weeks. They must have gone clean out to the Mesa. General," he
continued anxiously, "they don't like their agent, or that agency.
They're herded in there with Apache Yumas and sick Tontos and Sierra
Blancas--fellows that get better treatment because they're bigger
devils and raise merry hell. _I_ know 'em and the agent don't. I'd move
in to the post if _they_ were out, but we're sa