niting to form streams and rivers, abundantly watered the
valley.

The black reaches of timber extended down to the grazing-uplands, and
these bordered on the sloping golden wheat-fields, which in turn
contrasted so vividly with the lower green alfalfa-pastures; then came
the orchards with their ruddy, mellow fruit, and lastly the bottom-lands
where the vegetable-gardens attested to the wonderful richness of the
soil. From the mountain-side the valley seemed a series of colored
benches, stepping down, black to gray, and gray to gold, and gold to
green with purple tinge, and on to the perfectly ordered, many-hued
floor with its innumerable winding, tree-bordered streams glinting in
the sunlight.

The extremes of heat and cold never visited Golden Valley. Spokane and
the Bend country, just now sweltering in a torrid zone, might as well
have been in the Sahara, for all the effect it had on this garden spot
of all the Inland Empire. It was hot in the valley, but not unpleasant.
In fact, the greatest charm in this secluded vale was its pleasant
climate all the year round. No summer cyclones, no winter blizzards, no
cloudbursts or bad thunderstorms. It was a country that, once lived in,
could never be left.

There were no poor inhabitants in that great area of twenty-five hundred
miles; and there were many who were rich. Prosperous little towns dotted
the valley floor; and the many smooth, dusty, much-used roads all led to
Ruxton, a wealthy and fine city.

* * * * *

Anderson, the rancher, had driven his car to Spokane. Upon his return he
had with him a detective, whom he expected to use in the I.W.W.
investigations, and a neighbor rancher. They had left Spokane early and
had endured almost insupportable dust and heat. A welcome change began
as they slid down from the bare desert into the valley; and once across
the Copper River, Anderson began to breathe freer and to feel he was
nearing home.

"God's country!" he said, as he struck the first low swell of rising
land, where a cool wind from off the wooded and watered hills greeted
his face. Dust there still was, but it seemed a different kind and
smelled of apple-orchards and alfalfa-fields. Here were hard, smooth
roads, and Anderson sped his car miles and miles through a country that
was a verdant fragrant bower, and across bright, shady streams and by
white little hamlets.

At Huntington he dropped his neighbor rancher, and also the d