We are going into the heart of Arizona, to places where not half-a-dozen white men, even counting Mexicans as white men, have ever set foot; at least, where not half-a-dozen have ever come back alive from, though maybe there are hundreds who have tried." "Then I suppose you are going to look for some very rich mine, Dave ?" "That is so; I will tell you how it came about, and queerly enough, it wur pretty well the same way as your friend and me came together.

My mates and me were coming down from the hills when we heard a shot fired in a wood ahead of us.

It wasn't none of our business, but we went on at a trot, thinking as how some white men had been attacked by greasers." "What are greasers ?" Tom asked.
Dave laughed.
"A greaser is just a Mexican.

Why they call them so I don't know; but that has been their name always as long as I came in the country.

Well, we ran down and came sudden upon two greasers who were kneeling by a man lying in the road, and seemed to be searching his pockets.