Climbing out of this gloomy hollow, the road turns sharply to the left, and the men hurried on to overtake their four-footed guide before he should be too long out of their sight.

Just at the top of the little rise, before rounding the turn, they stopped.

A few feet to the right of the road, with his nose at an old gate, stood Croesus.

Nor would he heed Czar's bark commanding him to go on.
On the other side of the fence, an old and long neglected apple orchard, a tumble-down log barn, and the wreck of a house with the fireplace and chimney standing stark and alone, told the story.

The place was one of those old ranches, purchased by the Power Company for the water rights, and deserted by those who once had called it home.