“Look!  Over to your left!” he whispered.  “See that gang of Indians there—­by the big wagon.  See the short Indian with the chaps.  He’s got a face big as a ham, dark, fierce.  That’s Shadd! . . .  You ought to know him.  Shadd and his outfit here!  How’s that for nerve?  But he pulls a rein with the Mormons.”

Shefford’s keen eye took in a lounging group of ten or twelve Indians and several white men.  They did not present any great contrast to the other groups except that they were isolated, appeared quiet and watchful, and were all armed.  A bunch of lean, racy mustangs, restive and spirited, stood near by in charge of an Indian.  Shefford had to take a second and closer glance to distinguish the half-breed.  At once he recognized in Shadd the broad-faced squat Indian who had paid him a threatening visit that night long ago in the mouth of the Sagi.  A fire ran along Shefford’s veins and seemed to concentrate in his breast.  Shadd’s dark, piercing eyes alighted upon Shefford and rested there.  Then the half-breed spoke to one of his white outlaws and pointed at Shefford.  His action attracted the attention of others in the gang, and for a moment Shefford and Withers were treated to a keen-eyed stare.

The trader cursed low.  “Maybe I wouldn’t like to mix it with that damned breed,” he said.  “But what chance have we with that gang?  Besides, we’re here on other and more important business.  All the same, before I forget, let me remind you that Shadd has had you spotted ever since you came out here.  A friendly Piute told me only lately.  Shefford, did any Indian between here and Flagstaff ever see that bunch of money you persist in carrying?”

“Why, yes, I suppose so—­’way back in Tuba, when I first came out,” replied Shefford.

“Huh!  Well, Shadd’s after that. . . .  Come on now, let’s get inside the hall.”

The crowd opened for the trader, who appeared to be known to everybody.

A huge man with a bushy beard blocked the way to a shut door.

“Hello, Meade!” said Withers.  “Let us in.”

The man opened the door, permitted Withers and Shefford to enter, and then closed it.

Shefford, coming out of the bright glare of sun into the hall, could not see distinctly at first.  His eyes blurred.  He heard a subdued murmur of many voices.  Withers appeared to be affected with the same kind of blindness, for he stood bewildered a moment.  But he recovered sooner than Shefford.  Gradually the darkness shrouding many obscure forms lifted.  Withers drew him through a crowd of men and women to one side of the hall, and squeezed along a wall to a railing where progress was stopped.

Then Shefford raised his head to look with bated breath and strange curiosity.