“Judge Stone knew that as well as I knew,” went on Shefford.  “Any man of penetration could have seen it.  What an ordeal that was for good women to go through!  I know they’re good.  And there they were swearing to—­”

“Didn’t it make me sick?” interrupted Joe in a kind of growl.  “Reckon it made Judge Stone sick, too.  After Mary went under he conducted that trial like a man cuttin’ out steers at a round-up.  He wanted to get it over.  He never forced any question. . . .  Bad job to ride down Stonebridge way!  It’s out of creation.  There’s only six men in the party, with a poor lot of horses.  Really, government officers or not, they’re not safe.  And they’ve taken a hunch.”

“Have they left already?” inquired Shefford.

“Were packed an hour ago.  I didn’t see them go, but somebody said they went.  Took the trail for Bluff, which sure is the only trail they could take, unless they wanted to go to Colorado by way of Kayenta.  That might have been the safest trail.”

“Joe, what might happen to them?” asked Shefford, quietly, with eyes on the Mormon.

“Aw, you know that rough trail.  Bad on horses.  Weathered slopes—­ slipping ledges—­a rock might fall on you any time.  Then Shadd’s here with his gang.  And bad Piutes.”

“What became of the women?” Shefford asked, ’presently.

“They’re around among friends.”

“Where are their children?”

“Left over there with the old women.  Couldn’t be fetched over.  But there are some pretty young babies in that bunch—­need their mothers.”

“I should—­think so,” replied Shefford, constrainedly.  “When will their mothers get back to them?”

“To-night, maybe, if this mob of cow-punchers and wranglers get out of town. . . .  It’s a bad mix, Shefford, here’s a hunch on that.  These fellows will get full of whisky.  And trouble might come if they—­ approach the women.”

“You mean they might get drunk enough to take the oaths of those poor women—­take the meaning literally—­pretend to believe the women what they swore they were?”

“Reckon you’ve got the hunch,” replied Joe, gloomily.

“My God! man, that would be horrible!” exclaimed Shefford.

“Horrible or not, it’s liable to happen.  The women can be kept here yet awhile.  Reckon there won’t be any trouble here.  It’ll be over there in the valley.  Shefford, getting the women over there safe is a job that’s been put to me.  I’ve got a bunch of fellows already.  Can I count on you?  I’m glad to say you’re well thought of.  Bishop Kane liked you, and what he says goes.”

“Yes, Joe, you can count on me,” replied Shefford.

They finished their meal then and repaired to the big office-room of the house.  Several groups of men were there and loud talk was going on outside.  Shefford saw Withers talking to Bishop Kane and two other Mormons, both strangers to Shefford.  The trader appeared to be speaking with unwonted force, emphasizing his words with energetic movements of his hands.