“Reckon something’s up,” whispered Joe, hoarsely.  “It’s been in the air all day.”

Withers must have been watching for Shefford.

“Here’s Shefford now,” he said to the trio of Mormons, as Joe and Shefford reached the group.  “I want you to hear him speak for himself.”

“What’s the matter?” asked Shefford.

“Give me a hunch and I’ll put in my say-so,” said Joe Lake.

“Shefford, it’s the matter of a good name more than a job,” replied the trader.  “A little while back I told the bishop I meant to put you on the pack job over to the valley—­same as when you first came to me.  Well, the bishop was pleased and said he might put something in your way.  Just now I ran in here to find you—­not wanted.  When I kicked I got the straight hunch.  Willetts has said things about you.  One of them—­the one that sticks in my craw—­was that you’d do anything, even pretend to be inclined toward Mormonism, just to be among those Mormon women over there.  Willetts is your enemy.  And he’s worse than I thought.  Now I want you to tell Bishop Kane why this missionary is bitter toward you.”

“Gentlemen, I knocked him down,” replied Shefford, simply.

“What for?” inquired the bishop, in surprise and curiosity.

Shefford related the incident which had occurred at Red Lake and that now seemed again to come forward fatefully.

“You insinuate he had evil intent toward the Indian girl?” queried Kane.

“I insinuate nothing.  I merely state what led to my acting as I did.”

“Principles of religion, sir?”

“No.  A man’s principles.”

Withers interposed in his blunt way, “Bishop, did you ever see Glen Naspa?”

“No.”

“She’s the prettiest Navajo in the country.  Willetts was after her, that’s all.”

“My dear man, I can’t believe that of a Christian missionary.  We’ve known Willetts for years.  He’s a man of influence.  He has money back of him.  He’s doing a good work.  You hint of a love relation.”

“No, I don’t hint,” replied Withers, impatiently.  “I know.  It’s not the first time I’ve known a missionary to do this sort of thing.  Nor is it the first time for Willetts.  Bishop Kane, I live among the Indians.  I see a lot I never speak of.  My work is to trade with the Indians, that’s all.  But I’ll not have Willetts or any other damned hypocrite run down my friend here.  John Shefford is the finest young man that ever came to me in the desert.  And he’s got to be put right before you all or I’ll not set foot in Stonebridge again. . . .  Willetts was after Glen Naspa.  Shefford punched him.  And later threw him out of the old Indian’s hogan up on the mountain.  That explains Willetts’s enmity.  He was after the girl.”

“What’s more, gentlemen, he got her,” added Shefford.  “Glen Naspa has not been home for six months.  I saw her at Blue Canyon. . . .  I would like to face this Willetts before you all.”