by more arrivals from Stonebridge. They avoided the
camp by the spring, and when Shefford and Lake attempted to go to them
they gave them a wide berth. This caused Joe to assert that they were
up to some dirty work. All morning they lounged around under the cedars,
keeping out of sight, and evidently the reinforcement from Stonebridge
had brought liquor. When they gathered together at their camp, half
drunk, all noisy, some wanting to swagger off into the village and
others trying to hold them back, Joe Lake said, grimly, that somebody
was going to get shot. Indeed, Shefford saw that there was every
likelihood of bloodshed.

"Reckon we'd better take to one of the cabins," said Joe.

Thereupon the three repaired to the nearest cabin, and, entering, kept
watch from the windows. During a couple of hours, however, they did not
see or hear anything of the ruffians. Then came a shot from over in
the village, a single yell, and, after that, a scattering volley. The
silence and suspense which followed were finally broken by hoof-beats.
Nas Ta Bega called Joe and Shefford to the window he had been stationed
at. From here they saw the unwelcome visitors ride down the trail, to
disappear in the cedars toward the outlet of the valley. Joe, who had
numbered them, said that all but one of them had gone.

"Reckon he got it," added Joe.

So indeed it turned out; one of the men, a well-known rustler named
Harker, had been killed, by whom no one seemed to know. He had brazenly
tried to force his way into one of the houses, and the act had cost him
his life. Naturally Shefford, never free from his civilized habit of
thought, remarked apprehensively that he hoped this affair would not
cause the poor women to be arrested again and haled before some rude
court.

"Law!" grunted Joe. "There ain't any. The nearest sheriff is in Durango.
That's Colorado. And he'd give us a medal for killing Harker. It was a
good job, for it'll teach these rowdies a lesson."

Next day the old order of life was resumed in the village. And the
arrival of a heavily laden pack-train, under the guidance of Withers,
attested to the fact that the Mormons meant not only to continue to live
in the valley, but also to build and plant and enlarge. This was good
news to Shefford. At least the village could be made less lonely.
And there was plenty of work to give him excuse for staying there.
Furthermore, Withers brought a message form Bishop Kane to the effect
that