en, earnest, dark eyes. She seemed to be
serious and quiet, but she made Shefford feel at home immediately. He
refused, however, to accept the room offered him, saying that he me
meant to sleep out under the open sky. Withers laughed at this and said
he understood. Shefford, remembering Presbrey's hunger for news of the
outside world, told this trader and his wife all he could think of; and
he was listened to with that close attention a traveler always gained in
the remote places.

"Sure am glad you rode in," said Withers, for the fourth time. "Now you
make yourself at home. Stay here--come over to the store--do what you
like. I've got to work. To-night we'll talk."

Shefford went out with his host. The store was as interesting as
Presbrey's, though much smaller and more primitive. It was full of
everything, and smelled strongly of sheep and goats. There was a narrow
aisle between sacks of flour and blankets on one side and a high counter
on the other. Behind this counter Withers stood to wait upon the buying
Indians. They sold blankets and skins and bags of wool, and in exchange
took silver money. Then they lingered and with slow, staid reluctance
bought one thing and then another--flour, sugar, canned goods, coffee,
tobacco, ammunition. The counter was never without two or three Indians
leaning on their dark, silver-braceleted arms. But as they were slow to
sell and buy and go, so were others slow to come in. Their voices were
soft and low and it seemed to Shefford they were whispering. He liked
to hear them and to look at the banded heads, the long, twisted rolls
of black hair tied with white cords, the still dark faces and watchful
eyes, the silver ear-rings, the slender, shapely brown hands, the lean
and sinewy shapes, the corduroys with a belt and gun, and the small,
close-fitting buckskin moccasins buttoned with coins. These Indians
all appeared young, and under the quiet, slow demeanor there was fierce
blood and fire.

By and by two women came in, evidently squaw and daughter. The former
was a huge, stout Indian with a face that was certainly pleasant if not
jolly.

She had the corners of a blanket tied under her chin, and in the folds
behind on her broad back was a naked Indian baby, round and black of
head, brown-skinned, with eyes as bright as beads. When the youngster
caught sight of Shefford he made a startled dive into the sack of the
blanket. Manifestly, however, curiosity got the better of fear, for