I was more than ever convinced of her wisdom in choice of garb when in early morning I glimpsed her with the two other women at the Adams fire; for, bright-haired and small, she had been sorrily dulled by the plain ill-fitting waist and long shapeless skirt in one garment, as adopted by the feminine contingent of the train. In her particular case these were worse fitting and longer than common—an artifice that certainly snuffed a portion of her charms for Gentile and Mormon eyes alike.

What further disposition of her was to be made we might not yet know. We all kept to our own tasks and our own fires, with the exception that Daniel gawked and strutted in the manner of a silly gander, and made frequent errands to his father’s household.

It was after the red sun-up and the initial signaling by dust cloud to dust cloud announcing the commencement of another day’s desert traffic, and in response to the orders “Ketch up!” we were putting animals to wagons (My Lady still in evidence forward), when a horseman bored in at a gallop, over the road from the east. 182

“Montoyo, by Gawd!” Jenks pronounced, in a grumble of disgust rather than with any note of alarm. “Look alive.” And—“He don’t hang up my pelt; no, nor yourn if I can help it.”

I saw him give a twitch to his holster and slightly loosen the Colt’s. But I was unburthened by guilt in past events, and I conceived no reason for fearing the future—other than that now I was likely to lose her. Heaven pity her! Probably she would have to go, even if she managed later to kill him. The delay in our start had been unfortunate.

It was dollars to doughnuts that every man in the company had had his eye out for Montoyo, since daylight; and the odds were that every man had sighted him as quickly as we. Notwithstanding, save by an occasional quick glance none appeared to pay attention to his rapid approach. We ourselves went right along hooking up, like the others.

As chanced, our outfit was the first upon his way in. I heard him rein sharply beside us and his horse fidget, panting. Not until he spoke did we lift eyes.

“Howdy, gentlemen?”

“Howdy yourself, sir,” answered Mr. Jenks, straightening up and meeting his gaze. I paused, to gaze also. Montoyo was pale as death, his lips hard set, his peculiar gray eyes and his black moustache the only vivifying features in his coldly menacing countenance. 183

He was in white linen shirt, his left arm slung; fine riding boots encasing his legs above the knees and Spanish spurs at their heels—his horse’s flanks reddened by their jabs. The pearl butt of a six-shooter jutted from his belt holster. He sat jaunty, excepting for his lips and eyes.

He looked upon me, with a trace of recognition less to be seen than felt. His glance leaped to the wagon—traveled swiftly and surely and returned to Mr. Jenks.

“You’re pulling out, I believe.”

“Yes, you bet yuh.”

“This is the Adams train?”

“It is.”

“I’m looking for my wife, gentlemen. May I ask whether you’ve seen her?”

“You can.”

“You have seen her?”

“Yes, sir. We’ll not beat around any bush over that.”

He meditated, frowning a bit, eying us narrowly.

“I had the notion,” he said. “If you have staked her to shelter I thank you; but now I aim to play the hand myself. This is a strictly private game. Where is she?”

“I call yuh, Pedro,” my friend answered. “We ain’t keepin’ cases on her, or on you. You don’t find her in my outfit, that’s flat. She spent the night with the Adams women. You’ll find her waitin’ for you, 184 on ahead.” He grinned. “She’ll be powerful glad to see you.” He sobered. “And I’ll say this: I’m kinder sorry I ain’t got her, for she’d be interestin’ company on the road.”

“The road to hell, yes,” Montoyo coolly remarked. “I’d guarantee you quick passage. Good-day.”

With sudden steely glare that embraced us both he jumped his mount into a gallop and tore past the team, for the front. He must have inquired, once or twice, as to the whereabouts of the Captain’s party; I saw fingers pointing.

“Here! You’ve swapped collars on your lead span, boy,” Mr. Jenks reproved—but he likewise fumbling while he gazed.

I could hold back no longer.

“Just a minute, if you please,” I pleaded; and hastened on up, half running in my anxiety to face the worst; to help, if I might, for the best.

A little knot of people had formed, constantly increasing by oncomers like myself and friend Jenks who had lumbered behind me. Montoyo’s horse stood heaving, on the outskirts; and ruthlessly pushing through I found him inside, with My Lady at bay before him—her eyes brilliant, her cheeks hot, her two hands clenched tightly, her slim figure dangerously tense within her absurd garment, and the arm of the brightly flushed but calm Rachael resting restraintfully around her. The circling faces peered. 185

Captain Adams, at one side apart, was replying to the gambler. His small china-blue eyes had begun to glint; otherwise he maintained an air of stolidity as if immune to the outcome.

“You see her,” he said. “She has had the care of my own household, for I turn nobody away. She came against my will, and she shall go of her will. I am not her keeper.”

“You Mormons have the advantage of us white men, sir,” Montoyo sneered. “No one of the sex seems to be denied bed and board in your establishments.”

“By the help of the Lord we of the elect can manage our establishments much better than you do yours,” big Hyrum responded; and his face sombered. “Who are you? A panderer to the devil, a thief with painted card-boards, a despoiler of the ignorant, and a feeder to hell—yea, a striker of women and a trafficker in flesh! Who are you, to think the name of the Lord’s anointed? There she is, your chattel. Take her, or leave her. This train starts on in ten minutes.”

“I’ll take her or kill her,” Montoyo snarled. “You call me a feeder, but she shall not be fed to your mill, Adams. You’ll get on that horse pronto, madam,” he added, stepping forward (no one could question his nerve), “and we’ll discuss our affairs in private.”

She cast about with swift beseeching look, as if for 186 a friendly face or sign of rescue. And that agonized quest was enough. Whether she saw me or not, here I was. With a spring I had burst in.

But somebody already had drawn fresh attention. Daniel Adams was standing between her and her husband.

“Say, Mister, will yu fight?” he drawled, breathing hard, his broad nostrils quivering.

A silence fell. Singularly, the circle parted right and left in a jostle and a scramble.

Montoyo surveyed him.

“Why?”

“For her, o’ course.”

The gambler smiled—a slow, contemptuous smile while his gray eyes focused watchfully.

“It’s a case where I have nothing to gain,” said he. “And you’ve nothing to lose. I never bet in the teeth of a pat hand. Sabe? Besides, my young Mormon cub, when did you enter this game? Where’s your ante? For the sport of it, now, what do you think of putting up, to make it interesting? One of your mammies? Tut, tut!”

Daniel’s freckled bovine face flushed muddy red; in the midst of it his faulty eyes were more pronounced than ever—beady, twinkling, and so at cross purposes that they apparently did not center upon the gambler at all. But his right hand had stiffened at his side—extended there flat and tremulous like the vibrant tail of a rattlesnake. He blurted harshly: 187

“I ’laow to kill yu for that. Draw, yu——!”

We caught breath. Montoyo’s hand had darted down, and up, with motion too smooth and elusive for the eye, particularly when our eyes had to be upon both. His revolver poised half-way out of the scabbard, held there rigidly, frozen in mid course; for Daniel had laughed loudly over leveled barrel.

How he had achieved so quickly no man of us knew. Yet there it was—his Colt’s, out, cocked, wicked and yearning and ready.

He whirled it with tempting carelessness, butt first, muzzle first, his discolored teeth set in a yellow grin. The breath of the spectators vented in a sigh.

“Haow’ll yu take it, Mister?” he gibed. “I could l’arn an old caow to beat yu on the draw. Aw, shucks! I ’laow yu’d better go back to yore pasteboards. Naow git!”

Montoyo, his eyes steady, scarcely changed expression. He let his revolver slip down into its scabbard. Then he smiled.

“You have a pretty trick,” he commented, relaxing. “Some day I’d like to test it out again. Just now I pass. Madam, are you coming?”

“You know I’m not,” she uttered clearly.

“Your choice of company is hardly to your credit,” he sneered. “Or, I should say, to your education. Saintliness does not set well upon you, madam. Your clothes are ill-fitting already. Of your two champions——” 188

And here I realized that I was standing out, one foot advanced, my fists foolishly doubled, my presence a useless factor.

“—I recommend the gentleman from New York as more to your tastes. But you are going of your own free will. You will always be my wife. You can’t get away from that, you devil. I shall expect you in Benton, for I have the hunch that your little flight will fetch you back pretty well tamed, to the place where damaged goods are not so heavily discounted.” He ignored Daniel and turned upon me. “As for you,” he said, “I warn you you are playing against a marked deck. You will find fists a poor hand. Ladies and gentlemen, good-morning.” With that he strode straight for his horse, climbed aboard (a trifle awkwardly by reason of his one arm disabled) and galloped, granting us not another glance.

Card shark and desperado that he was, his consummate aplomb nobody could deny, except Daniel, now capering and swaggering and twirling his revolver.

“I showed him. I made him take water. I ’laow I’m ’bout the best man with a six-shooter in these hyar parts.”

“Ketch up and stretch out,” Captain Adams ordered, disregarding. “We’ve no more time for foolery.”

My eyes met My Lady’s. She smiled a little ruefully, and I responded, shamed by the poor rÔle I had 189 borne. With that still jubilating lout to the fore, certainly I cut small figure.

This night we made camp at Rawlins’ Springs, some twelve miles on. The day’s march had been, so to speak, rather pensive; for while there were the rough jokes and the talking back and forth, it seemed as though the scene of early morning lingered in our vista. The words of Montoyo had scored deeply, and the presence of our supernumerary laid a kind of incubus, like an omen of ill luck, upon us. Indeed the prophecies darkly uttered showed the current of thought.

“It’s a she Jonah we got. Sure a woman the likes o’ her hain’t no place in a freightin’ outfit. We’re off on the wrong fut,” an Irishman declared to wagging of heads. “Faith, she’s enough to set the saints above an’ the saints below both by the ears.” He paused to light his dudeen. “There’ll be a Donnybrook Fair in Utah, if belike we don’t have it along the way.”

“No Mormon’ll need another wife if he takes her,” laughed somebody else.

“She’ll be promised to Dan’l ’fore ever we cross the Wasatch.” And they all in the group looked slyly at me. “Acts as if she’d been sealed to him already, he does.”

This had occurred at our nooning hour, amidst the dust and the heat, while the animals drooped and dozed and panted and in the scant shade of the hooded 190 wagons we drank our coffee and crunched our hardtack. Throughout the morning My Lady had ridden upon the seat of Daniel’s wagon, with him sometimes trudging beside, in pride of new ownership, cracking his whip, and again planted sidewise upon one of the wheel animals, facing backward to leer at her.

Why I should now have especially detested him I would not admit to myself. At any rate the dislike dated before her arrival. That was one sop to conscience when I remembered that she was a wife.

Friend Jenks must have read my thoughts, inasmuch as during the course of the afternoon he had uttered abruptly:

“These Mormons don’t exactly recognize Gentile marriages. Did you know that?” He flung me a look from beneath shaggy brows.

“What?” I exclaimed. “How so?”

“Meanin’ to say that layin’ on of hands by the Lord’s an’inted is necessary to reel j’inin’ in marriage.”

“But that’s monstrous!” I stammered.

“Dare say,” said he. “It’s the way white gospelers look at Injuns, ain’t it? Anyhow, to convert her out of sin, as they’d call it, and put her over into the company of the saints wouldn’t be no bad deal, by their kind o’ thinkin’. It’s been done before, I reckon. Jest thought I’d warn you. She’s made her own bed 191 and if it’s a Mormon bed she’s well quit of Montoyo, that’s sartin. Did you ever see the beat of that young feller on the draw?”

“No,” I admitted. “I never did.”

“And you never will.”

“He says his name’s Bonnie Bravo. Where did he find that?”

“Haw haw.” Friend Jenks spat. “Must ha’ heard it in a play-house or got it read to him out a book. Sounds to him like he was some punkins. Anyhow, if you’ve any feelin’s in the matter keep ’em under your hat. I don’t know what there’s been between you and her, but the Mormon church is between you now and it’s got the dead-wood on you. It’s either that for her, or Montoyo. He knows; he’s no fool and he’ll take his time. So you’d better stick to mule-whacking and sowbelly.”

Still it was only decent that I should inquire after her. No Daniel and no “Bonnie Bravo” was going to shut me from my duty. Therefore this evening after we had formed corral, watered our animals at the one good-water spring, staked them out in the bottoms of the ravine here, and eaten our supper, I went with clean hands and face and, I resolved, a clean heart, to pay my respects at the Hyrum Adams fire.

A cheery sight it was, too, for one bred as I had been to the company of women. Whereas during the day and somewhat in the evenings we Gentiles and 192 the Mormon men fraternized without conflict of sect save by long-winded arguments, at nightfall the main Mormon gathering centered about the Adams quarters, where the men and women sang hymns in praise of their pretensions, and listened to homilies by Hyrum himself.

They were singing now, as I approached—every woman busy also with her hands. The words were destined to be familiar to me, being from their favorite lines:

Into this domestic circle I civilly entered just as they had finished their hymn. She was seated beside the sleek-haired Rachael, with Daniel upon her other hand. I sensed her quickly ready smile; and with the same a surly stare from him, disclosing that by one person at least I was not welcomed.

“Anything special wanted, stranger?” Hyrum demanded. 193

“No, sir. I was attracted by your singing,” I replied. “Do I intrude?”

“Not at all, not at all.” He was more hospitable. “Set if you like, in the circle of the Saints. You’ll get no harm by it, that’s certain.”

So I seated myself just behind Rachael. A moment of constraint seemed to fall upon the group. I broke it by my inquiry, addressed to a clean profile.

“I came also to inquire after Mrs. Montoyo,” I carefully said. “You have stood the journey well, this far, madam?”

Daniel turned instantly.

“Thar’s no ’Mrs. Montoyo’ in this camp, Mister. And I’ll thank yu it’s a name yu’d best leave alone.”

“How so, sir?”

“Cause that’s the right of it. I ’laow I’ve told yu.”

“I’m called Edna now, by my friends,” she vouchsafed, coloring. “Yes, thank you, I’ve enjoyed the day.”

Rachael spoke softly, in her gentle English accents. I learned later that she was an English girl, convert to Mormonism.

“We Latter Day Saints know that the marriage rites of Gentiles are not countenanced by the Lord. If you would see the light you would understand. Sister Edna is being well cared for. Whatever we have is hers.”

“You will take her on with you to Salt Lake?” 194

“That is as Hyrum says. He has spoken of putting her on the stage at the next crossing. He will decide.”

“I think I’d rather stay with the train,” My Lady murmured.

“Yu will, too, by gum,” Daniel pronounced. “I’ll talk with paw. Yu’re goin’ to travel on to Zion ’long with me. I ’laow I’m man enough to look out for ye an’ I got plenty room. The hull wagon’s yourn. Guess thar won’t nobody have anything to say ag’in that.” His tone was pointed, unmistakable, and I sat fuming with it.

My Lady drily acknowledged.

“You are very kind, Daniel.”

“Wall, yu see I’m the best man on the draw in this hyar train. I’m a bad one, I am. My name’s Bonnie Bravo. That gambler—he ’laowed to pop me but I could ha’ killed him ’fore his gun was loose. I kin ride, wrastle, drive a bull team ag’in ary man from the States, an’ I got the gift o’ tongues. Ain’t afeared o’ Injuns, neither. I’m elected. I foller the Lord an’ some day I’ll be a bishop. I hain’t been more’n middlin’ interested in wimmen, but I’m gittin’ old enough, an’ yu an’ me’ll be purty well acquainted by the time we reach Zion. Thar’s a long spell ahead of us, but I aim to look out for yu, yu bet.”

His blatancy was arrested by the intonation of another hymn. They all chimed in, except My Lady and me. 195

They concluded; sat with heads bowed while Hyrum, standing, delivered himself of a long-winded blessing, through his nose. It was the signal for breaking up. They stood. My Lady arose lithely; encumbered by her trailing skirt she pitched forward and I caught her. Daniel sprang in a moment, with a growl.

“None o’ that, Mister. I’m takin’ keer of her. Hands off.”

“Don’t bully me, sir,” I retorted, furious. “I’m only acting the gentleman, and you’re acting the boor.”

I would willingly have fought him then and there, probably to my disaster, but Hyrum’s heavy voice cut in.

“Who quarrels at my fire? Mark you, I’ll have no more of it. Stranger, get you where you belong. Daniel, get you to bed. And you, woman, take yourself 196 off properly and thank God that you are among his chosen and not adrift in sin.”

“Good-night, sir,” I answered. And I walked easily away, a triumphant warmth buoying me, for ere releasing her strong young body I had felt a note tucked into my hand.