Navajo girl. He was taking her to Blue Canyon, where he lives and
teaches the Indians. I've met him only a few times. You see, not
many white men ride in here. He's the first white man I've seen in
six months, and you're the second. Both the same day! . . . Red Lake's
getting popular! It's queer, though, his leaving. He expected to
stay all night. There's no other place to stay. Blue Canyon is fifty
miles away."

"I'm sorry to say--no, I'm not sorry, either--but I must tell you I
was the cause of Mr. Willetts leaving," replied Shefford.

"How so?" inquired the other.

Then Shefford related the incident following his arrival.

"Perhaps my action was hasty," he concluded, apologetically. "I didn't
think. Indeed, I'm surprised at myself."

Presbrey made no comment and his face was as hard to read as one of
the distant bluffs.

"But what did the man mean?" asked Shefford, conscious of a little
heat. "I'm a stranger out here. I'm ignorant of Indians--how they're
controlled. Still I'm no fool. . . . If Willetts didn't mean evil, at
least he was brutal."

"He was teaching her religion," replied Presbrey. His tone held faint
scorn and implied a joke, but his face did not change in the slightest.

Without understanding just why, Shefford felt his conviction justified