way?"

"It's a damned outrage!" burst out Venters. "I've done no wrong.
I've offended this Mormon Elder by being a friend to that woman."

"Ma'am, is it true--what he says?" asked the rider of Jane, but
his quiveringly alert eyes never left the little knot of quiet
men.

"True? Yes, perfectly true," she answered.

"Well, young man, it seems to me that bein' a friend to such a
woman would be what you wouldn't want to help an' couldn't
help....What's to be done to you for it?"

"They intend to whip me. You know what that means--in Utah!"

"I reckon," replied the rider, slowly.

With his gray glance cold on the Mormons, with the restive
bit-champing of the horses, with Jane failing to repress her
mounting agitations, with Venters standing pale and still, the
tension of the moment tightened. Tull broke the spell with a
laugh, a laugh without mirth, a laugh that was only a sound
betraying fear.

"Come on, men!" he called.

Jane Withersteen turned again to the rider.