"So far as I went," replied Shefford.

"You're no spy on the lookout for sealed wives?"

"Absolutely not. I don't even know what you mean by sealed wives."

"Well, it's damn strange that you'd know the name Cottonwoods. . . .
Yes, that's the name of the village I meant--the one that used to be.
It's gone now, all except a few stone walls."

"What became of it?"

"Torn down by Mormons years ago. They destroyed it and moved away.
I've heard Indians talk about a grand spring that was there once.
It's gone, too. Its name was--let me see--"

"Amber Spring," interrupted Shefford.

"By George, you're right!" rejoined the trader, again amazed.
"Shefford, this beats me. I haven't heard that name for ten years.
I can't help seeing what a tenderfoot--stranger--you are to the
desert. Yet, here you are--speaking of what you should know nothing
of. . . . And there's more behind this."

Shefford rose, unable to conceal his agitation.

"Did you ever hear of a rider named Venters?"

"Rider? You mean a cowboy? Venters. No, I never heard that name."