River. He's liable to go to
Mexico or Africa next."

"If you need him," said the post-trader, closing his ledger, "you can
offer him five more a month."

"That'll not hold him."

"Well, let him go. Have a cigar. The bishop is expected for Sunday, and
I've got to see his room is fixed up for him."

"The bishop!" said the foreman. "I've heard him highly spoken of."

"You can hear him preach to-morrow. The bishop is a good man."

"He's better than that; he's a man," stated the foreman--"at least so
they tell me."

Now, saving an Indian dance, scarce any possible event at the Shoshone
agency could assemble in one spot so many sorts of inhabitants as a
visit from this bishop. Inhabitants of four colors gathered to view the
wolf-dance this afternoon--red men, white men, black men, yellow men.
Next day, three sorts came to church at the agency. The Chinese laundry
was absent. But because, indeed (as the foreman said), the bishop was
not only a good man but a man, Wyoming held him in respect and went
to look at him. He stood in the agency church and held the Episcopal
service this Sunday morning for some brightly glittering army officers
and their families, some white cavalry, and some black infantry; the
agency doctor, the post-trader, his foreman, the government scout, three
gamblers, the waiter-girl from the hotel, the stage-driver, who was
there because she was; old Chief Washakie, white-haired and royal in
blankets, with two royal Utes splendid beside him; one benchful of
squatting Indian children, silent and marvelling; and, on the back
bench, the commanding officer's new hired-girl, and, beside her, Lin
McLean.

Mr. McLean's hours were already various and successful. Even at the
wolf-dance, before he had wearied of its monotonous drumming and
pageant, his roving eye had rested upon a girl whose eyes he caught
resting upon him. A look, an approach, a word, and each was soon content
with the other. Then, when her duties called her to the post from him
and the stream's border, with a promise for next day he sought the hotel
and found the three gamblers anxious to make his acquaintance; for when
a cow-puncher has his pay many people will take an interest in him. The
three gamblers did not know that Mr. McLean could play cards. He left
them late in the evening fat with their money, and sought the tepees of
the Arapahoes. They lived across the road from the Shoshones, and among
their tents the boy remained until morn