ened his lips. Why did she seem so strange, so far away? The
hovering shadows made him nervous. Always he had been afraid of the
dark. His mood now admitted of unreal fancies.

"Have you ever heard of Fay Larkin?" he asked, very low.

"Yes."

"Was there only one Fay Larkin?"

"Only one."

"Did you--ever see her?"

"Yes," came the faint reply.

He was grateful. How she might be breaking faith with creed or duty!
He had not dared to hope so much. All his inner being trembled at the
portent of his next query. He had not dreamed it would be so hard to
put, or would affect him so powerfully. A warmth, a glow, a happiness
pervaded his spirit; and the chill, the gloom were as if they had never
been.

"Where is Fay Larkin now?" he asked, huskily.

He bent over her, touched her, leaned close to catch her whisper.

"She is--dead!"

Slowly Shefford rose, with a sickening shock, and then in bitter pain he
strode away into the starlight.

VII. SAGO-LILIES

The Indian returned to camp that night, and early the next day, which
was Sunday, Withers rode in, accompanied by a stout, gray-bearded
personage wearing a long black coat.

"Bishop Kane, this is my new man, John Shefford," said the trader.

Shefford acknowledged the introduction with the respectful courtesy
evidently in order, and found himself being studied intently by clear
blue eyes. The bishop appeared old, dry, and absorbed in thought; he
spoke quaintly, using in every speech some Biblical word or phrase; and
he had an air of authority. He asked Shefford to hear him preach at the
morning service, and then he went off into the village.

"Guess he liked your looks," remarked Withers.

"He certainly sized me up," replied Shefford.

"Well, what could you expect? Sure I never heard of a deal like this--a
handsome young fellow left alone with a lot of pretty Mormon women!
You'll understand when you learn to know Mormons. Bishop Kane's a square
old chap. Crazy on religion, maybe, but otherwise he's a good fellow.
I made the best stand I could for you. The Mormons over at Stonebridge
were huffy because I hadn't consulted them before fetching you over
here. If I had, of course you'd never have gotten here. It was Joe Lake
who made it all right with them. Joe's well thought of, and he certainly
stood up for you."

"I owe him something, then," replied Shefford. "Hope my obligations
don't grow beyond me. Did you leave Joe at Stonebridge?"

"Yes. He wan