Who's Waggoner?" asked Shefford, as he looked.

"He owns more than any Mormon in southern Utah," replied the trader.
"He's the biggest man in Stonebridge, that's sure. But I don't know his
relation to the Church. They don't call him elder or bishop. But I'll
bet he's some pumpkins. He never had any use for me or any Gentile. A
close-fisted, tight-lipped Mormon--a skinflint if I ever saw one! Just
look him over."

Shefford had been looking, and considered it unlikely that he would ever
forget this individual called Waggoner. He seemed old, sixty at least,
yet at that only in the prime of a wonderful physical life. Unlike most
of the others, he wore his grizzled beard close-cropped, so close that
it showed the lean, wolfish line of his jaw. All his features were of
striking sharpness. His eyes, of a singularly brilliant blue, were yet
cold and pale. The brow had a serious, thoughtful cast; long furrows
sloped down the cheeks. It was a strange, secretive face, full of a
power that Shefford had not seen in another man's, full of intelligence
and thought that had not been used as Shefford had known them used
among men. The face mystified him. It had so much more than the strange
aloofness so characteristic of his fellows.

"Waggoner had five wives and fifty-five children before the law went
into effect," whispered Withers. "Nobody knows and nobody will ever know
how many he's got now. That's my private opinion."

Somehow, after Withers told that, Shefford seemed to understand the
strange power in Waggoner's face. Absolutely it was not the force, the
strength given to a man from his years of control of men. Shefford, long
schooled now in his fair-mindedness, fought down the feelings of other
years, and waited with patience. Who was he to judge Waggoner or any
other Mormon? But whenever his glance strayed back to the quiet, slender
form in white, when he realized again and again the appalling nature of
this court, his heart beat heavy and labored within his breast.

Then a bustle among the men upon the platform appeared to indicate that
proceedings were about to begin. Some men left the platform; several sat
down at a table upon which were books and papers, and others remained
standing. These last were all roughly garbed, in riding-boots and spurs,
and Shefford's keen eye detected the bulge of hidden weapons. They
looked like deputy-marshals upon duty.

Somebody whispered that the judge's name was Stone. The name fitted h