-chasing adventure. It's
a great story.... This Fay Larkin I've heard of MIGHT be your Fay
Larkin--I almost believe so. Shefford, I'll help you find out."

"Yes, yes--I must know," replied Shefford. "Oh, I hope, I pray we can
find her! But--I'd rather she was dead--if she's not still hidden in the
valley."

"Naturally. You've dreamed yourself into rescuing this lost Fay
Larkin.... But, Shefford, you're old enough to know life doesn't work
out as you want it to. One way or another I fear you're in for a bitter
disappointment."

"Withers, take me to the village."

"Shefford, you're liable to get in bad out here," said the trader,
gravely.

"I couldn't be any more ruined than I am now," replied Shefford,
passionately.

"But there's risk in this--risk such as you never had," persisted
Withers.

"I'll risk anything."

"Reckon this is a funny deal for a sheep-trader to have on his hands,"
continued Withers. "Shefford, I like you. I've a mind to see you through
this. It's a damn strange story.... I'll tell you what--I will help you.
I'll give you a job packing supplies in to the village. I meant to turn
that over to a Mormon cowboy--Joe Lake. The job shall be yours, and I'll
go with you first trip. Here's my hand on it.... Now, Shefford, I'm more
curious about you than I was before you told your story. What ruined
you? As we're to be partners, you can tell me now. I'll keep your
secret. Maybe I can do you good."

Shefford wanted to confess, yet it was hard. Perhaps, had he not been so
agitated, he would not have answered to impulse. But this trader was a
man--a man of the desert--he would understand.

"I told you I was a clergyman," said Shefford in low voice. "I didn't
want to be one, but they made me one. I did my best. I failed.... I had
doubts of religion--of the Bible--of God, as my Church believed in them.
As I grew older thought and study convinced me of the narrowness of
religion as my congregation lived it. I preached what I believed. I
alienated them. They put me out, took my calling from me, disgraced me,
ruined me."

"So that's all!" exclaimed Withers, slowly. "You didn't believe in the
God of the Bible.... Well, I've been in the desert long enough to know
there IS a God, but probably not the one your Church worships. ...
Shefford, go to the Navajo for a faith!"

Shefford had forgotten the presence of Nas Ta Bega, and perhaps Withers
had likewise. At this juncture the Indian rose to his full height