, recoiling from that convulsed face.

"Brother! Oh! I feared this," groaned John Caldwell.

The rustlers broke out into curses and harsh laughter.

"--- --- you Mormons! See him! Paul Caldwell! Son of a Bishop! Thought
he was shepherdin' sheep?"

"D--n you, Hare!" shouted the guilty Mormon, in passionate fury and
shame. "Why didn't you hang me? Why didn't you bury me unknown?"

"Caldwell! I can't believe it," cried Hare, slowly coming to himself.
"But you don't hang. Here, come out of the crowd. Make way, men!"

The silent crowd of Mormons with lowered and averted eyes made passage
for Hare and Caldwell. Then cold, stern voices in sharp questions and
orders went on with the grim trial. Leading the bowed and stricken
Mormon, Hare drew off to the side of the town-hall and turned his back
upon the crowd. The constant trampling of many feet, the harsh medley of
many voices swelled into one dreadful sound. It passed away, and a long
hush followed. But this in turn was suddenly broken by an outcry:

"The Navajos! The Navajos!"

Hare thrilled at that cry and his glance turned to the eastern end of
the village road where a column of mounted Indians, four abreast, was
riding toward the square.

"Naab and his Indians," shouted Hare. "Naab and his Indians! No fear!"
His call was timely, for the aroused Mormons, ignorant of Naab's
pursuit, fearful of hostile Navajos, were handling their guns ominously.

But there came a cry of recognition--"August Naab!"

Onward came the band, Naab in the lead on his spotted roan. The mustangs
were spent and lashed with foam. Naab reined in his charger and the
keen-eyed Navajos closed in behind him. The old Mormon's eagle glance
passed over the dark forms dangling from the cottonwoods to the files of
waiting men.

"Where is he?"

"There!" answered John Caldwell, pointing to the body of Holderness.

"Who robbed me of my vengeance? Who killed the rustler?" Naab's
stentorian voice rolled over the listening multitude. In it was a hunger
of thwarted hate that held men mute. He bent a downward gaze at the dead
Holderness as if to make sure of the ghastly reality. Then he seemed
to rise in his saddle, and his broad chest to expand. "I know--I saw
it all--blind I was not to believe my own eyes! Where is he? Where is
Hare?"

Some one pointed Hare out. Naab swung from his saddle and scattered
the men before him as if they had been sheep. His shaggy gray head and
massive shoulders towered a