CHAPTER I.
LASSITER

A sharp clip-crop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage.
Jane Withersteen gazed down the wide purple slope with dreamy and troubled eyes. A rider had just left her and it was his message that held her thoughtful and almost sad, awaiting the churchmen who were coming to resent and attack her right to befriend a Gentile.
She wondered if the unrest and strife that had lately come to the little village of Cottonwoods was to involve her. And then she sighed, remembering that her father had founded this remotest border settlement of southern Utah and that he had left it to her. She owned all the ground and many of the cottages. Withersteen House was hers, and the great ranch, with its thousands of cattle, and the swiftest horses of the sage. To her belonged Amber Spring, the water which gave verdure and beauty to the village and made living possible on that wild purple upland waste. She could not escape being involved by whatever befell Cottonwoods.
That year, 1871, had marked a change which had been gradually coming in the lives of the peace-loving Mormons of the border. Glaze--Stone Bridge--Sterling, villages to the north, had risen against the invasion of Gentile settlers and the forays of rustlers. There had been opposition to the one and fighting with the other. And now Cottonwoods had begun to wake and bestir itself and grown hard.
Jane prayed that the tranquillity and sweetness of her life would not be permanently disrupted. She meant to do so much more for her people than she had done. She wanted the sleepy quiet pastoral days to last always. Trouble between the Mormons and the Gentiles of the community would make her unhappy. She was Mormon-born, and she was a friend to poor and unfortunate Gentiles. She wished only to go on doing good and being happy. And she thought of what that great ranch meant to her. She loved it all--the grove of cottonwoods, the old stone house, the amber-tinted water, and the droves of shaggy, dusty horses and mustangs, the sleek, clean-limbed, blooded racers, and the browsing herds of cattle and the lean, sun-browned riders of the sage.
While she waited there she forgot the prospect of untoward change. The bray of a lazy burro broke the afternoon quiet, and it was comfortingly suggestive of the drowsy farmyard, and the open corrals, and the green alfalfa fields. Her clear sight intensified the purple sage-slope as it rolled before her. Low swells of prairie-like ground sloped up to the west. Dark, lonely cedar-trees, few and far between, stood out strikingly, and at long distances ruins of red rocks. Farther on, up the gradual slope, rose a broken wall, a huge monument, looming dark purple and stretching its solitary, mystic way, a wavering line that faded in the north. Here to the westward was the light and color and beauty. Northward the slope descended to a dim line of canyons from which rose an up-Hinging of the earth, not mountainous, but a vast heave of purple uplands, with ribbed and fan-shaped walls, castle-crowned cliffs, and gray escarpments. Over it all crept the lengthening, waning afternoon shadows. The rapid beat of hoofs recalled Jane Withersteen to the question at hand.

GLAVA PRVA
LASSITER

Postepeno se gubio topot kopita, a onda sasvim nestade, dok su se oblaci guste prašine dizali ispod topola, rasplinjavajući se, malo-pomalo, iznad kadulje.
Jane Withersteen je zamišljjenim i uznemirenim očima gledala dolje, niz prostrani crvenkasti obronak. Prije nekoliko trenutaka joj je konjanik, koji se sada udaljavao, donio poruku koja ju je zabrinula i gotovo ražalostila. Sad je mogla oeekivati dolazak pripadnika mormonske crkve i njihove prijekore što prijateljuje s nevjernikom — gentilom. Stavit oe joj do znanja da taj njen odnos neće trpjeti.
I pitala se, Jane, neće li prilike i nju natjerati da se umiješa u nemire i borbe, što su u posljednje vrijeme potresali malo naselje Cottonwoods. Pomislivši na to, uzdahnu prisjećajući se da je vlasnica prostranih poljskih dobara i pašnjaka što ih je u neku ruku njezin otac stvorio tamo dolje, u onoj usamljenosti krajnjeg južnog dijela Utaha, velikog ranča Withersteenovih. Njoj su, stvarno, pripadali tereni i najveći dio građevina. Withersteen House bio je njen, njene su bile tisude glava stoke, njeni najbrži konji u pokrajini. Njen je, najzad, Amber Spring, bogati izvor koji je oplođivao tlo oko naselja i omogućavao život u širokom prostranstvu što se pružalo svuda naokolo po purpurnim brežuljcima. Ne, nije se mogla nadati da će ostati po strani od svega onoga što se događalo i događa u Cottonwoodsu.
Te, 1871. godine, desile su se promjene koje su utjecale na život miroljubivih mormona nastanjenih na torn dijelu granice. Glaze, Stone Bridge, Sterling, mjesta vise na sjeveru, bila su se podigla protiv najezde gentila, i protiv lopovskih družina što su im krale stoku. Sad se i Cottonwoods poieo uznemiravati zbog istih razloga.
Jane je molila nebo da njen mir i vedru ljupkost njena života poštedi potresa i nevolja, željna da sve do kraja živi u toj idiličnoj mirnoći koja joj je bila toliko draga. Međutim, premda je već mnogo učinila za svoje ljude i imala namjeru još vise učiniti, plašila se da će neprijateljstvo između mormona i gentila stvoriti od nje nesretno i jadno biće. I ona je bila rodena mormonka ali je to nije priječilo da se iskaže milostivom i prijateljski raspoloženom prema onim gentilima za koje je znala da su nesretni i siromašni. Željela je da živi u miru i da čini dobročinstva. Zato je čekala zbunjena i zabrinuta, gledajući kao kroz maglu prostrani obronak, koji se prema sjeveru gubio sve do nejasne tamne linije kanjona nad kojima se uzdizala gomila stjenovitih brežuljaka, crvenkastih pod zrakama zalazećeg sunca i tu i tamo ispresijecanih snaž-nim sivim crtama, koje su obilježavale urvine. Onda je trže topot kopita.

A group of riders cantered up the lane, dismounted, and threw their bridles. They were seven in number, and Tull, the leader, a tall, dark man, was an elder of Jane's church.
—Did you get my message?— he asked, curtly.
—Yes,— replied Jane.
—I sent word I'd give that rider Venters half an hour to come down to the village. He didn't come.—
—He knows nothing of it;— said Jane. —I didn't tell him. I've been waiting here for you.—
—Where is Venters?—
—I left him in the courtyard.—
—Here, Jerry,— called Tull, turning to his men, —take the gang and fetch Venters out here if you have to rope him.—
The dusty-booted and long-spurred riders clanked noisily into the grove of cottonwoods and disappeared in the shade.
—Elder Tull, what do you mean by this?— demanded Jane. —If you must arrest Venters you might have the courtesy to wait till he leaves my home. And if you do arrest him it will be adding insult to injury. It's absurd to accuse Venters of being mixed up in that shooting fray in the village last night. He was with me at the time. Besides, he let me take charge of his guns. You're only using this as a pretext. What do you mean to do to Venters?—
—I'll tell you presently,— replied Tull. —But first tell me why you defend this worthless rider?—
—Worthless!— exclaimed Jane, indignantly. —He's nothing of the kind. He was the best rider I ever had. There's not a reason why I shouldn't champion him and every reason why I should. It's no little shame to me, Elder Tull, that through my friendship he has roused the enmity of my people and become an outcast. Besides I owe him eternal gratitude for saving the life of little Fay.—
—I've heard of your love for Fay Larkin and that you intend to adopt her. But--Jane Withersteen, the child is a Gentile!—
—Yes. But, Elder, I don't love the Mormon children any less because I love a Gentile child. I shall adopt Fay if her mother will give her to me.—
—I'm not so much against that. You can give the child Mormon teaching,— said Tull. —But I'm sick of seeing this fellow Venters hang around you. I'm going to put a stop to it. You've so much love to throw away on these beggars of Gentiles that I've an idea you might love Venters.—
Tull spoke with the arrogance of a Mormon whose power could not be brooked and with the passion of a man in whom jealousy had kindled a consuming fire.
—Maybe I do love him,— said Jane. She felt both fear and anger stir her heart. —I'd never thought of that. Poor fellow! he certainly needs some one to love him.—
—This'll be a bad day for Venters unless you deny that,— returned Tull, grimly.

Pojavila se grupa jahača, koji se približiše kasom i sjahaše. Bilo ih je sedam. Njihov vođa, Tull, visok i tamno-put čovjek, bio je jedan od starješina bratovštine kojoj je Jane pripadala.
— Da li ste primili moju poruku? — kratko je upita.
— Jesam — odgovori djevojka.
— Dao sam do znanja onom Ventersu da u roku od pola sata dođe dolje u mjesto, ali on nije došao.
— On ništa ne zna o tome — odgovori Jane. — Ja mu nisam saopćila vaš nalog. Ostala sam ovdje da vas dočekam.
— Gdje je Venters?
— Kad sam ga ostavila, nalazio se u dvorištu.
— Ti, Jerry — zovnu Tull obraćajući se jednom od svojih ljudi — pođi s ostalima potražiti Ventersa, pa ako bude potrebno i vezana ga dovući ovamo.
Šest ljudi se udalji zveckajući dugim mamuzama, i uskoro nestadoše u šumarku topola.
— Što namjeravate takvim načinom postići, starješino Tull? — upita Jane. — Ako hoćete uhapsiti Ventersa, budite barem ljubazni i pričekajte da napusti moju kuću, jer ćete, postupajući drugačije, počiniti ne samo ne pravdu prema njemu već će to predstavljati i napad na moj dom. Naime, nepravedno je op tužiti Ventersa da je sudjelovao u onoj gunguli što se noćas dogodila u naselju u kojoj je, rekli su mi, ispaljeno nekoliko hitaca. Nepravedno, kažem vam, jer se on u to vrijeme nalazio ovdje, sa mnom, a da i ne spominjem kako se njegovo oružje nalazilo u pohrani kod mene. Vi se samo izgovarate. Dakle, što namjeravate učiniti s Ven-tersom?
— Odmah ću vam kazati; ali mi najprije recite zašto branite tog nedostojnog jahača?
— Nedostojnog! — uzviknu Jane srdito. — To se, zaista, ne može za njega reći. On je naj- bolji jahač kojeg sam dosada imala i ne znam zašto ga ne bi trebalo braniti. Dapače, svi me razlozd navode da se stavim u njegovu obranu. Stid me, starješino Tull, da moja zaštita i moje prijateljstvo navlače na njega neprijateljstvo moga naroda. S druge strane, dugujem mu vje čnu zahvalnost, što je spasio život mojoj Fay.
—Da, poznato mi je da volite Fay Larkins i da je namjeravate pokćeriti. Ali, imajte na umu, Jane Withersteen, da je ta djevojčica gentil!
— Točno je; ali ni mormonska djeca nisu manje draga zato što volim jednu djevojčicu gentila. Da, pokćerit ću Fay Larkins ako njena majka htjede da mi je dade.
— Tome se mnogo ne protivim, tim vise što će djevojčica tako dobiti mormonski odgoj; ali mi se ne sviđa što oko vas stalno vidim onog Ventersa. To treba da prestane. Toliku brigu pokazujete prema tim bijednim gentilima da sam počeo vjerovati da je to zato što volite Ventersa.
Tull to reče surovo kao mormon koji po-znaje svoju moć i zavidno kao oovjek obuzet ljubomorom. Jane istodobno osjeti i strah i ljutnju. Ipak odgovori:
— Možda je tako kako kažete. U svakom slu čaju, nikad još nisam mislila na to. Siroti Ven ters! Zaista rnu je potrebno da netko suosjeća s njim.

Tull's men appeared under the cottonwoods and led a young man out into the lane. His ragged clothes were those of an outcast. But he stood tall and straight, his wide shoulders flung back, with the muscles of his bound arms rippling and a blue flame of defiance in the gaze he bent on Tull.
For the first time Jane Withersteen felt Venters's real spirit. She wondered if she would love this splendid youth. Then her emotion cooled to the sobering sense of the issue at stake.
—Venters, will you leave Cottonwoods at once and forever?— asked Tull, tensely.
—Why?— rejoined the rider.
—Because I order it.—
Venters laughed in cool disdain.
The red leaped to Tull's dark cheek.
—If you don't go it means your ruin,— he said, sharply.
—Ruin!— exclaimed Venters, passionately. —Haven't you already ruined me? What do you call ruin? A year ago I was a rider. I had horses and cattle of my own. I had a good name in Cottonwoods. And now when I come into the village to see this woman you set your men on me. You hound me. You trail me as if I were a rustler. I've no more to lose--except my life.—
—Will you leave Utah?—
—Oh! I know,— went on Venters, tauntingly, —it galls you, the idea of beautiful Jane Withersteen being friendly to a poor Gentile. You want her all yourself. You're a wiving Mormon. You have use for her--and Withersteen House and Amber Spring and seven thousand head of cattle!—
Tull's hard jaw protruded, and rioting blood corded the veins of his neck.
—Once more. Will you go?—
—NO!—
.................................................

U tom se trenutku iz topola pojaviše Tullovi ljudi vodeći između sebe vezanog, visokog i lijepo građenog mladića širokih, mišićavih ramena. Kad ugleda Tulla, u mladićevom pogledu zaplamsa vatra prezira i prkosa. Jane po prvi put postade svjesna tko je, zaista, njezin štićenik i upita neće li se na kraju zaljubiti u tog sjajnog mladića. Onda se njeno uzbuđenje smiri i ona sve svoje sposobnosti usmjeri na to da pronađe izlaz iz tog sukobom bremenitog stanja.
— Venters — reče bez okolišanja Tull — hoćete li smjesta i zauvijek napustiti Cotton- woods,
— Zašto? — upita mladić.
— Jer hoću da bude tako.
Venters se hladno, prezrivo nasmija, dok se oštro crvenilo penjalo u starješinine obraze.
— Ako ne odete, upozoravam vas da će to biti vaša propast.
— Propast? — uzviknu Venters. — Pa zar me već niste upropastili? Sto vi nazivate pro pašću? Prije godinu dana posjedovao sam konje i stoku i ugledno ime u Cottonwoodsu; a sada huškate na mene svoje ljude, lovite me, kao da sam neka zvijer, progonite me, kao da sam razbojnik. Propast! Što još mogu izgubiti osim vlastitog života! ?
— Dakle, hoćete li ili ne napustiti Utah?
— Oh, znam, znam da pomisao na ljepu i bogatu Jane Withersteen, prijateljicu sirotog gen tila, izaziva kod vas tjeskobu. Shvaćam, cijelu je hoćete za sobe, za mormone mnogožence: a zajedno s njom i Withersteen House, i Amber Spring, i sedam tisuća glava stoke!
Tull steže vilice dok su mu se na vratu, poput konopa, nadimale žile.
— Po posljednji put — uzvikne on stisnu tih zuba — hočete li otići ili ne?
— Ne!
..................................................

Her head was bowing to the inevitable. She was grasping the truth, when suddenly there came, in inward constriction, a hardening of gentle forces within her breast. Like a steel bar it was stiffening all that had been soft and weak in her. She felt a birth in her of something new and unintelligible. Once more her strained gaze sought the sage-slopes. Jane Withersteen loved that wild and purple wilderness. In times of sorrow it had been her strength, in happiness its beauty was her continual delight. In her extremity she found herself murmuring, —Whence cometh my help!— It was a prayer, as if forth from those lonely purple reaches and walls of red and clefts of blue might ride a fearless man, neither creed-bound nor creedmad, who would hold up a restraining hand in the faces of her ruthless people.
The restless movements of Tull's men suddenly quieted down. Then followed a low whisper, a rustle, a sharp exclamation.
—Look!— said one, pointing to the west.
—A rider!—
Jane Withersteen wheeled and saw a horseman, silhouetted against the western sky, coming riding out of the sage. He had ridden down from the left, in the golden glare of the sun, and had been unobserved till close at hand. An answer to her prayer!
—Do you know him? Does any one know him?— questioned Tull, hurriedly.
His men looked and looked, and one by one shook their heads.
—He's come from far,— said one.
—Thet's a fine hoss,— said another.
—A strange rider.—
—Huh! he wears black leather,— added a fourth.
With a wave of his hand, enjoining silence, Tull stepped forward in such a way that he concealed Venters.
The rider reined in his mount, and with a lithe forward-slipping action appeared to reach the ground in one long step. It was a peculiar movement in its quickness and inasmuch that while performing it the rider did not swerve in the slightest from a square front to the group before him.
—Look!— hoarsely whispered one of Tull's companions. —He packs two black-butted guns--low down--they're hard to see--black akin them black chaps.—
—A gun-man!— whispered another. —Fellers, careful now about movin' your hands.—
The stranger's slow approach might have been a mere leisurely manner of gait or the cramped short steps of a rider unused to walking; yet, as well, it could have been the guarded advance of one who took no chances with men.
—Hello, stranger!— called Tull. No welcome was in this greeting only a gruff curiosity.
The rider responded with a curt nod. The wide brim of a black sombrero cast a dark shade over his face. For a moment he closely regarded Tull and his comrades, and then, halting in his slow walk, he seemed to relax.
—Evenin', ma'am,— he said to Jane, and removed his sombrero with quaint grace.

Ona prikloni glavu pred neizbježnim. Nije bila pokorena. Uzmicala je, a ipak, reklo bi se da u njenu srcu nisu bile uništene sve nade, jer se i sama iznenadi gdje mrmlja riječi psalmopisca: „Podižem oči k planinama da vidim otkuda će mi doći pomoć.—
I upravo u torn trenutku Tullovi ljudi ispuste mladića kojega bijahu već pograbili. Uslijedi dugo mrmorenje, nemirno tapkanje nogama, a onda uzvik:
— Pogledajte, tamo dolje!
Jedan od ljudi pružio je ruku prema zapadu.
— Neki jahač! — reče drugi.
Jane se naglo okrene i stvarno spazi kako se, prema plamenom' nebu na zapadu, ocrtava konjanik koji je brzo napredovao uz obronak. Vjerojatno ga zbog sunčevih zraka iza njegovih leda nisu prije primijetili. Da li je to bio orgovor na njezino zazivanje,
— Poznajete li ga, Jane? — Zna li tko od vas tko je taj jahac? — brzo upita Tull.
Ljudi su gledali i gledali, onda jedan za drugim odmahnuše glavom.
— Vidi se da dolazi iz daleka — reče jedan od njih.
— I da ima dobrog konja — dodade drugi.
— Jasno, to je neki stranac.
Znakom ruke, koji je naređivao tišinu, Tull istupi naprijed, namjestivši se tako da sakrije Ventersa. Jahač se, sa svoje strane, zaustavi nedaleko i vrlo brzim pokretom skoči na zemlju, ne prestajući ni za trenutak da bude potpuno okrenut prema ljudima, koji su se nalazili pred njim.
— Gledajte — prošapta jedan mormon — ima za pojasom dva pištolja sa crvenim drškama, jedva se vide, nisko ih nosi, crne se na crnim nogavicama.
— Zacijelo neki revolveraš! — odgovori dru gi, također šapatom, i dodade: — Momci bolje ne mrdajte rukama.
Stranac se primicao polako, korakom koji je mogao značiti nemarnost ill nenaviknutost na hodanje, baš kao čovjek koji najveći dio vremena provodi na konju. Ali on je namjerno napredovao tako, i to zato što nije htio ni na trenutak izgubiti iz vida ljude koji su se nalazili pred njim, nadzirali svaki njihov pokret.
— Zdravo, stranče! — uzviknu Tull, ali u njegovim se riječima nije osjećao prizvuk dobro došlice, nego samo nestrpljiva radoznalost.
Pridošlica odgovori samo kratkim pokretom glave. Lice mu se gotovo i nije vidjelo budući da je bilo zasjenjeno obodom prostranog sombrera koji je bio crne boje baš kao i kožnato mu odijelo. Nekoliko je trenutaka pažljivo gledao Tulla i njegove ljude, onda, zastavši, pozdravi Jane skinuvši sombrero pokretom kojemu nije nedostajalo otmjenosti.
— Dobro veče, gospođo.

Jane, greeting him, looked up into a face that she trusted instinctively and which riveted her attention. It had all the characteristics of the range rider's--the leanness, the red burn of the sun, and the set changelessness that came from years of silence and solitude. But it was not these which held her, rather the intensity of his gaze, a strained weariness, a piercing wistfulness of keen, gray sight, as if the man was forever looking for that which he never found. Jane's subtle woman's intuition, even in that brief instant, felt a sadness, a hungering, a secret.
—Jane Withersteen, ma'am?— he inquired.
—Yes,— she replied.
—The water here is yours?—
—Yes.—
—May I water my horse?—
—Certainly. There's the trough.—
—But mebbe if you knew who I was--— He hesitated, with his glance on the listening men. —Mebbe you wouldn't let me water him--though I ain't askin' none for myself.—
—Stranger, it doesn't matter who you are. Water your horse. And if you are thirsty and hungry come into my house.—
—Thanks, ma'am. I can't accept for myself--but for my tired horse--—
Trampling of hoofs interrupted the rider. More restless movements on the part of Tull's men broke up the little circle, exposing the prisoner Venters.
—Mebbe I've kind of hindered somethin'--for a few moments, perhaps?— inquired the rider.
—Yes,— replied Jane Withersteen, with a throb in her voice.
She felt the drawing power of his eyes; and then she saw him look at the bound Venters, and at the men who held him, and their leader.
—In this here country all the rustlers an' thieves an' cut-throats an' gun-throwers an' all-round no-good men jest happen to be Gentiles. Ma'am, which of the no-good class does that young feller belong to?—
—He belongs to none of them. He's an honest boy.—
—You KNOW that, ma'am?—
—Yes--yes.—
—Then what has he done to get tied up that way?—
His clear and distinct question, meant for Tull as well as for Jane Withersteen, stilled the restlessness and brought a momentary silence.
—Ask him,— replied Jane, her voice rising high.
The rider stepped away from her, moving out with the same slow, measured stride in which he had approached, and the fact that his action placed her wholly to one side, and him no nearer to Tull and his men, had a penetrating significance.
—Young feller, speak up,— he said to Venters.
—Here stranger, this's none of your mix,— began Tull. —Don't try any interference. You've been asked to drink and eat. That's more than you'd have got in any other village of the Utah border. Water your horse and be on your way.—
—Easy--easy--I ain't interferin' yet,— replied the rider. The tone of his voice had undergone a change. A different man had spoken. Where, in addressing Jane, he had been mild and gentle, now, with his first speech to Tull, he was dry, cool, biting. —I've lest stumbled onto a queer deal. Seven Mormons all packin' guns, an' a Gentile tied with a rope, an' a woman who swears by his honesty! Queer, ain't that?—
—Queer or not, it's none of your business,— retorted Tull.
—Where I was raised a woman's word was law. I ain't quite outgrowed that yet.—
Tull fumed between amaze and anger.
—Meddler, we have a law here something different from woman's whim-- Mormon law!...Take care you don't transgress it.—
—To hell with your Mormon law!—
The deliberate speech marked the rider's further change, this time from kindly interest to an awakening menace. It produced a transformation in Tull and his companions. The leader gasped and staggered backward at a blasphemous affront to an institution he held most sacred. The man Jerry, holding the horses, dropped the bridles and froze in his tracks. Like posts the other men stood watchful-eyed, arms hanging rigid, all waiting.
—Speak up now, young man. What have you done to be roped that way?—
—It's a damned outrage!— burst out Venters. —I've done no wrong. I've offended this Mormon Elder by being a friend to that woman.—
—Ma'am, is it true--what he says?— asked the rider of Jane, but his quiveringly alert eyes never left the little knot of quiet men.
—True? Yes, perfectly true,— she answered.
—Well, young man, it seems to me that bein' a friend to such a woman would be what you wouldn't want to help an' couldn't help....What's to be done to you for it?—
—They intend to whip me. You know what that means--in Utah!—
—I reckon,— replied the rider, slowly.
With his gray glance cold on the Mormons, with the restive bit-champing of the horses, with Jane failing to repress her mounting agitations, with Venters standing pale and still, the tension of the moment tightened. Tull broke the spell with a laugh, a laugh without mirth, a laugh that was only a sound betraying fear.
—Come on, men!— he called.
Jane Withersteen turned again to the rider.
—Stranger, can you do nothing to save Venters?—
—Ma'am, you ask me to save him--from your own people?—
—Ask you? I beg of you!—
—But you don't dream who you're askin'.—
—Oh, sir, I pray you--save him!—
These are Mormons, an' I...—
—At--at any cost--save him. For I--I care for him!—
Tull snarled.
—You love-sick fool! Tell your secrets. There'll be a way to teach you what you've never learned....Come men out of here!—
—Mormon, the young man stays,— said the rider.
Like a shot his voice halted Tull.
—What!—
—Who'll keep him? He's my prisoner!— cried Tull, hotly. —Stranger, again I tell you--don't mix here. You've meddled enough. Go your way now or--—
—Listen!...He stays.—
Absolute certainty, beyond any shadow of doubt, breathed in the rider's low voice.
—Who are you? We are seven here.—

—LASSITER!—
It was Venters's wondering, thrilling cry that bridged the fateful connection between the rider's singular position and the dreaded name.
Tull put out a groping hand. The life of his eyes dulled to the gloom with which men of his fear saw the approach of death. But death, while it hovered over him, did not descend, for the rider waited for the twitching fingers, the downward flash of hand that did not come. Tull, gathering himself together, turned to the horses, attended by his pale comrades.

Jane ljubazno odzdravi, promatrajući ga ipak veoma pažljivo. Imao je osobine čovjeka naviklog da živi na svježem zraku: suhonjavo i opaljeno lice, sporost pokreta, pod kojima se naslućivala mačja gipkost; ali ono što je nadasve privuklo djevojčinu pažnju, bila je snaga i oštrina pogleda, a u isto vrijeme nešto u sivim očima što je ostavljalo dojam da traže nešto što još ne bijahu našle. Svojim ženskim nagonom Jane je letimičnim pogledom naslutila da je taj čovjek nosio u sebi neku tajnu i da je njegovo normalno duševno stanje moralo da se sastoji u iščekivanju i tuzi.
— Jane Withersteen, zar ne, gospođo? — upita on zatim.
— Da.
— Ova voda je vaša?
— Da.
— Dozvoljavnte li mi da napojim konja?
— Svakuko. Pojilo je tamo, pogledajte.
— Hvala, all kad bi znali tko sam, možda... —
Oklijevao je, zndržavajući pogled na ljudima, koji su slušali pnžljivi i tihi, onda nastavi:
—...možda mi ne bisto dozvolili, premda, najzad niš- ta ne tražim za samog sebe.
— Ma tko da ste, stranče, napojite samo svog konja. A ako ste gladni i žedni, uđite bez ustezanja u moju kuću.
— Hvala, gospođo. Rekoh da za sebe ništa ne tražim, all za SVOG konja, koji je umoran ...
Učini nekoliko kornka i pri torn, pošto se Tullovi ljudi nisu mirni, spazi zarobljenika.
— Ah! Ah! Možda sam poremetio... Vidim da ste imali nekoga posla ovdje — reče.
— Da — odgovori Jane, a u glasu joj je bilo nešto poput suzdržanog jecaja.
Ona opazi da je pridošlica bacio pogled na vezanog Ventersa, pa na ljude koji su ga okružili, i najzad na njihova starješinu. Najzad reče:
— Događa se da u ovom kraju kradljivci stoke, razbojnici, revolveraši, jednom riječju svi probisvjeti, pripadaju rasi gentila. Kojoj od tih kategorija pripada ovaj mladić, gospodo?
— Ni jednoj. To je častan mladić.
— Jeste li sigurni u to, gospođo?
— Da... Oh, da!
— Pa što je onda rđavo učinio, te je vezan?
Njegovo precizno pitanje, upućeno jasnim glasom i Jani i Tullu, ostade nekoliko trenutaka bez odgovora. Najzad djevojka jednostavno reče:
— Pitajte njega.
Stranac se udalji od Jane istim onim korakom, koji bi se mogao nazvati opreznim i od-mjerenim, i stade između nje i Tulla.
— Govorite, mladiću — reče Ventersu.
— Nisu to vaši poslovi, stranče — umiješa se Tull — i ne uplićite se u ono što vas se ne tdče. Ponuđeno vam je da jedete i pijete, a to je čak i vise nego što ste mogli očekivati u ma kojem drugom naselju na granici Utaha. Napo jite konja i onda produžite svojim putom.
— Polako, polako prijatelju... Još se ne upličem... — odgovori jahač i njegov glas od jeknu drugačije, kao da je poticao od nekog dru gog; bio je hladan i zajedljiv u odnosu na lju bazan, skoro nježan, kojim se obraćao Jane.
— Kako se čini, stigao sam da prisustvujem nekom pomalo čudnom događaju. Sedam naoružanih mormona i jedan, vezani gentil, za čiju čast garan tira jedna žena! Čudno, čudno, zar vam se ne čini?
— Bilo čudno ili ne, to je stvar koja vas se ne tiče — jetko odbrusi Tull.
— U kraju u kojem sam se rodio, riječ jedne žene predstavlja zakon, a ja to još nisam zabo ravio.
Tull je lebdio između zabezeknutosti i gnjeva. Onda još jetkije odgovori:
— Mi imamo ovdje zakone koji ne ovise o hirovima neke žene, a to su zakoni mormona... ! Dobro pazite da ih i vi ne prekršite!
— Do đavola vaši zakoni, mormone!
Taj odlučni odgovor bio je popraćen promjenom u držanju stranca, koje se pretvori u jasnu prijetnju. Izgledalo je da se Tull zanjihao i zamucao zbog tog psovanja mormonskih zakona koji su za njega predstavljali nešto najsvetije. Jerry, koji je držao konje za uzde, od silnog iznenađenja ispustr vođice. Ostali ljudi se ukočiše, u stavu iščekivanja, netremice gledajući stranca. Ovaj kao da uopće nije vodio računa o njima, produži okrenuvši se Ventersu:
— Hajde, recite mladiću, šta ste učinili da su vas tako vezali?
— To je nepravedna uvreda! — prasnu Ven ters. — Ništa rđavo nisam učinio. Ovaj starje šina mormona izgleda da je uvrijeđen samo zato što se gospodica odnosi dobroćudno prema meni.
— Da li je to istina, gospođo? — upita ja hač, obraćajući se Jane, ali ni za trenutak ne ispuštajući iz vida grupu ljudi.
— Da, istina je, čista istina — odgovori dje vojka.
— Onda, mladiću, biti prijatelj jedne ovakve žene, izgleda mi savršeno prirodna stvar, a vje rujem da ne bi to mogli učiniti drugačije ni kad biste htjeli. Kažite, šta su vam htjeli učiniti da bi vas kaznili za taj zločin?
— Htjeli su me išibati, a vi dobro znate šta to znači u Utahu!
— Znam — polako odgovori stranac.
Svi su šutjeli u iščekivanju šta će dalje biti. Ali onda Tull prekide tišinu smijehom, smijehom bez života, kojim je lose prikrivao svoj strah.
— Hajde, odlazimo! — zapovjedi obraćajući se svojim ljudima.
Jane se ponovo obrati neznancu.
— Stranče — zamoli — zar zbilja ništa ne možete učiniti da spasite Ventersa?
— Gospođo, tražite od mene da ga spasim... od vaših vlastitih ljudi?
— Da li tražim? Ja vas molim!
— Ali ne znate kome upućujete tu molbu!
— Oh, gospodine, spasite ga! Spasite!
— Oni su mormoni, a ja...
— Spasite ga, po... po svaku cijenu, jer... jer mi je stalo do njega!
Tull se iskesi.
— Dobra, dobra ludice, oboljela od ljubavne bolesti! — uzviknu. — Otkrijte mu svoje tajne. Hajde, vi ostali, ođlazimo, kad vam kažem!
— Mormoni, mladić će ostati ovdje — reče stranac, a njegov glas zaustavi Tulla poput metka.
— Sta kažete?
— Kažem da će mladić ostati ovdje.
— A tko će me spriječiti da ga ne odve dem? On je moj zarobljenik! — uzviknu Tull. — Stranče, još vas jednom upozoravam da se ne miješate u naše stvari. Već sam i suviše bio strpljiv. Odlazite svojim putom, inače ...
— Čujte, vi! Mladić ostaje ovdje! U tihom i mirnom strančevom glasu osjećao se zvuk potpune sigurnosti, što nadasve iznenadi starješinu. On ipak odgovori:
— Pa tko ste vi? I zar ne vidite da nas je sedam ovdje?

— LASSITER !

Čuvši to čudesno ime, Venters ispusti krik. Tullu se opustiše ruke, a oči mu potamniše, kao da je očekivao smrtonosni hitac. Ali smrt, koja je lebdjela nad njegovom glavom, ne spusti se na njega. Lassiter je uzalud čekao da njegovi dršćući prsti polete k pištolju koji je imao za pasom. Onda se Tull okrenu svojim drugovima, koji su ga čekali blijedih lica i krenu prema konjima.