Travis Gully, who, owing to the narrowness of his self constituted domain and the wild desert environments, had allowed himself to drift backward, and contact with conditions with which he was unfamiliar had awakened in him the spirit of alert defensiveness of primitive man. He felt the sting of resentment at the approach of the strangers, and it was with a forced smile, and hesitating handshake that he greeted the foremost of the party, who had at last ridden within the front dooryard. Glancing over his shoulder, he assured himself of the safety of his family. The wife and three eldest children had remained standing near the door, while two little towheads, that protruded from behind the building, showed where the two youngest had taken refuge. Gully invited the stranger to dismount, but the latter, thanking him curtly, remained mounted until the entire party, consisting of some twenty-five or thirty men, equipped with a complete field outfit, wagons loaded with tents and provisions, abundance of stock, both draft and pack animals, had arrived within hailing distance. Turning in his saddle, the chief, or man in charge, raised his gauntleted hand with a commanding jesture, and with brakeblocks grinding against glistening and heated tires, rattle of chains and shouts from the teamsters, the procession came to a stop. Dismounting, he gave a few instructions to his men, who remained on their wagons; then returning to the waiting homesteader, asked as to the conditions for making permanent camp in the neighborhood. On being assured that there was no water for the stock nearer than three miles, the windmill overtopping the well at that point being in full view, was pointed out to him, and minute directions for finding the road that ran tortuously through the miles of sagebrush to this oasis, was given. With a courteous bow, the chief mounted, gave orders to his men to follow, and moved off in the direction of the well. As the last sound of the departing cavalcade was stifled in the muffling sand, Mrs. Gully came to where her husband was standing, gazing absently in the direction the strangers had gone. Who were they and what were they here for, was the absorbing and unanswered question; who was this clean, trim man, dressed in his khaki suit and neat leather leggings, who had such absolute authority over this thoroughly equipped expedition; not a homesteader, this was evident by his professional appearance; not a fugitive, because his manner was too gentle. Who was he, and what was his business? CHAPTER V.