It didn’t take long to determine there was not much more information to come from Lieutenant Sessions. And it was obvious that he had no interest in following the matter further, so they thanked him for his help and bade him a good evening. Outside the gate, Conner decided to let the patrol go into camp, so they could cook their supper while he and Hawk went in search of Donald Lewis. Conner had hoped to have the men eat supper in the Fort Benton mess hall, but Sessions said there would not be food enough for seventeen extra men. “If I’d known you were coming, I could have made provisions.” Conner was not pleased with the lieutenant’s lack of hospitality but thanked him for his information. In the saddle again, they rode upstream from the town until a suitable place to camp was found. Then, leaving Corporal Johnson to take charge of the camp, Hawk and Conner rode back to town.

The Baptist church was easy enough to spot, even from the edge of town. It was sitting on a grassy bluff close by the river, with a well-traveled wagon track leading up to it from the main street. When they got up to the churchyard, they could see a large fire burning behind the church and a small group of people gathered around it. “Looks like they’re fixing supper,” Conner commented. They stepped down and tied their horses at the hitching rail in front, then walked around back.

“Evenin’, gentlemen,” the Reverend Henry Bridger greeted them as he walked to meet them. “Can I be of service to you?”

“Evenin’,” Conner returned. “I understand the survivors of that tragedy with the Mormon mule train are staying here. Are you Donald Lewis?”

“No, sir, I’m Henry Bridger. I’m the pastor of this church.” He turned to point toward the fire. “Those people around the fire are the people you’re lookin’ for. The tall, thin fellow is Donald Lewis. I oughta point out one thing. Ever since this terrible thing happened to these poor folks, everybody’s been callin’ them Mormons. They ain’t Mormons, they’re Quakers, or Friends, as they refer to themselves.” He smiled broadly. “Other’n that, they’re just like you and me. I hope you’re bringin’ good news ’bout the evil scoundrels who took their money.”

“Well, thank you very much for telling us,” Conner said. “I don’t wanna start off on the wrong foot, but I’m afraid I don’t have any good news.” He and Hawk followed the preacher over to the fire, where four men, one woman, and a young boy were gathered. There was a large iron pot on the fire, and the woman was tending it.

“Donald,” Bridger called out. “This officer here was lookin’ for you.”