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Show 352 WESTERN WILDS. " Are you fixed, brethren ?" " We are, bishop. Which is it to be ?" " You know the endowment penalty second grade. The daugh-ters of Zion must be protected." " But that is not " " No ! It is death so written; but this time the other will be bet-ter. You understand ? Hist!" They vanished in the darkness. Thomas James's cup of earthly happiness seemed full. He felt no consciousness that this was a world of errors, and that he had committed a very serious one. Were not he and Christina to be man and wife in a few weeks, and would it not be all right then ? It was midnight before he gave her a good- bye kiss, and took the quiet road down along the banks of the Logan River. The late half- moon was just beginning to peep over the rugged Wasatch, casting great scallops of light and shade across the valley. How musically the river rippled over its clear, pebbly bottom ! how pleasantly gurgled the wa-ter- seeks along the road- side ! And how still was the peaceful Mormon town ! how far superior to the manufacturing cities of the East, where there was riot and strife, and sometimes murder ! What a kind and social people was this people ! How little crime there was here ! He laughed aloud as he thought of the absurd stories he had heard concerning " the danger of being a bishop's rival." And as the bright surface of the crystal stream shone in the moonlight, it seemed to him a fit emblem of the peace over the land; its dancing wavelets repre-sented the joy in his own heart. Yes, this was indeed a land of peace ; and if Mormonism was not true, these were in a sense " God's people," among whom all honest men were safe. Ha! What was that? Nothing, apparently, but some brother's cow moving among the tall weeds. Snapping oif the head of a wild sunflower with his light walking- cane, he turned into the dark grove which lay between him and home. Sharp and shrill came a whistle from in front. He started back suddenly. A rope fell about his heels. He instinctively threw up his hands to save himself from falling. A sack was cast over his head. It was drawn tight from behind. He struggled des-perately, but his mouth was so bound he could not utter a cry. Stout arms had hold of him; they pinioned every limb. Helpless, voice-less, still desperately struggling, he was borne away, he knew not whither. |