New York ledger vol. 26 no. 48

              LIFE IN SALT LAKE CITY;
OR,
A Visit to the Mormons.
By LEON LEWIS,
AUTHOR OF "THE GIRL HERMIT," "THE BOY MA-GICIAN," "THE BROKEN HOME,""RED KNIFE," ETC., ETC., ETC.
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE SHADOW OF A TERRIBLE SECRET.
I'll keep this secret from the world
As warily as those that deal in poison
Keep poison from their children. WEBSTER.
It was natural for Winnie Burton, who had always been especially guarded from all peril and suffering, to be doubly pained by the strange disappearance of her parents, and the non-return of Mountain Jack to her.
Her anguish, therefore, as she waited, alone, at that dead hour of the night, for tidings of these absent ones, was simply unutterable.
"Oh, where, where can they be?" she mused, as wild-eyed and excited as a hunted doe. "My poor mother! how she must suffer! And father; what can have kept him? And Mountain Jack; why don't he come?"
Again listening, she again looked at her watch, half hoping that she had made a mistake in re-gard to the length of time Mountain Jack had been absent. But this look assured her that he had indeed been gone a full hour, and a sense of downright despair took possession of her.
"They will not return," she sighed. "Some-thing dreadful lias happened."
A wild burst of grief followed.
At the very bottom of the well of despair, however, there is always a bucketful of hope. No sooner, therefore, had Winnie ceased to hope for the return of her parents and Mountain Jack, than her thoughts turned to herself— to her own resources— to the hopeful points, in fact, of her own situation.
She was really as brave as noble—as energetic as she was gentle—and it would have been a simple impossibility for her to long remain under the iron heel of despair.
She soon became calm, therefore, as new as she was to all such trials. She remembered that she had a revolver at hand, and that Elder True was a prisoner. She reflected that the doors and windows were all strongly secured, and that she could offer a dangerous resistance to any at- tack to which she might be subjected. And her thoughts thus taking the right turn, her fair countenance soon became only less resolute than beautiful.
"After all," she ejaculated, with the animation of a new- found hopefulness, " all is not lost. There is still a chance for us."
As if Fate had only waited for this moment, Winnie now suddenly heard footsteps. They were quick and firm, and close at hand, approach-ing rapidly.
How her features brightened! "
It's Weber!" she cried, flying to the door. " At last! at last!"
The new-comer was promptly at the entrance, and a peculiar knock—the one agreed upon—as quickly resounded. Winnie hastened to unlock the door and open it, and Mountain Jack entered.
He was calm as ever, but gravely thoughtful.
"I'm back again finally." he said, as Winnie closed and locked the door. "You'll excuse my delay when you hear what has caused it."
Her soul in a flutter, Winnie seized him by the hand and crew him into the sitting-room, at the same time scanning his face.
"You have learned- nothing?" she faltered.
"Absolutelynothing," he answered sadly.
The shock these few words gave the anxious girl can be imagined.
"On arriving at the Bishop's," Jack proceeded to report. " I found the house dark and silent— like all the houses in the neighborhood. I knocked again and again, but no onecame. Then I made a tour of the place, knocking at the win-dows and calling, and at length I roused up the old fellow in charge of the premises, the Bishop's only servant, who came here lately from Lan-cashire. His name is Cuppings. He seems to be honesty itself. He was entirely alone in the house, he said—"
"And Mrs. Coulter— is she ill ?"
"Mrs. Coulter went, three days ago, to Tooele City, on a visit to a brother, and has not come back. She is in her usual health, so far as is known to Cuppings."
"And the Bishop himself?" " He has gone to Heber— went early in the morning." 
"Then he did not send for father?"
"No. The whole thing was a ruse to entrap the Doctor. Mrs. Coulter is not ill; the Bishop has not sent for your father. Both are out of town, in fact. And Mr. Cuppings went to bed early, and hasn't the least knowledge of any sickness or message, or what not."
"And this old fellow, you think, is honest?"
"I would stake my life upon his sincerity. His every word and action was genuine." Winnie was dumb with amazement.
"I comprehended at last," continued Weber, " that the clue of the mystery was not to be had at the Bishop's. Where should I go next ? Evi-dently along the streets between here and there, on the route your parents would have naturally taken. Not a soul was stirring, however— not a light visible, not a trace of any conflict to be dis-covered. Then I went to the Elder's. You know how his house is arranged? There are six front doors, one for each of his wives, according to the usual custom. To the right is a seventh door- that of an addition he has recently built on, with a view to its occupancy by you, Winnie. To the left there is an eighth door, which is that of True's own residence."
"Well?" breathed the girl eagerly.
"I found the same order of things reigning here as at Coulter's. The lights were all out— everything still— everybody abed. I pounded away on the eighth door, and at length aroused a sleepy, stupid servant— the Elder's man Bruel. He informed me that his master has been absent since morning."
"And is this Bruel honest ?"
"As in the other case, I'd stake my life upon his honesty. He is, in fact, too ignorant to be otherwise than honest. Seeing that nothing could be got out of him, I routed out several of the Elder's wives— only to hear from a portion of them that they had no idea of the Elder's whereabouts, and from the other portion that they neither knew nor cared what had become of him. There was one door, however— that of the first Mrs. True, I was told— which did not open to my knockings. Rendered suspicious by that circumstance, I demanded an explanation, and was informed by Bruel, and by several of the wives, that the first Mrs. True has been absent in the East several years, on a protracted visit to her relatives."
"I have heard something of that absence," communicated Winnie. " It seems that the first Mrs. True left the Elder abruptly, when he an-nounced to her his intention of taking another wife, and he hasn't seen her since. To hush up this desertion, he has preserved the original house just as she left it. He even pretends that he expects her back, and has built an addition for each of his other wives, from time to time, as fast as he married them; but they have not scrupled to say that the first Mrs. True— who was really a splendid woman— has utterly de-serted him."
"They have just told me so, in the plainest of terms," proceeded Weber. " Seeing that no clue to your father's disappearance was to be had in that quarter, and noting how long I had been in making these visits, I hurried back to you. And this is all I have to report to you, Miss Winnie. Not the least hint have I gained—not the least theory have I formed— as to what has become of your parents."
"They have vanished utterly, then ?"
"As if swallowed up in the earth !"
"Yet it is certain that this old Elder knows what has happened to them."
"I agree with you. True is in the secret. He is indeed the prime mover in the whole business."
"Then let us call upon True for information. Let us force him to tell us the secret." "Capital! Lead on with the light, Winnie, and we'll call him to account!"
Acting upon this purpose, the couple were soon in the little prison-like room in which they had placed the Elder. They found him pros-trate, and breathing heavily, his face and beard white with the ashes in which he had rolled and tumbled, in a vain effort to release himself.
"We have come to have a talk with you, Elder," announced Weber grimly. "This stuf-fing will have to be removed for the moment from your mouth. But understand one thing dis-tinctly. At your least attempt to call for help, I'll knock you on the head with the butt of my rifle!"
He removed the gag from True's mouth, and placed him in a sitting posture against one of the walls of the vault, while Winnie flashed her light upon him.
Spitting and rubbing his mouth, True looked from one to the other with a desperate calmness. He was shivering with cold and anger. His face was livid, his eyes as wild and ugly as those of a baited wolf. His seizure, it was evident, had touched him closely, interfering with all his projects.
"Well, what do you want of me?" he de-manded sullenly.
"We wish to know where Dr. Burton and his wife are," declared Weber sternly. "I have been to Coulter's and to your place, making in-quiries, but have not been able to get track of them. What was your plan for their seizure? What has been done with them ?"
The Elder's only answer was an insolent stare of defiance, accompanied with a smile of wicked satisfaction.
"You may as well be frank with us," contin-ued Weber. with a tone that was in itself a men- ace. "You have virtually asserted to Miss Win-nie that you know where the Doctor and his wife are—"
"That was merely to wheedle her," inter-rupted the villain briefly.
"Do you mean to say, then, that you are ig-norant of the whole matter? that you don't know where they are, nor what has happened to them since they left this house ?"
"That's jest what I mean to say, sir!" " Have you caused anyone to attack, or in any way to molest, the Doctor and his wife, or either of them?"
"No, sir!"
"Have you the least knowledge of the vio-lence that has certainly been used to prevent the return of the Doctor and Mrs. Burton?"
"Not the least, sir!"
"You assert and say and declare, then, that you have had nothing to do with the disappear-ance of the Doctor and his wife, either person-ally or by the hands of another?" "Yes, that's jest what I say and declare," af-firmed the Elder, as he sent a sly, quick, anx-ious glance past his visitors and out into the cel-lar. "I've no idee as to what, has happened to the Doctor and Mrs. Burton. What I said or im-plied to Winnie to the contrary of this was a mere pretence. I wished to scare her, to get from her a promise to marry me. And this is the truth, and the whole truth of the matter !"
There was nothing in True's manner to show that he was lying, but yet Weber did not put the least faith in his declarations.
"And now you believe that I'm innercent, don't you?" demanded the Elder, trying to look grieved and injured. "No, I don't!" replied Weber bluntly.
"Nor I either!" murmured Winnie.
"Then we'll pursue the inquiry," declared Jack. " When did you see Bishop Coulter last?" " I couldn't say," and the Elder sent another quick glance of inquiry into the cellar. " About when was it?"
"It might have been about a week ago, or two or three weeks. I can't pretend to say exactly. It may have been a month sence I saw him—"
"To speak to him, you mean ?"
"Yes. sence I saw him to speak to him."
"Well, have you ever said anything to Bishop Coulter of your desire to marry Miss Winnie?" " Never!"
Are you sure of this ?" 
Sartain! I'm not the man to talk of sech things so loosely. Bishop Coulter and I’re al- most strangers to each other. I've never had much deal with him."
"And you are sure that von have never talked with him about Miss Winnie and her parents ?"
"As sure's I'm livin’."
"Have you entered into any plot or plan with Bishop Coulter against this young lady or her parents ?"
"Sartainly not."
"Was it  not agreed between you and the Bishop that he should seize the Doctor and his wife, or in some way interfere with them ?"
"No, sir, it wasn't. Why. what are you talkin' about ? I know nothin' of the Bishop's affairs, and haven't said ten words to him on any subjec' for a year past. He's nothin' to me, nor I to him. I've never spoken a word to him about this young woman or her parents. I've come to no agreements with nobody about nothin'. I ' in in-nercent as an angel!" Mountain Jack" continued to regard the hypo-crite attentively.
"He means a ‘Destroying Angel,' I think," sug-gested Winnie.
"Yes, he can't mean any other kind," vouched Jack, "for there's not a word of truth in any of the statements he has made us. He has plotted against your parents, Winnie, and he does know what has happened to them. And that he is in league with Bishop Coulter is a fact that is al-ready proven— in my way of thinking-beyond all question!"
"I agree with you at every point," said Winnie.
The prisoner's face flush'ed still more redly. His whole bearing was one of desperate denial.
"Thank ye— both of ye," he said mockingly, as he again peered into the cellar with a wistful and expectant look. "I don't care whether you believe me or not!"
"But you will care, before we are done with you," returned Weber sternly.
"It is useless for you to lie to us. We do not attach the least weight to your falsehoods. You had better make a clean breast of the whole business. The Doc-tor and his wife are in trouble through your agency, but they can hardly be in a worse fix than you are. You ' re not far from death's door at this moment, unless you change your tactics. Let's have a good confession, Elder, and be quick in getting at it!"
"I've said all I have to say," responded the prisoner sullenly. "I know nothin' of the Doc- tor's disappearance."
"You persist, then, in this line of conduct?" queried Jack, with a marked impatience.
"As you see!" answered True mockingly. "And you won't get anything further out of me, you may be sartain!"
"Think twice about that," enjoined Weber, cocking his rifle and pressing the muzzle against the Elder's forehead. "Tell me where Doctor Burton is, before I count three, or your life is forfeited!"
The prisoner smiled mockingly. An awful rage flamed from his eyes and features, but they did not show the least sign of weakness. To the contrary, they proclaimed that he would sooner die then and there than give the infor-mation demanded.
"You may kill me, and welcome," he cried. " But you won't find out by me where the Doc- tor is. You can go on with yer shooting!" Weber made a feint of proceeding to extremi- ties, but True did not move a muscle. Grim, rigid, a picture of obstinacy, he sat awaiting his doom, which he clearly believed to be imminent. This dogged resolution was something for which Mountain Jack was hardly prepared. It at first puzzled him strangely. Then a ray of light beamed upon him. Lowering his rifle and uncocking it, he trembled violently. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, arid his fea-tures suddenly became rigid with horror.
"I understand this business," he muttered, turning his gaze upon Winnie. "Well, what is the secret of his conduct ?" 
"Simply this. He has consigned your parents to such a terrible fate, Winnie, that he does not dare tell us what it is! He knows that we— and I especially— could not stand such an infernal revelation. He knows that I would kill him on the spot!"
The Elder chuckled savagely. His eyes and features flamed like live coals."
"But what can he have done with them that is so terrible?" asked Winnie.
"The secret's too horrible for even our guesses," replied Jack. "Possibly he has sent them to be drowned in the Lake— possibly he has caused their dead bodies to be cast among the wolves in the mountains!" The horror of Winnie was beyond expression.
"Well, one thing is certain," resumed Jack, leaning his rifle against the wall. "The mis-creant is in our power, and shall answer with body and soul, even to his life, for whatever has befallen your parents!"
"You may think so, if yer nater's of a hope-ful sort," sneered the prisoner. "But you'll have all yer pains for nothin'. I am not so help-less as you think I am. I have friends all around me. A man o' my kind's not to be snuffed out like a candle. You won't be able to do anything with me!"
"We'll see about that," said Jack. " To be-gin with, I’ll see if there is anything in your purse or pockets to betray you!" This investigation was made without more ado. The result was the discovery of a tobacco-box, a purse well filled with money, a large pocket- knife and a bunch of keys. 
"I see nothing here to enlighten us," mut-tered Jack.
"But I do," murmured Winnie, as she seized the keys eagerly, looking fixedly at one of them. "This key is exactly like the key of our front door."
"Is it?" asked Weber, in astonishment. "It may be a duplicate then. The old sinner has been hanging about here a great deal lately. May he not have taken it into his head to enter the house unseen? It's nothing to get an ex-tra key to these ordinary locks— or to a dozen of them, for that matter. Ah! the villain laughs! He can't control himself! The key is a dupli-cate of the one belonging to your front door."
"And all the others are duplicates, I think," murmured Winnie wonderingly. " The second largest looks exactly like the key of the sitting-room door. May not the Elder have obtained duplicates of all our keys to further his prowl-ings? See, he laughs again!"
The Elder was indeed strangely jubilant. The hunted look had partially disappeared from his features. Indeed, he seemed "himself again!"
"We have found him out, it's clear," said Weber. "The keys are evidently duplicates. Suppose we try one?"
"Well, I—"
The remark was suspended sharply.
"What did you hear— or see?" asked Jack, as the girl took a listening attitude.
She smiled through a sudden pallor.
"I must be nervous," she murmured, "or have key ‘on the brain!'" "And why, dear?" "Why, just because we were talking of dupli-cate keys and secret prowlings. I thought, or fancied," that I heard the key of the sitting-room door turned in the lock!"
"You did? Then listen!"
They both listened intently, looking startled, but heard only the chirping of a cricket in some nook near them.
"You gave me quite a start," whispered Jack. "For it suddenly occurred to me that this Elder might have confederates in waiting, and that they might have duplicate keys of the house, so as to be able to enter at any minute. Ah!"
He started as if shot. Winnie seized his arm convulsively.
"You heard them then ?" he breathed, carry-ing his hand to his revolver.
"Yes! Footsteps!"
There was no mistake about it. Tramp! tramp! resounded a double tread in the sitting-room above them! Tramp! tramp ! it came on the cel-lar stairs!
CHAPTER X.
WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO DR. BURTON.
How sudden are the blows of fate! what change,
What revolution, in the state of glory!
CIBBER.
The anxiety of Dr. Burton, as he descended the steps of his dwelling, with the messenger who had demanded his immediate presence at Bishop Coulter's— to resume that branch of our narrative— was of the most harrowing descrip-tion.
Was the demand for his services an honest one? or was it a ruse to entrap him?
"See here, my man," he said to the messenger, halting at the gate. "Are you in the Bishop's employ ?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is your name ?"
"Krebbling."
"A young German, I judge, by your name and accent?"
"Yes, sir— born in Hanover."
"What is your position at the Bishop's ?"
"I am the Bishop's valet, coachman, groom, and man of all work— the only servant he keeps.
I do anything I am told to do."
"Do you know what is the matter with Mrs. Coulter?"
"No, sir."
"Do you even know that she is really ill ?"
Another negative.
"Then tell me what you do know?"
"All I know is this. The Bishop woke me out of a sound sleep, told me that Mrs. Coulter had been taken dangerously ill, and ordered me to go at once for a doctor. 'Which one ?' asked I. ‘No matter which,' he replied, 'Bromley or Burton.' I accordingly called at Bromley's first, but he was absent, as I told you."
Dr. Burton drew a sigh of relief.
"This looks honest enough," he said to him-self. " I’ll respond to the call, and as soon as I can. If the Bishop had been up to some game, he would hardly have left his messenger a choice of physicians."
Reassured, he set out rapidly in the direction of Bishop Coulter's, Krebbling keeping close to his side. A rapid walk of several blocks was soon accomplished.
"Here we are," then announced the messen-ger.
They had reached an ordinary wood dwelling, a story and a half in height, which stood near the centre of a block, at a considerable distance from any other building.
"I see no light," remarked the Doctor.
"A light in our sitting-room is not visible from the street," explained Krebbling. " But I left a lamp in the hall."
Leading the way into the house, the messen-ger closed the door and lighted a lamp. Then he conducted the Doctor through a long corridor, with several turns, which eventually terminated at the door of a room which was lost, as it were, in the depths of the dwelling. Bestowing a discreet knock upon this door, Krebbling pushed it open, at the same time withdrawing from if, while he waved the physician into the room thus revealed, and announced:
"Dr. Burton." A stir in the room followed, and the solitary individual therein advanced to meet the Doctor, behind whom Krebbling had closed the door promptly.
This individual was a large, portly man, about sixty years of age, with a coarse, sinister counte-nance, somewhat puffy cheeks, a bald head, a pair of black, snaky eyes, and a mouth which only meanness and wickedness, in a long course of years, could have fashioned.
He was the Bishop of one of the twenty bish-oprics into which Salt Lake City is divided. "Good- evening, Doctor Burton," said he, ex-tending a clammy hand lifelessly. "You are quite well, I hope ?"
"Quite well, Bishop Coulter, thank you," re- turned the physician. "How is your health, Bishop ?" " Most excellent."
"And Mrs. Coulter's?"
"The same as my own— never better. But be seated, Doctor," and the Bishop advanced a chair.
"Never better!" exclaimed Doctor Burton, taking the proffered seat, and looking greatly astonished. "Did I understand you correctly, Bishop? Did you say that Mrs. Coulter's health is now most excellent? never better?"
The Bishop nodded assent.
"But your man Krebbling told me that she was seriously ill! He told me—"
"Just what I told him to tell you, Doctor," interrupted the Bishop, seating himself. "Kreb- bling is both trusty and intelligent, but in this matter he has been only a parrot— repeating what I told him."
The physician was momently dumb with as-tonishment.
"Then Mrs. Coulter is not ill?" he at length inquired, as he scrutinized the Bishop keenly. " No more than you are, my dear Doctor."
Dr. Burton arose from his seat, with a flush of anger and annoyance creeping into his features.
"Not ill!" he ejaculated. "Then I consider this conduct insulting. Bishop Coulter. And I resent it as an outrage."
"Softly, softly, my dear Doctor," returned the Bishop. "Don't work yourself into a passion. No insult has been given you— no outrage com-mitted. The explanation of the whole matter is simple. I have merely availed myself of a little subterfuge to secure your presence. Desiring to see you— in fact, having important business with you— I have chosen to give a false reason, instead of the real one, for asking you to come here. This false reason is merely to deceive the outside world. The real reason I will at once make known to you. Be seated again, Doctor, and rest assured that I am acting in your inter-est quite as much as in my own."
The physician resumed his seat, but with a marked constraint and impatience.
"Let me know at once what you are driving at, Bishop," he enjoined.
"My wife and daugh-ter have justly conceived some alarm at this strange summons, and I am anxious to return to them immediately."
"You will not return to them to- night, Dr. Burton," returned Coulter quickly, in a hard, metallic voice.
"Not return to them to- night!" repeated the physician, in amazement and anger, as he again arose to his feet.
"No, sir. You are at this moment a prisoner. The door by which you entered this room is locked on the other side. And a number of stout, armed men are within easy call, awaiting only a word from me to enforce my wishes."
"A prisoner! The door locked! Armed men in waiting!" ejaculated the physician, as if unable to credit his hearing. "In Heaven's name, Bishop Coulter, what is the meaning of this conduct?"
"It means," replied Coulter, settling himself grimly into his chair, "that you stand accused of serious offences against the peace of this terri-tory— of offences into which it is my duty, as the Bishop of your ward, to make due inquiry." "Of what offences am I accused?"
"Of nearly every crime in the calendar," de-clared Coulter, with an insolent smirk—" such as malpractice, forgery, robbery, assault and bat- tery, and even murder."
For a full minute Dr. Burton stared at the Bishop, with eyes that seemed bursting from their sockets— such was his horror, amazement and stupefaction.
"Impossible!" he then articulated.
"No; the charge is only too true," asserted Coulter, with an insolent smile, as he lifted a formidable batch of papers from a table near him. "Here are the indictments in the several cases— some eight or ten of them. These in-dictments have been duly found against you during the last sitting of the grand- jury. And I feel at liberty to add that I have the witnesses at hand to convict you on each and every indictment."
"Impossible!" repeated Dr. Burton. " As I have not been guilty of any of these crimes, no indictments can have been found against me. Besides, had any complaints been  made against me, I should have heard of the fact promptly from District Attorney Mowbray, who is a per-sonal friend and a Gentile—"
"No, he is neither," interrupted Coulter, with another insolent smirk. "District Attorney Mowbray is merely a Latter-day saint who passes for a Gentile, for the better service of his church and his people!"
There was such an air of truth about the Bish-op, such a serious candor in his statements, that the physician was startled.
"You have accordingly been indicted, in the manner stated," proceeded Coulter, " and you are now under arrest, awaiting trial and conviction under the said indictments!" At last it crept into the physician's soul that there was some terrible plot behind the Bishop's declarations.
"After all," he mused, "why not? These Mormons will swear to anything," at the instiga-tion of their leaders. A horrible plot has been formed against us!"
His reflections soon took a definite shape.
"I demand more explicit information about this business," he observed. "Give me the partic-ulars of one of these cases— that of the murder case, for instance."
The Bishop again smiled insolently.
"I do not propose to try you to-night— here and at; this late hour," he responded. "It is enough for the present that you are in custody!"
"But all this is infamous," cried the physician, with increasing anger and disgust. " I will not put up with such treatment!"
"Yes, you will— I promise you!"
"But I won't, I tell you," declared the Doc-tor, drawing his revolver. "I will resist to the last extremity!"
"That's easy to say," sneered Coulter. "The only trouble is in the execution. Of what use will all your powers of resistance be to you? See here!" He touched a bell on the table near him, and a door leading into an adjoining apartment was instantly opened. In the room thus revealed, three ruffianly looking men were visible, armed with rifles, knives and revolvers.
"You see ?" exclaimed the Bishop complacent-ly. "Resistance is out of the question!"
"I can at least die in battling for my rights!" murmured the physician desperately.
"No; you can't; even die— at least not here." returned Coulter. "You'd spoil my carpets and furniture. Permit me to say, therefore, in the interests of the general peace— including yours— that I'll have you seized and handcuffed, like a common felon. at the least sign of vio-lence you may permit yourself to indulge in. Understand ?"
The flood of conflicting emotions surging in the physician's soul prevented him from speak-ing.
"I am charitable enough to suppose that you do understand me," announced the Bishop. "The odds against you are too heavy! You will bow to the inevitable!"
He touched the bell again, and the door be-tween the two rooms was closed.
"And you needn't blame me for the trouble that has come upon you," proceeded Coulter, in a voice that was even harder and stonier than his gaze. "You have only yourself to thank for it. You have chosen to butt your head against a stone-wall, and you needn't complain if the head gets the worst of the encounter. Did President Young invite you to Salt Lake City? Did I? Did any of the saints? Do any of us want you here? Have you any rights here? Understand, then, that you have brought this thing upon yourself. You have chosen to be insolent and defiant to live in open and avowed hostility to the saints and their institutions. And if you are at last getting what you de-serve, just thank yourself for it."
"Well, this is plain English, if not very good rea-soning," commented Dr. Burton, controlling his varied emotions. "But do you mean to tell me that you intend to keep me here as a prisoner?"
"For the present—yes. But you are here for your good, I suppose you know, and not for my pleasure."
"For my good?" exclaimed the astonished Doctor.
"Certainly. You are here, in the first place, to prevent you from becoming a fugitive in the mountains, where you would inevitably be cut off within twenty-four hours by our misguided Lamanite brethren. As you well know, or at least ought to know, not one Gentile in ten who flies from Salt Lake City, in the isolated manner you have contemplated, ever succeeds in reaching a place of safety. They are nearly all killed in the mountains by the Indians, for the sake of the valuables they carry with them."
Dr. Burton knew that a large proportion of fleeing Gentiles did come to violent ends, but he had always ascribed these deaths to the Danites, rather than to the savages. He did not care to debate the subject, however, and so remained silent.
"And so this imprisonment is designed, in the first place, to save your valuable life," resumed Coulter. "It is also designed to afford you a good season of reflection. A week or two of earnest thought will do you much good. In this time, your daughter will have married Elder True—"
"Ah! I begin to understand this matter," breathed Dr. Burton.
"In this time, too, your young Gentile friend, Harry Osburn, will have returned to his Eastern home. You yourself will have obtained many new ideas. In a word, you will have a chance to consider what you have to gain and what you have to lose by your proposed flight from Utah."
"I do not care to consider any of those ques-tions," declared Dr. Burton indignantly. "All I ask is my freedom! My wife and daughter will soon be anxious about me. For their sakes, as well as my own, Bishop Coulter, let me make an appeal to your better nature. Give over this cruel plot at its present stage, and allow me to return to my family. Do this, and I will not only keep the matter a secret, but will forgive you.”
"And pay me handsomely besides, I sup-pose?" sneered the Bishop. "Unfortunately you haven't any money."
"You are mistaken." rejoined the Doctor. "We have a plenty— for any proper purpose." "Where is it?"
The Doctor did not reply, but his manner was equivalent to an invitation to the Bishop to mind his own business.
"I suppose I know what you refer to," said Coulter. "You have lately sold your store on Main street considerably under its value, but you have none the less sold it. You have also sold a number of mortgages, the fruits of your industry, at a considerable discount. You have just put a large mortgage upon your house. You have also converted a good share of your house-hold effects into money. In short, you have turned three-fourths of your property in Utah into money, within the last two weeks, and since you made up your mind to leave us. Am I not right ?"
The countenance of Dr. Burton showed that the Bishop was entirely correct, but his astonish-ment was too great for him to say so.
"The money thus obtained has been paid to you largely in silver coin," resumed Coulter, “and its bulk is consequently very heavy. Shall I tell you what you have done with it? You have intrusted it to your friend Mountain Jack, and he has buried it in a ravine near his house, in the Wahsatch mountains."
A cry of astonishment escaped the physician. "But the money is quite safe," proceeded the Bishop, with a grim smile of satisfaction. "Not caring to leave it in such an exposed situation, I have had it dug up, and the whole amount—twenty-three thousand four hundred dollars—is now in my coffers."
The physician looked bewildered.
"And if you should wonder at my action in the matter." said Coulter, "permit me to explain that I furnished the money to Mr. Thatcher for the purchase of your store, to Mr. Moseley for the purchase of your several mortgages, and to Mr. Pollock for the mortgage you have given him upon your house. All these men have-dealt: with you simply as my agents, and all the papers you have given them are now in my possession, as is the money they have paid you!"
"Then we are penniless— beggars!" the Doc-tor exclaimed bitterly. "You have both our property and the money we received for it!"
"Certainly I have it— as a sort of natural trus-tee for you," acknowledged Coulter complacent-ly. "The fact is, I do not have as much faith in Mountain Jack as you do, and I was afraid he might betray your confidence. I feared, too, that the Indian's I have referred to might get some trace of the money."
Dr. Burton was so astounded by these declara-tions that he hardly knew what to say. The Bishop resumed: "From what I have said. Doctor Burton, you will see that I have had my eyes upon you for some days past— from the day, in fact, when you first proposed to Mrs. Burton to fly from Utah!"
"What day was that?" asked the Doctor, find-ing his voice at last.
"It was two weeks ago yesterday."
The physician looked at his companion with a sort of internal shudder.
"You are right," he acknowledged.
"Yes, it was two weeks ago yesterday," re-peated the Bishop, with an air of quiet satisfac- tion. "Would you like to know the hour of the day ?" and he again referred to his little book. "It was four o'clock in the afternoon. It was just after you had had a somewhat stormy scene with Brother True, who had repeatedly asked you for the hand of your daughter. Would you like to know where you were seated when this proposal of flight was made to your wife? You were seated on your back porch, and the conversation was prolonged until you received a professional call from one of Brother Moseley's daughters!"
"My God!" groaned Doctor Burton. "What spies you must have in your service! And this is a sample of the watch that has been kept upon me and my family for two weeks past ?" "It is," replied the Bishop. "Every step you have taken, everything you have sold, every conversation you have had with your wife, and with your daughter, and even your visits, both professional and non-professional, are all re-corded in this little book, from day to day, with even greater completeness, no doubt, than they are recorded in your memory!" "Who can have thus played the spy upon us ?" murmured the physician. " Pressly?" Pressly had for some months been the servant of the family, until within a few days past. The Bishop smiled. " I do not mind telling you," he remarked, "that Pressly has not given me a single item of information concerning you since he has been in your family. Another thing, you could not possibly even guess who the spy is. That a good watch has been kept upon you, however, during the time mentioned, you may know from the fact that here are the duplicates of every key in your house! I may even add that Elder True has a similar supply of them!”
As he finished speaking, he drew from his pocket and held up to the gaze of the physician a bunch of keys of different sizes, some eight or ten in number. The excitement with which the Doctor gazed upon these evidences of the surveillance to which he had been subjected can be imagined.
"Ah! I understand it all now!" he exclaimed. "Those mysterious noises I heard in the house repeatedly are now explained !"
"Yes, they are!" declared Coulter, as a glow of professional pride mantled his cheeks. " The eyes of the spy of the Latter-day Church are everywhere, both by night and by day! He has looked at you as you sat at table at noon- day, and has stood by your bedside as you slept at midnight! He has entered and left your house at his pleasure, and been the unbidden guest of your family—seeing and hearing everything, but being neither seen nor heard! The very letters written by Winnie to her lover, in the solitude of her chamber, have been copied for my edifi-cation, when they happened to be left on her table over night, and every charge you have made against your patients for months past, Doctor Burton, has been copied from your books! Such are the powers of the Latter-day Church- seeing all, knowing all, daring all— and yet you would defy us!"
A wondering horror held the physician speech-less.
"So much, Doctor Burton, for the general principles of our surveillance," said Coulter, with a mocking, heartless jubilance. "I will now come to the latest particulars— to those I have not yet placed upon record. I will tell you what has been said and done this evening!"
The physician could only look his surprise and expectancy, and Coulter continued:
"You did not fully decide until to-night, it seems, in regard to your proposed flight. You even permitted Miss Winnie to retire to her bed in ignorance of your project. But just before midnight, you looked out into the street, assured yourself that no one was stirring, and decided to fly immediately. You accordingly saddled your horses, while Mrs. Burton packed up a few trifles, and then you both went up to Winnie's room. After awakening the girl and having a talk with her, you were all about to leave the house and the city, when Krebbling appeared and demanded your services—with what result is now apparent. And ‘here ends the first lesson.'"
As he finished speaking, and before the as-tounded physician could find his voice, the Bishop again touched the little bell on his table, with the same result as before, and his three armed men appeared on the threshold. "The prisoner is ready." he announced to them. "Away with him."
[ TO BE CONTINUED.]