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.
We will briefly state the plot of this story, as far as it has been published, so that new readers of the Ledger can understand what follows without diffi-culty. The heroine is Winnie Burton, daughter of Dr. Burton of Salt Lake City. She is betrothed to Harry Osburn; but a Mormon Elder, named Hyson True, is resolved to have her for his seventh wife. To accomplish this, he plans to have Harry Osburn, who is on his way to Salt Lake, waylaid by the Danites, or "Avengers," and murdered. They nearly accom-plish their purpose; but Harry receiving unexpected aid from the little daughter of a dweller in the moun-tains, known as Mountain Jack, escapes death, but is subsequently entrapped by his foes and taken prisoner. Dr. Burton prepares to flee, at midnight, with his wife and daughter, from Salt Lake; but just as they are ready to go, the doctor and his wife are made pris-oners by Elder Hyson True, who then enters Dr. Bur-ton's house, where Winnie, at the dead of night, is anxiously awaiting the appearance of her parents. What occurred there, is narrated in the chapters which follow.] CHAPTER V.
WINNIE AND THE ELDER.
Do I not in plainest truth
Tell you—I do not, nor I cannot love you?
SHAKESPEARE.
The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.
POPE.
The appearance of the Elder of the Mormon Church, who had intruded upon Winnie Burton in the manner related, was strikingly sinister.
He was about sixty years of age, tall and spare, and with a countenance so long and sharp that it gave him a look of gauntness. His eyes were small and restless, yet keen as a ferret's, and were set under a low, narrow and retreating forehead. His cheeks, bare to the jaw-bone, were hideously seamed and scarred, showing that he had not always been a disciple of peace. His mouth was large, and his thin lips wore a smile made up of cunning, selfishness and cruel-ty. A short, stubby beard fringed the lower edge of his face, bristling under his chin, and he wore his long hair drawn straight back from his fore-head without any parting, and plastered into greasy smoothness with thick and unctuous oils.
As to the mind of Elder True, it is enough to say that it was worthy of his body. The terror of Winnie, as she confronted this strange wooer at that lonely hour of the night, and under all the harrowing circumstances of her situation, can be best imagined.
"So it is you, Hyson True?" she finally ex-claimed, when her eyes had become accustomed to the light of his dark lantern.
"Yes, it's me, of course," he answered, plac-ing his lantern on a table and helping himself to a chair.
"Who else could it be? There's no one so much interested in you as I am. It's me, therefore, yer little honeysuckle, you may be sartain!"
"And a fine figure you cut, thus creeping into a neighbor's house, at this hour of the night, with a dark lantern, like a burglar or assassin!" exclaimed Winnie scornfully.
"It's all for love, dear," protested the infatu-ated Elder deprecatingly. "For love a man'll do anything!”
And you a pillar of the Mormon church! a counsellor of Brigham Young!" added Winnie. "How dare you act in this manner? Your con-duct is infamous! atrocious!
"I can't help it," returned the Elder, still deprecatingly, but with an air of dogged resolu-tion on his features. "Blame me, if you will, but I love you to distraction, as I've ag'in and ag'in told yer pa and yer ma, and—"
"And as my parents have again and again told you," interrupted Winnie, "I scorn your love, and spit upon it! Oh, how I hate and despise you! I didn't know that I could feel so wicked toward any human being. Thank Heaven! Harry will soon be here, and pitch you into the Jordan!"
The scorn with which these words were ac-companied, no less than the words themselves, gave such a terrible shock to the old Elder that he remained speechless a full minute. Then his face became flushed and pale by turns with a violent rage.
"Yer Harry!" he ejaculated. "Yer Harry'll never come to Salt Lake City. That is made sure of, I can tell ye!" Winnie was startled with the fierce emphasis with which these words were spoken.
"He will be here, and within a week," she declared, calling all her courage to her aid; "and I shall become Harry's wife as soon as he arrives in this city!"
The eyes of Elder True flamed up malignantly at this assurance. "Yer Harry'll never arrive in this city!" he declared emphatically. " Since you're so fool-ish and obstinit, and put on sich queenly airs, I don't mind tellin' you that he has accepted a commission, and is now in Washington."
"It is false!" cried Winnie.
"It's true, as the event'll prove," declared the Elder, with the jubilance of a demon.
"Yer parents—"
Winnie shuddered at the word. The terrible afflictions which had preceded the affliction of the Elder's presence all came back to her.
"True, my parents," she cried.
"Where are they? What have you done with them?"
"I, Winnie?"
"Yes, you! for I know that you are in some way connected with father's strange absence, and with mother's!"
The villainous old Mormon regarded her keenly a moment, and then said:
"I'll be frank with you, my little honey-suckle, and give you all the information you ask for—or at least, all in my power—if you’ll only be frank with me, and give me a direct answer to a few questions. To begin with, were not you and yer parents intending to put out of Salt Lake City to-night?"
The girl was silent. "Speak, speak," enjoined the Elder, with a mocking smile. "Let me have an answer to my question."
"I will not answer you!"
"You won't?"
"No; I won't. It's none of your business what my parents and I were intending to do!"
"All right," returned True, as his mocking smile deepened. "Fortunitly I'm not obleeged to come to you for information. I'm already aware that you and yer parents was about to fly from Salt Lake City to-night, and in proof of the fact, I‘ll add that yer horses are now standin' saddled jest back of the house, and that here are the bundles you had packed to take with ye."
He laid his hand upon the girl's morocco trav-elling-bag, and upon the bundles prepared for their flight by Dr. and Mrs. Burton.
Winnie's paleness deepened for a moment, but she soon spoke again with increased spirit and courage.
"Since you know so much," she said, "you must know what has happened to my father and mother?"
"I know this much," he rejoined, "that the Doctor and yer mother will not return to this house to-night, and that you must now look to me for protection. Permit me to say that your preferences are not of the least consequence, in the actual state of affairs, and that they never will be, until you learn that I am the master of yer destiny!"
The anger of Winnie at this insulting violence was even greater than her astonishment.
"Will you leave me?" she asked. "I am heartily tired of your presence. Will you take yourself off, and at once?"
"No, I won't take myself off," answered True, every instant growing more and more coarsely violent and insolent. "I have come here to give you that protection, in the absence of yer parents, which my future wife ought to have, and I shall stay here till mornin'!" Winnie became deathly pale.
"No, you won't," she responded.
"There's just one way in which you can rid yourself of me, and only one," continued the Elder. "I know that yer word is sacred, and that you’ll perform what you promise. Promise me, then, that you'll become my wife in the course of to- morrer or next day, and I will im-mediately take my departure. And not only will I take my leave, but I will see that yer parents are restored to you within an hour, and that neither you nor they shall ever have the least annoyance from me or any other Latter-day saint hereafter!"
The face of the poor girl was very pale, and she was terribly excited and anxious, but she was none the less resolute
"I will never promise to be your wife!" she declared firmly. "I will die first!"
"Think again!" enjoined True, with a mean-ing jesture. "Promise!"
"I never will! so help me heaven!"
"Then I will stay," cried the Elder. "And I'll at once take possession!"
He hurried to the front door, and locked it, placing the key in his pocket, and then did like- wise by the door leading to the yard in the rear of the house.
"And not only will I stay here," he affirmed, returning to the centre of the sitting- room, and confronting, with blazing eyes, the poor cap- tive, who had resumed her seat—"not only will I stay here, but I will take good care that you do not see your parents again so long as you live! They are in my power, even as you are in my power, and they shall suffer as long and as ter- ribly as—"
The girl interrupted him with a gesture full of horror and loathing, as she sprang excitedly to her feet.
"No more of this, Hyson True," she com-manded, with a strange firmness. "I will not remain here another minute! Your very pres-ence is pollution! Give me the key of the door. Stand out of my way!"
"By heavens! she is a picture of beauty!" cried the Elder, seizing his lantern, and holding it nearer to her, the better to observe her wild, glowing loveliness, as revealed at that moment.
"Oh! I will never lose sight of you, my charm-in' honeysuckle! I—"
With a quick, energetic blow from her clenched hand, Winnie sent the lantern out of his hand and across the room to the wall, where it was extinguished, and then she bounded toward the staircase leading to her chamber.
Too late, however.
True caught her at the foot of the staircase, and pinioned her arms to her side.
"Not so fast, my glory! my beauty!" he ejacu-lated. "I’m master here; haw! haw!" and he laughed like a demon.
On finding herself thus assailed, the first im-pulse of Winnie was to scream loudly for help.
She did not do so, however, for with the im-pulse to scream came the reflection that there were no Gentiles residing in the same block with her. Any call for help, therefore, would be re- sponded to, if at all, only by a crowd of Mor-mons, who would inevitably accept whatever ex-planations the old Elder might be pleased to offer.
And hence any call of the kind would only bring her fresh annoyances, without in the least ridding her of the old Mormon's persecutions.
Winnie was too brave, clear-headed and cool not to see all this at a glance. "
Let go of me, Hyson True," she commanded sternly. "Let go instantly, or my father will kill you at sight!" The old sinner laughed again, more sneeringly than before.
"Yer father has trouble enough of his own on hand," he responded. "I reckon an order from you, as small and helpless as you are, is worth any dozen that could be given by Doctor William Burton at this particular moment."
"Will you release me?" cried Winnie, yet more imperatively.
"Of course—of course," answered True, suit-ing the action to the word. "I've not the least objection in the world to releasin' you, now that I've got my back against the stairway door, and so cut off yer flight!"
"I was only going to my room."
The villain uttered a sneering ejaculation.
"And from yer room you would only have descended into the yard, I suppose, through the nearest window, and from the yard you'd have only gone to the street, and from the street to the depths of the Wahsatch mountains !"
"I had no intention of leaving the house," protested Winnie. "I shall remain in charge here, of course, until the return of my father. I should remain here, if for no other reason than to receive whatever message he may send me."
"Sho!" ejaculated True. "I thought you meant to give me the slip. Since you didn't, I must ask you to excuse my roughness. Light a lamp, or find mine for me, and we'll continner our visit."
"I don't want any continuation of it," de-clared Winnie energetically. "You've stayed too long already. I want you to go!"
"Sorry to disoblige a lady," muttered True, with dogged resolution; "but I've no intention of losin' sight of you, my little honeysuckle, for some weeks to come!"
"You will lose sight of me—and soon!" re-turned Winnie.
"And if Harry gets hold of you, you’ll wish you'd never seen me!
"She had now found and lighted a candle, and her next measure was to find the Elder's dark lantern and restore it to him. He lighted it, and placed it on the table.
"There," he then muttered, resuming the chair he had previously occupied, "things are in workin' order again. Sit down, Winnie. You may as well make the best of everything. I told you I should stay here until mornin'; as yer pro- tector, you know?"
"I don't want your protection! I don't want you to stay here till morning—nor a single min-ute longer!"
"Well. I don't want to stay," returned the Elder, "nor do I have the least intention of stay-in'. I didn't mean exactly what I told you. I was simply tryin' to scare you into sayin' that you would marry me."
"Oh, you will go, then?" cried Winnie, as her whole face became radiant with joy and relief. “Yes, I will go. In fact, I haven't had the least intention of remainin' here until mornin'. To tell the truth," and he glanced at his watch, "I have been here much longer than I intended to stay when I came."
"And you will go now? right away?" mur-mured Winnie joyfully.
"Yes, right away, as soon as you please," re-plied True. "But you will have to go with me!"
The joy of Winnie perished as quickly as it had arisen. " The fact is," proceeded True, taking pleasure in her pain, "my object in comin' here was to take you to a secure place that has been pro-vided for yer reception, until such time as you choose to marry me!"
"To a secure place? Where?" demanded Winnie, with ineffable scorn and loathing.
"Oh, you'll know soon enough," was the answer.
"All you have to do is to go quietly with me. Fortunitly yer father has three horses un-der saddle in the yard. You are dressed too, even to yer bonnet, and have yer little traps packed up in this bag, all ready for our instant departure."
"But I won't go with you!"
"Certainly you will! You can't help yourself. I will gag you with a handkerchief, and tie you hand and foot, and carry you off like a sack of meal on the back of one of the horses, if neces-sary."
At this coarse threat, the girl's face became as white as marble.
"Do you mean this, Hyson True?" she asked.
"I mean it, gal," he answered, "jest as much as I mean to live until to-morrer. Make up yer mind to it. You'll have to go with-me, either livin' or dead."
Winnie looked at him for a moment fixedly, as if unable to realize his dastardly brutality.
"Well, Hyson True," she then said, "I sup-posed until to-night that you could lay some claim to being a gentleman. I never would have expected to find under your fair reputation such a coarse and vulgar ruffian. A fine pillar you are of the Mormon church, and a fine com-panion for Brigham!"
The Elder reddened to his temples, and then laughed discordantly.
"You say so because you've happened to get the wrong side of me," he retorted. "Rub a cat's fur the wrong way, you know, and you 'll feel the claws. But come! Let's be off!"
He arose with a bustling air, took up her bag and his dark lantern, and waited for her attend-ance, looking significantly at her.
"Hark!" suddenly enjoined Winnie, catching her breath excitedly. "I hear footsteps!"
"Nonsense!" returned True. "This trick to gain time won't help you! Come along in-stantly!" "But I do hear footsteps," declared the girl, her face brightening. "Some one is coming!"
The Elder had only to listen a moment to as-sure himself of the fact. The heavy footsteps of a man were heard coming along the street to-ward the house, with a remarkably firm tread. A moment later the new- comer was heard upon the front steps, and then came a loud knock on the door. The whole air and attitude of Winnie changed on the instant.
"It's father!" she exclaimed.
"No, it isn't," rejoined True. "Yer pa won’t slip through his net so easily. Would yer pa walk in that way? Would he knock before tryin' the door? This man is a friend of mine-one of the few who knew of my proposed visit to you. Most likely it's Bishop Coulter. Pos-sibly—But no! yer pa can't have made his es-cape. It's one of my friends, and I must hasten to let him come in." Light in hand, the Elder hurried to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open.
CHAPTER VI.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
Such is the use and noble end of friendship,
To bear a part in every storm of fate,
And, by dividing, make the lighter weight.
HIGGONS.
As Elder True thus opened the door of Dr. Burton's house, he saw standing on the steps a tall, fine looking man, not far from forty years of age, well armed, and clad in the garb of a hunter, and having upon his countenance an air of serious concern.
"Good- evening, stranger," said this new-comer to the surprised and disappointed Elder, in a firm, full voice. "Does Dr. Burton live here?"
"He—he did live here—yes, he does," stam-mered True, recoiling.
"Then I am quite right," announced the new-comer, entering the little hall and closing the door behind him. "And thankful I am to have found the right house, in spite of the darkness," he added, in a tone expressive of the greatest relief.
The Elder continued his backward movement toward the sitting-room, without once removing his eyes from the visitor, and for several rea-sons. In the first place, he did not know who the new-comer was. In the second place, the stranger's stalwart form, eagle eyes, stout, shapely limbs and evident agility, all set off and illustrated by a formidable looking double-bar-relled rifle, were not pleasant objects for the Elder's contemplation, under the circumstances. And in the third and last place, a single glance at the honest, hearty countenance of the visitor was enough to tell the old Mormon that under no contingency could he possibly have any agreeable dealings with him. “You—you wished to see the Doctor, then?" demanded True, still recoiling. "
Sorry to say that he is jest now absent—"
Here the Elder was suddenly interrupted by an impatient blow from Winnie's elbow on that portion of his person which he was in the habit of calling his "bread- basket." "If you please, sir," said Winnie haughtily, "I will represent my father on this occasion, and spare you all trouble."
A second extension of her vigorous elbow re-moved the Elder completely from her path, so that she could advance to" meet the visitor, which she instantly did.
"I am the daughter of Dr. Burton," she an-nounced, with a bow. "You have brought some message from my father?"
"No, Miss."
"But your business in some way concerns me? Is it not so?"
The stranger looked at her attentively, and then still more attentively at the Elder, who moved uneasily under that keen scrutiny—as uneasily, in fact, as if he had received another thrust from Winnie's elbow.
"I—I hardly know what to say to you. Miss Burton," the stranger then replied. "I will venture to say, however, that I had an appoint-ment with your father—At the mention of this fact, Winnie interrupted the speaker with a warning gesture, and a quick flush of hope and relief overspread her features.
"If my father had an appointment with you," she exclaimed, "you are not a man to take sides with this old villain against me!"
The honest face of the visitor colored a little, and also expressed a feeling of pain, as he re-sponded:
"I am not a man to take sides with anybody against you!"
"In other words," added Winnie, "you are not a Mormon!"
"Oh, that's it—is it?" ejaculated the stranger, as his face brightened. "Certainly not—I am no more a Mormon than I am a Mahometan. In the matter of religion, that of the New Testa-ment is good enough for me. And in the mat-ter of wives, the good old rule of one wife suits me exactly, as does the wife I have secured un-der that doctrine."
There was something so hearty and good in the stranger's manner, as he made these declara-tions, that Winnie offered him her hand.
"I am glad to see you," she said. "In fact, your coming is most timely. But do not tell me your name now, nor your business. This old rascal," and she indicated the Elder, who was changing all sorts of colors—"this old rascal is not a friend of the family, nor could he possibly be yours, sir. In fact, he is an enemy, and it will be necessary, therefore, for us to keep your business from him." "Oh—ah—as to that," stammered True, fidget- ing about, "I should be sorry to be in the gen- tleman's way, Miss Burton, for even a moment. I can finish my interview with you some other time, I will accordingly take my leave. Good- evenin', Miss; good-evenin', stranger."
And with this he sidled nervously toward the door by which the visitor had entered.
"One moment, sir," enjoined Winnie. "You had better give me the key you took from the rear door."
"Oh, certainly—here it is," answered True, all bows and obsequiousness, as he handed it over. “Good-evenin.'"
He edged toward the main entrance still more nervously.
"A moment more, if you please," enjoined the girl, with a quiet but firm manners" This gen-tleman can hardly be said to have made your ac-quaintance. Permit me to tell him who you are, and what projects you are just now en-gaged in—"
"Some other time, please," interrupted the Mormon, as a wild look of apprehension ap-peared in his eyes and on his features. "I must go now. It's late already. Good-evenin'."
"But I cannot think of losing you so soon," said Winnie sarcastically, as she suddenly inter-posed her slight figure between him and the door. "You'll have to make the gentleman's acquaintance, whether you wish to or not."
"You—you can't mean to detain me, Miss Burton?" muttered True, becoming curiously pale and nervous.
"But I do mean that very thing. You won't take leave of us just at present," responded Winnie. "What is fair for one is fair for an-other, you know; and as you have lately turned a key upon me, sir, I will now turn one upon you!"
Saying this, she stepped to the front door and locked it, withdrawing the key, and retreated to her former position, confronting the Elder. The stranger had remarked this little scene with as much curiosity as surprise, and he now looked inquiringly from one to the other.
"What's the meaning of all this?" he asked. True made a threatening gesture, enjoining silence upon Winnie, but she did not heed it.
"It means that this man is an intruder", she explained. "He is a Mormon, and no less a per-sonage, in fact, than the well- known Elder True."
"I've heard of him," said the stranger.
"He caused my father and mother to be en-ticed away from the house, an hour or two since," resumed Winnie, "and then he came here, for about the twentieth time in ten days, to ask me to marry him. Getting a refusal, he threatened all sorts of vengeance, and finally assaulted me, saying that he would gag me, bind me hand and foot, and carry me away to some secure place he has provided for me!"
At this communication, the veins on the fore-head of the visitor stood out like whip-cords.
"This was his game, eh?" he muttered. "It was his purpose, was it, at the moment of my arrival, to carry you off?"
"No, it wasn't!" asserted True, now thor-oughly alarmed for his safety.
"Yes, it was!" affirmed Winnie. "The old villain would have sooner killed me than allowed me to escape!"
True realized that his situation was becoming critical. The eyes of the stranger seemed to de-vour him, and the attitude of the stranger was that of a lion about to spring upon his prey.
"The truth is," added Winnie, "this man has brought upon ray parents some dreadful fate—I know not what—and it was his intention, at the moment of your arrival, to bring a like fate upon me and upon the young gentleman to whom I am engaged to be married!"
"It isn't so," cried True. "The young lady's mistaken!"
"Silence!" enjoined the stranger. "If you contradict the young lady again, I'll send your teeth to look for your supper. Where are Doc-tor Burton and his wife?"
"I don't know," answered True, flushing more and more guiltily.
"He does know," affirmed Winnie. "He has as good as told me so repeatedly within the last; hour. And he came here to take me prisoner, in the full knowledge of their absence and where-abouts. You can read the truth to this effect on his features."
"Yes, I do read the whole truth there," de-clared the stranger. "You and your parents are the victims of a wicked plot. Miss Burton, on the part of this man. He must be called to account." "Have a care, sir." said True threateningly.
"I am not a man to be trifled with. I know you, sir—"
"Well, if you know me," interrupted the stranger, "you know that this blustering will not have the least weight with me."
"He came here to capture me," observed Winnie.
"How would it do to capture him?"
"The very thing exactly! He came here for wool, and we’ll accordingly shear him."
This colloquy completed the Elder's despera-tion.
"Help! help!" he suddenly cried, bounding to the door, against which he hurled himself furi-ously. "Fire! murder!"
He had scarcely uttered these cries when the stranger seized him by the throat and hair, re-ducing him to silence, and dragged him back to the sitting-room, hurling him to the floor. Then the visitor sprang astride of the prostrate body, pinioning the arms, and stuffed a handkerchief into the gasping mouth, fastening it there se-curely, and so preventing the Elder from utter-ing even a whisper.
"Not the least resistance now!" enjoined the victor.
There was a menace in that injunction that could not be mistaken. True at once became quiet.
"Bring me a rope of some kind, Miss Burton," added the victor. "We'll tie his hands behind him." This task was soon accomplished.
"Has he any friends in waiting, do you sup-pose?" then asked the stranger.
"I think not," replied Winnie. " Probably he hoped to arouse some of the neighbors by his shouting. They are all Mormons."
"I do not hear any stir in the streets," ob-served the stranger, after listening a few moments.
"I do not believe that his call has procured him assistance. It was not very loud, and the doors and windows are all closed."
The stranger soon arrived at this conclusion.
"Is there any retired corner in the house where we can put him, until we have come to an understanding with each other?" the victor then asked.
"The very place you want. This house, before father bought it, was occupied by a jewel-ler, who had fitted up a sort of strong-box in the cellar. Follow me."
She took the Elder's lantern and led the way down cellar, the stranger following with the prisoner, whom he shouldered as he would have shouldered a log.
"Here is a vault." she said, opening a door at one side of the cellar, "which is just the place for him."
The stranger nodded assent, after a single look into the vault, which was of solid masonry, with a stoutly ironed door. He accordingly thrust the helpless Elder into it, took away his arms, which consisted of a knife and revolver, closed and padlocked the door, and then fol-lowed Winnie back to the sitting-room.
"All is still quiet around us," he said, after listening again. "None of the neighbors heard those cries for help. At least, none of them made out what and where was the noise."
"Evidently not," returned Winnie." And so we are safe, "at least for the present."
The relief she experienced at this happy turn of affairs can be imagined.
Sinking into a chair, and inviting the stranger by a gesture to be seated, she drew one of those long respirations which indicate relief from a grave peril or care, and then fixed her gaze with renewed interest upon her companion.
"You came just in time, sir," she murmured. "You have rendered me a service for which I shall ever be grateful."
The stranger's face beamed at the assurance.
"And now to understand each other," added Winnie. "You said you had an appointment with my father. You are a Gentile and a friend—"
"I will begin my explanations by telling you who I am," the stranger hastened to say. "My name is Weber—Jack Weber. I am more com-monly known as Mountain Jack."
The visitor was indeed the father of the queer little sprite who had rescued Harry Osburn, Win- nie's lover, from a terrible danger in the moun-tains, as the reader will remember.
"Mountain Jack!" echoed Winnie joyfully. "Is it possible? We were all out to your place last Thursday. I have heard father speak of you often, Mr. Weber, and am aware what a good friend you have been and are being to us."
"Then you will not be surprised to hear of the appointment I had with your father," said Weber. "It was agreed that I should meet him, with your mother and yourself, at a certain turn of the Emigration Road, just outside of the city, a little past midnight. As you did not come, I guessed that something was wrong, and made up my mind to come and see what it was. And now what is the matter, Miss Burton? Where is your father?"
"I do not know where he is," replied Winnie. "We were all ready to go soon after twelve o'clock. Just as we were about to leave the house, a stranger made his appearance, saying that a woman had suddenly been taken ill, two or three blocks away, and demanding father's services."
"Ah, that was a ruse," said Mountain Jack excitedly. "The Doctor is entrapped!"
"We suspected there was something wrong," resumed Winnie. " But there was just a possi-bility that the call might be an honest one, and father accordingly decided to comply with the summons."
"It's just as well that he did," commented Weber. "If he had refused, the messenger would have notified his associates, and you would have all been seized within the hour. The plotters were prepared for a refusal, of course. But who is the sick woman, according to the messenger?" "Mrs. Bishon Coulter.
"Mrs. Coulter, eh? Well, she may be ill, and then, again, she may not. The matter will have to be investigated. But your father is undoubt-edly in trouble. How long has he been gone?"
"More than two hours!"
"Then he has been seized by some ruffians acting under the instructions of the Elder, of course!" "I fear so. He told mother and me on leav-ing us, that he would send us word, if the call upon his services were likely to detain him be-yond a few minutes."
"And he did not send?"
"No, sir. Mother and I waited and waited until he had been gone an hour and a half, and then she declared that she must go and look for him at the Bishop's. She went accordingly, after saying that she would not fail to be back in a few minutes."
"And that is the last you have seen of her?"
“Yes, sir." "Then she has fallen into the same trap that has closed upon your father. Depend upon it, they are both in sore trouble!"
"You cannot imagine how long the minutes were after mother's departure, nor what anx-ieties I experienced," continued Winnie. "At last when I was about to rush into the street. Elder True made his appearance, coming straight into the sitting-room without knocking, as if he were perfectly informed as to whom he would find there."
"He was posted, of course, said Weber. "His object in coming here at such a time, was to scare you into the acceptance of his offer of marriage. That failing, he proposed to carry you off to some prison."
"He said so in so many words." Mountain Jack reflected a moment.
"What sort of a man is this Bishop Coulter?" he then asked.
"Just such a man as True, from all I hear—a man with a fair reputation, but a consummate hypocrite, mean and vicious, and perfectly un-scrupulous."
"Then it is easy to see what is going on," com- mented Weber. "The Elder must have got an inkling of your proposed flight from Utah."
"I think so."
"He has accordingly seized your parents. He means to reach you through them—to leave you exposed to his persecutions—to make terms with you and with them—and at the very least to be revenged upon all of you."
"And to complicate matters," said Winnie, "the young gentleman to whom I have already referred—Harry Osburn— is now on his way here to marry me, and is probably at this time within a few days' journey of the city. These facts were communicated to True by my parents, who supposed that he would accept them as an in-surmountable barrier to his suit—"
Weber uttered a prolonged whistle, as he arose to his feet and began to pace agitatedly to and fro. "The case is indeed complicated," he de-clared, after another thoughtful pause. "Not only you and your parents, but this young stranger from the East—all of you are now the objects of a veritable hunt! The Dan-ites are certainly moving in the matter. I am sorry to have been drawn into a difficulty with them. During the past ten years, I have suffered many annoyances and inconveniences, in preference to provoking the hostility of these men, for I had my wife and children to think of. But now that war has come, Miss Burton, with-out our seeking it, we must take good care not to get the Worst of the encounter."
"But what shall we do, Mr. Weber?" asked Winnie anxiously.
"In the first place," answered Mountain Jack, "we must hang on to this old Elder, now that a stroke of good fortune has made him our pris-oner. He may be made useful, at no distant day, as a hostage for your parents."
"That's true. We must hold fast to him."
"In the second place, we must endeavor to learn forthwith what has become of your par-ents. Let's see. It's only about three blocks to the Bishop's?"
"That's all. You pass Taylor's and the school-house, and turn to the left at Bullock's corner, down toward the Seventh Ward—"
"I recall now just where the house is," inter-rupted Weber eagerly. "And I am sure that I can go there and back in fifteen or twenty min-utes. Would you be afraid to remain alone here during my absence?"
"Certainly not. I feel quite competent to protect myself with the arms you have taken from the Elder. I am a good shot with a re-volver."
"Would you prefer to take refuge with some Gentile neighbor?"
"Oh, it isn't, necessary."
"Wouldn't you like to go to the Bishop's with me?" The maiden reflected a moment.
"On the whole, I will remain here," she then decided.
"It is possible that some message might come from father and mother in our ab-sence. They might even return. Yes, I will stay here and guard the Elder. He can't get out of that vault. And the doors and windows will all be fastened, so that none of his asso-ciates can get in. I am not in the least afraid to remain alone here for so short a period."
"Then I will go to the Bishop's immediately," returned Weber. "You see that I have my rifle, and I also carry a revolver. You may be sure, therefore, that nothing will prevent me from returning within twenty minutes at the furthest. To make all sure, do not unlock the door until I have given three distinct double knocks—thus," and he rapped peculiarly upon the table beside him." Within twenty min-utes—you'd better look at your watch—I will be back from the Bishop's, and I hope to bring your parents with me, or at the least, good news of them."
With this assurance, he hastily took his de-parture, and Winnie locked herself in, looking at her watch.
"So late!" she murmured." Where can they be? What can have happened?" She took a few uneasy turns in the apartment. "But let me be hopeful now," she said to her-self, sinking into a chair. "Mr. Weber must surely make some good discovery. How brave and noble he is! How fortunate it is that he came here!"
Thus trying to look upon the bright side, she secured the revolver Weber had taken from True, and waited and listened.
How deep was the silence which now reigned around her!
Again and again, more than a dozen times, she looked at her watch, and as often did she sus-pend her breathing, so intently did she listen for the footsteps of her brave friend and pro-tector. "Fifteen minutes!" she at length ejaculated, in a voice shrill with excitement. "He has been gone fifteen minutes! He thought he'd be back in that time. He must be near!"
She continued to listen intently, holding her watch in her hand, and hardly lifting her eyes from it. And now, as minute after minute dragged away, a grave shadow crept into the pinched face and fixed eyes of the maiden, and grew wilder and deeper.
"Twenty minutes!" she finally ejaculated, in a whisper full of anguish. "he ought to be here! The time is up!"
She thought she heard footsteps in the street. It was only fancy. She thought she heard the Elder moving in his prison. Her strained hear-ing had deceived her. She thought she heard her mother's voice calling her name. But the silence around her remained unbroken.
How horrible had now become her waiting and listening!
"He must soon be here!" she thought. "He promised! And he is so brave and strong and true! He was prepared to give desperate bat-tle. He will not fail. Some little delay has taken place; he could not find the house readily in the darkness; but he is coming!"
And again she listened, with suspended respi-ration. And again listened in vain! It was several minutes—an age in seeming—before she stole another glance at her watch, and then she started violently, uttering a gasp-ing cry.
"Thirty minutes!" she faltered. Then the horrible silence reigned again. The poor girl seemed to have been turned into a statue. But, let us not count the minutes of her agony. At last—at last she struggled to her feet, with an appalled and terrified expression of countenance that was terrible to look upon.
"He has been gone an hour!” she murmured. "Why don't he come? Where, WHERE CAN HE BE?"
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
