ge hurled itself from Nathaniel's throat.

"Stop, you hell-hound!" he cried threateningly. "Stop!"

He shrieked the words again and again, maddened beyond control, and the
Mormon king, whose self-possession was more that of devil than man,
still held the struggling girl in his arms as he turned his head toward
the voice and saw Nathaniel's long arm and knotted fist threatening him
through the hole in the wall. Then Neil's name in a piercing scream
resounded through the dungeon corridor and in response to it the man
under Nathaniel straightened himself so quickly that his companion fell
back to the floor.

"Great God! what is the matter, Nat? Quick! let me up!"

Nathaniel staggered to his feet, the breath half gone out of his body,
and in another instant Neil was at the opening. The great room into
which he looked was empty.

"What was it?" he cried, leaping down. "What were they doing with
Winnsome?"

"It was the king," said Nathaniel, struggling to master himself. "The
king put his arms around Winnsome and--she struck him!"

"That was all?"

"He kissed her as she fought--and I yelled."

"She struck him!" Neil cried. "God bless little Winnsome, Nat! and--God
bless her!"

Neil's breath came fast as he caught the other's hand.

"I'd give my life if I could help you--and Marion!"

"We'll give them together," said Nathaniel coolly, turning down the
corridor. "Here's our chance. They'll come through that door to relock
us in our cell. Shall we die fighting?"

He was groping about in the mud of the floor for some object.

"If we had a couple of stones--"

"It would be madness--worse than madness!" interposed Neil, steadying
himself. "There will be a dozen rifles at that door when they open it.
We must return to the cell. It is worth dying a harder death to hear
from Marion and Winnsome. And we will hear from them before night!"

They retreated into the dungeon. A few minutes later the door opened
cautiously at the head of the corridor. A light blazed through the
blackness and after an interval of silence the jailer made his
appearance in front of the cell, a pistol in his hand.

"Don't be afraid, Jeekum," said Neil reassuringly. "You forgot the door
and we've been having a little fun with the jury. That's all!"

The nervous whiteness left Jeekum's face at this cheerful report and he
was about to close the door when Nathaniel exhibited a handful of gold
pieces in the candle-light and frantically beckoned