tirred within him. Would Marion go first to her home?
Involuntarily he changed his course so that it would bring him to the
clearing. He assured himself that it would do no harm, that he still
would take no chances.

He came out in the strip of dense forest between the clearing and St.
James, worming his way cautiously through the underbrush until he could
look out into the opening. A single glance and he drew back in
astonishment. He looked again, and his face turned suddenly white, and
an almost inaudible cry fell from his lips. There was no longer a cabin
in the clearing! Where it had been there was gathered a crowd of men and
boys. Above their heads he saw a thin film of smoke and he knew what had
happened. Marion's home had burned! But what was the crowd doing? It
hung close in about the smoldering ruins as if every person in it were
striving to reach a common center. Surely a mere fire would not gather
and hold a throng like this.

Nathaniel rose to his feet and thrust his head and shoulders from his
hiding-place. He heard a loud shout near him and drew back quickly as a
boy rushed madly across the opening toward the crowd, crying out at the
top of his voice. He had come out of the path that led to St. James. No
sooner had he reached the group about the burned cabin than there came a
change that added to Nathaniel's bewilderment. He heard loud voices, the
excited shouting of men and the shrill cries of boys, and the crowd
suddenly began to move, thinning itself out until it was racing in a
black stream toward the Mormon city. In his excitement Nathaniel hurried
toward the path. From the concealment of a clump of bushes he watched
the people as they rushed past him a dozen paces away. Behind all the
others there came a figure that drew a sharp cry from him as he leaped
from his hiding-place. It was Obadiah Price.

"Obadiah!" he called. "Obadiah Price!"

The old man turned. His face was livid. He was chattering to himself,
and he chattered still as he ran up to Nathaniel. He betrayed no
surprise at seeing him, and yet there was the insane grip of steel in
the two hands that clutched fiercely at Nathaniel's.

"You have come in time, Nat!" he panted joyfully. "You have come in
time! Hurry--hurry--hurry--"

He ran back into the clearing, with Nathaniel close at his side, and
pointed to the smoking ruins of the cabin among the lilacs.

"They were killed last night!" he cried shrilly. "Somebody murdered
them--and