ratitude his face
expressed. And Jane turned upon the rescuer and gripped his hands.
Her smiles and tears seemingly dazed him. Presently as something like
calmness returned, she went to Lassiter's weary horse.

"I will water him myself," she said, and she led the horse to a trough
under a huge old cottonwood. With nimble fingers she loosened the bridle
and removed the bit. The horse snorted and bent his head. The trough was
of solid stone, hollowed out, moss-covered and green and wet and cool,
and the clear brown water that fed it spouted and splashed from a wooden
pipe.

"He has brought you far to-day?"

"Yes, ma'am, a matter of over sixty miles, mebbe seventy."

"A long ride--a ride that--Ah, he is blind!"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Lassiter.

"What blinded him?"

"Some men once roped an' tied him, an' then held white-iron close to his
eyes."

"Oh! Men? You mean devils.... Were they your enemies--Mormons?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"To take revenge on a horse! Lassiter, the men of my creed are
unnaturally cruel. To my everlasting sorrow I confess it. They have been
driven, hated, scourged till their hearts have hardened. But we women
hope and pray for the time when our men will soften."

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am--that time will never come."

"Oh, it will!... Lassiter, do you think Mormon women wicked? Has your
hand been against them, too?"

"No. I believe Mormon women are the best and noblest, the most
long-sufferin', and the blindest, unhappiest women on earth."

"Ah!" She gave him a grave, thoughtful look. "Then you will break bread
with me?"

Lassiter had no ready response, and he uneasily shifted his weight
from one leg to another, and turned his sombrero round and round in his
hands. "Ma'am," he began, presently, "I reckon your kindness of heart
makes you overlook things. Perhaps I ain't well known hereabouts, but
back up North there's Mormons who'd rest uneasy in their graves at the
idea of me sittin' to table with you."

"I dare say. But--will you do it, anyway?" she asked.

"Mebbe you have a brother or relative who might drop in an' be offended,
an' I wouldn't want to--"

"I've not a relative in Utah that I know of. There's no one with a right
to question my actions." She turned smilingly to Venters. "You will come
in, Bern, and Lassiter will come in. We'll eat and be merry while we
may."

"I'm only wonderin' if Tull an' his men'll raise a storm down in the
village," said Lassiter, in his last w