PART II. The Country of the Saints.
3. CHAPTER III. JOHN FERRIER TALKS WITH THE PROPHET.
A sob and a squeeze of his hand was her only answer.
"No; of course not. I shouldn't care to hear you say you
did. He's a likely lad, and he's a Christian, which is more
than these folk here, in spite o' all their praying and
preaching. There's a party starting for Nevada to-morrow,
and I'll manage to send him a message letting him know the
hole we are in. If I know anything o' that young man, he'll
be back here with a speed that would whip electro-telegraphs."
Lucy laughed through her tears at her father's description.
"When he comes, he will advise us for the best. But it is
for you that I am frightened, dear. One hears -- one hears
such dreadful stories about those who oppose the Prophet:
something terrible always happens to them."
"But we haven't opposed him yet," her father answered.
"It will be time to look out for squalls when we do.
We have a clear month before us; at the end of that,
I guess we had best shin out of Utah."
"That's about the size of it."
"But the farm?"
"We will raise as much as we can in money, and let the rest go.
To tell the truth, Lucy, it isn't the first time I have
thought of doing it. I don't care about knuckling under to
any man, as these folk do to their darned prophet. I'm a
free-born American, and it's all new to me. Guess I'm too
old to learn. If he comes browsing about this farm, he might
chance to run up against a charge of buckshot travelling in
the opposite direction."
"But they won't let us leave," his daughter objected.