Mower County transcript., 1907-06-19

Su0 WAS 6I1cVcu ny CuO uuLuU0T VI
times he fell asleep when she read
from the Book of Mormon. The times
were many because, though she knew
lit not, he had come to be, in effect,
to the little bent man be-
low, who was now living out his days
in quiet desperation, and his nights
In fear of something behind him.
Some nights Follett would have un-
broken rest; but oftener he was awak-
!sned by the others grip on his arm.
Then he would get up, put fresh logs
on the fire or light candle and talk
with the haunted man until he became
quiet again. ss7,*.,.
He knew a few things definitely:
that Moroni, last of the Nephites, had
hidden up unto the Lord the golden
plates in the hill of Cumorah; and
that the girl who taught him was in
some mysterious way the embodiment
of all the wonderful things he had
ever thought he wanted, of all the
strange beauties he had crudely pic
tured in lonely days along the trail.
Here was something he had supposed
could come true only in a different
world, the kind of world there was in
the first book he had ever read, where
there had seemed to be no one but
good fairies and children that were
uncommonly deserving. Yet he had
never been able to get clearly into his
mind the nature and precise office OF
the. Holy Ghost; nor had he ever be-
come certain how he could bring this
wonderful young woman in closer re-
lationship with himself. He, felt that
to put out his hand toward her-ex-
cept at certain great moments when
he could help her over rough places
and feel her golden weight upon his
arm-would be to startle her, and then
all at once he would awaken from
dream to find her gone. He thought
he would feel very badly then, for
probably he would never be able to
get back into the same dream again.
So he was cautious, resolving to make
the thing last until it came true OF
itself.
Once when they followed the stream
down, in the late afternoon, he had
mused himself so full OF the wonder
of her that he almost forgot his eau.
ton in an amiable impulse to let her
share in his feelings.
"You know" he began, you're like
as if 1 had been trying to think of a
word l. wanted to saY-some fine. bic
word, fancy one-but l couldn't
think of it. You know how you can't
think of the one you want sometimes,
only nothing else will do in place of
it, and then all at once, when you quit
trying to think, it flashes over you.
You're like that. I never could think
of you, but I just had to because I
couldn't get along without it, and then
when I didn't expect it you just hap
pened along-the word came along
and said itself"
Without speaking she had run
ahead to pick the white and blue col
umbines and pink roses. And he,
alarmed at his boldness, fearing she
would now be afraid of him, went
forward with the deep purpose of
showing her a light, careless mood,
to convince her that he had meant
nothing much.
The little bent man at the house
would look at them with sort of
helplessness when they came in, some
times even forgetting the smile he
was wont to hide his hurts. He was
impressed anew each time he saw
them with the furnishing power Of
such vengeance as was left to the
Lord. He could see more than either
of the pair before him. The little
iwhite-haired boy who had fought him
with tooth and nail so long ago, to
be not taken from Prudence, had now
come back with the might of man,
even the might of lover, to take her
from him when she had become all
of his life. He could think of no
sharper revenge upon himself or his
people. For this cowboy was the
spirit incarnate of the oncoming east,
thorned on by the Lord to avenge
his churGh's crime. r.
Then in the night would come the
terrors of the dark, the curses and
groans of that always-dying t1Ssg be-
hind him. And always now he would
see the hand with the. silver bracelet
at the wrist, Haunting in his face
the shivering strands of gold with
the crimson patch at the end. Yet
even this, because he could see it,
was less fearful than the thing he
could not see, the thing that craWled
or lurched relentlessly behind him,
with the snoring sound in it's throat,
the smell Of warm blood and the
horrible dripping of it, whose breath
he could feel on his neck and whose
nerveless hands sometimes fumbled
weakly at his shoulder, as it strove
to come in front of him.
He sat sleepless in his chair with
candles burning for three nights when
!F'ollett, late in August, went of to
meet messenger from one of his
fathers wagon trains which, he said,
was on its way north. Fearful he was
the meaning Of his presence, he was
inexpressibly glad when the Gentle
returned to save him from the terrors