"Swear it, R. H. Tranyon! Swear it by Joseph Smith, the prophet of the Lord!" cries Kruger, in his fanaticism prescribing an oath that is very easy for Travenion to take.
"I do," he answers, "by Joseph Smith, the prophet of the Lord!"
"Then I believe ye. No one could take that affidavit and lie!" says Lot, devoutly.
A second after, he goes on suddenly and suspiciously: "But it is reported, among the Saints in the city, you're getting lukewarm in the faith, R. H."
"And you, Lot—what did you say?" asks Travenion anxiously.
"I said it was a confounded lie! That there wa'n't a truer Mormon than R. H. Tranyon on the 'arth! Tell me so yerself;" and the voice of the man becomes pleading as he continues: "We have been pards so long I wouldn't like to cut ye off."
"I swear it!" gasps Ralph. "I'm a true Mormon!" For now he is sure that the man appointed to be his destroying angel stands before him.
"You can prove it!"
"How?"
"You've a little lamb down here——"