Then, after another short conference with his fellows, the old Mormon announced that the business of the meeting was now concluded, and that his decision with regard to the disposal of the remaining prisoners would be announced at noon next day.
All were at once returned to their prison in the common hall, with the exception of the wretched slavers, who, to the number of nearly three hundred, were immediately led out to execution, and were shot, like mad dogs, in accordance with the unchanging decree of the Mormon Holy Three, whilst Zero, heavily ironed, was forthwith consigned to the condemned cell in the public building, knowing that he must, in a few hours, suffer the extreme agonies of the awful death by torture, which he had himself often and often inflicted upon his helpless and unresisting fellow-creatures.
Chapter Eighteen.
“A Friend in Need.”
That very night, when our friends were conversing together in the house of their prison, a guard appeared with a small note, which he handed to Kenyon, and signified that he was to await his answer.
At once tearing open the cover, the wonder-stricken detective read the simple message:—
“Follow the bearer.
“Weston Abbott (‘Noughts and Crosses’).”