After reaching Salt Lake, I looked down, from the window of a fashionable and exclusive hotel, in the heart of the beautiful city, upon Salt Lake's shame,--down upon dens of vice and iniquity that would put to shame many cities who boast of no moral standing whatever. I found the boy's report was true. The city was filled with men idle after the summer and autumn work, which the early coming winter and sudden cold weather had closed down. I drifted around among these idle men and talked to a great many. I found a vast number temporarily homeless, and out of money, suffering. Why was it? Industry seemed to be at its height, a great deal of building was going on; in fact, there seemed to be work of every sort for everyone. The reason was very evident. Employment could not be obtained at any of the employment offices without money. It was the universal statement among the homeless penniless men that not one employer would stake a man to live until pay day. In the evening I put on my worker's outfit, and set out to look for a free bath and bed. I asked the first officer I met where the public bath house was, as I was "broke." He looked at me in astonishment, and then replied, "I'll tell you, Salt Lake is a little shy on free baths just now. You might go down to the Jordan River, but it's pretty cold this time of the year." Then I began to look for a bed, and asked another policeman where the City Lodging House was, as I was in need of shelter. He raised his hand and pointed through the alley to a bright light, the City Jail. And so in this city, amidst the "Latter-Day Saints," men are compelled to lose their self-respect, and seek shelter in a vermin-infested city jail, or else become a common "Moocher." I did become a mendicant and went to the Y. M. C. A., but they could do nothing for me. I was about to enter the Salvation Army, when the lights went out and the place closed for the night. I then joined a group of young fellows (who, by the way, had also come from the Grand Junction fruit district), and I asked them, "Boys, if you are busted, where are you going to sleep?" They answered, "In a 'side-door Pullman' in the railroad yards." Inviting myself, I said, "I am with you." These young men were all strong, healthy fellows, except one who was slight and delicate, whose large eyes seemed to hold a strange, intense light. There was the red glow of fever in his cheeks and when he coughed I caught a glimpse of a crimson stain. One of his pals was thoughtful of him that night. He had a little money and he slipped it to the boy, who was sheltered from the first penetrating cold of the early winter for one night at least, and had a warm supper, bed, and breakfast.