"Possibly not," he moodily assented. "The devil is attentive; he is present in the stations, and on the trains; he will ride in those gilded palaces even to the Jordan, but he shall not cross. In the name of the Lord we shall face him. What good there shall come, shall abide; but the evil shall wither. Not," he added, "that we stand against the railroad. It is needed, and we have petitioned without being heard. We are strong but isolated, we have goods to sell, and the word of Brigham Young has gone forth that a railroad we must have. Against the harpies, the gamblers, the loose women and the lustful men and all the Gentile vanities we will stand upon our own feet by the help of Almighty God." At this juncture, when I had finished my platter of pork and beans and my second cup of coffee, a tall, double-jointed youth of about my age, carrying an ox goad in his hand, strolled to us as if attracted by the harangue. He was clad in the prevalent cowhide boots, linsey-woolsey pantaloons tucked in, red flannel shirt, and battered hat from which untrimmed flaxen hair fell down unevenly to his shoulder line. He wore at his belt butcher-knife and gun. By his hulk, his light blue eyes, albeit a trifle crossed, and the general lineaments of his stolid, square, high-cheeked countenance I conceived him to be a second but not improved edition of the Captain. A true raw-bone he was; and to me, as I casually met his gaze, looked to be obstinate, secretive and small minded. But who can explain those sudden antagonisms that spring up on first sight? "My son Daniel," the Captain introduced. "This stranger travels to Zion with us, Daniel, in the employ of Mr. Jenks." The youth had the grip of a vise, and seemed to enjoy emphasizing it while cunningly watching my face. "Haowdy?" he drawled. With that he twanged a sentence or two to his father. "I faound the caow, Dad. Do yu reckon to pull aout to-day?" "I have not decided. Go tend to your duties, Daniel." Daniel bestowed upon me a parting stare, and lurched away, snapping the lash of his goad. "And with your permission I will tend to mine, sir," I said. "Mr. Jenks doubtless has work for me. I thank you for your hospitality." "We are commanded by the prophet to feed the stranger, whether friend or enemy," he reproved. "We are also commanded by the Lord to earn our bread by the sweat of our brow. As long as you are no trifler you will be welcome at my wagon. Good-day to you." As I passed, the young woman, Rachael--whom I judged to be his daughter, although she was evidently far removed from parent stock--glanced quickly up. I caught her gaze full, so that she lowered her eyes with a blush. She was indeed wholesome if not absolutely pretty. When later I saw her with her sunbonnet doffed and her brown hair smoothly brushed back I thought her more wholesome still. Mr. Jenks received me jovially. "Got your belly full, have you?" "I'm a new man," I assured.