"Yer darter--that's the p'int! I'll look after her salvation. She shall be a lamb of Zion. I'll take her right into my sheepfold." "Powers of Heaven! What do you mean?" And the wall now rises above his mouth. "I sha'n't be hard on her," mocks Kruger. "I'll spare her herding and cattle work. She shall do chores round the house. I'll be light on her, I will, bishop, for I mean--" He whispers three words into the fainting wretch's ear, who reels back from him and shrieks: "MY GOD! NOT THAT!" To his scream, the crashing sounds of rocks and a big boulder make answer, and the light of this outer world leaves Ralph Travenion, and footsteps are heard passing away along the echoing level, and up the incline, and the old club exquisite, bound and helpless, is left alone in darkness--not to the torture of hunger, for of that he thinks not--not to the torment of thirst, for of that he cares not--not to the despair of certain death, though that has come upon him--but to the agony of fearing that the daughter of his heart may by some art or trick taste the awful degradation of plural marriage, such as he as Mormon bishop has preached and sanctified and has meted out to the daughters of other men. BOOK III. OUT OF A STRANGE COUNTRY. CHAPTER XV. THE SNOW-BOUND PULLMAN. As this horror is taking place inside the earth, Miss Travenion and her two escorts on its surface are speeding over the snow towards Tooele. The consideration and respect with which she is treated by these two rough-and-ready fighters of many a desperate mining battle is almost oppressive: they are so exceedingly polite. Every time he addresses her, Patsey Bolivar takes off his hat. Chancing in one of his remarks to use the word "infernal" (which is a very mild expression for this gentleman), Pioche George suavely suggests: "Don't ye mind Patsey's high-flown remarks, miss. I've told him if he uses any stronger expression than a plain 'damn' in yer presence, that I'll perforate him." "Would you rob me of one of my guards?" gasps the girl. "No," replies George. "Patsey an' I have arranged that any discussion between us shall take place after we've seen ye safe through--as we will; though I reckon we've more to fear from snow than anything else on this trip, for it seems as if a blizzard was a-blowin' up." So Miss Travenion journeys on, Patsey sitting on the front seat and driving, and Pioche George, who is beside him, turning round to her and regaling Erma with anecdotes of his frontier experience, some of which are amusing, and nearly all of them horrible.