"I am afraid Harry Lawrence has a hard row to hoe," remarks Jackson of the Bully Boy to Thomas of the Neptune. "He has got Tranyon and the Mormons against him. They will stop his sale to the English company if they do not get a goodly portion of his Mineral Hill." "He has got one chance, however," says the other. "Indeed! What is that?" "Why, don't you know," replies Thomas of the Neptune, "that the prophet up there," he nods his head in the direction of Brigham Young's private residence, "and some of the other leaders of the Church are beginning to be afraid of Tranyon?" "Afraid of his business talents?" asks the other. "He has got plenty of them." "No, afraid of his steadfastness in the faith of Joe Smith; afraid that he will refuse to pay his tithing!" laughs Thomas. "They say he made a million last year, and he hates to give up a hundred thousand to the Church." Then he adds very seriously: "Godby has gone back on them, and the Walkers are no more to be relied upon for Church dues, and this time they feel they cannot stand another apostasy, and will take desperate measures to stop it." "Who knows but Tranyon some day may feel the fist of the Church upon him as heavy as it fell on the Morrisites?" says Jackson, lowering his voice to a whisper, and, in spite of herself, the girl, as she listens, cannot help wishing that the hand of the Mormon Church may smite this Tranyon, if it will be any aid to Harry Lawrence. But the evening passes, and next day Erma getting to thinking of her father again, it suddenly occurs to her to look in the directory, which she does, but there is no Travenion in its list of names. The latter part of this day, which is a long one to her, she kills by a drive with Mrs. Livingston and Oliver to the Sulphur Springs, where they enjoy the baths. Mr. Livingston, as they return home, remarking on the softness the sulphur water has given to Erma's hands, would become very attentive and amatory and lover-like, did the girl but let him; but this serves to take her thoughts from that subject they will dwell on, though she says, "To-morrow papa must come, and he shall take me in the evening to Mr. Bussey's ball." And the morrow does come, but with it no father, and the girl turns for forgetfulness to making her preparations for the evening _fete_. Once or twice, however, she grows disheartened and mutters, "I cannot go. Dancing to-night would be a mockery," then suddenly cries to her maid, "The finest ball dress in my trunk,--the light blue one that I have never worn,--the one I was going to keep for San Francisco." A second after she directs Marie to get out what jewels she is carrying with her, and murmurs to herself, "I must look my best to-night," for Miss Volatile has suddenly remembered that three days have elapsed and Harry Lawrence may be at the _fete_ this evening. So, when the soft October night settles down upon the city, Mrs. Livingston is astonished to find her charge in excited mood.