"Well, the fellow sat there on the table, his legs swinging as if he didn't care a--rap. There was a Bible and some other books on the table, but they had got beyond the use of books. The young fellow ridiculed the Prophet, poked fun at his revelations, and said the 'Mormons' were a bad lot altogether. Said they deserved to be driven from decent society into the desert as they had been. He kept it up like that, and then he said something odd. 'I wouldn't have your religion at any price,' he said. 'Get out with you.' "My companion sat there, not saying a word. I saw the tears come into his eyes. He wiped them away hurriedly. Then his face became pale, and it seemed to me that a light actually shone from it. As I told you, he is just a boy, and as I looked on him then, I thought of the boy prophet, and what my father has told me so often about him. Well, when the fellow got through with his abuse, and jumped from the table as if we were dismissed, my companion arose and in a voice wonderfully gentle yet vibrant with power, said: "'Yes, we will go, but not before I tell you this: You know not what you say, therefore, you are forgiven, as far as I am concerned. My parents were driven from this state. All they had was destroyed by mobs. My mother died on the plains and her body lies there to this day. All that mortal man can suffer and live my people have suffered, and all for the sake of the truth, the gospel that I have brought to you this day, and which you so scornfully reject. And now I tell you in the name of the Lord, some day you will receive this gospel--but not until you have paid for it, and paid for it dearly. Like the merchantman in the parable, _all that you have_ will you pay for this Pearl of Great Price! Good day, sir.' "We both left him standing somewhat dazed, but I tell you--" The letter dropped to Thomas Strong's knee, as he looked up and out at the closing day. He arose, went to the glass door which opened on to the little porch, stepped out into the air that he might breathe easier. What he saw was not Old Thunder Mountain, or the wide extent of the Flat, dim now in the twilight, but a vine-enclosed porch and the pale, peculiar face of a boy telling him the words he had just read. * * * * There had been other boy prophets besides the first great one; and yes, oh Great God, one old, broken man had paid the price. The vines on the upper porch of Piney Ridge Cottage now also formed a cover, and in their shadow Thomas Strong kneeled and prayed as he had never prayed before. An hour later, Julia, wondering what their guest was doing in his room so long without a light, called to him softly at the foot of the stairs. "Yes," he replied, as if he did not realize for the moment who was calling, "I'm coming--I'm coming now." CHAPTER XXII.