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acquainted with the jargon of many native tribes, further ingratiated himself in the Indian's favor by presenting his squaw with a few gaudy trinkets such as an experienced borderer always carries when crossing an Indian country.

On and on he hurried toward the valley of Great Salt Lake, impelled by an irresistible impulse he could not have explained to any one. The weather was in his favor in crossing the Blue Mountains, though the air. was cold, and the wind sometimes blew furiously. Water was low in all the smaller streams, and the beds of many of them were dry. Ice formed at night in swampy places and thawed by day, making travelling slippery and tedious; but on and on he hurried, knowing time was precious and yet not clearly understanding why.

At the Ogden Gateway he gained some information that doubled his impatience and quickened his speed. A man was being held on a charge of murder at Salt Lake City who he instinctively felt was Ashleigh. His informant, a Spanish half-breed, did not know his name, but he said an Indian girl was the victim, and her name was Le-Le.

On and on he journeyed, till he reached the verge of the little border city of Salt Lake. The Mormon Temple was not yet built, but a tabernacle had already arisen as its herald; and the Bee Hive House and Lion House were filled with wives and children of the prophet, who regularly toiled and spun. Joseph hastened to the adobe jail, where, after a brief delay, which seemed to him like an age, he was conducted to a dingy little cell, reserved for criminals of the lowest type.

A tall man, unshaven and in his shirt-sleeves, was pacing back and forth in his narrow quarters like a caged animal. He paused as the bolt flew back; and, as the light fell upon the face of his astonished visitor, he exclaimed, "Good God! Joseph Addicks! Can this be you?"