"Lassiter, I needn't tell you the rest."

"Well, it'd be no news to me. I know Mormons. I've seen their
women's strange love en' patience en' sacrifice an' silence en'
whet I call madness for their idea of God. An' over against that
I've seen the tricks of men. They work hand in hand, all
together, an' in the dark. No man can hold out against them,
unless he takes to packin' guns. For Mormons are slow to kill.
That's the only good I ever seen in their religion. Venters, take
this from me, these Mormons ain't just right in their minds. Else
could a Mormon marry one woman when he already has a wife, an'
call it duty?"

"Lassiter, you think as I think," returned Venters.

"How'd it come then that you never throwed a gun on Tull or some
of them?" inquired the rider, curiously.

"Jane pleaded with me, begged me to be patient, to overlook. She
even took my guns from me. I lost all before I knew it," replied
Venters, with the red color in his face. "But, Lassiter, listen.
"Out of the wreck I saved a Winchester, two Colts, and plenty of
shells. I packed these down into Deception Pass. There, almost
every day for six months, I have practiced with my rifle till the
barrel burnt my hands. Practised the draw--the firing of a Colt,
hour after hour!"

"Now that's interestin' to me," said Lassiter, with a quick
uplift of his head and a concentration of his gray gaze on
Venters. "Could you throw a gun before you began that