"I've heard of your love for Fay Larkin and that you intend to
adopt her. But--Jane Withersteen, the child is a Gentile!"

"Yes. But, Elder, I don't love the Mormon children any less
because I love a Gentile child. I shall adopt Fay if her mother
will give her to me."

"I'm not so much against that. You can give the child Mormon
teaching," said Tull. "But I'm sick of seeing this fellow Venters
hang around you. I'm going to put a stop to it. You've so much
love to throw away on these beggars of Gentiles that I've an idea
you might love Venters."

Tull spoke with the arrogance of a Mormon whose power could not
be brooked and with the passion of a man in whom jealousy had
kindled a consuming fire.

"Maybe I do love him," said Jane. She felt both fear and anger
stir her heart. "I'd never thought of that. Poor fellow! he
certainly needs some one to love him."

"This'll be a bad day for Venters unless you deny that," returned
Tull, grimly.

Tull's men appeared under the cottonwoods and led a young man out
into the lane. His ragged clothes were those of an outcast. But
he stood tall and straight, his wide shoulders flung back, with
the muscles of his bound arms rippling and a blue flame of
defiance in the gaze he bent on Tull.