had not struck the blow--though, as the elder brother, I was morally
responsible for it--and he suggested to the court that sentence be
suspended. This, Justice Zane seemed prepared to do, but I objected. I
was a newspaper writer (as I explained), and I felt that if I criticized
the court thereafter for what I believed to be a harshness that amounted
to persecution, I could be silenced by the imposition of the suspended
sentence; and if I failed to criticize, I should be false to what I
considered my duty. I did not wish to be put in any such position; and I
said so.

Justice Zane had a respect for the constitution and the statutes that
amounted to a creed of infallibility. He was the most superbly rigid
pontiff of legal justice that I ever knew. A man of unspotted character,
a Puritan, of a sincerity that was afterwards accepted and admired from
end to end of Utah, he was determined to vindicate the essential
supremacy of the civil law over the ecclesiastical domination in the
territory; and every act of insubordination against that law was
resented and punished by him, unforgivingly. He promptly sentenced me to
three months in the County jail and a fine of $150.

My imprisonment was, of course, a farce. I was merely confined, most of
the time, in a room in the County Court House, where I lived and worked
as if I were in my home. But the sentence remained on my record as a
sufficient mark of my recalcitrance; and I knew that it would not aid me
in my appeal to Washington, where I intended to argue--as the first
wise concession needed of the Federal authorities--that Chief Justice
Zane should no longer be retained on the bench in Utah, but should be
succeeded by a man more gentle. He was the great figure among our
prosecutors; the others were District Attorney Dickson and the two
assistants, Mr. Varian and Mr. Riles. The square had only seemed to be