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Show Josephine met them at the back steps. She offered her hand to the prophet, who started with her towards the door. Just as they entered, he stopped, turning towards Ben. Even in the dim lantern light, Ben could see the tears welling in the old man's eyes. "They've put us under the rule of carpetbaggers," he began, so much emotion in his voice he could hardly get the words out. "They've taken away our vote, confiscated our property, hounded our leaders to the ends of the earth, and locked our best men in jail. I defy them to do more. I will not turn from my God." He paused, swallowing hard, not taking his eyes off Ben. "But when the Saints say they have had enough, that thpv ' ' compromise, mak carpetbaggers, the Cannon is right wnen ne says we need to try harder to get along with the rest of the country. Still, I wonder if I have failed, and think perhaps it is time to die." Hanging onto the woman's arm, the prophet turned and entered the house. Ben never saw him again. "I can put you up in the barn if you like," Bateman said. Ben turned and looked at the guard. "No thanks," Ben said finally. "I think I'll be moving on to Salt Lake. There's a young lady there, a writer. The prophet wanted me to talk to her." "No," Bateman said. "He's not going to do it again! " It took Ben a few seconds to figure out what Bateman was getting at. He finally saw the humor what the guard said, but did not ugh. "No," Ben said. "President Taylor doesn't want another wife. I'll be talking to her for me, not for him." |