, brick where fires have swept away the
shacks, and wood with false fronts where dynamite or a change of wind
has checked the conflagration; a miscellaneous conglomeration of
saloons, restaurants, general stores, and livery stables, all very
satisfying to the material wants of man, but in the ensemble not
over-pleasing to the eye.

At first glance, Moroni might have been Reno, Nevada; or Gilroy,
California; or Deming, New Mexico; or even Bender--except for the
railroad. A second glance, however, disclosed a smaller number of
disconsolate cow ponies standing in front of the saloons and a larger
number of family rigs tied to the horse rack in front of Swope's
Store; there was also a tithing house with many doors, a brick church,
and women and children galore. And for twenty miles around there was
nothing but flowing canals and irrigated fields waving with wheat and
alfalfa, all so green and prosperous that a stranger from the back
country was likely to develop a strong leaning toward the faith before
he reached town and noticed the tithing house.

As for Hardy, his eyes, so long accustomed to the green lawns and
trees of Berkeley, turned almost wistful as he gazed away across the
rich fields, dotted with cocks of hay or resounding to the whirr of
the mower; but for the sweating Latter Day Saints who labored in the
fields, he had nothing but the pitying contempt of the cowboy. It was
a fine large country, to be sure, and produced a lot of very necessary
horse feed, but Chapuli shied when his feet struck the freshly
sprinkled street, and somehow his master felt equally ill at ease.

Having purchased his stamp and eaten supper, he was wandering
aimlessly up and down the street--that being the only pleasure and
recourse of an Arizona town outside the doors of a saloon--when in the
medley of heterogeneous sounds he heard a familiar voice boom out and
as abruptly stop. It was evening and the stores were closed, but
various citizens still sat along the edge of the sidewalk, smoking and
talking in the semi-darkness. Hardy paused and listened a moment. The
voice which he had heard was that of no ordinary man; it was deep and
resonant, with a rough, overbearing note almost military in its
brusqueness; but it had ceased and another voice, low and protesting,
had taken its place. In the gloom he could just make out the forms of
the two men, sitting on their heels against the wall and engaged in a
one-sided argument. The man with t