Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 41 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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pS ; | oa 2 And so the Mormon elders instituted the Tribe of Dan, the Destroying Angels—a cohort of ruffians who faithfully carried out the orders given them. Woe then to the man, or men, who attempted to offer resis- tance to the will of the Mormon leaders! One or many it mattered not, the merciless arm of the Danites struck them down. ‘The deed was done, generally, in secret; then these apos- tles of a false creed lifted up their voices and prated of the “vengeance of the Lord.” And now by night, and in secret, we conduct the reader to a meeting of the Danites, The “Angels” were scattered around the fire, reclining in various attitudes; the Mormon elder, a stout, gross fellow, with coarse features, pig-like eyes, and a jowl like a bull-dog, had just made his appearance beside the camp-fire. It was evident that he had been expected, for one and all nod- ded in recognition. This elder, Gideon Biddeman by name, was one high in favor with the Mormon “Prophet,” and his chosen mouth-piece when orders were to be given to the Destroying Angels. ‘Bless you, my children!” exclaimed the elder, extending his arms in a mock benediction; “all up to time, eh?” casting his eyes ovér the group. ‘“That’s good, for P’ve come to talk business to you to-night. You all brothers of the tribe of Dan, the swords of the Lord—the Destroying Angels, who, with flaming steels, cut off the enemies of the Church of Zion. We are all bound by an oath—an oath sealed with blood, to carry out the will of the Lord; revealed to us through his anointed priests, the pillars of our Zion; and the penalty of breaking that oath—what is it?’ “* Death!” answered a dozen voices, in chorus. “Right, brothers, right! death to the traitor—death to him ‘who refuses, either through fear or favor, to execute the orders given him, even though it were to give the fatal stroke to his own kin,” The ruffians looked at each other curiously. This lengthy prelude meant business; something out of the common was about to transpire. ‘*We meet to-night for important business, and in order that it may be accepted as it should be accepted, I recall your oath to your minds. Brothers, there is a traitor in our band—a man recreant to the oath he swore; his doom is death, and we have met to-night to inflict the penalty.” Silence succeeded the words of the elder. The Destroyers glared at each other in astonishment. Then the Mormon leader again spoke: ‘‘Let the man rise, avow his fault and plead for mercy!” he exclaimed. No one moved, “Then in face of all I will denounce him,” the elder contin- ued, ‘The traitor is John Clark, Duke of Corinne!” A hoarse murmur of astonishment came from the lips of the ruffians, at this announcement. And then, with a sudden bound, a man was on his feet—a tall, well-proportioned fellow, clad like a hunter in a full deer- skin suit, richly trimmed and ornamented—a man of forty or thereabouts, with a lion-like head, clear-cut features, darkly bronzed by the sun, and wearing ever a stern, saturnine look. His jet-black hair was rudely cropped short, Indian fashion, across the temples, and hung in long tangled masses down upon his shoulders, John Clark was no common man; for years he had been the chief of the Danites and was reputed to hold his life as care- lessly as though lives were to be had for the asking. A man not given to brawling, and yet, when in liquor, he was utterly desperate and quick to resent an affront. Duke of Corinne he was commonly called, and with good reason, for on more than one <éccasion he had ‘‘cleaned out” that lively town, which, at thé time of which we write, was increasing in importance every _- day, being the head-quarters of the grading parties engaged on the railroad. “You are a liar, elder Gideon, and for two pins Id put a bullet through your heart!” the Danite leader cried, one of his silver-mounted revolvers glistening in his hand, the hammer raised and the muzzle leveled full at the breast of the Mormon, The elder’s face, ever a ghastly yellow-white, turned still -more ghastly, and, as his trembling eyes glanced around the amazed circle of ruffians, he saw that not a man of them all was disposed to interfere. “Take it back, elder! take it back, youlying hound! Though I wear your Mormon collar, ’m no Mormon dog!” the Danite cried, ‘*The vengeance of the Lord and the sword of Gideon may do well enough for the poor devils whom we hunt down, but such trash is wasted upon me! I do yourdirty work because I am a villain and an outlaw, and your Prophet pays well for it, but I don’t fear you, backed by all Salt Lake. You can’t put your heel on my neck and walk over me!” “Hold on—don’t be so cursed quick!” exclaimed the Mormon elder, just a little tremulously, and evidently alarmed for his personal safety. é; ‘‘Don’t you use your tongue so freely, then,” Clark replied, grimly. ‘We ain’t in Salt Lake now, where you scold like women at night and make it up in the morning, but here in the wilderness where every man is free and equal. You may bea great gun down yonder,” and the outlaw nodded his head, contemptuously, to where Salt Lake City, the Zion of these “ Latter-Day Saints,” nestled beneath the shelter of the white- -. erested Wahsatch mountains; “‘but up here you ain’t any better than anybody else!” “T only do my duty,” the elder said, sulkily; ‘“‘you have - betrayed the trust reposed in you, and the church wants to know why you, have done so? Just carry your mind back to the c ” > Mountain Meadows massacre, Beadle’s Dime Library. CHAPTER IL THE ACOUSATION. A FROWN came over the face of the Danite leader as he listened to the words of the Mormon elder—a frown in which all the older members of the band joined as their minds reverted to the past. The Mountain Meadows massacre! The pages of history do not recogd a wickeder or a more merci- less slaughter. The helpless emigrants, first lured into a trap and afterward ruthlessly shot down by the Mormon fighting-men disguised as Indians, and then their property distributed among these saintly men of Zion! ; “ And what of the Mountain Meadows massacre?’ cried the Danite, sternly and hoarsely. ‘‘Is that deed of blood never to be forgotten? You and I, elder, will roast in hell some day for our share in that thing if there is to be any judgment hereafter.” A sneer passed over the coarse face of the Mormon. A coward at heart and yet no slave to superstition, living man alone he dreaded; the terrors of the reckoning iu the world to come affrighted not Ais soul. ‘The flaming sword of the Lord struck then, and Zion rejoiced to know that her enemies were smitten, hip and thigh!” retorted the elder, with the snuffle dear to the heart of the canting hypo- crite. ‘‘It ill beseems you, a good son of the church, Zion’s right-hand man, to speak in such terms of the righteous deed.” ‘Elder, when Satan receives us below after judgment is passed, he’ll cry out, ‘I can’t have those Mormon butchers in here; they’ll corrupt my kingdom. Give them a snug corner and a few bushels of brimstone and let them set upa hell of their own,’” the Danite replied, in biting sarcasm, ‘‘ Enough of this!” commanded Biddeman, stung by the hoarse chuckle which escaped from the lips of the outlaws at this doubtful compliment. “I did not come here to bandy words with you, but to accuse you of an offense which you have com- mitted, and to listen to your answer.” ‘‘Go ahead; but what has the Mountain Meadows massacre to do with it?” ; ‘*-You know that orders were given that all those vile wretches who composed that band of emigrants, who had poisoned our springs, cursed our church and our good and holy men, were to perish by the sword which they had invoked?’ . “Oh, yes, I remember well enough; you wauted to plunder the emigrants, for they were well fixed with a big train, and so you called down the ‘ vengeance of the Lord’ upon them.” _. Again the elder winced, for this truth was not at all palatable. “The word went forth that all must die—that none must escape to tell the tale, for the Gentiles would have been only too glad to have made our holy vengeance an excuse for persecuting us,” Biddeman continued, never taking the least notice of the unpleasant words of the heartless Danite leader. ** Well, what has all this got to do with me?” “John Clark, you spared one of the emigrant train; you enabled the party to escape the slaughter, and that person, able to bear witness to the whole affair—to denounce those who took part in it—is now in the neighborhood of Corinne.” . A deathlike silence had fallen upon the little group as they listened to the words of the elder. Times had changed greatly since the day of that terrible tragedy. No more did the Mormon leaders lord it over Utah, and defy the power of the United States government. The strong arm which had beaten down the great rebellion was not to be wantonly affronted, although these chiefs of Zion boasted the power of heaven at their backs. Lee, the principal leader at the massacre, had fled for his life, and under another name was hiding among the almost inaccessi- ble mountains in southern Utah, it was said. The Mormon leaders had done their best to destroy all traces of their connection with the slaughter, for, with the near approach of the railroad, and from the number of Gentiles—as the Mormons name all non-believers in their faith—who had poured into Utah, the day for open resistance had gone by. Great was the wonder, then, of the Danites as they listened to the accusation. “Tt is false!” cried John Clark, promptly; “and whoever says it, lies! Do you think that Iam a fool to run my own neck into a halter? Who makes the charge, elder? I demand to be confronted with my accuser!” * There is no actual accuser, Clark,” Biddeman replied. ‘The report comes from secret information.” ‘Some spy with a grudge against me; but I’ll make it hot for him if I find out who it is!” And those who knew John Clark well, knew that the Duke of Corinne rarely indulged in idle boasts. - ‘¢ You deny the fact?” ‘Yes, a thousand times!” the Danite cried fiercely. “Itisa lie!” “Clark, you are too wise a man to trifle with us, I should hope,” the Mormon elder observed, slowly, “and therefore I am willing to take your word in this matter, particularly as we need your aid just now in a certain matter.” ‘ ‘‘Go ahead; I’m your man as long as you pay.” “There’s a chap in Corinne who has made a good deal of trouble for some of our best men. He curses the Saints up hill and down whenever he gets a chance; says that our Prophet is a fraud, makes love to our Mormon girls, and acts generally in a manner which is extremely unpleasant to us; We want his mouth stopped.” “* His name?” the Danite asked. **Gold Dan!” “Why, he’s dead!” cried one of the band, abruptly, a stout, red-headed, red-whiskered fellow, —— Eee Comicbooks:com —