same taunting voice. At last I got downright angry and said, 'All right, I'm going right on and fill my mission, and go crazy!' From that moment I have ceased to be bothered, and am now feeling fine."

"Good for you," said Chester. "You'll win out. I wish I was sure about myself." He went no further in explanation, however.

Ship board etiquette does not require formal introductions before extended conversations may be carried on. The New England school ma'am and the German professor were in a deep discussion ten minutes after they had met for the first time. Many on the ship were going especially "to do Europe," so there were themes for conversation in common.

As it happened, Chester was alone again that afternoon and he met the minister and his daughter on the promenade deck. They were taking their exercise moderately, pausing frequently to look at any trifling diversion. Chester tipped his cap at them as they passed. At the next meeting in the walk, the minister stopped and greeted the young man.

"I wish to thank you for your act of kindness to my daughter," he said. "She has told me about it."

"It was nothing, I assure you, sir," replied Chester. "I don't think the fellow will annoy her again."

"I hope not. On these ocean voyages one is thrown so closely into all kinds of company. We, of course, must suppose all our fellow-passengers are respectable people, until we find out otherwise—but let us sit down. Where are our chairs, Lucy?"

"They're on the other side, I believe, where we left them this morning."

"It's a little too windy there."

"I'll bring them around to you," said Chester. Lucy followed him, pointing out which of the chairs belonged to them.

"May I not carry one?" she asked.

"You do not appear strong enough to lift one."

Chester carried the two chairs around to the side of the sheltered deck, then found a vacant chair for himself which he placed with the other two.

"Thank you very much," said the minister, as they seated themselves. "The day is really fine, isn't it? After the sea-sickness, there is something glorious in a pleasant sea voyage. This is my third time across, but I don't remember just such a fine day as this. Are you a good sailor?" this to Chester.

"I've not missed a meal yet, if that's any indication."

"I envy you. I have often wished I could be on deck in a bit of real bad weather. We had a little blow the other day, I understand, when that poor fellow lost his life."

"Yes; I saw the accident," replied Chester; whereupon he had to relate the details to them.

"Well, such is life—and death," was the minister's only comment on the story.

The minister did most of the talking. Perhaps that was because he was used to it, having, as he told Chester, been a preacher for twenty-five years. The daughter commented briefly now and then, prompting his memory where it seemed to be weak. Chester listened with great interest to the man's account of former trips to Europe and his description of famous places. The speaker's voice was pleasant and well-modulated. His clean-cut face lighted up under the inspiration of some vivid description. Chester found himself drawn to the man nearly as much as he had been to the daughter.

"You're an American," announced the minister, turning to Chester.

"Yes."

"A western American, too."

"Right again; how can you tell?"

"Easily enough. How far west?"

"My home is in Chicago."

"Well, Lucy and I can beat you. We came from Kansas City. Ever been there?"

"I've passed through twice."

"Through the Union Depot only?" asked Lucy.

"You must have received a very unpleasant impression of our city."

"Well, happily I did get away from that depot. I took a ride on the cars out to Independence, and I saw a good part of the city besides. It's beautiful out towards Swope Park—"

"There's where we live," exclaimed the girl. "I think the park's just grand. I live in it nearly all summer."

At this point of the conversation, a party to windward, among whom were the two Catholic Fathers, lighted their pipes, and the smoke streamed like from so many chimneys into the faces of those sitting near. The minister looked sharply towards the puffing men, while Lucy tried to push the denser clouds away with her hands; but no notice was taken of such gentle remonstrances.

"I'll speak to them," suggested Chester.

"No; don't. It would only offend them," said the minister. "They think they are strictly within their rights, and it does not dawn on their nicotine poisoned wits that they are taking away other peoples' rights,—that of breathing the uncontaminated air. We'll just move our chairs a bit," which they did.

"You don't smoke, I take it," continued the clergyman, addressing Chester.

"No; I quit two years ago."

"Good for you. It's a vile habit, and I sometimes think the worst effect smoking has on people is that it dulls the nice gentlemanlyness of a man's character. Now, those men over there, even the Catholic Fathers, are, no doubt gentlemen in all respects but one; it's a pity that the tobacco habit should make the one exception."

Chester agreed in words, Lucy in looks.

"You say you have passed through Kansas City," continued the father. "How far west have you been?"

"To the Pacific Coast."

"Lucy and I should have made this trip westward, but the doctor said we must not cross the mountains, because of her heart. So an ocean voyage was advised."

"And I did want so much to see the Rockies," added the young woman. "I have always had a longing to see our own mountains as well as those of Switzerland. Next summer we'll take that western trip."

"I hope so, daughter."

"I assure you they are worth seeing," said Chester.

"No doubt about it. Lucy and I have planned it all for some day. Were you ever in Utah?"

"I lived for some time in Salt Lake City. Be sure to see that town on your trip."

The minister looked somewhat queerly at Chester for a moment. Then his gaze swept out to the water again as if a momentary disturbing thought was gotten rid of. Lucy was interested.

"Tell us about Salt Lake City, and, and the Mormons,'" pleaded she.

"Never mind the 'Mormons,' Lucy," admonished her father.

"It's difficult to speak of Utah and Salt Lake without mentioning the 'Mormons,'" added Chester.

"Then let's talk of something else, something more pleasant."

Evidently this minister was like all others, Chester concluded; sane and intelligent on all subjects but one,—the "Mormons." Well, he would set himself right before these two people, and do it now.

"I can say," said Chester, "that my experience among the 'Mormon' people has been among the most pleasant of my life. In fact, I don't know where I can go to find a more honest, God-fearing, virtuous people. I—"

"Young man," interrupted the clergyman, looking keenly at him, "are you a 'Mormon'?"

"Yes, sir; I have that honor."

Lucy gave a cry, whether of alarm or gladness, the young man could not then tell. The minister arose slowly. "Lucy," he said, "let us walk a little more," and without another word the two resumed their promenade.

But in Lucy's face there appeared concern. The tears, glittering in her eyes did not altogether hide the reassuring glance which she turned about to give Chester as he sat alone by the vacated chairs.

CHAPTER IV.

The next day was Sunday. Even on ship-board there are some indications that the seventh day is different from the rest. There is always a little extra to the menu for dinner, and then religious services are also held; and are not these two things frequently all that distinguish the Sabbath on the land?

That morning neither Lucy nor her