you going to do with these boys?"

The response came from the officer in a sharp tone:

"We're going to take them away with us."

"No you ain't," said Sutliffe in an emphatic manner

After further argument the detective said to Sutliffe:

"If you don't hush up we'll take you, too."

At this juncture, John Nicholson, president of the company, came forward and asked what was the matter.

The detective answered:

"We are going to take these boys away because they have absconded from their apprenticeship."

The officer then produced the papers and showed them to Brother Nicholson, who, after reading them, said:

"That's all right. I did not know anything about the boys."

The officer then asked for our passage money. Brother Nicholson replied:

"I cannot give you it; but the boys can get it by going to President Young's office at Islington."

Our ship tickets were then endorsed by Brother Nicholson, to the effect that the passage money had to be given to no one but the boys (Richard and myself).

Having our luggage ready for starting we disposed of our ship outfit to two of the Saints, the cost of which was about five shillings. We began to shake hands with the Saints, many of whom, with tears in their eyes, bade us a sad "good-by." While thus engaged the detective seized me by the collar and pulling me towards the steps, said:

"Come along, we can't wait for you!"

With aching hearts away we went with our box, accompanied by Carter and the detective. Our destination was the Thames Police Office, which was about a mile distant. On arriving there, Carter and the detective left as soon as they had ordered breakfast for us.

There were two men in charge of the office, who took quite an interest in us and treated us very kindly.

Considering all things, the morning passed away very well. Something seemed to be whispering within me, "It's all for the best." I told Richard so, and he said he felt the same.

We were made to feel worse by hearing a number of church bells ringing merrily, and upon enquiring the cause were informed it was the anniversary of the queen's birthday. The morning seemed a long one, and when dinner time came we were provided with a good meal of roast beef, potatoes, etc.

In the early afternoon we were taken in a hack to the office of President B. Young, Jr., at Islington, by Mr. Carter and the detective, whose object in taking us there was to endeavor to get our passage money and use it in paying the expenses of taking us back to our homes.

As we approached the office the detective asked for our ship tickets. I told him I would not give them up. There were three tickets—two to take us across the ocean, the other to take me to Wyoming, Nebraska.

Again the officer asked me for the tickets, which I still refused to give up. He said he would soon return them to me. On that condition I handed them to him with many misgivings. It was a severe trial to be taken back home; but to lose our hard-earned savings as well we felt keenly.

Arriving at our destination, inquiry was made for Brother Young, but we were informed that he was not there. We were invited in and told to wait a few minutes, when some gentlemen would see us; and soon Elders N. H. Felt, George Linford and other brethren made their appearance.

The officer then told them he wished to get the money for the ship tickets, whereupon the brethren returned to another room to hold council. In a few minutes they came and said that Brigham Young had gone to Liverpool, but if the boys (Richard and myself) would send their tickets to George J. Linford at Sunderland the money would be refunded. We were then taken back to the police office.

While on the way back, Carter got out of the hack. After he had gone the detective drew close to us and said he did not want us to think any the less of him for the part he had taken, as he had only done his duty. I told him it was all right, we knew it.

We arrived at the police office between 4 and 5 o'clock and shortly afterwards had our supper, after which I wrote a letter to George J. Linford and inclosed the three tickets. Just as it was finished, one of the men in charge of the jail said:

"Come, mates, we must do our duty; you'll have to go into the cell."

"All right," said I, and then asked him to post our letter, and he said he would.

We were then escorted into a cell. Some bed clothes were given us and we were told that anyone else would not have been allowed this privilege. They said if we wanted anything we were to shout for it. So they locked us up and went away.

CHAPTER VII.

HOW THE TIME WAS SPENT IN THE CELL—A TRUE TESTIMONY—AN OFFICER FROM MIDDLESBROUGH—HANDCUFFED— LEAVE LONDON—ARRIVAL AT MIDDLESBROUGH—THE POLICE OFFICE.

It was a small cell built of rock, with stationary scats around it. In the middle of the door was a square hole, with an extended ledge, where eatables, etc., could be passed through.

All was quiet, no noise, not even the ticking of a clock, could be heard. There was no light save the glimmer of the gas from the passage way outside the cell.

We were alone and felt sad and rather low-spirited. We conversed but little. I walked up and down the cell; Richard laid down and tried to sleep. This was a hard thing for him to do, as his thoughts troubled him. Oh, how I lifted my heart heavenward and prayed most fervently to my Heavenly Father to comfort us in our hour of trial! Presently I heard footsteps, and a voice at the door asked:

"Do you want anything, mates?"

I answered, "No."

Poor fellow! It was one of the keepers. They evidently felt for us, for they came two or three times and asked the same question. Then I laid down and tried to sleep, but could not.

We had been in the cell perhaps two hours, when a heavenly influence rested upon us. I said to Richard:

"How do you feel?"

He replied, "I feel happy."

I told him I never felt so happy in all my life as at that moment, and remarked I did not care how long we remained in the cell if we could feel like that all the time.

It was the holy influence of the Spirit of the Lord that rested upon us. To us it was a testimony that the gospel we had embraced was true. Our minds became calm and we were strengthened in that hour of trial. At last sleep closed our eyes. Thus ended a very eventful day of our lives.

About half-past 5 next morning our breakfast was handed to us through the small, square hole in the door—bread and butter and coffee. We tasted the coffee, but did not like it; so I asked the keeper to give us some water, which he did.

About 6 o'clock, the cell door was opened and there stood before us an officer from Middlesbrough, a gentleman whom we had seen before. He produced a pair of handcuffs and put them on our wrists. This indignity we felt most keenly. My wrists were so thin the handcuffs were almost too large and they nearly slipped over my hand. He told us to follow him, which we did, and as we passed through the police office, we bade the keepers good-by. Their kindness towards us is still treasured up by me, and if ever the pleasure of meeting them again presents itself, it will be a source of happiness to shake them by the hand and thank them for past favors.

A hack was waiting in front of the office, which we got into and started for the railway which would take us to Middlesbrough.

A little while after the train had started the handcuffs were removed from our wrists. To pass the time away we amused ourselves looking out of the car windows and viewing passing objects and did all we could to make them think we did not care for being taken back to our homes; but could the secrets of our bosoms have been revealed, two aching hearts would have been discovered.

Before the train reached its destination the "bracelets" were again placed on our hands. We arrived at Middlesbrough