The Assignation

THE ASSIGNATION m Juan of the gleaming teeth and ardent eyes to gather her in his arms. Anger, resentment welled up in her. The false one had lured her to the rendezvous, then had failed to come. Yet it was not like Lopez to miss an appointment, especially one with a woman. She circled the pool, then stopped on the edge. As she gazed into its black depths, the conviction grew upon her — that Juan Lopez had met with foul play he had many enemies. Perhaps his horse had stepped on a rattle snake. Still, Lopez would have come. She would wait a little. Like a gorgeous dragon-fly, she hovered on thei edge of the water, until the cry of a strange bird scared her away. It is one thing to creep out in the dead of night; another, to crawl back in the chill gray dawn without having seen the lover. Dolores hurried to her cold room and tore the wilted flowers from her hair. Later, that morning, as she sat on the balcony at breakfast with her father, Dolores showed no sign of her all-night vigil, unless it were the pensive look about her mouth. Youth is resilient and soon springs back. "Looks like two men off there," said Big Blair nodding toward the northern horizon. Dolores strained her eyes and descried two horsemen above the mesquite. "Guess it's Pete and Jim come to report on the cattle in Happy Valley. They should have arrived yesterday," he grumbled. Dolores lingered at the table till the two men rode up. They crossed the balcony with much clanking of spurs. Then they stopped and drank deep of the water from the olla that hung in the shade. "Well?" interrogated Blair. "Stock looking pretty good. That bunch of three-year-old steers about ready to ship," laconically explained Jim. "Funny thing happened when we came through the upper wash," exclaimed Pete: "We came upon a black horse hobbled. When we hunted around we found the body of a man with a mountain lion at his entrails. When it saw us it made a get-away. When we examined the face, guess who it was? Juan Lopez! Must have lain down to sleep for an hour or two and the beast got him." Only the old Indian woman that carried the food noticed that Dolores' hand shook till she spilled her chocolate. "How dreadful!" Dolores forced through white lips, then she turned and tottered to her room. "Sorry I upset your little girl," murmured Pete looking after her. In the sanctuary of her room Dolores tore at the blouse

820 IMPROVEMENT ERA

at her throat as if she would suffocate. While she waited for him to keep his tryst, he lay dead on the hillside! The human "Wildcat" had met his match at last. The brute had killed him — on his way to his assignation, perhaps as he dreamed of the warm lips of Dolores. He had probably lain down waiting for the moon to rise, and the lion had pounced on him as he lay helpless. Dolores threw herself on to the bed in a paroxysm of grief. Dry sobs shook her. She clenched and unclenched her hands till the nails left blue ridges. After the storm had spent itself, a calm settled over her. After all, nobody spoke well of her gay Lothario. They couldn't all be wrong. It wasn't his first affair. His name had been coupled with that of other women. She recalled vague rumors which in her infatuation she had ignored. Like a penitent child she looked up at the Crucified Savior above her head and cried piteously. What would have been her fate had she met Juan that night? What if he had carried her with him across the border and then had thrown her away like a cast-off garment? She' had miraculously escaped from the consequences of her own folly! Providence had saved her from the clutches of the "Wildcat." even though Juan Lopez had to die. She slid to the side of her bed and prayed, thanking the Lord as she never had thanked him before.

Thoughts

By Albert R. Lyman

Behold the confusion, and be not confused; hear the discord all around, and preserve still the harmony of your soul's wonted composure. How can we consider the stage of yesterday, and know how the ctors passed therefrom, as the lights changed and the curtain presented a new scene, without bearing thoughtfully in mind that this stage and these actors will also pass— that the men of tomorrow will point to the folly of those who, today, lived and labored under the popular delusion that this is the stage of all stages, that its apparent prizes are all real, that the lure of its denoument is not staged for an occasion only, but for all time! The sad tragedy of this latter-day work is the death of a returned missionary. He comes home with the brilliancy and magnetism of his good work resting like a glorious crown on his head, and all are inspired by his presence to undertake better things. Then, too soon, he is dull with an indifference painful to those who had begun to build on the stimulus of his personality. He was alive, and is dead. His is the most distressing form of death which comes to men, and yet no such tears are shed for him as if he had gone gloriously to his rest in the performance of duty in his mission-field. Is intelligence ever statical by nature? Is it satisfied and unprogressive, a state of being dimly aware? Intelligence is immortal — native of infinite worlds. In the exercise of its unperverted functions, it looks to and strives for immortal achievement, bartering the very tissues of its corporeal being as proper exchange for endless values. Yet the minds of men are often so perverted by excess that they become alien to the original ideal.

The Solemn Assembly

Elder Heber J. Grant Chosen President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

At no time has the spirit of the General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, been more enthusiastic and edifying, than in the eighty-ninth annual conference, held in the Great Tabernacle, Salt Lake City, beginning Sunday, June 1, and closing June 3, 1919. The conference had been postponed from April 6, owing to health conditions among the people. The large body of Saints in attendance mourned for the great prophet and leader, the late President Joseph F. Smith, but in his successor, the spirit of the work was wonderfully revealed. Every testimony, all that was said and done, and the union of the Saints that was made apparent, verified the fact that the mantle of leadership and the power of presidency had fallen upon President Heber J. Grant. The first business of the conference, after the opening exercises, was the presentation of officers of the Church for the support of the people. The quorums of the priesthood were present in solemn assembly for the purpose of voting in that capacity for the General Authorities of the Church. The quorums and officers in nine divisions voted in the following order: First Presidency, apostles, patriarchs, presidents of stakes, their counselors and high councilors, high priests, seventies, elders, bishops and their counselors, the lesser priesthood (priests, teachers and deacons). They were arranged as follows: First Presidency and apostles, in their respective places on the stand; patriarchs, south wing of the stand; presidents of stakes, the counselors, and high councilors, lower stands and left front; high priests, left center of main hall; seventies, right center of main hall; elders, back left of main hall; bishops and counselors, left wing of the stand; lesser priesthood, back of the left north isle ; the remaining portions of the building, including the galleries, were occupied by members at large. President Heber J. Grant stated that in voting, each quorum