The prohibition law, many argued, was simply a way to entice the United States into granting Arizona statehood, which it had done three years ago. Like the abolition of the death penalty, the law was a good compromise to those who, far away, wished to rule the lives of those in Arizona, a good deal of whom were Mormon. It would not be seemly to repeal those laws so soon after statehood, thereby admitting that they had been passed to ease the way for statehood. And the church supported the ban, and he respected the authority of the church, whose politics, by revelation, came directly from God. Still, he thought it a terrible charade to pretend to enforce a law when you were actually turning a blind eye to those who broke it.

He wasn't keen on the death penalty, though he had a hard time refuting the argument that the death penalty ultimately saved lives. He had some difficulty, however, understanding how taking a life saved more lives. In his short experience with criminals and with murder, most murders were committed when the killer was out of his mind with rage, fear, or hatred and wouldn't be stopped by the knowledge that there was a death penalty. In fact, the two murderers he did know seemed decent-enough men who had gotten themselves into tight spots they didn't know how to get out of. Still, the Heavenly Father was clear on His commandments.

Personally, he would rather deal with a murderer than a whiskey runner who was driven by a quite well reasoned desire for wealth.

And there was good money in whiskey. Very good money. The prohibition of whiskey had driven its price up to a nearly incredible twenty dollars a quart, when gold itself was eighteen dollars an ounce. An ounce of gold, which would take a man considerable time to sluice, fell short of buying one quart of whiskey. The prohibition dwindled supply, which drove up prices. The high prices drove greed, which drove the illegal production and distribution of the stuff. He was struck by the way the most firm believers in the forces of the marketplace could be convinced that they didn't operate in situations involving ethics and morality.

Maybe he had been better off as a carpenter. He was a decent carpenter, though there were faster and better carpenters than he. But he could build a building to stand, its walls and corners square, roof, door, and windows tight, and it wouldn't be unpleasant to look at. Carpentry was simple when you had learned its secrets and were fastidious and patient. He was all of those. And once a board was sawn, it stayed sawn. Once a nail was driven deep, it wasn't coming back out without a good deal of effort. And bad boards were thrown on the scrap heap, not in jail.