CHAPTER XXVION THE PRECIPICEThe air of gloom that enveloped Wharton Kendrick's home was almost physical in its intensity. It was with apprehension that I awaited the opening of the door, and it was with anxious eagerness that I looked to Mercy Fillmore as she stood behind the servant who answered my ring."Oh, Mr. Hampden," she exclaimed, as she advanced and gave me her hand, "I have been wishing you would come."I was gratified at the tone of relief and confidence with which she spoke, but my response was to ask of the condition of Wharton Kendrick."He is still out of his head," she replied, dropping into a seat. "Sometimes he talks a little--a few broken words--but most of the time he lies there silent, with vacant eyes. If it were not for his heavy breathing we should hardly know that he was alive." Her sympathetic face was filled with concern as she spoke."What does the doctor say?""He tries to look cheerful and speak confidently, but it is such an effort, I am afraid. Yet for Laura's sake I hope, and try to be convinced by the doctor's words." Then she added quickly: "I said I wanted to see you. Mr. Parks was here to-day. We had a long talk, and truly, Mr. Hampden, I want you to believe that he is a man of noble impulses. He is so unselfish, so eager for the good of others.""I don't complain about his instincts. His heart is in the right place, as the saying goes, but his head is upside down.""Oh, Mr. Hampden, you do not understand him!" said Mercy in a pained voice."Perhaps not; but surely he has not convinced you that he is wise to engage in such desperate enterprises as the overthrow of the government?"Mercy was silent a little, and then she said:"I should be glad if he could see some other way to work for the good of the people, but I am not wise myself, so how can I judge him? He tells me that it is not right to reason from womanly fears. Do you think he is in danger, Mr. Hampden? He is planning some important enterprise for to-night. Is there anything we can do to save him?"My private opinion was that Parks would end by getting shot or thrown into jail. But I could not pain Mercy with any such brutal statements, so I soothed her fears as best I could. "We can't influence him to keep out of the movement," I said, "but ten to one it won't amount to anything but a lot of oratory, and hard words break no bones. You have no cause to worry about him.""Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," said Mercy, looking relieved. "And now I want to tell you about Danny Regan. You know that Moon Ying recognized him as that old Chinaman's express-man?""Yes. She told me.""Well, I talked to him until he confessed the whole plot to me. It began last week, after a good deal of bargaining, when he agreed to steal the girl. He came late one night with two others, and thought there would be nobody watching the house. But your men surprised them coming over the fence, and caught Danny's friend. He is the sergeant-at-arms of an anti-coolie club, he said. Danny and the other one got away. Then Danny came around in the daytime, and pretended to be a tramp, and got something to eat and talked everything out of the cook. She told him all about Moon Ying, and where she slept, and Danny raised a company to attack the house. He was going to set it on fire, and capture the girl as we all ran out, and when the hoodlums came in front, he thought it would be easy. I asked him how he could do such a thing, and his excuse was that he was drunk. He wants to know if you are going to have him arrested, and tries to lay the blame on the Chinaman he calls Little John. Do you intend to put him in jail?""I can't think of a better place for him. How soon can he be moved?""I suppose he ought to be punished. But he has suffered much for his crime, and now appears to be truly repentant. And at best he can not well be moved until next week. Don't you think we might forgive him?""No, I don't. You and Miss Laura might have been killed. I am angrier every time I think of it. Where is she now?""She is with Mr. Kendrick. She has hardly left his side to-day. She gave ten minutes to Moon Ying--it's a blessing that our little protégée is getting able to help herself--and she gave about as much more to looking after the house. The rest of the day she has spent with her uncle.""I should say, then, that it was about time she took some rest.""Well," said Mercy, rising, "I hope you can convince her of it. I'll tell her you are here." And she left me alone.It was ten minutes before the door opened and Miss Kendrick entered. I greeted her with some surprise, for she was dressed as though she had just come in from the street."Oh, you needn't look so astonished," she said, as she gave me her hand with a tired smile. "I haven't been out of the house to-day, so I thought I'd enlist your services as cavalier. I'm dying for a breath of fresh air.""I'm glad to find you with some spirit left. I was afraid you would be dead.""I am," she returned, leading the way out of the door. "But I shall be alive after a little walk. I don't like being a ghost, but it's much more tolerable than one would suppose before trying it."She was in no mood to make conversation, and walked by my side for a while without speaking. But there was such an air of confidence in her manner, such unspoken expression of comradeship in her attitude, that I was content to follow her example and find satisfaction in the silent communion and feel delight at the pressure of her hand upon my arm. We had walked a few blocks thus before she said, with an abruptness that startled me:"Tell me about to-day."I had been thinking of far more agreeable things than business, but I recovered myself from the momentary confusion into which I was thrown, and replied:"It was a very lively day indeed." And, once started, I described, with such entertaining details as I could recall, some of the incidents of our struggle to keep the car of commerce on the track."I didn't mean all that," she said at last. "It's very amusing, but I'm not in the mood to be amused. Neither are you. What I want to know about is uncle's business.""Well, as for that," I replied, "we got through another day safely. We had one or two exceedingly tight pinches, but we wriggled out all right. I guess the worst of it is over, and we shall pull through in good shape."She dropped my arm with an impatient gesture, and I felt a sudden breaking of the current of silent communication that had drawn us together."Won't you tell me just what happened at the office to-day, and just how we stand? Didn't I tell you that I find nothing so terrible as uncertainty? It is the unknown that scares me. Let me see what is before me, and I'll have the courage to face it. Tell me the truth as you would tell it to uncle if you were talking to him instead of to me." Her tone was so pleading that my heart melted within me, and I was shaken with the desire to take her in my arms and tell her that it would be the business of my life to shield her from harm. It was a minute before I had a firm grasp on myself. Then I laid the whole account of Wharton Kendrick's business before her, as fully as I knew it.She heard me soberly, with only a question here and there to clear up the points she did not understand. Then she asked:"The troubles aren't over yet, are they?""No.""And what shall you do to-morrow?""I wish I knew."She reflected a little, and then said:"You can't perform miracles every day. You could not get through another day like to-day, could you?""Not without help from somewhere. But I hope that the worst is over.""Oh, you needn't think I'll blame you if everything goes to pieces. You've done ten times as much as anybody had a right to expect. But there is a limit to the things that can be done, and I know it very well."I tried to speak, but she continued quickly:"Oh, I haven't given up hope. Not a bit of it. But I have to look ahead. That's a part of me. But I won't talk about it if you don't like."At the thought of her anxieties my feelings over-mastered me and I said:"I do like. But I want you to look ahead to something else--to another future than taking care of your uncle's house." My heart thumped in my breast, and I felt a throb in my throat playing strange tricks with my voice. In the instant I thought of all that I had put at stake, and wished I had not begun. But with an effort of will I continued: "I want you to think of another future. I love you more than all the world, and I want you to be my wife."She walked silently by my side, neither increasing her distance nor drawing nearer to me. But she walked on and spoke no word, and I fell into a panic over the boldness that had inspired me to my avowal. We had proceeded thus for two or three blocks before I plucked up the courage to ask:"And what is the answer?"She kept her head down, but replied with a trace of drollery in her tone:"It wasn't a question. And there isn't any answer.""I'll make it a question then."She looked quickly up into my face."It wouldn't do any good if you did. Anybody can ask questions, but it takes a very wise person to answer them.""But," I pleaded, looking into her eyes till she cast them down once more, "it means everything to me, and--""I know all that you would say," she interrupted. "But how can I think of such a thing when I have so much that must be done--so many uncertainties to face?"She laid her hand appealingly on my arm, and looked up into my face again. Then she continued:"My uncle is perhaps dying. I don't have to tell you how all his affairs are in confusion. And you are the friend I have most to look to for help and counsel. You won't take my chiefest reliance away from me, will you?"Her appealing look and tone were too much for me. It was a very quiet place on a very quiet street, and the dusk had fallen almost to darkness; so I yielded to the impulse and stopped and kissed her. She did not resist, but drew a quick breath that was almost a gasp, and lowered her eyes. Then she said quietly:"There--all that is to be put away with the things that were. And you're to think of all you have said as something that came in a dream. And now we'll wake up and look to the serious business of life. It isn't such a very pleasant season of life is it?"Her voice broke a little as she ended and my heart smote me."I hope," I said, "that I don't have to tell you that you can depend on me for every service that I have power to give."She took my arm again with an air of confidence."You are always to be my good friend," she said. "And now we'll go back. It's getting dark, and maybe the fresh air wasn't what I wanted after all. I'm a bit upset."I felt somewhat upset myself. I was certainly left hanging in a most uncertain and unsatisfactory position; but I saw no way to better it, and held my tongue, and wondered with a jealous pang if Baldwin had, after all, won the prize I coveted.We walked on in silence for a time, but at last she suddenly said:"Oh, there was something I was near forgetting to tell you. I've been sitting by uncle, almost all day, and for the most of the time he has lain there more like a log than a man. But sometimes he has talked--not to know what he was saying, you understand--but some ideas are bothering his poor head. I am supposing that they have to do with his business. A dozen times in the day he spoke your name, and seemed to be trying to tell you something. He told it over and over, but the only words I could make out were 'notes,' 'million,' and 'five hundred and sixteen.' The figures seem to mean something to him, for he has repeated them oftener than anything else."She paused for comment, and I submitted my guesses:"The notes are probably those that Peter Bolton presented to-day. The million is roughly the amount we are short in the business, counting the deficit in the syndicate fund. I can't imagine what the 'five hundred and sixteen' can mean. It is not the number of his office, for that is in the four hundred block. There doesn't seem to be anything in the business that it could signify."Laura Kendrick halted me, and looked up in my face."I am not given to intuitions," she said, her tone thrilling with earnestness, "but I have one now. As sure as you stand there, uncle made provision for paying the notes and raising the rest of the money you have had to find, and the number 'five hundred and sixteen' has something to do with it. Find the five hundred and sixteen and you'll find the million dollars." And with a nod of conviction she walked forward once more."It may be one of the banks," I ventured to suggest, "but I can't remember that any of them are at that number.""Mightn't it be the place of business of some friend, where he has left this money?"I shook my head at this improbable guess, and turned the problem over in my mind without result. Then I ventured to propose that I should see Wharton Kendrick."My presence might stir his thoughts to some more definite speech," I argued."Well, I'll let you in for just a minute. But Doctor Roberts said that nothing must be done to excite him, and I don't know as it is right to take the risk."In a few minutes we were in the sick-room where Wharton Kendrick lay. His large frame was motionless, except for his breathing. His face was flushed, and the lines of strength and power that it bore in health had faded into expressionless weakness."He is like this for the greater part of the time," said Laura; "yet I have the feeling that under it all he is conscious of what is going on about him, and I do everything just as if I were sure that he could hear and see."It was beyond all bounds of probability, yet at the conceit a sudden thought came into my mind."If you should be right, he must be horribly worried about his affairs. I'll just say a word to relieve his mind." Then speaking slowly and distinctly I gave a brief account of the course of the markets, dwelt on the success of the syndicate in sustaining the business fabric, and hinted at the need for more money on the morrow.There was no physical response. If there was an intelligent brain in that inert body, it found no servant at its call among the flaccid muscles, and not even the moving of an eyelid gave sign that I was understood. Yet as I spoke, there came somewhere in my consciousness the conviction that I was heard, and that my words had brought relief to an overstrained mind.Laura Kendrick looked quickly from the face of her uncle to mine, and a sudden light sprang into her eyes."You felt it, too," she said."Yes.""You have done good; but you mustn't stay here any longer. Don't leave the house, though, unless you have to. I shall be afraid when you are gone."As she opened the door to banish me from the sick-room, a servant had just raised his hand to tap at the panel."What is it?" she asked."A man to see Mr. Hampden. I took him into the library."CHAPTER XXVIIA CALL TO ARMSI followed the servant and was surprised to find Clark uneasily seated on the edge of a cushioned chair, nervously twisting his hat, and looking as though he was afraid he was going to break something."I'm sorry to bother you here," he said awkwardly, "but things have come to a head.""What is it now? Do you think that to-night's meeting is going to make more trouble than the other one did?""Well, no, sir. The meeting don't amount to much. To tell you the truth, sir, the meeting is only a blind. Parks got out the notices, and he's going to make a speech. But he's the only one of the Council's people who will be there. The others are down at headquarters getting ready for the real work of the night.""The real work? What do you mean by that?""Well, the truth of the business is," said Clark, "that the rifle clubs are to be called out to-night. Orders have gone out to all the Council's clubs to assemble at eleven. At twelve they will be given their guns, and then they will be sent out to seize the city. One company is to take possession of the City Hall; another will take the Committee of Safety's headquarters; and others the National Guard Armories, the Mint, the Subtreasury, and so on.""Are they crazy? Why, the Committee of Safety has fifteen thousand men enrolled by this time.""Crazy? Not a bit of it," protested Clark warmly. "The Committee of Safety won't have any leaders or any guns left by to-morrow. Coleman, and Mayor Bryant, and General McComb, and every man of the Committee of Twenty-Four will be under lock and key before morning if something isn't done about it. They all go home to sleep, and there isn't a man of 'em that's thought of having a guard about his house. They'll all be taken like rats in a trap. Then where's the Committee of Safety and the militia? They'll be without leaders and without guns, and what'll they do? They'll scatter like sheep. The whole scheme has been worked out like the plans for a building, and if the Council isn't stopped before twelve you'll wake up to-morrow morning under a new government.""Nonsense!" I said. "They can't do that.""All right," said Clark, with a hurt and offended look, "they can't, then. But it was my duty, sir, to warn you, and I've done it, so I'll be going.""I beg your pardon, Clark," I said hastily. "I didn't mean to doubt your word or hurt your feelings. You've done quite right in coming here, and it's my business to see that they don't carry out their crazy schemes. Wait a minute, and I'll walk along down with you."I had a hurried word with Laura Kendrick, and explained to her the importance of the information Clark had brought, and the necessity of laying it promptly before the Committee of Safety.She looked up at me with some apprehension in her eyes."Well, if you must, you must," she said. "But don't you get into any mobs or into any fighting. Just remember that it's the man who orders somebody else to do his fighting that gets the glory out of it. If there's any trouble, see that you're one of the orderers instead of one of the ordered."I laughed at her anxious counsel, and promising to use all the caution with which nature had endowed me, I joined Clark and left the house.Directing Clark to attend the sand-lot meeting and to get word to Andrews at once if the mob should head for the Kendrick house, I caught a car and rode to the headquarters of the Committee of Safety.Horticultural Hall resembled a beehive on swarming day. Wealth and poverty were represented side by side. Merchants, workmen, lawyers, doctors, laborers rubbed elbows, and their stern and serious faces testified to the depth of feeling that had brought them out to the defense of the city. It was an outburst of the same spirit that had given birth to the nation, and had again called forth vast armies to preserve it when its existence was threatened by civil war.At the end of the hall a number of desks had been arranged where enrolment was still in progress. Behind the desks was a platform, and as I approached it I saw William T. Coleman walk briskly to the speaker's stand."Three cheers for Coleman!" came the cry from a strong-lunged Vigilante, and three cheers were given with a will.The president of the Committee raised his hand to command silence."Fellow-citizens:" he cried in a full, resonant voice. "You have come here to fight--not to talk or cheer. We find a mob spirit abroad, very dangerous to the peace and order of the city. It is your business to put that spirit down. For this purpose you are clothed with all the powers of police officers. The mayor has issued his proclamation, commanding disorderly persons to disperse, and it is our part to see that this proclamation is obeyed. You have behind you the armed force of the State and Nation. But it should be a part of your pride as San Franciscans that this force should not be needed for your protection. The people have shown on former occasions that they were able to protect themselves. Show now that your courage and self-reliance have not degenerated in twenty years."There was a warm response to this exhortation, and, at a sign from Coleman, the adjutants began calling forward the companies, and despatching them to their work."Captain Korbel!" called the commanding voice of the adjutant at the desk nearest us."Here!" came the reply in a strong German accent, and a man with energetic face stepped out from a company of twenty men."You will patrol Mission Street, from Sixth to Twelfth. Keep the street clear of all persons having no business there. If they resist, put them under arrest, and turn them over to the police at the Southern Station. Get your arms from that pile.""So ist righdt," said the captain, and giving a salute he marched his company to the west side of the hall where a great number of pick-handles that had been sawn in two, base-ball bats, and wagon spokes, had been arranged in convenient stacks. Each man of the company picked up a club, balanced it in his hand, and brought it down on the head of an imaginary hoodlum with the solemnity of a prepared ritual. Then at the word of command the company marched out while others were receiving their orders from the desks of the adjutants.I had observed this lively scene with but half an eye, shouldering my way forward to meet William T. Coleman as he descended from the platform. He had talked for a little with some member of the Committee, but as he came down the steps on his way to the side room that served as a private office, I hailed him. He looked up quickly, and his face changed as he caught sight of me."Is Kendrick dead?" he asked anxiously."No. He is still unconscious, but living.""What is the trouble, then?" he asked, looking keenly into my eyes. "You have bad news."Then before I could reply, he said, "Come in here," and led me into the private office. "Now let's hear about it," he said."The Council of Nine is ready to use its rifles," I replied. And I gave with rapid phrases the tale of the imminent revolution as it had come from Clark.William T. Coleman listened with a rapt attention that showed he took the warning more seriously than I had taken it."Then we have till midnight," he said, after he had digested the information."My informant said that the rifle clubs are ordered to assemble at eleven o'clock."He looked out of the window into the darkness; then he turned to me again."It will never do to let those men come together with arms in their hands. That would mean bloodshed--terrible bloodshed. I am using every effort to prevent an appeal to arms. I have refused to call for the militia. The National Guard is under arms, but I have a promise from Bryant that he will not ask for it until I give the word. I have refused an offer of Federal troops from the Presidio. I have a note from the admiral that the marines and sailors at Mare Island have been put under arms, and that the Pensacola is ready to take a position that will command the city. But I have refused to permit them to be summoned. I shall never summon them except as a last resort. It is an awful thing to have men shot down, and the memory of such an affair would be a lasting stain on the city.""It would be sad to have innocent men killed," I said; "but I shouldn't weep over the loss of some of those demons I saw raiding wash-houses and trying to kill Wharton Kendrick. The world would be better off without them.""Do not judge them too hastily," said Coleman quickly. "Civilization is at best only skin-deep. Scratch the civilized man, and you find the wild beast. It takes a little deeper scratch to find it in some men than in others; but it is there. You and I think ourselves well-balanced, Hampden, yet I have seen men of our nature turn into ferocious beasts. I pray God I may never see the like again. These men you saw in the shape of demons the other night may be good citizens in quiet times. Thank God, young man, for government. It is the blessing of organized society--of organized government--that keeps the wild beast behind bars." He spoke with feeling, yet with the philosophic calm of the lecturer on law, and he impressed me profoundly with his momentary unveiling of a broad and tolerant mind. Then he became the man of affairs again."Do you know where to find the headquarters of the Council?" he asked."Yes.""Do you know these men by sight?""I believe I can recognize eight of the nine.""Well, then, I shall have to ask you to go down to the Council's headquarters at once, and arrest the leaders of the movement. You will have the honor of ending the uprising before it has begun."CHAPTER XXVIIIWITH THE PICK-HANDLE BRIGADEIf I had stopped to consider how fully the safety of Wharton Kendrick--to say nothing of his niece--depended upon me, I should perhaps have found courage to decline the dangerous mission. But William T. Coleman's commanding eye was upon me; and after a gulp to moisten my dry throat, I replied with an attempt to put a cheerful spirit into my voice:"Very well; but I'd like to take a man or two along--merely as a guaranty to the Council that I'm not joking."Coleman smiled."Oh, I didn't expect you to go alone. Take as many men as you like. Will twenty be enough?"I thought so."Well, then, here are a dozen John Doe warrants. They will be your authority for whatever you may find it necessary to do in arresting these men. Now come out here and pick your company."He led the way to the main hall, glanced over the throng that still pervaded it, and cried in a resonant voice:"Volunteers wanted for dangerous service."His discouraging form of statement did not dismay all of the company before him. At least fifty men stepped forward at the call."Take your pick," said Coleman with a wave of his hand. "If they haven't revolvers, I will supply them. You'd better take the clubs for ordinary service."I selected a score of men whose faces showed vigor and determination, looked to their arms, directed them to the pile of pick-handles, and when each man had satisfied himself of the virtue of his weapon by knocking down an imaginary enemy, I led the way to the street."Where are we going?" asked one of the men with the easy familiarity of the volunteer."Secret service," I replied. "Don't make any more noise than you have to." If we were to arrest the conspirators without bloodshed it was necessary to take them by surprise, and we approached their meeting-place with as much caution as I could contrive.The House of Blazes blinked more furtively than ever on the darkness. The outer door was but half opened, and the lights within burned but dimly. Yet a faint murmur that thrilled the air gave warning of many voices in converse, and stray gleams of light from the shuttered windows above bore ample witness to the fact that there was hidden activity in the den of the revolutionists.I posted a number of men in position to prevent escape through the windows, and instructed the remainder to await my signal outside the main entrance. Then pushing open the swinging door, I entered the saloon.The long room was almost deserted. A man in an apparent stupor sat with his head on a table in the dim light at the farther end of the place. Another lay on a bench snoring in drowsy intoxication. A short, round-faced young fellow with a dirty white apron stood behind the bar, and looked up with cheerful expectancy as I entered."Take me to the Council," I said peremptorily. "I am just from Mr. Parks.""The Council!" stammered the man. "I don't--I don't know what you mean."At the sound of my voice, the fat pasty face of H. Blasius appeared through the doorway at the right of the bar."Ah, Meestaire--Meestaire--friend of Park," he said, recognizing me and coming forward. "I salute a brozaire in arms." And he would have embraced me but for my nimbleness in avoiding his odious clutch."I have come for orders," I said. "I must see the Council.""Ah," he cried, "you have come to give your ar-rms to ze inauguration of ze gr-rand r-revolution." And he rolled out his "r's" in a way to make the revolution very grand indeed."I have brought more than my arms," I said. "I have the first company of our troops outside.""Mon Dieu!" he cried, his pasty face growing paler, and his blinking eyes opening wider in alarm. "Mon Dieu! You have come mooch too soon. Ze police will cast ze blow of an eye upon zem, ze alar-rm will sound, and Zip! away goes ze chance of winning by surprise.""That's so," I exclaimed, with the accent of one overwhelmed at conviction of a lack of judgment. "I will bring my men in and march them up to the Council-room where they can lie hid till the hour comes.""Non! non!" cried H. Blasius in alarm. "No one can go to ze Council-room. Zere is no Council-room." His old distrust had overcome the alcoholic enthusiasm with which he had received me, and his eyes blinked cunningly upon me. Then he gave an apprehensive glance at the door by which he had entered, and I was confirmed in the suspicion that it led to the rooms of the conspirators."Well, if you won't take me up, I must go by myself. My business must be laid before the Council at once." And I moved with determination toward the suspected door.H. Blasius placed himself in the way with arms outstretched."Non--non!" he cried. "You can notentrezwizout zemot d'ordre--ze password.""Give it to me, then," I demanded. "You are delaying the Council's business."He was overawed a little by my authoritative tone, but before he could bring his tongue to answer me, the barkeeper accidentally dropped a glass on the floor, and the men whom I had stationed at the door, mistaking the crash for the sounds of conflict, rushed in to my rescue."The Vigilantes!" cried the barkeeper in dismay, at the sight of the badges and the pick-handles."Mon Dieu!we are betrayed!" cried H. Blasius, whirling around with a step toward the door that led to the Council-room.I divined his purpose. He was bent on warning the conspirators. With one bound I had him by the collar, and with a fierce wrench dragged him back and flung him against the bar, spluttering inarticulate protests.The barkeeper had seized a revolver, but before he could raise it, he was in the hands of my men. He submitted without resistance and with the cheerful spirit of one to whom the outcome is a matter of small importance."Keep that man quiet," I said, with the hope that the noise of struggle had not reached the Council-room. Then I gripped H. Blasius by his fat throat."Give me the countersign!" I demanded.He gave a scream of terror and dropped to his knees."Have pity--do not keel me.Mon Dieu! I am one good citizen. I make no plots wiz ze r-revolutionists.""The countersign," I repeated grimly, tightening my grip on his throat, while two of my assistants reinforced my argument by prodding him in the sides with their sticks."Leeberty--leeberty or deat',"--Mr. H. Blasius pronounced it "debt"--"zat is ze countersign," he gasped through his constricted windpipe. And assured by his eyes that he was telling the truth, I flung him into the arms of my men."Shut off his wind if he tries to give a warning," I said, and with a word I picked a squad from my company and gave them brief instructions:"Follow me up the stairs. Don't make a noise. And when I give the signal push me through the door."A dim illumination filtered through a ground-glass transom at the top of the stairway, and the murmur of voices that floated down gave evidence that a busy meeting was in progress.I walked up the stairs with bold step, and my men crept cautiously after me. At the top was a landing, large enough to hold my squad, and I signed to them to collect behind me. Then I gave three resounding blows on the door--a compelling summons that I had learned as a lawyer's clerk in serving papers on unwilling defendants. There is some mystic virtue in the slow triple knock that brings the most wary from their holes. At my rap there was a sudden hush of voices. Then some one by the door cried:"Who is there?""A friend you are expecting.""If you are a friend, give the countersign.""Liberty or Death."At this reply the door opened cautiously for a few inches, and a man peeped through the crack."Now!" I cried. And with the force of six men behind me I shot forward, flung the door wide open, and sent its guardian sprawling backward, as I was projected a dozen feet into the Council-room. The room was large, and around a large table in front of a pulpit-like platform sat twelve or fifteen men. The Council and its advisers were in session.At my unceremonious entrance the conspirators gave a prompt exhibition of their qualities. Waldorf, Reddick and Seabert sprang to their feet, and their hands went to their pockets with the evident purpose of drawing their revolvers. Others ran from side to side of the room, wildly seeking some way of escape. Two crawled under the table. The rest remained motionless in their chairs, looking with dull apprehension at our sudden irruption.There were more of the conspirators than I had reckoned on meeting. But we had the advantage of surprise, and signing to two of my men to hold the door, I walked calmly forward with the others."Gentlemen," I said to the startled group, "you are under arrest.""The devil we are!" cried Waldorf, snatching a revolver out of his pocket and snapping it at me.There was a deafening report, and a bullet clipped my ear, but before Waldorf could raise the hammer a second time a rap from a pick-handle laid him sprawling limply across the table. Reddick's weapon was knocked from his hand with a blow that broke his wrist. Seabert was seized and thrown before he could get his revolver out of his pocket, and a fiery little German in spectacles, who shot a hole in his coat in an excited attempt to draw his weapon, fell limply to the floor and squirmed like a shot rabbit at a skull-cracking stroke from a Vigilante's club.It was after all but a tame affair. For men who were planning to seize a city and overturn a nation, there was an absurdly small supply of fighting blood among them. The sprawling figure of Waldorf, lying face upward on the table with the blood trickling over his forehead, the fiery German in a limp heap on the floor, and the sight of Reddick and Seabert disabled, took all the fight out of the rest of the company. They submitted without resistance to be searched, disarmed and bound."Where are the rifles?" I demanded, when these preliminaries had been completed."Don't know of any rifles," said Seabert sullenly. "Never had any."The arrested company at once became unanimous on this point. There were never any rifles in their possession. They became so insistent in the denial that I jumped to the conclusion that the arms could not be far away, and looked about for their hiding-place. The ornamental work behind the platform and about the hall gave opportunity for concealed doorways and false partitions, but when they were sounded none could be uncovered."There's room for them under that platform," I said at last; and by the falling countenances of the conspirators I saw that I had hit upon the hiding-place.The flooring was ripped off the platform, and we uncovered something more than four hundred rifles with a well-filled cartridge-belt strapped to each. Encouraged by this success we ransacked the place to discover the rest of the Council's armament, but had at last to give it up with the conclusion that the remainder of the thousand guns had already been distributed to the clubs.A messenger sent in haste to the headquarters of the Committee of Safety brought a train of express-wagons with orders to hurry the arms and ammunition to Horticultural Hall, and send the prisoners to the City Prison and Receiving Hospital. And stationing a guard to receive any of the revolutionary spirits who might come seeking the Council's instructions, I set off for the headquarters of the Committee of Safety. The House of Blazes, as I took my last look at it, seemed smothered in an atmosphere of angry discomfiture, as it scowled at us from its blinking windows, fit tomb of the evil purposes it had harbored.
CHAPTER XXVI
ON THE PRECIPICE
The air of gloom that enveloped Wharton Kendrick's home was almost physical in its intensity. It was with apprehension that I awaited the opening of the door, and it was with anxious eagerness that I looked to Mercy Fillmore as she stood behind the servant who answered my ring.
"Oh, Mr. Hampden," she exclaimed, as she advanced and gave me her hand, "I have been wishing you would come."
I was gratified at the tone of relief and confidence with which she spoke, but my response was to ask of the condition of Wharton Kendrick.
"He is still out of his head," she replied, dropping into a seat. "Sometimes he talks a little--a few broken words--but most of the time he lies there silent, with vacant eyes. If it were not for his heavy breathing we should hardly know that he was alive." Her sympathetic face was filled with concern as she spoke.
"What does the doctor say?"
"He tries to look cheerful and speak confidently, but it is such an effort, I am afraid. Yet for Laura's sake I hope, and try to be convinced by the doctor's words." Then she added quickly: "I said I wanted to see you. Mr. Parks was here to-day. We had a long talk, and truly, Mr. Hampden, I want you to believe that he is a man of noble impulses. He is so unselfish, so eager for the good of others."
"I don't complain about his instincts. His heart is in the right place, as the saying goes, but his head is upside down."
"Oh, Mr. Hampden, you do not understand him!" said Mercy in a pained voice.
"Perhaps not; but surely he has not convinced you that he is wise to engage in such desperate enterprises as the overthrow of the government?"
Mercy was silent a little, and then she said:
"I should be glad if he could see some other way to work for the good of the people, but I am not wise myself, so how can I judge him? He tells me that it is not right to reason from womanly fears. Do you think he is in danger, Mr. Hampden? He is planning some important enterprise for to-night. Is there anything we can do to save him?"
My private opinion was that Parks would end by getting shot or thrown into jail. But I could not pain Mercy with any such brutal statements, so I soothed her fears as best I could. "We can't influence him to keep out of the movement," I said, "but ten to one it won't amount to anything but a lot of oratory, and hard words break no bones. You have no cause to worry about him."
"Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," said Mercy, looking relieved. "And now I want to tell you about Danny Regan. You know that Moon Ying recognized him as that old Chinaman's express-man?"
"Yes. She told me."
"Well, I talked to him until he confessed the whole plot to me. It began last week, after a good deal of bargaining, when he agreed to steal the girl. He came late one night with two others, and thought there would be nobody watching the house. But your men surprised them coming over the fence, and caught Danny's friend. He is the sergeant-at-arms of an anti-coolie club, he said. Danny and the other one got away. Then Danny came around in the daytime, and pretended to be a tramp, and got something to eat and talked everything out of the cook. She told him all about Moon Ying, and where she slept, and Danny raised a company to attack the house. He was going to set it on fire, and capture the girl as we all ran out, and when the hoodlums came in front, he thought it would be easy. I asked him how he could do such a thing, and his excuse was that he was drunk. He wants to know if you are going to have him arrested, and tries to lay the blame on the Chinaman he calls Little John. Do you intend to put him in jail?"
"I can't think of a better place for him. How soon can he be moved?"
"I suppose he ought to be punished. But he has suffered much for his crime, and now appears to be truly repentant. And at best he can not well be moved until next week. Don't you think we might forgive him?"
"No, I don't. You and Miss Laura might have been killed. I am angrier every time I think of it. Where is she now?"
"She is with Mr. Kendrick. She has hardly left his side to-day. She gave ten minutes to Moon Ying--it's a blessing that our little protégée is getting able to help herself--and she gave about as much more to looking after the house. The rest of the day she has spent with her uncle."
"I should say, then, that it was about time she took some rest."
"Well," said Mercy, rising, "I hope you can convince her of it. I'll tell her you are here." And she left me alone.
It was ten minutes before the door opened and Miss Kendrick entered. I greeted her with some surprise, for she was dressed as though she had just come in from the street.
"Oh, you needn't look so astonished," she said, as she gave me her hand with a tired smile. "I haven't been out of the house to-day, so I thought I'd enlist your services as cavalier. I'm dying for a breath of fresh air."
"I'm glad to find you with some spirit left. I was afraid you would be dead."
"I am," she returned, leading the way out of the door. "But I shall be alive after a little walk. I don't like being a ghost, but it's much more tolerable than one would suppose before trying it."
She was in no mood to make conversation, and walked by my side for a while without speaking. But there was such an air of confidence in her manner, such unspoken expression of comradeship in her attitude, that I was content to follow her example and find satisfaction in the silent communion and feel delight at the pressure of her hand upon my arm. We had walked a few blocks thus before she said, with an abruptness that startled me:
"Tell me about to-day."
I had been thinking of far more agreeable things than business, but I recovered myself from the momentary confusion into which I was thrown, and replied:
"It was a very lively day indeed." And, once started, I described, with such entertaining details as I could recall, some of the incidents of our struggle to keep the car of commerce on the track.
"I didn't mean all that," she said at last. "It's very amusing, but I'm not in the mood to be amused. Neither are you. What I want to know about is uncle's business."
"Well, as for that," I replied, "we got through another day safely. We had one or two exceedingly tight pinches, but we wriggled out all right. I guess the worst of it is over, and we shall pull through in good shape."
She dropped my arm with an impatient gesture, and I felt a sudden breaking of the current of silent communication that had drawn us together.
"Won't you tell me just what happened at the office to-day, and just how we stand? Didn't I tell you that I find nothing so terrible as uncertainty? It is the unknown that scares me. Let me see what is before me, and I'll have the courage to face it. Tell me the truth as you would tell it to uncle if you were talking to him instead of to me." Her tone was so pleading that my heart melted within me, and I was shaken with the desire to take her in my arms and tell her that it would be the business of my life to shield her from harm. It was a minute before I had a firm grasp on myself. Then I laid the whole account of Wharton Kendrick's business before her, as fully as I knew it.
She heard me soberly, with only a question here and there to clear up the points she did not understand. Then she asked:
"The troubles aren't over yet, are they?"
"No."
"And what shall you do to-morrow?"
"I wish I knew."
She reflected a little, and then said:
"You can't perform miracles every day. You could not get through another day like to-day, could you?"
"Not without help from somewhere. But I hope that the worst is over."
"Oh, you needn't think I'll blame you if everything goes to pieces. You've done ten times as much as anybody had a right to expect. But there is a limit to the things that can be done, and I know it very well."
I tried to speak, but she continued quickly:
"Oh, I haven't given up hope. Not a bit of it. But I have to look ahead. That's a part of me. But I won't talk about it if you don't like."
At the thought of her anxieties my feelings over-mastered me and I said:
"I do like. But I want you to look ahead to something else--to another future than taking care of your uncle's house." My heart thumped in my breast, and I felt a throb in my throat playing strange tricks with my voice. In the instant I thought of all that I had put at stake, and wished I had not begun. But with an effort of will I continued: "I want you to think of another future. I love you more than all the world, and I want you to be my wife."
She walked silently by my side, neither increasing her distance nor drawing nearer to me. But she walked on and spoke no word, and I fell into a panic over the boldness that had inspired me to my avowal. We had proceeded thus for two or three blocks before I plucked up the courage to ask:
"And what is the answer?"
She kept her head down, but replied with a trace of drollery in her tone:
"It wasn't a question. And there isn't any answer."
"I'll make it a question then."
She looked quickly up into my face.
"It wouldn't do any good if you did. Anybody can ask questions, but it takes a very wise person to answer them."
"But," I pleaded, looking into her eyes till she cast them down once more, "it means everything to me, and--"
"I know all that you would say," she interrupted. "But how can I think of such a thing when I have so much that must be done--so many uncertainties to face?"
She laid her hand appealingly on my arm, and looked up into my face again. Then she continued:
"My uncle is perhaps dying. I don't have to tell you how all his affairs are in confusion. And you are the friend I have most to look to for help and counsel. You won't take my chiefest reliance away from me, will you?"
Her appealing look and tone were too much for me. It was a very quiet place on a very quiet street, and the dusk had fallen almost to darkness; so I yielded to the impulse and stopped and kissed her. She did not resist, but drew a quick breath that was almost a gasp, and lowered her eyes. Then she said quietly:
"There--all that is to be put away with the things that were. And you're to think of all you have said as something that came in a dream. And now we'll wake up and look to the serious business of life. It isn't such a very pleasant season of life is it?"
Her voice broke a little as she ended and my heart smote me.
"I hope," I said, "that I don't have to tell you that you can depend on me for every service that I have power to give."
She took my arm again with an air of confidence.
"You are always to be my good friend," she said. "And now we'll go back. It's getting dark, and maybe the fresh air wasn't what I wanted after all. I'm a bit upset."
I felt somewhat upset myself. I was certainly left hanging in a most uncertain and unsatisfactory position; but I saw no way to better it, and held my tongue, and wondered with a jealous pang if Baldwin had, after all, won the prize I coveted.
We walked on in silence for a time, but at last she suddenly said:
"Oh, there was something I was near forgetting to tell you. I've been sitting by uncle, almost all day, and for the most of the time he has lain there more like a log than a man. But sometimes he has talked--not to know what he was saying, you understand--but some ideas are bothering his poor head. I am supposing that they have to do with his business. A dozen times in the day he spoke your name, and seemed to be trying to tell you something. He told it over and over, but the only words I could make out were 'notes,' 'million,' and 'five hundred and sixteen.' The figures seem to mean something to him, for he has repeated them oftener than anything else."
She paused for comment, and I submitted my guesses:
"The notes are probably those that Peter Bolton presented to-day. The million is roughly the amount we are short in the business, counting the deficit in the syndicate fund. I can't imagine what the 'five hundred and sixteen' can mean. It is not the number of his office, for that is in the four hundred block. There doesn't seem to be anything in the business that it could signify."
Laura Kendrick halted me, and looked up in my face.
"I am not given to intuitions," she said, her tone thrilling with earnestness, "but I have one now. As sure as you stand there, uncle made provision for paying the notes and raising the rest of the money you have had to find, and the number 'five hundred and sixteen' has something to do with it. Find the five hundred and sixteen and you'll find the million dollars." And with a nod of conviction she walked forward once more.
"It may be one of the banks," I ventured to suggest, "but I can't remember that any of them are at that number."
"Mightn't it be the place of business of some friend, where he has left this money?"
I shook my head at this improbable guess, and turned the problem over in my mind without result. Then I ventured to propose that I should see Wharton Kendrick.
"My presence might stir his thoughts to some more definite speech," I argued.
"Well, I'll let you in for just a minute. But Doctor Roberts said that nothing must be done to excite him, and I don't know as it is right to take the risk."
In a few minutes we were in the sick-room where Wharton Kendrick lay. His large frame was motionless, except for his breathing. His face was flushed, and the lines of strength and power that it bore in health had faded into expressionless weakness.
"He is like this for the greater part of the time," said Laura; "yet I have the feeling that under it all he is conscious of what is going on about him, and I do everything just as if I were sure that he could hear and see."
It was beyond all bounds of probability, yet at the conceit a sudden thought came into my mind.
"If you should be right, he must be horribly worried about his affairs. I'll just say a word to relieve his mind." Then speaking slowly and distinctly I gave a brief account of the course of the markets, dwelt on the success of the syndicate in sustaining the business fabric, and hinted at the need for more money on the morrow.
There was no physical response. If there was an intelligent brain in that inert body, it found no servant at its call among the flaccid muscles, and not even the moving of an eyelid gave sign that I was understood. Yet as I spoke, there came somewhere in my consciousness the conviction that I was heard, and that my words had brought relief to an overstrained mind.
Laura Kendrick looked quickly from the face of her uncle to mine, and a sudden light sprang into her eyes.
"You felt it, too," she said.
"Yes."
"You have done good; but you mustn't stay here any longer. Don't leave the house, though, unless you have to. I shall be afraid when you are gone."
As she opened the door to banish me from the sick-room, a servant had just raised his hand to tap at the panel.
"What is it?" she asked.
"A man to see Mr. Hampden. I took him into the library."
CHAPTER XXVII
A CALL TO ARMS
I followed the servant and was surprised to find Clark uneasily seated on the edge of a cushioned chair, nervously twisting his hat, and looking as though he was afraid he was going to break something.
"I'm sorry to bother you here," he said awkwardly, "but things have come to a head."
"What is it now? Do you think that to-night's meeting is going to make more trouble than the other one did?"
"Well, no, sir. The meeting don't amount to much. To tell you the truth, sir, the meeting is only a blind. Parks got out the notices, and he's going to make a speech. But he's the only one of the Council's people who will be there. The others are down at headquarters getting ready for the real work of the night."
"The real work? What do you mean by that?"
"Well, the truth of the business is," said Clark, "that the rifle clubs are to be called out to-night. Orders have gone out to all the Council's clubs to assemble at eleven. At twelve they will be given their guns, and then they will be sent out to seize the city. One company is to take possession of the City Hall; another will take the Committee of Safety's headquarters; and others the National Guard Armories, the Mint, the Subtreasury, and so on."
"Are they crazy? Why, the Committee of Safety has fifteen thousand men enrolled by this time."
"Crazy? Not a bit of it," protested Clark warmly. "The Committee of Safety won't have any leaders or any guns left by to-morrow. Coleman, and Mayor Bryant, and General McComb, and every man of the Committee of Twenty-Four will be under lock and key before morning if something isn't done about it. They all go home to sleep, and there isn't a man of 'em that's thought of having a guard about his house. They'll all be taken like rats in a trap. Then where's the Committee of Safety and the militia? They'll be without leaders and without guns, and what'll they do? They'll scatter like sheep. The whole scheme has been worked out like the plans for a building, and if the Council isn't stopped before twelve you'll wake up to-morrow morning under a new government."
"Nonsense!" I said. "They can't do that."
"All right," said Clark, with a hurt and offended look, "they can't, then. But it was my duty, sir, to warn you, and I've done it, so I'll be going."
"I beg your pardon, Clark," I said hastily. "I didn't mean to doubt your word or hurt your feelings. You've done quite right in coming here, and it's my business to see that they don't carry out their crazy schemes. Wait a minute, and I'll walk along down with you."
I had a hurried word with Laura Kendrick, and explained to her the importance of the information Clark had brought, and the necessity of laying it promptly before the Committee of Safety.
She looked up at me with some apprehension in her eyes.
"Well, if you must, you must," she said. "But don't you get into any mobs or into any fighting. Just remember that it's the man who orders somebody else to do his fighting that gets the glory out of it. If there's any trouble, see that you're one of the orderers instead of one of the ordered."
I laughed at her anxious counsel, and promising to use all the caution with which nature had endowed me, I joined Clark and left the house.
Directing Clark to attend the sand-lot meeting and to get word to Andrews at once if the mob should head for the Kendrick house, I caught a car and rode to the headquarters of the Committee of Safety.
Horticultural Hall resembled a beehive on swarming day. Wealth and poverty were represented side by side. Merchants, workmen, lawyers, doctors, laborers rubbed elbows, and their stern and serious faces testified to the depth of feeling that had brought them out to the defense of the city. It was an outburst of the same spirit that had given birth to the nation, and had again called forth vast armies to preserve it when its existence was threatened by civil war.
At the end of the hall a number of desks had been arranged where enrolment was still in progress. Behind the desks was a platform, and as I approached it I saw William T. Coleman walk briskly to the speaker's stand.
"Three cheers for Coleman!" came the cry from a strong-lunged Vigilante, and three cheers were given with a will.
The president of the Committee raised his hand to command silence.
"Fellow-citizens:" he cried in a full, resonant voice. "You have come here to fight--not to talk or cheer. We find a mob spirit abroad, very dangerous to the peace and order of the city. It is your business to put that spirit down. For this purpose you are clothed with all the powers of police officers. The mayor has issued his proclamation, commanding disorderly persons to disperse, and it is our part to see that this proclamation is obeyed. You have behind you the armed force of the State and Nation. But it should be a part of your pride as San Franciscans that this force should not be needed for your protection. The people have shown on former occasions that they were able to protect themselves. Show now that your courage and self-reliance have not degenerated in twenty years."
There was a warm response to this exhortation, and, at a sign from Coleman, the adjutants began calling forward the companies, and despatching them to their work.
"Captain Korbel!" called the commanding voice of the adjutant at the desk nearest us.
"Here!" came the reply in a strong German accent, and a man with energetic face stepped out from a company of twenty men.
"You will patrol Mission Street, from Sixth to Twelfth. Keep the street clear of all persons having no business there. If they resist, put them under arrest, and turn them over to the police at the Southern Station. Get your arms from that pile."
"So ist righdt," said the captain, and giving a salute he marched his company to the west side of the hall where a great number of pick-handles that had been sawn in two, base-ball bats, and wagon spokes, had been arranged in convenient stacks. Each man of the company picked up a club, balanced it in his hand, and brought it down on the head of an imaginary hoodlum with the solemnity of a prepared ritual. Then at the word of command the company marched out while others were receiving their orders from the desks of the adjutants.
I had observed this lively scene with but half an eye, shouldering my way forward to meet William T. Coleman as he descended from the platform. He had talked for a little with some member of the Committee, but as he came down the steps on his way to the side room that served as a private office, I hailed him. He looked up quickly, and his face changed as he caught sight of me.
"Is Kendrick dead?" he asked anxiously.
"No. He is still unconscious, but living."
"What is the trouble, then?" he asked, looking keenly into my eyes. "You have bad news."
Then before I could reply, he said, "Come in here," and led me into the private office. "Now let's hear about it," he said.
"The Council of Nine is ready to use its rifles," I replied. And I gave with rapid phrases the tale of the imminent revolution as it had come from Clark.
William T. Coleman listened with a rapt attention that showed he took the warning more seriously than I had taken it.
"Then we have till midnight," he said, after he had digested the information.
"My informant said that the rifle clubs are ordered to assemble at eleven o'clock."
He looked out of the window into the darkness; then he turned to me again.
"It will never do to let those men come together with arms in their hands. That would mean bloodshed--terrible bloodshed. I am using every effort to prevent an appeal to arms. I have refused to call for the militia. The National Guard is under arms, but I have a promise from Bryant that he will not ask for it until I give the word. I have refused an offer of Federal troops from the Presidio. I have a note from the admiral that the marines and sailors at Mare Island have been put under arms, and that the Pensacola is ready to take a position that will command the city. But I have refused to permit them to be summoned. I shall never summon them except as a last resort. It is an awful thing to have men shot down, and the memory of such an affair would be a lasting stain on the city."
"It would be sad to have innocent men killed," I said; "but I shouldn't weep over the loss of some of those demons I saw raiding wash-houses and trying to kill Wharton Kendrick. The world would be better off without them."
"Do not judge them too hastily," said Coleman quickly. "Civilization is at best only skin-deep. Scratch the civilized man, and you find the wild beast. It takes a little deeper scratch to find it in some men than in others; but it is there. You and I think ourselves well-balanced, Hampden, yet I have seen men of our nature turn into ferocious beasts. I pray God I may never see the like again. These men you saw in the shape of demons the other night may be good citizens in quiet times. Thank God, young man, for government. It is the blessing of organized society--of organized government--that keeps the wild beast behind bars." He spoke with feeling, yet with the philosophic calm of the lecturer on law, and he impressed me profoundly with his momentary unveiling of a broad and tolerant mind. Then he became the man of affairs again.
"Do you know where to find the headquarters of the Council?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do you know these men by sight?"
"I believe I can recognize eight of the nine."
"Well, then, I shall have to ask you to go down to the Council's headquarters at once, and arrest the leaders of the movement. You will have the honor of ending the uprising before it has begun."
CHAPTER XXVIII
WITH THE PICK-HANDLE BRIGADE
If I had stopped to consider how fully the safety of Wharton Kendrick--to say nothing of his niece--depended upon me, I should perhaps have found courage to decline the dangerous mission. But William T. Coleman's commanding eye was upon me; and after a gulp to moisten my dry throat, I replied with an attempt to put a cheerful spirit into my voice:
"Very well; but I'd like to take a man or two along--merely as a guaranty to the Council that I'm not joking."
Coleman smiled.
"Oh, I didn't expect you to go alone. Take as many men as you like. Will twenty be enough?"
I thought so.
"Well, then, here are a dozen John Doe warrants. They will be your authority for whatever you may find it necessary to do in arresting these men. Now come out here and pick your company."
He led the way to the main hall, glanced over the throng that still pervaded it, and cried in a resonant voice:
"Volunteers wanted for dangerous service."
His discouraging form of statement did not dismay all of the company before him. At least fifty men stepped forward at the call.
"Take your pick," said Coleman with a wave of his hand. "If they haven't revolvers, I will supply them. You'd better take the clubs for ordinary service."
I selected a score of men whose faces showed vigor and determination, looked to their arms, directed them to the pile of pick-handles, and when each man had satisfied himself of the virtue of his weapon by knocking down an imaginary enemy, I led the way to the street.
"Where are we going?" asked one of the men with the easy familiarity of the volunteer.
"Secret service," I replied. "Don't make any more noise than you have to." If we were to arrest the conspirators without bloodshed it was necessary to take them by surprise, and we approached their meeting-place with as much caution as I could contrive.
The House of Blazes blinked more furtively than ever on the darkness. The outer door was but half opened, and the lights within burned but dimly. Yet a faint murmur that thrilled the air gave warning of many voices in converse, and stray gleams of light from the shuttered windows above bore ample witness to the fact that there was hidden activity in the den of the revolutionists.
I posted a number of men in position to prevent escape through the windows, and instructed the remainder to await my signal outside the main entrance. Then pushing open the swinging door, I entered the saloon.
The long room was almost deserted. A man in an apparent stupor sat with his head on a table in the dim light at the farther end of the place. Another lay on a bench snoring in drowsy intoxication. A short, round-faced young fellow with a dirty white apron stood behind the bar, and looked up with cheerful expectancy as I entered.
"Take me to the Council," I said peremptorily. "I am just from Mr. Parks."
"The Council!" stammered the man. "I don't--I don't know what you mean."
At the sound of my voice, the fat pasty face of H. Blasius appeared through the doorway at the right of the bar.
"Ah, Meestaire--Meestaire--friend of Park," he said, recognizing me and coming forward. "I salute a brozaire in arms." And he would have embraced me but for my nimbleness in avoiding his odious clutch.
"I have come for orders," I said. "I must see the Council."
"Ah," he cried, "you have come to give your ar-rms to ze inauguration of ze gr-rand r-revolution." And he rolled out his "r's" in a way to make the revolution very grand indeed.
"I have brought more than my arms," I said. "I have the first company of our troops outside."
"Mon Dieu!" he cried, his pasty face growing paler, and his blinking eyes opening wider in alarm. "Mon Dieu! You have come mooch too soon. Ze police will cast ze blow of an eye upon zem, ze alar-rm will sound, and Zip! away goes ze chance of winning by surprise."
"That's so," I exclaimed, with the accent of one overwhelmed at conviction of a lack of judgment. "I will bring my men in and march them up to the Council-room where they can lie hid till the hour comes."
"Non! non!" cried H. Blasius in alarm. "No one can go to ze Council-room. Zere is no Council-room." His old distrust had overcome the alcoholic enthusiasm with which he had received me, and his eyes blinked cunningly upon me. Then he gave an apprehensive glance at the door by which he had entered, and I was confirmed in the suspicion that it led to the rooms of the conspirators.
"Well, if you won't take me up, I must go by myself. My business must be laid before the Council at once." And I moved with determination toward the suspected door.
H. Blasius placed himself in the way with arms outstretched.
"Non--non!" he cried. "You can notentrezwizout zemot d'ordre--ze password."
"Give it to me, then," I demanded. "You are delaying the Council's business."
He was overawed a little by my authoritative tone, but before he could bring his tongue to answer me, the barkeeper accidentally dropped a glass on the floor, and the men whom I had stationed at the door, mistaking the crash for the sounds of conflict, rushed in to my rescue.
"The Vigilantes!" cried the barkeeper in dismay, at the sight of the badges and the pick-handles.
"Mon Dieu!we are betrayed!" cried H. Blasius, whirling around with a step toward the door that led to the Council-room.
I divined his purpose. He was bent on warning the conspirators. With one bound I had him by the collar, and with a fierce wrench dragged him back and flung him against the bar, spluttering inarticulate protests.
The barkeeper had seized a revolver, but before he could raise it, he was in the hands of my men. He submitted without resistance and with the cheerful spirit of one to whom the outcome is a matter of small importance.
"Keep that man quiet," I said, with the hope that the noise of struggle had not reached the Council-room. Then I gripped H. Blasius by his fat throat.
"Give me the countersign!" I demanded.
He gave a scream of terror and dropped to his knees.
"Have pity--do not keel me.Mon Dieu! I am one good citizen. I make no plots wiz ze r-revolutionists."
"The countersign," I repeated grimly, tightening my grip on his throat, while two of my assistants reinforced my argument by prodding him in the sides with their sticks.
"Leeberty--leeberty or deat',"--Mr. H. Blasius pronounced it "debt"--"zat is ze countersign," he gasped through his constricted windpipe. And assured by his eyes that he was telling the truth, I flung him into the arms of my men.
"Shut off his wind if he tries to give a warning," I said, and with a word I picked a squad from my company and gave them brief instructions:
"Follow me up the stairs. Don't make a noise. And when I give the signal push me through the door."
A dim illumination filtered through a ground-glass transom at the top of the stairway, and the murmur of voices that floated down gave evidence that a busy meeting was in progress.
I walked up the stairs with bold step, and my men crept cautiously after me. At the top was a landing, large enough to hold my squad, and I signed to them to collect behind me. Then I gave three resounding blows on the door--a compelling summons that I had learned as a lawyer's clerk in serving papers on unwilling defendants. There is some mystic virtue in the slow triple knock that brings the most wary from their holes. At my rap there was a sudden hush of voices. Then some one by the door cried:
"Who is there?"
"A friend you are expecting."
"If you are a friend, give the countersign."
"Liberty or Death."
At this reply the door opened cautiously for a few inches, and a man peeped through the crack.
"Now!" I cried. And with the force of six men behind me I shot forward, flung the door wide open, and sent its guardian sprawling backward, as I was projected a dozen feet into the Council-room. The room was large, and around a large table in front of a pulpit-like platform sat twelve or fifteen men. The Council and its advisers were in session.
At my unceremonious entrance the conspirators gave a prompt exhibition of their qualities. Waldorf, Reddick and Seabert sprang to their feet, and their hands went to their pockets with the evident purpose of drawing their revolvers. Others ran from side to side of the room, wildly seeking some way of escape. Two crawled under the table. The rest remained motionless in their chairs, looking with dull apprehension at our sudden irruption.
There were more of the conspirators than I had reckoned on meeting. But we had the advantage of surprise, and signing to two of my men to hold the door, I walked calmly forward with the others.
"Gentlemen," I said to the startled group, "you are under arrest."
"The devil we are!" cried Waldorf, snatching a revolver out of his pocket and snapping it at me.
There was a deafening report, and a bullet clipped my ear, but before Waldorf could raise the hammer a second time a rap from a pick-handle laid him sprawling limply across the table. Reddick's weapon was knocked from his hand with a blow that broke his wrist. Seabert was seized and thrown before he could get his revolver out of his pocket, and a fiery little German in spectacles, who shot a hole in his coat in an excited attempt to draw his weapon, fell limply to the floor and squirmed like a shot rabbit at a skull-cracking stroke from a Vigilante's club.
It was after all but a tame affair. For men who were planning to seize a city and overturn a nation, there was an absurdly small supply of fighting blood among them. The sprawling figure of Waldorf, lying face upward on the table with the blood trickling over his forehead, the fiery German in a limp heap on the floor, and the sight of Reddick and Seabert disabled, took all the fight out of the rest of the company. They submitted without resistance to be searched, disarmed and bound.
"Where are the rifles?" I demanded, when these preliminaries had been completed.
"Don't know of any rifles," said Seabert sullenly. "Never had any."
The arrested company at once became unanimous on this point. There were never any rifles in their possession. They became so insistent in the denial that I jumped to the conclusion that the arms could not be far away, and looked about for their hiding-place. The ornamental work behind the platform and about the hall gave opportunity for concealed doorways and false partitions, but when they were sounded none could be uncovered.
"There's room for them under that platform," I said at last; and by the falling countenances of the conspirators I saw that I had hit upon the hiding-place.
The flooring was ripped off the platform, and we uncovered something more than four hundred rifles with a well-filled cartridge-belt strapped to each. Encouraged by this success we ransacked the place to discover the rest of the Council's armament, but had at last to give it up with the conclusion that the remainder of the thousand guns had already been distributed to the clubs.
A messenger sent in haste to the headquarters of the Committee of Safety brought a train of express-wagons with orders to hurry the arms and ammunition to Horticultural Hall, and send the prisoners to the City Prison and Receiving Hospital. And stationing a guard to receive any of the revolutionary spirits who might come seeking the Council's instructions, I set off for the headquarters of the Committee of Safety. The House of Blazes, as I took my last look at it, seemed smothered in an atmosphere of angry discomfiture, as it scowled at us from its blinking windows, fit tomb of the evil purposes it had harbored.