CHAPTER XXIII BECOME A MAN OF BUSINESSI was a sorry sight when I entered the house once more, with one sleeve torn from my coat, a large and growing lump over my right eye, and my clothing an impressionist study in grass-stains and earth colors.In the excitement of the moment I was not aware of the picturesque figure I made until I saw the horror-stricken look that swept over Laura Kendrick's face as she met me in the hall."Oh," she cried, "you did go and get yourself murdered, after all!""No, indeed. I had a day's work crowded into a few minutes, but we got them driven off, and I'm as sound as a dollar." I spoke with the exultation of victory; but with the reaction from the excitement and fatigue of the battle I felt the need of a place to sit down and pull myself together."Then you're very well disguised," she returned anxiously. "Are those dreadful wretches all gone? Come into our hospital here--right away--and we'll wash the blood off your face, and try to put you to rights.""How is Mr. Kendrick?" I asked, as she led me toward the "hospital.""He has opened his eyes and said a few words. Doctor Roberts is here, and has stitched up his head, and says he will be all right in a week or two if we take good care of him."The room set aside for the hospital had a highly professional look. Wharton Kendrick lay on the same couch on which I had left him. Doctor Roberts was bending over him, carefully adjusting the bandage on his head. Near them I was surprised to see Danny Regan of the broken leg, attended by Mercy Fillmore, while at the other side of the room, propped up in an easy chair, was Moon Ying, looking on the scene with passive wonder."Sit here," ordered Miss Kendrick, wheeling a big chair to the table, and I was glad to obey. "Yes," she continued, noting my scrutiny of Danny Regan and Moon Ying. "The cook complained of the groans she heard from the men's room, so we found out what had happened and had the man brought here. And just before the rocks began to fly I had run up to see about Moon Ying, so I had her carried down. It was lucky I did, for we had hardly got out of the room when bang-cling! went every window in the front of the house. I thought she had best be on the ground floor in case of fire, and this room was as safe as any in the house. My! what a bump you did get. A riot is 'most as bad as falling downstairs, isn't it?"With deft fingers she had wiped away the stains of battle, and now she wrung out a cloth in cold water, folded it into a compress, and bound it skilfully over my swollen forehead.I leaned back luxuriously, and gazed with admiration on my nurse."It's quite worth while, after all," I said.She colored, but looked steadily at me as she worked."Don't get too appreciative," she said."Impossible!" I interrupted."Because," she said, "I'm coming to believe that you're not so badly hurt as your poor head looks. The blood on your face isn't yours at all, but came from somebody else--""You ought to see the other fellow," I murmured softly."--and you've been getting sympathy under false pretenses, and I really think I ought to call Jane to look after you while I attend to uncle.""I shall sink into the last stages of dissolution," I protested, "if you turn me over to an incompetent nurse.""Incompetent! Why, Jane is twice as competent as I.""It depends on the complaint. I'm sure she wouldn't understand mine at all."Laura smiled indulgently as she adjusted the last knot on the bandage."There," she said, "you're quite picturesque, and you'll be all right in the morning. And I don't think you need anybody to look after you at all."I was about to protest that my condition was most serious when she was called to Wharton Kendrick's couch, and I caught Moon Ying's eyes fixed on mine. I smiled and nodded, and she beckoned me, so I wheeled my chair to her side."What I tell-em you?" she said. "I no go 'way, bad man come, all same shoot, fight, tly bu'n house, eh?""This not for you, Moon Ying," I reassured her. "Bad man come, anyhow. Plenty of that kind outside of Chinatown."Moon Ying shook her head and pointed to Danny Regan."Him Li'l John's explessman--I sabby him many time come Li'l John's place."I looked at Danny Regan's low-browed countenance, and realized that an attack of the highbinders' mercenaries had been made under cover of the larger attack of Bolton's hirelings and the anti-Chinese mob."I think you're right, Moon Ying," I said. "But just you sabby this: bad men in front of house, they no come from Little John; they were after Mr. Kendrick. You can claim those fellows behind the house. But you see we are no worse off for having you here. 'Twas the other fellows who broke the windows."I was just on the point of interrogating Danny Regan as to the inspiring cause of his raid when I heard Wharton Kendrick's voice rise in querulous tones:"Here, I must get up," he said with evident effort. "Is the city on fire?""After a while," said the soothing voice of the doctor. "The city is all safe, and you'll have to wait till to-morrow before you get out.""I must look after things to-night," said the patient, his voice rising complainingly. "I must look after things."I got to my feet and walked softly to his couch. He was vainly trying to rise, and beating the air helplessly with his hands."I must get out--help me, somebody!" he cried in an appealing voice. He tried to lift himself, but his body refused to obey his will.The doctor uttered a soothing protest.Miss Kendrick added her voice to the authority of the doctor and at her quieting words Wharton Kendrick closed his eyes. Then on a sudden he opened them widely, and again attempted to raise his head."It's the business--it's the business!" he cried with the voice of one who had brought a forgotten thing from the depths of his memory. "It's all upset. I must see to it, or it will be too late."She patted him again with gentle hand."There--there," she said, in the comforting mother-tone. "It will be all right. You can't do anything to-night. It's after ten o'clock."He gave a groan."The markets will go to smash in the morning unless we get ready for them to-night. It's all up," he moaned. "It was all in my head, and it's all gone. There'll be a smash in the market to-morrow, and I can't help it." Then he broke into passionate sobbing, while Laura Kendrick knelt over him, wiped away his tears, and made above him those murmuring sounds with which the mother comforts the hurt child.It was with something of the awe with which one meets the earthquake that I witnessed the collapse of the fortitude and self-control in Wharton Kendrick. The foundations of the earth seemed breaking up when I saw this type of self-reliant manhood whimpering and weeping like a whipped schoolboy.Doctor Roberts had been attending to Danny Regan of the broken leg, but he now returned to his more demonstrative patient."Come, come," he said in his most cheerful professional tone. "This is no way to get well. If you want to be out to-morrow, you must be quiet." And he motioned us away."It's all going to smash--I can hear it going," sobbed Kendrick, "and I can't remember what to do." He lay looking anxiously from side to side and repeated over and over, "I can't remember what to do."As Doctor Roberts motioned us away again, I took him aside."Is there any chance of his getting down to business to-morrow?""Not the slightest. And he must not be excited by talking of it.""I think I can ease his mind somewhat," I said. An idea had been slowly forming in my brain, and now it sprang forth complete. I sat down by him and took his hand to help his wandering attention."I'll look out for the business," I said. "I'll see Mr. Coleman to-night. We'll get the syndicate together, and protect the markets to-morrow.""That's it--the syndicate--that's it," he cried with a visible relief. "That's what I was trying to think of--the syndicate. Coleman will know; Partridge will know."I called for paper, pens and ink, and wrote out in duplicate a formal authorization by which Wharton Kendrick gave Arthur Hampden, his attorney, the power to act for him in all his business affairs.In the meantime I had despatched one of my men to summon a notary who lived down by Polk Street. The official was at home, up, and dressed, and he hurried to the Kendrick house, hot on the scent of the liberal fee that the name called up before his imagination. When he had come, I read aloud the power of attorney I had drawn."That's it, Hampden; you won't see me go down, will you?" said my client in a pleading voice. And with some difficulty he attached his signature, and Doctor Roberts and Mercy Fillmore signed as witnesses, while the notary affixed his official acknowledgment.Armed with this evidence of power, I started for my hat, when Miss Kendrick stopped me."You aren't going out in that fix, are you?" she demanded. And at her gesture I remembered my torn and one-sleeved coat, and the chiaroscuro of soil and grass stains with which I had been decorated."I was thinking that I should be all right if I got a hat, but I'm afraid it will take more than that to fit me out," I said ruefully. "Come to think of it, my hat is out on the lawn with the other sleeve of my coat. There's quite a collection of second-hand clothing out there, but it's rather dark to find one's own.""Men are so fussy about their hats," said Miss Laura, "but I'll have the collection brought in from the lawn, and maybe you can make yours do for to-night. As for the coat, I'll bring down one of uncle's that's too small for him, and you won't look so very ridiculous, after all."My headgear, when recovered, bore evidence that it had been worn on a militant heel; but when I had brought the torn edges together, I flattered myself that in the darkness it would look almost as good as new. And although the coat hung loosely upon me, and the stains of battle refused to yield to the brush, I was consoled by the thought that these departures from the rules of polite dress would add corroborative details and a livelier interest to my tale of Wharton Kendrick's undoing."Now, leave that bandage alone," commanded Miss Laura, as I raised my hand to complete my toilet by removing that badge of battle. "You have to wear it. And you have no idea how becoming it looks."I submitted ruefully to this edict of petticoat tyranny, and Miss Kendrick rewarded me by escorting me to the door. She gave me her hand, and there was a look in her eyes that was near to carrying me off my feet as she said with the suspicion of a tremble in her voice:"I hope you don't think we are not appreciating what you have done--and are doing.""It is nothing," I said, looking into the magnetic depths of her eyes, until she dropped her glance to the floor, and blushed divinely."It is nothing," I repeated. Then bending, I touched my lips to her hand, and with no other word ran down the steps in a tumult of elation.The Coleman house was alight as I rang the bell, and William T. Coleman himself appeared close on the heels of the suspicious servant who took in my card. He was able to recall the circumstances of our introduction as he gave me a cordial greeting and shook me warmly by the hand."I was in hopes Kendrick would come himself," he said; "but as he hasn't, I am glad he sent you.""Mr. Kendrick didn't come because he couldn't come. He was badly hurt in to-night's riot.""Kendrick hurt? How badly?"I described the extent of his injuries as well as I could, and Coleman's eyes took on a troubled look."I wanted to consult him about affairs. A number of our leading men have been here this evening, and General McComb has agreed to issue a call for a citizens' meeting at the Chamber of Commerce to-morrow afternoon. We must devise some way to assist the authorities, and I looked to Kendrick to take a leading part.""It will be some days before he can be out. But he is very anxious about the state of business. He is afraid there will be a smash in the markets to-morrow."William T. Coleman smiled, and the calm sense of power that shone in his eyes gave me renewed courage."Kendrick was always one of the men who think that nothing will be done if they don't attend to it themselves," he said with good-natured raillery."Well, it's usually true, isn't it? Most things don't get done.""A very just observation, Mr. Hampden. Most things don't get done. The man who has the brains and will to accomplish things is the invaluable man. It's our main trouble in every branch of the world's work--to find the man with ideas and the force to carry them out. But we must show Kendrick that he isn't indispensable in this crisis. Did he explain to you the state of affairs?""No. He could only refer me to you for details. He gave me the authorization to represent him in the syndicate, and in his business generally. It was all he was able to do.""Well, the syndicate brought together a capital of ten million--I suppose you know that.""Yes, but I believe it was heavily drawn on in the raid of last month.""We had to put out close to three million six hundred thousand of loans that day, but some of it has come back since.""Then the syndicate must have between six and seven million at its disposal.""Over seven, I think. Kendrick could give you the figures out of his head--that is, before his head was broken--but I'll have to get them from my memoranda.""How long do you expect that to last in a storm?""It ought to see us through any crisis that can arise.""But this is a more serious occasion than the other. See our riots, and the explosion of violence in the East. Will not these frighten our business men far more than the rumors that set off the hub-bub of last month?"Coleman leaned back in his chair, his face expressing confident cheerfulness, and his eyes magnetic with power."Very true," he said. "But on the other hand, the flurry of last month shook out the weaklings. Stocks and bonds are shifted into strong hands. Doubtful accounts have been closed out. We are in much better shape than before the squall struck us.""I'm glad to hear it," I said with some relief, though the thought of Peter Bolton's malign activities weighed on my mind, and I was tempted to confide in William T. Coleman. But as Wharton Kendrick had kept the matter to himself, I followed his example, and continued: "I believe the interests of Mr. Kendrick can best be served by sustaining the markets and preventing failures. But as to details, I should like your advice.""Well, I will read you the memorandum made at our meeting of the other night of the men and firms who are likely to need help, and the amounts it would probably be safe to lend them." And Mr. Coleman brought a sheet of paper from his desk and interpreted the cabalistic signs that covered it. The freedom with which the names of banks, business houses and individuals had been handled would have created a sensation if the paper had been published. "And here is a list of the men who have had advances," he said, taking out another sheet and reading off names and figures.I noted down the list for reference and study."Do you think," asked Coleman, "that Kendrick will be able to get down to-morrow?""No, the doctor said it would be impossible.""That is very awkward. The syndicate's money is deposited in his name, and he is the man to sign our checks."I saw the advantage of keeping this power in Wharton Kendrick's hands, and suggested:"Possibly he can attend to that part of the business at the house. I can have a line of messengers to carry the checks back and forth."Coleman wrinkled his brows, and gave his head a forceful shake."That won't do. The arrangement would lose us forty minutes on every transaction. You had better get Kendrick to make out a check for the whole amount in favor of Nelson, and Nelson will look out for the details."I was far from satisfied that this was the best way out of the difficulty. It eliminated Wharton Kendrick as a factor in the operations of the syndicate, and I had a vague but controlling feeling that this would fit badly with his plans. But I could give no sound reason for dissent from the suggestion, and at last Coleman said:"Go to Kendrick, and ask him for the check. I'll have Nelson and Partridge here by the time you get back, and we can talk the business over more fully."The Kendrick house was bright with lights as I reached it, and I was more annoyed than pleased to find Mr. Baldwin busily assisting Miss Kendrick, and directing the servants in the work of clearing up the broken glass and securing the open windows with boards.Mr. Baldwin recognized me in his most superior way, and assumed his most magnificent airs of proprietorship from the top of the ladder, as he waved a hammer as his baton of command."Ah, Hampden," he said with a cool nod, "this is a fine mess your friends have made of things.""Gracious, me!" exclaimed Miss Kendrick. "Is that the way friends act? I've seen men play some pretty rough pranks in the name of friendship, but I'm sure I never knew them to go so far as they did with Mr. Hampden. It's a mercy he wasn't killed. You should have seen him when he came in from the fracas!"Mr. Baldwin appeared to be put out of countenance by this railing acknowledgment of my share in the defense of the house, and I judged by his tone that he considered it a reflection on him for being absent in the crisis."I had been out of town," he said stiffly, apparently for my enlightenment, "and got in on the eight o'clock boat. Later I heard that your friends were on the war-path, and threatening to burn Nob Hill and Van Ness Avenue. Then I came up here to see if I could be of service, and found that it was all over--except the repairs." And with this attempt to set himself right, he resumed his air of importance."Well, it's very lucky you weren't here," said Miss Kendrick. "I don't doubt you would have got your head broken, and you'd never be able to stand up on that ladder if it was going around the way Mr. Hampden's is. Oh," she cried suddenly, "what have you done with that bandage I put over your bump?""It came off," I said weakly, bringing the damp and offending rag out of my pocket."I believe you took it off," she said with an air of reprimand."You can put it on again," I pleaded with meek submission."No--it can stay off," she said. "You're getting on entirely too well to be fussed over any more. And now if you'll go in and see uncle, I'll be obliged. He has been dozing, but he comes to with a start every few minutes and asks for you. I'm hoping you can quiet his mind, for his worry isn't at all good for him." And her voice quivered with a pathetic note of affectionate anxiety.Wharton Kendrick lay on the couch with his eyes closed, but opened them vacantly as I came in. Mercy Fillmore sat by his side. He collected himself with an effort, and said:"I've been wanting you, Hampden! What was it you were to see about? Some business, wasn't it?" His eyes wandered, as though he were seeking for some lost thread of memory.I gave him a condensed account of my visit to William T. Coleman. He heard me listlessly until I came to the request to make out a check for the syndicate's balance in favor of Nelson. Then he started violently, and half raised himself."I'll see 'em damned first!" he cried. "How can I protect myself if the money is turned over to Nelson?" He looked about wildly, fiercely; then sank back and closed his eyes.Mercy Fillmore shook her head at me, and her eyes expressed reproach."You are exciting him," she whispered. "Isn't this business something that can be put off?"He heard her and answered:"No, it can't be put off. There'll be a smash in the market in the morning, and I shan't be there to stop it!" He had begun with energy, but his voice trailed off into a querulous tone as he added: "What shall I do? What shall I do?" Then suddenly a look of resolution came into his face. "Bring me my check-book," he cried with feverish impatience. "There's one in that coat pocket. Be quick about it!"The book was produced, and after looking at it helplessly for a little he handed it back to me. Then he seemed to collect his faculties and asked:"What was the balance? Why can't I remember?"I read the figures from the memorandum Mr. Coleman had given me."Seven million three hundred and twenty thousand," he repeated. "Well, make out a check to yourself for that amount. Now help me up while I sign it. What are you waiting for? Give me that pen."I was somewhat dashed by the responsibility that was being thrust upon me, but I could think of no better course. So we propped him to a sitting posture, and he signed his name somewhat unsteadily to the check."Now take it, Hampden," he said. "You won't see me go down, will you? Look out for my interests. They're yours, Hampden. Stand by me this time, and I'll stand by you always." His voice trailed off into indistinctness as we laid him back on the pillow, and after a struggle to speak, his face flushed a startling red, he mumbled a few incoherent sounds, and was lost to his surroundings.Mercy Fillmore uttered a cry at this sudden change."Oh, I wish Doctor Roberts was back!""Here is Doctor Roberts," said the quiet professional voice, as the physician entered the room and stepped to his patient's side. "No more business to-night," he continued sharply. "I am afraid there will be no more for many days. I must ask you to retire, Mr. Hampden; the atmosphere is too exciting for Mr. Kendrick."I denied myself the pleasure of interrupting Mr. Baldwin's conversation, as I went out, and hastened to the Coleman house.Partridge and Nelson had already arrived, and I found them earnestly discussing the situation with Mr. Coleman. They greeted me with condescension, inquired civilly of the condition of Wharton Kendrick, and warmly expressed their indignation against the mob."Was Kendrick able to sign the check to Nelson?" asked Coleman, coming abruptly to the matter of business.I explained, as diplomatically as I was able, the arrangement my client had made."Well, then," said Nelson, "it is very easily settled. All you have to do is to indorse the check over to me." And he looked at me with the self-satisfied air of the business man whose word is law to his employees.The calm assumption that I was to be eliminated from the proceedings without so much as saying "by your leave," roused my combative instincts, and it was only by drawing a firm rein on my temper that I was able to reply calmly:"I do not think I am justified by my instructions to take such a step.""What do you propose to do, then?" asked Partridge shortly.The tone in which the question was put added fire to my resentment, and I replied with emphasis:"I shall be guided by the wishes of my client, and where he has not expressed a wish, I shall follow my own judgment."Partridge and Nelson looked at each other."I think I shall go and see Kendrick," said Partridge."Mr. Kendrick is in a stupor, and the doctor would not permit him to be seen, even if he could be roused," I replied."This is very awkward," said Nelson, drumming on the table with his fingers."Not at all," said Coleman, in calm and tactful voice. "Mr. Hampden has the money that was intrusted to Kendrick. He has Kendrick's power of attorney. For all practical purposes he is Kendrick. He will sign the checks just as Kendrick would have signed them. Is not that your idea, Mr. Hampden?""You have stated exactly my understanding of my instructions, Mr. Coleman. I am ready to sign any checks that Mr. Kendrick would sign if he were here."Partridge nodded his assent to this construction of my orders, but Nelson still looked sourly at me."What checks do you think he would sign?" asked Nelson."Why, in general, I should say that they would be any that are approved by you three gentlemen."Nelson's face cleared and he stopped drumming on the table."That is satisfactory," he said. "Then we had better make our headquarters again in Mr. Kendrick's office. It is the most central location. We shall be there a little before ten o'clock.""You had better see the bank about transferring the money to your account before the opening," said Partridge, as we rose to go. "When the fun begins, you'll have no time to waste."CHAPTER XXIIITHE COMMITTEE OF SAFETYI came out of the bank from my morning visit in a daze of emotions. The street was thronged with hurrying crowds. The air was electric with the tension of social storm. The echoes of the mob's outburst could be heard in the indignant comments that passed from mouth to mouth; the fears that it inspired could be read in the tense lines that it had written on men's faces. But it was all one to me. I saw and I saw not. I heard and I heard not. I walked the street stunned, overwhelmed with the conviction that an irreparable blunder had snatched the control of events from my hands, and doomed Wharton Kendrick to swift and certain ruin.I had found the president of the Golconda Bank in his private office at a few minutes after nine o'clock, and Wharton Kendrick's card had secured me prompt admission. I had known the president slightly for several years, and he received me with brusk kindness as I stated my errand and exhibited my credentials."Oh, we'll arrange that for you in two minutes," he said, after he had examined my papers, and questioned me on Wharton Kendrick's condition. "Just indorse that check, and I'll have the account put in your name."When he had sent his messenger to the cashier with his directions, he continued:"That is a heavy responsibility you have on your shoulders to-day. There is plenty of trouble ahead. We look to the syndicate to do the work of a commercial fire-patrol." And he favored me with a few words of advice for which I professed myself grateful. He was still giving counsel, when the cashier reappeared with a troubled face."There's something wrong about this," he said, laying my check before the president."That is Kendrick's signature," said the president, scrutinizing it once more."But look at the figures," urged the cashier."Seven million three hundred and twenty thousand dollars?""Yes; but there is only six million eight hundred and twenty thousand in the special account on which this check is drawn."The president drew his lips into a whistle, and then said:"Well, we can't do anything with it, you see. You'll have to go back to Kendrick and get him to correct it."If I had been as wise at the moment as I became by subsequent reflection I should have summoned all my powers of eloquence to convince him that the safety of the bank as a part of the commercial structure of the city lay in getting that fund promptly released for use in the coming crisis. The arguments with which I could have supported such a thesis came to me in abundance a day later. But at the moment I was stricken dumb and my wits were scattered by the thought that Wharton Kendrick had used for his own purposes a half-million dollars of the syndicate's money, and was to be dishonored before the world.Before I could recover myself the president had bowed me out of his room, and I was mechanically guided by my subconscious self to Wharton Kendrick's office. In my bewilderment I came into collision with a man who stood by the door, and begged his pardon without getting an impression of his personality."Why, God bless my soul, Hampden! What's the matter with you? You run over a man without even the politeness to call out 'Hi there!' and then you look at him as though it was the first time you'd ever set eyes on him. Is this the day you pick out to send your wits a-wool-gathering? Where's Kendrick? I see by the papers there was a row up at his house last night, and he got a nasty knock on the head."It was General Wilson, looking more fiery and self-important than ever."What's the matter?" he continued, slapping me jovially on the back. "Is Kendrick worse hurt than the papers say? You look as though the bank had broken."I told the general of the assault on Kendrick and of his perilous condition, and the general puffed out his red cheeks, blew out his breath with a noise like a porpoise, and cursed the mob with a heartiness and good will that was inspiring."Put me in charge of this town for twenty-four hours, and I'd hang every mother's son of those agitators higher than Haman," said the general, when the ready stock of curses ran out. "That's the way to deal with 'em. But cheer up! Kendrick will be all right in a few days."I felt an inward shrinking from telling General Wilson the rest of the woeful truth. But the truth would be the property of the street within an hour, and it could not be made worse by trusting it to even so garrulous a confidant as he. Perhaps I had a faint hope that the old campaigner might make a suggestion that would help me out of my difficulties; but the overmastering thought in my mind was that I held the position of a conductor of a runaway train that was plunging down a mountain grade to certain wreck, and it did not matter what I did or said. So taking the general into Wharton Kendrick's office, I told him my tale of the dishonored check.He took it more calmly than I had expected. "How much did you say he's overdrawn?" he asked in businesslike tones."Five hundred thousand dollars.""That was the deuce of a mistake for Kendrick to make. Can't you get him to correct it?"I groaned out a miserable negative."I left there at half-past eight this morning," I returned, "and he hadn't come out of the stupor that I left him in last night."General Wilson drew a prolonged whistle, and looked grave. Then he said:"There's just one thing to do. Get some of Kendrick's friends to advance the half-million. Deposit it to his account. Then the bank will pay your check. Then you'll have the money, and can pay back the advance inside of one minute.""Half a million is a big sum," I said doubtingly. "I don't know anybody who will put that up at short notice."General Wilson threw himself back in his chair with an air of marvelous self-importance."Hang it, man!" he cried. "Why don't you ask me? You don't suppose that General Wilson would let his friend Kendrick go to the wall for want of a trifling favor like that, do you? I've a notion to be insulted at not being asked--hang me if I haven't!"I grasped his hand, and expressed my opinion of his offer in dumb show. There was a painful task before me, however, and as it could not be postponed, I hastened to perform it."You're a trump, General Wilson, but I can't take up with your offer.""Why not?""Because," I said slowly, "I can't pay back the five hundred thousand if you advance it.""What do you mean?" demanded General Wilson in bewilderment."Well, I am afraid that the figures on the check are correct.""Correct? How's that?""They are the figures of the balance of the syndicate's fund deposited in Wharton Kendrick's hands. They show the amount of money that ought to be in the bank--and it isn't there."General Wilson drew another long whistle, and his face suddenly became grave again."Then he has used half a million of the syndicate's money?""I suppose so.""What in the name of common sense did he do that for?" demanded the general irritably."I suppose he was sure he could make it up when the time came," I said in feeble defense."They always are," said the general grimly."Oh, I have no doubt he had everything calculated out to the last dollar," I returned. "The only thing he didn't calculate on was this knock on the head. If he was on his feet he would have the money in five minutes.""Well, I suppose he would," said the general. "But he isn't on his feet, and what's the result?""The result is smash," said I with grim despair. "Partridge, Nelson and Coleman will be here inside of twenty minutes. When they set foot inside that door, Wharton Kendrick had better be dead."General Wilson studied vacancy for a minute. Then he said slowly:"You said you got a power of attorney out of Kendrick, didn't you?"I handed him the paper I had drawn and Wharton Kendrick had signed.He studied it carefully, and then nodded his head as though it met his approval. At last he said:"Well, then, there's a way out. I was coming in this morning to put through that swamp-land deal. Why, you were at Kendrick's on Sunday when I told him that he was going to accept eight hundred thousand for that land, and he hemmed and hawed, and told me to come in this morning. Of course I could see in his eye that he was going to take me up, but he was playing coy. Now I'll make you the offer I would make him if he was here. I'll pay you five hundred thousand down, balance in thirty days, or when deed passes." He looked at me with a mixture of business shrewdness and bluff friendship."I'll take the responsibility of accepting that offer," I said promptly. And General Wilson drew his check and scribbled a few lines on a sheet of paper."Here, sign this receipt and memorandum of agreement, and give me that power of attorney; I'll have it recorded," he said. "Now take that check and get over to the bank as quick as the Lord'll let you. We'll make out the contract in due form this afternoon, and I'll get that on record, too." Then he chuckled jovially, and gave me another slap on the back as he added: "Stick to me, and I'll make a Napoleon of Finance out of you yet, Hampden."Until I felt the sudden rebound of my spirits when I saw the check in my hand, I did not realize how horribly I had been scared. I was in a position to appreciate the feelings of a man who felt his house tumbling about his ears in a mighty earthquake, and had waked to find it only a nightmare. But I thanked General Wilson calmly, and rushed hurriedly over to the bank. I had small difficulty in impressing the president with the importance of haste; and the account was cleared and entered in my name before the opening hour.As I returned to the office I met William T. Coleman coming away. His face was calm with resolute strength, and his eyes carried the magnetic inspiration of courage."I just looked in to tell you that I can't sit with your committee for an hour or two," he said. "I have some other irons in the fire; but I'll be in later. Partridge and Nelson are there now, and whatever they approve will be satisfactory to me. If you get at loggerheads, send for me, and I'll come."His manner more than his words put me in heart with the assurance that I should not have to stand alone in battle, and I hastened with fresh confidence to take my place in the council."They're hammering things pretty hard on the exchanges," said Partridge after greetings had been made. "Prices are holding up well, so far, but I guess we'll have to put a brace under some of those fellows inside of half an hour." And with a clouded brow he studied the strip that came from the ticker."Carey and Son are shaky," said Nelson. "So are Benbow and Johnson, and a dozen others. And worst of all we've got to put some more coin into those confounded banks.""It's like throwing the money away," groaned Partridge. "They can't put up collateral that a gambler would look at."Nelson adjusted his gold-rimmed eye-glasses to look at his list of suspects, and gave his head a shake."Well, we've got to keep them afloat till these troubles are over," he said with decision."And the infernal part of it is," said Partridge, "that those fellows know it. I'd give a thousand dollars out of my own pocket, if we could let them drop without hurting any one else." And he resumed his study of the ticker with an irritated face.The noise of the shouting crowds that filled and surrounded the exchanges floated up through the windows, rising and falling like the roar of ocean breakers. There was a curious variation of quality in the swelling volumes of sound. Now it expressed apprehension; now desperation; and again there was the tonic roar of exultation rising above the lesser cries.We had not been in consultation ten minutes when the first application for support came from a pale but assertive man who tried to conceal his desperation under an air of bluster."Manning, of Smith and Manning," whispered Nelson to me, as the man entered the door.He began to explain his business in roundabout phrase."Never mind that, Manning," said Partridge. "You're in the door, and you'll be squeezed if we don't help you. That's the long and short of it. How much are you in for, and what security can you offer? Let's see those papers. They tell the story, don't they?"Manning wiped his forehead, with a sigh, and looked relieved rather than hurt at Partridge's abruptness."Five thousand will pull us through," he gasped."No it won't," said Partridge, running over the papers. "Here's another note for thirty-five hundred. Einstein and Company won't wait. This is a pretty poor showing. No wonder the bank wouldn't carry you any longer!""We can get along all right if we get out of this hole," pleaded Manning."Well, we'll take up these two claims on your note for thirty days," said Partridge after a telegraphic glance at Nelson and me. "Sign here."I made out the checks, and Manning, once more putting on his blustering air as he would have put on an overcoat, went out to face his enemies.From this time on, there was a steady stream of applicants, some frankly admitting their desperate condition, some trying to conceal their fears under an assumption of confidence. But whatever of pretense a man had covered himself with to enter our office was ruthlessly stripped from him as soon as he made his request for money. For one minute of the day, at least, he had to face the truth, and to see himself as he was. I soon discovered that Partridge's judgment of commercial paper was quick and sure. Nelson and I recognized our inferiority and promptly deferred to his opinions. Only once during the day did we overrule him, and in that instance we acted rather on an inspiration of mercy than on our commercial judgment."His paper is no good, and he wouldn't carry anybody else with him if he went to the wall," objected Partridge, when the man we had insisted on saving from ruin had gone out."The paper is bad," admitted Nelson, "but the man is all right. I like his looks.""Yes," I added, "we have double the chance of getting the money back from him that we have of getting it from that fat, oily-tongued fellow who stood us up for twenty thousand a few minutes ago."I was pleased to remind Partridge of the incident a few months later when our protégé redeemed his obligation in full at the same time that the oily-tongued heavy-weight compromised for thirty cents on the dollar.But despite this temporary disagreement I was none the less ready to follow Partridge's judgment on the cases that came before us. And after the cross-questioning of the applicant was over, Nelson and I rarely refused a nod of assent to his inquiring glance. His comments ran something like this, as the stream of the financially lame, halt and blind passed before us:"That's all tommyrot--you don't need the half of that. Seven thousand will pull you through. Here! what do you mean by coming to us? Any bank in the city would take that collateral. No. Not a dollar unless you will make over your stock to Nelson as trustee. Here! you'll have to get your brother to sign that note. Take it now. He'll do it, when you tell him that we won't touch it without. That collateral is no good; I know you've got better. Don't waste our time, unless you're willing to show it. See here! you'll need more than that. What do you mean by telling us that you owe only ten thousand when your balance-sheet here calls for eighteen? Come now, do you think we are running a charity soup-house? You've got unencumbered real estate; raise your money on that."We had been at this work close upon two hours when William T. Coleman returned. He brought a list of merchants who would need assistance, and the amounts that we might safely advance them."There's a very scary feeling outside," he said. "There are all sorts of rumors about plots to burn the city, and some men are foolish enough to say that San Francisco is going to be worse than Pittsburgh.""That's not impossible," said Nelson."I know there has been plenty of talk in the anti-coolie clubs about burning the Pacific Mail steamers," I said. "But I don't think they will have the courage for it.""It's only a question of leadership," said Coleman, "and that may develop at any minute. A mob is a queer creature. You can't tell what it will do. It is a coward by itself, but it is often capable of great courage when it has a leader--sometimes when it thinks it has a leader.""What we need is troops," said Nelson. "I hope, Coleman, that you will use your influence with Bryant and Governor Irwin to get the militia called out. They ought to ask for Federal troops. There'll be no nonsense where they are stationed. They shoot to kill.""You might bring your plans before the citizens' meeting this afternoon," said Coleman shortly.Partridge had been studying the ticker intently, and now growled:"There's somebody raising the devil out there in the stock-market. He's got the El Dorado Bank behind him by the looks of things, and he's whacking at prices with a sledge-hammer."The name of this modern practitioner in the black art was on the tip of my tongue, but I kept it from escaping. If Wharton Kendrick had not revealed it in the course of the previous raid, it was evidently my cue to keep still.The contest grew hotter as the day advanced. The waiting-room was filled with anxious men, and we watched with concern the growing total of advances we had been compelled to make. The Sundown Bank had to be rescued twice from imminent failure, and two other banks called upon us for loans. We had groaned at the character of the collateral offered by the Sundowners, but there was no help for it. We had to advance enough to keep their doors from closing, or the wreck would have begun; and once under way at this troublous juncture we saw no limit to the ruin ahead. But at last it was over. Three o'clock came, the banks closed, and rumor and fear could only threaten of trouble to come."Well, there's a hard day gone," said Partridge with a sigh of relief."And another one just beginning," said Coleman placidly."How do we stand now?" asked Nelson."We paid out three million seven hundred and ninety-eight thousand," I returned, glancing at the figures."That leaves us--?""Three million five hundred and twenty-two thousand.""That is too small a margin for safety," said Coleman with decision. "This thing isn't over yet. I thought we would have enough to carry us through, but I see we must have more. You'll have to get out, Partridge, and you, too, Nelson, and see what can be done in the way of raising more money.""I suppose it has got to be done," said Partridge. "We can't afford to go broke now." And Nelson nodded assent.Coleman then turned to me: "It's time we were going over to the citizens' meeting," he said. "I've promised to preside. We are to meet in the Chamber of Commerce rooms, over here." And taking me by the arm, he led me out of the office.During the stress of the day's business, we had come into close relations, and I had been more than ever impressed with the vigorous sense of this man. He displayed on that small field all the qualities of leadership demanded in the management of a nation. His resource and calm strength of mind inspired me with an unwonted warmth of admiration, and I could even then think only with regret of the ruler and statesman who had been smothered into the habit of a painstaking merchant. The generous emotions of hero-worship thrilled within me, and I was delighted to find that my admiration was repaid with a show of liking and confidence."There is one thing I am apprehensive about," he said, as we climbed the stairs to the Chamber of Commerce. "This meeting is a necessary thing, but it seems to have roused anxiety rather than allayed it. I hope that the speeches will be of a character to inspire confidence in our ability to handle the situation. If we don't inspire that confidence, we shall do more mischief than good."As we entered the hall, we saw that it was already well filled with the solid men of the city. Mayor Bryant was there with the chief of police. General McComb nodded to me, and hastened to speak to Coleman. Members of the state and city governments, bankers, merchants, and a sprinkling of other classes of society were to be seen in the groups about the room.There was more of cheerful calmness about the meeting than I had expected to find. The fact that these men were present was proof that they felt the emergency to be grave; but their talk was flavored with the saving salt of American humor that no calamity can suppress, and inspired by the optimistic American sentiment that "it will all come out right somehow."I had scarce found a seat when General McComb with his most impressive military air called the meeting to order. When the company had been reduced to silence, he continued:"I have taken the liberty of sending out the circulars that requested you to meet here for the purpose of considering the safety of the city. The people see in Monday night's outbreak the dangers that come when the passions of the mob are given full sway. An honored citizen has been struck down, property has been destroyed, and threats of worse things to come are heard on every side. In this emergency we should organize to give the city the protection essential to its preservation. We have with us a man who has twice come forward to lead the loyal citizens in the task of putting down the lawless and criminal elements of the city. I ask that William T. Coleman be chosen as chairman of this meeting."The response left no doubt that Mr. Coleman was the assembly's unanimous choice. The men who had gathered there looked toward him with as unquestioning confidence as ever soldiers looked to their captain. And at the shout that answered General McComb, he walked to the chair with the assured step of a man accustomed to command."I thank you for your confidence," he said. "I have not thought, I do not think, that there is any pressing danger. But I recognize the moral value of organization in times of disquiet, and I am here to assist in putting the physical force of the city at the disposition of the authorities. I have not seen any need for augmenting the military or police forces of the city. But General McComb and Mayor Bryant, who have had better opportunities than I to observe the situation, have thought differently. Therefore let us take precautions. The people of this city have proved through many trials that they are essentially law-abiding. But there is a dangerous element here--an element of lawless young men who do not think of results, and who do not shrink from violence. If I had not realized this fact before, I should have been forced to acknowledge it when one of my closest friends fell a victim last night to their anger. But I have full confidence in the manhood of San Francisco. If the city is threatened by a rising of the disorderly elements I am ready to assure the authorities that a force of twenty thousand men can be raised, if need be, for the defense of our homes and property."A silence followed the applause evoked by this speech. If the speaker expressed more confidence than he felt, his words accomplished their purpose of rousing the courage of the assembly before him. Then a mild-faced man rose, and in halting voice asked the privilege of putting a question."Mr. Chairman," he began, "why are not the constituted authorities sufficient to cope with this outbreak? We have police. We have a militia. They are the lawful arm of government to chastise the evil-doer. Why are they not competent to handle the hoodlum mobs?"General McComb was touched to the quick by the question thus put, and rose with an air of military dignity."I can answer for the militia," he said with some asperity. "There is no more loyal and competent body anywhere than the one I have the honor to command. But the troops must be supported by the assurance that they have the moral and physical backing of law-abiding citizens. That is why I have asked you to meet us here. I have no doubt you would like to hear from our worthy mayor on the needs of the city in this emergency."Mayor Bryant got to his feet at this indirect appeal, and a much troubled mayor he appeared. I doubted not from his expression that he would have welcomed some plan by which his office might be administered on the model of those German newspapers whose editors delegate to some hireling the responsibilities that lead tolèse-majestéand the jail, and pursue their way undisturbed by thoughts of consequences."I approve the proposed organization of citizens to coöperate with the municipal authorities," he began in halting and anxious tones. "It will help us to keep the peace. But there wasn't so much violence last night as some have thought. The body of the meeting was orderly. The trouble came only from the hoodlums who broke off from it in droves to commit violence. The responsible men of the labor organizations who were present have called on me to say that they had no idea that the hoodlums would take advantage of the meeting to create disorder."Several military men followed the mayor with speeches of a fiery nature, and advocated stern measures to subdue the riotous elements. At these outbursts of martial ardor I could see Coleman's mouth tighten imperceptibly into lines of disapproval and determination. At last his growing impatience could be restrained no longer, and he interrupted a resplendent militia colonel who was in full flight of an oration calling for "action at once.""I understand this subject," said Coleman with decision, "and you don't. This is a matter that should not be discussed too fully or too publicly. But since so much has been said, I will inform you, gentlemen, that you don't know the mine you are standing on. The safety or destruction of the city hangs on a pivot. There must be more spirit shown by the law-abiding elements, or the balance will turn toward destruction. There must be action, not talk. I do not want to accuse anybody of lethargy, but the fact is there are too many men who call for the suppression of disorder, and then go home and leave somebody else to attend to their protection. The men who most deserve protection are those who are ready to take arms in their hands to get it.""Well, what course would you advise this meeting to take?" asked General McComb."Organize at once," said the chairman in vigorous tones. "Appoint a central committee--say of twenty-four. Then open rolls for men to sign, pledging their persons and their money to protect the wives, children and fortunes that are now at the mercy of the mob."This inspiring counsel brought the assembly to its feet. In a tumult of enthusiasm it was agreed that the chairman should appoint the committee, and that the work of organization should begin at once. It was over in another ten minutes. Coleman named the committee without hesitation, and after it had held a brief session he announced that it had reported in favor of immediate organization, and added:"You are invited to put your hands to this instrument:
CHAPTER XXII
I BECOME A MAN OF BUSINESS
I was a sorry sight when I entered the house once more, with one sleeve torn from my coat, a large and growing lump over my right eye, and my clothing an impressionist study in grass-stains and earth colors.
In the excitement of the moment I was not aware of the picturesque figure I made until I saw the horror-stricken look that swept over Laura Kendrick's face as she met me in the hall.
"Oh," she cried, "you did go and get yourself murdered, after all!"
"No, indeed. I had a day's work crowded into a few minutes, but we got them driven off, and I'm as sound as a dollar." I spoke with the exultation of victory; but with the reaction from the excitement and fatigue of the battle I felt the need of a place to sit down and pull myself together.
"Then you're very well disguised," she returned anxiously. "Are those dreadful wretches all gone? Come into our hospital here--right away--and we'll wash the blood off your face, and try to put you to rights."
"How is Mr. Kendrick?" I asked, as she led me toward the "hospital."
"He has opened his eyes and said a few words. Doctor Roberts is here, and has stitched up his head, and says he will be all right in a week or two if we take good care of him."
The room set aside for the hospital had a highly professional look. Wharton Kendrick lay on the same couch on which I had left him. Doctor Roberts was bending over him, carefully adjusting the bandage on his head. Near them I was surprised to see Danny Regan of the broken leg, attended by Mercy Fillmore, while at the other side of the room, propped up in an easy chair, was Moon Ying, looking on the scene with passive wonder.
"Sit here," ordered Miss Kendrick, wheeling a big chair to the table, and I was glad to obey. "Yes," she continued, noting my scrutiny of Danny Regan and Moon Ying. "The cook complained of the groans she heard from the men's room, so we found out what had happened and had the man brought here. And just before the rocks began to fly I had run up to see about Moon Ying, so I had her carried down. It was lucky I did, for we had hardly got out of the room when bang-cling! went every window in the front of the house. I thought she had best be on the ground floor in case of fire, and this room was as safe as any in the house. My! what a bump you did get. A riot is 'most as bad as falling downstairs, isn't it?"
With deft fingers she had wiped away the stains of battle, and now she wrung out a cloth in cold water, folded it into a compress, and bound it skilfully over my swollen forehead.
I leaned back luxuriously, and gazed with admiration on my nurse.
"It's quite worth while, after all," I said.
She colored, but looked steadily at me as she worked.
"Don't get too appreciative," she said.
"Impossible!" I interrupted.
"Because," she said, "I'm coming to believe that you're not so badly hurt as your poor head looks. The blood on your face isn't yours at all, but came from somebody else--"
"You ought to see the other fellow," I murmured softly.
"--and you've been getting sympathy under false pretenses, and I really think I ought to call Jane to look after you while I attend to uncle."
"I shall sink into the last stages of dissolution," I protested, "if you turn me over to an incompetent nurse."
"Incompetent! Why, Jane is twice as competent as I."
"It depends on the complaint. I'm sure she wouldn't understand mine at all."
Laura smiled indulgently as she adjusted the last knot on the bandage.
"There," she said, "you're quite picturesque, and you'll be all right in the morning. And I don't think you need anybody to look after you at all."
I was about to protest that my condition was most serious when she was called to Wharton Kendrick's couch, and I caught Moon Ying's eyes fixed on mine. I smiled and nodded, and she beckoned me, so I wheeled my chair to her side.
"What I tell-em you?" she said. "I no go 'way, bad man come, all same shoot, fight, tly bu'n house, eh?"
"This not for you, Moon Ying," I reassured her. "Bad man come, anyhow. Plenty of that kind outside of Chinatown."
Moon Ying shook her head and pointed to Danny Regan.
"Him Li'l John's explessman--I sabby him many time come Li'l John's place."
I looked at Danny Regan's low-browed countenance, and realized that an attack of the highbinders' mercenaries had been made under cover of the larger attack of Bolton's hirelings and the anti-Chinese mob.
"I think you're right, Moon Ying," I said. "But just you sabby this: bad men in front of house, they no come from Little John; they were after Mr. Kendrick. You can claim those fellows behind the house. But you see we are no worse off for having you here. 'Twas the other fellows who broke the windows."
I was just on the point of interrogating Danny Regan as to the inspiring cause of his raid when I heard Wharton Kendrick's voice rise in querulous tones:
"Here, I must get up," he said with evident effort. "Is the city on fire?"
"After a while," said the soothing voice of the doctor. "The city is all safe, and you'll have to wait till to-morrow before you get out."
"I must look after things to-night," said the patient, his voice rising complainingly. "I must look after things."
I got to my feet and walked softly to his couch. He was vainly trying to rise, and beating the air helplessly with his hands.
"I must get out--help me, somebody!" he cried in an appealing voice. He tried to lift himself, but his body refused to obey his will.
The doctor uttered a soothing protest.
Miss Kendrick added her voice to the authority of the doctor and at her quieting words Wharton Kendrick closed his eyes. Then on a sudden he opened them widely, and again attempted to raise his head.
"It's the business--it's the business!" he cried with the voice of one who had brought a forgotten thing from the depths of his memory. "It's all upset. I must see to it, or it will be too late."
She patted him again with gentle hand.
"There--there," she said, in the comforting mother-tone. "It will be all right. You can't do anything to-night. It's after ten o'clock."
He gave a groan.
"The markets will go to smash in the morning unless we get ready for them to-night. It's all up," he moaned. "It was all in my head, and it's all gone. There'll be a smash in the market to-morrow, and I can't help it." Then he broke into passionate sobbing, while Laura Kendrick knelt over him, wiped away his tears, and made above him those murmuring sounds with which the mother comforts the hurt child.
It was with something of the awe with which one meets the earthquake that I witnessed the collapse of the fortitude and self-control in Wharton Kendrick. The foundations of the earth seemed breaking up when I saw this type of self-reliant manhood whimpering and weeping like a whipped schoolboy.
Doctor Roberts had been attending to Danny Regan of the broken leg, but he now returned to his more demonstrative patient.
"Come, come," he said in his most cheerful professional tone. "This is no way to get well. If you want to be out to-morrow, you must be quiet." And he motioned us away.
"It's all going to smash--I can hear it going," sobbed Kendrick, "and I can't remember what to do." He lay looking anxiously from side to side and repeated over and over, "I can't remember what to do."
As Doctor Roberts motioned us away again, I took him aside.
"Is there any chance of his getting down to business to-morrow?"
"Not the slightest. And he must not be excited by talking of it."
"I think I can ease his mind somewhat," I said. An idea had been slowly forming in my brain, and now it sprang forth complete. I sat down by him and took his hand to help his wandering attention.
"I'll look out for the business," I said. "I'll see Mr. Coleman to-night. We'll get the syndicate together, and protect the markets to-morrow."
"That's it--the syndicate--that's it," he cried with a visible relief. "That's what I was trying to think of--the syndicate. Coleman will know; Partridge will know."
I called for paper, pens and ink, and wrote out in duplicate a formal authorization by which Wharton Kendrick gave Arthur Hampden, his attorney, the power to act for him in all his business affairs.
In the meantime I had despatched one of my men to summon a notary who lived down by Polk Street. The official was at home, up, and dressed, and he hurried to the Kendrick house, hot on the scent of the liberal fee that the name called up before his imagination. When he had come, I read aloud the power of attorney I had drawn.
"That's it, Hampden; you won't see me go down, will you?" said my client in a pleading voice. And with some difficulty he attached his signature, and Doctor Roberts and Mercy Fillmore signed as witnesses, while the notary affixed his official acknowledgment.
Armed with this evidence of power, I started for my hat, when Miss Kendrick stopped me.
"You aren't going out in that fix, are you?" she demanded. And at her gesture I remembered my torn and one-sleeved coat, and the chiaroscuro of soil and grass stains with which I had been decorated.
"I was thinking that I should be all right if I got a hat, but I'm afraid it will take more than that to fit me out," I said ruefully. "Come to think of it, my hat is out on the lawn with the other sleeve of my coat. There's quite a collection of second-hand clothing out there, but it's rather dark to find one's own."
"Men are so fussy about their hats," said Miss Laura, "but I'll have the collection brought in from the lawn, and maybe you can make yours do for to-night. As for the coat, I'll bring down one of uncle's that's too small for him, and you won't look so very ridiculous, after all."
My headgear, when recovered, bore evidence that it had been worn on a militant heel; but when I had brought the torn edges together, I flattered myself that in the darkness it would look almost as good as new. And although the coat hung loosely upon me, and the stains of battle refused to yield to the brush, I was consoled by the thought that these departures from the rules of polite dress would add corroborative details and a livelier interest to my tale of Wharton Kendrick's undoing.
"Now, leave that bandage alone," commanded Miss Laura, as I raised my hand to complete my toilet by removing that badge of battle. "You have to wear it. And you have no idea how becoming it looks."
I submitted ruefully to this edict of petticoat tyranny, and Miss Kendrick rewarded me by escorting me to the door. She gave me her hand, and there was a look in her eyes that was near to carrying me off my feet as she said with the suspicion of a tremble in her voice:
"I hope you don't think we are not appreciating what you have done--and are doing."
"It is nothing," I said, looking into the magnetic depths of her eyes, until she dropped her glance to the floor, and blushed divinely.
"It is nothing," I repeated. Then bending, I touched my lips to her hand, and with no other word ran down the steps in a tumult of elation.
The Coleman house was alight as I rang the bell, and William T. Coleman himself appeared close on the heels of the suspicious servant who took in my card. He was able to recall the circumstances of our introduction as he gave me a cordial greeting and shook me warmly by the hand.
"I was in hopes Kendrick would come himself," he said; "but as he hasn't, I am glad he sent you."
"Mr. Kendrick didn't come because he couldn't come. He was badly hurt in to-night's riot."
"Kendrick hurt? How badly?"
I described the extent of his injuries as well as I could, and Coleman's eyes took on a troubled look.
"I wanted to consult him about affairs. A number of our leading men have been here this evening, and General McComb has agreed to issue a call for a citizens' meeting at the Chamber of Commerce to-morrow afternoon. We must devise some way to assist the authorities, and I looked to Kendrick to take a leading part."
"It will be some days before he can be out. But he is very anxious about the state of business. He is afraid there will be a smash in the markets to-morrow."
William T. Coleman smiled, and the calm sense of power that shone in his eyes gave me renewed courage.
"Kendrick was always one of the men who think that nothing will be done if they don't attend to it themselves," he said with good-natured raillery.
"Well, it's usually true, isn't it? Most things don't get done."
"A very just observation, Mr. Hampden. Most things don't get done. The man who has the brains and will to accomplish things is the invaluable man. It's our main trouble in every branch of the world's work--to find the man with ideas and the force to carry them out. But we must show Kendrick that he isn't indispensable in this crisis. Did he explain to you the state of affairs?"
"No. He could only refer me to you for details. He gave me the authorization to represent him in the syndicate, and in his business generally. It was all he was able to do."
"Well, the syndicate brought together a capital of ten million--I suppose you know that."
"Yes, but I believe it was heavily drawn on in the raid of last month."
"We had to put out close to three million six hundred thousand of loans that day, but some of it has come back since."
"Then the syndicate must have between six and seven million at its disposal."
"Over seven, I think. Kendrick could give you the figures out of his head--that is, before his head was broken--but I'll have to get them from my memoranda."
"How long do you expect that to last in a storm?"
"It ought to see us through any crisis that can arise."
"But this is a more serious occasion than the other. See our riots, and the explosion of violence in the East. Will not these frighten our business men far more than the rumors that set off the hub-bub of last month?"
Coleman leaned back in his chair, his face expressing confident cheerfulness, and his eyes magnetic with power.
"Very true," he said. "But on the other hand, the flurry of last month shook out the weaklings. Stocks and bonds are shifted into strong hands. Doubtful accounts have been closed out. We are in much better shape than before the squall struck us."
"I'm glad to hear it," I said with some relief, though the thought of Peter Bolton's malign activities weighed on my mind, and I was tempted to confide in William T. Coleman. But as Wharton Kendrick had kept the matter to himself, I followed his example, and continued: "I believe the interests of Mr. Kendrick can best be served by sustaining the markets and preventing failures. But as to details, I should like your advice."
"Well, I will read you the memorandum made at our meeting of the other night of the men and firms who are likely to need help, and the amounts it would probably be safe to lend them." And Mr. Coleman brought a sheet of paper from his desk and interpreted the cabalistic signs that covered it. The freedom with which the names of banks, business houses and individuals had been handled would have created a sensation if the paper had been published. "And here is a list of the men who have had advances," he said, taking out another sheet and reading off names and figures.
I noted down the list for reference and study.
"Do you think," asked Coleman, "that Kendrick will be able to get down to-morrow?"
"No, the doctor said it would be impossible."
"That is very awkward. The syndicate's money is deposited in his name, and he is the man to sign our checks."
I saw the advantage of keeping this power in Wharton Kendrick's hands, and suggested:
"Possibly he can attend to that part of the business at the house. I can have a line of messengers to carry the checks back and forth."
Coleman wrinkled his brows, and gave his head a forceful shake.
"That won't do. The arrangement would lose us forty minutes on every transaction. You had better get Kendrick to make out a check for the whole amount in favor of Nelson, and Nelson will look out for the details."
I was far from satisfied that this was the best way out of the difficulty. It eliminated Wharton Kendrick as a factor in the operations of the syndicate, and I had a vague but controlling feeling that this would fit badly with his plans. But I could give no sound reason for dissent from the suggestion, and at last Coleman said:
"Go to Kendrick, and ask him for the check. I'll have Nelson and Partridge here by the time you get back, and we can talk the business over more fully."
The Kendrick house was bright with lights as I reached it, and I was more annoyed than pleased to find Mr. Baldwin busily assisting Miss Kendrick, and directing the servants in the work of clearing up the broken glass and securing the open windows with boards.
Mr. Baldwin recognized me in his most superior way, and assumed his most magnificent airs of proprietorship from the top of the ladder, as he waved a hammer as his baton of command.
"Ah, Hampden," he said with a cool nod, "this is a fine mess your friends have made of things."
"Gracious, me!" exclaimed Miss Kendrick. "Is that the way friends act? I've seen men play some pretty rough pranks in the name of friendship, but I'm sure I never knew them to go so far as they did with Mr. Hampden. It's a mercy he wasn't killed. You should have seen him when he came in from the fracas!"
Mr. Baldwin appeared to be put out of countenance by this railing acknowledgment of my share in the defense of the house, and I judged by his tone that he considered it a reflection on him for being absent in the crisis.
"I had been out of town," he said stiffly, apparently for my enlightenment, "and got in on the eight o'clock boat. Later I heard that your friends were on the war-path, and threatening to burn Nob Hill and Van Ness Avenue. Then I came up here to see if I could be of service, and found that it was all over--except the repairs." And with this attempt to set himself right, he resumed his air of importance.
"Well, it's very lucky you weren't here," said Miss Kendrick. "I don't doubt you would have got your head broken, and you'd never be able to stand up on that ladder if it was going around the way Mr. Hampden's is. Oh," she cried suddenly, "what have you done with that bandage I put over your bump?"
"It came off," I said weakly, bringing the damp and offending rag out of my pocket.
"I believe you took it off," she said with an air of reprimand.
"You can put it on again," I pleaded with meek submission.
"No--it can stay off," she said. "You're getting on entirely too well to be fussed over any more. And now if you'll go in and see uncle, I'll be obliged. He has been dozing, but he comes to with a start every few minutes and asks for you. I'm hoping you can quiet his mind, for his worry isn't at all good for him." And her voice quivered with a pathetic note of affectionate anxiety.
Wharton Kendrick lay on the couch with his eyes closed, but opened them vacantly as I came in. Mercy Fillmore sat by his side. He collected himself with an effort, and said:
"I've been wanting you, Hampden! What was it you were to see about? Some business, wasn't it?" His eyes wandered, as though he were seeking for some lost thread of memory.
I gave him a condensed account of my visit to William T. Coleman. He heard me listlessly until I came to the request to make out a check for the syndicate's balance in favor of Nelson. Then he started violently, and half raised himself.
"I'll see 'em damned first!" he cried. "How can I protect myself if the money is turned over to Nelson?" He looked about wildly, fiercely; then sank back and closed his eyes.
Mercy Fillmore shook her head at me, and her eyes expressed reproach.
"You are exciting him," she whispered. "Isn't this business something that can be put off?"
He heard her and answered:
"No, it can't be put off. There'll be a smash in the market in the morning, and I shan't be there to stop it!" He had begun with energy, but his voice trailed off into a querulous tone as he added: "What shall I do? What shall I do?" Then suddenly a look of resolution came into his face. "Bring me my check-book," he cried with feverish impatience. "There's one in that coat pocket. Be quick about it!"
The book was produced, and after looking at it helplessly for a little he handed it back to me. Then he seemed to collect his faculties and asked:
"What was the balance? Why can't I remember?"
I read the figures from the memorandum Mr. Coleman had given me.
"Seven million three hundred and twenty thousand," he repeated. "Well, make out a check to yourself for that amount. Now help me up while I sign it. What are you waiting for? Give me that pen."
I was somewhat dashed by the responsibility that was being thrust upon me, but I could think of no better course. So we propped him to a sitting posture, and he signed his name somewhat unsteadily to the check.
"Now take it, Hampden," he said. "You won't see me go down, will you? Look out for my interests. They're yours, Hampden. Stand by me this time, and I'll stand by you always." His voice trailed off into indistinctness as we laid him back on the pillow, and after a struggle to speak, his face flushed a startling red, he mumbled a few incoherent sounds, and was lost to his surroundings.
Mercy Fillmore uttered a cry at this sudden change.
"Oh, I wish Doctor Roberts was back!"
"Here is Doctor Roberts," said the quiet professional voice, as the physician entered the room and stepped to his patient's side. "No more business to-night," he continued sharply. "I am afraid there will be no more for many days. I must ask you to retire, Mr. Hampden; the atmosphere is too exciting for Mr. Kendrick."
I denied myself the pleasure of interrupting Mr. Baldwin's conversation, as I went out, and hastened to the Coleman house.
Partridge and Nelson had already arrived, and I found them earnestly discussing the situation with Mr. Coleman. They greeted me with condescension, inquired civilly of the condition of Wharton Kendrick, and warmly expressed their indignation against the mob.
"Was Kendrick able to sign the check to Nelson?" asked Coleman, coming abruptly to the matter of business.
I explained, as diplomatically as I was able, the arrangement my client had made.
"Well, then," said Nelson, "it is very easily settled. All you have to do is to indorse the check over to me." And he looked at me with the self-satisfied air of the business man whose word is law to his employees.
The calm assumption that I was to be eliminated from the proceedings without so much as saying "by your leave," roused my combative instincts, and it was only by drawing a firm rein on my temper that I was able to reply calmly:
"I do not think I am justified by my instructions to take such a step."
"What do you propose to do, then?" asked Partridge shortly.
The tone in which the question was put added fire to my resentment, and I replied with emphasis:
"I shall be guided by the wishes of my client, and where he has not expressed a wish, I shall follow my own judgment."
Partridge and Nelson looked at each other.
"I think I shall go and see Kendrick," said Partridge.
"Mr. Kendrick is in a stupor, and the doctor would not permit him to be seen, even if he could be roused," I replied.
"This is very awkward," said Nelson, drumming on the table with his fingers.
"Not at all," said Coleman, in calm and tactful voice. "Mr. Hampden has the money that was intrusted to Kendrick. He has Kendrick's power of attorney. For all practical purposes he is Kendrick. He will sign the checks just as Kendrick would have signed them. Is not that your idea, Mr. Hampden?"
"You have stated exactly my understanding of my instructions, Mr. Coleman. I am ready to sign any checks that Mr. Kendrick would sign if he were here."
Partridge nodded his assent to this construction of my orders, but Nelson still looked sourly at me.
"What checks do you think he would sign?" asked Nelson.
"Why, in general, I should say that they would be any that are approved by you three gentlemen."
Nelson's face cleared and he stopped drumming on the table.
"That is satisfactory," he said. "Then we had better make our headquarters again in Mr. Kendrick's office. It is the most central location. We shall be there a little before ten o'clock."
"You had better see the bank about transferring the money to your account before the opening," said Partridge, as we rose to go. "When the fun begins, you'll have no time to waste."
CHAPTER XXIII
THE COMMITTEE OF SAFETY
I came out of the bank from my morning visit in a daze of emotions. The street was thronged with hurrying crowds. The air was electric with the tension of social storm. The echoes of the mob's outburst could be heard in the indignant comments that passed from mouth to mouth; the fears that it inspired could be read in the tense lines that it had written on men's faces. But it was all one to me. I saw and I saw not. I heard and I heard not. I walked the street stunned, overwhelmed with the conviction that an irreparable blunder had snatched the control of events from my hands, and doomed Wharton Kendrick to swift and certain ruin.
I had found the president of the Golconda Bank in his private office at a few minutes after nine o'clock, and Wharton Kendrick's card had secured me prompt admission. I had known the president slightly for several years, and he received me with brusk kindness as I stated my errand and exhibited my credentials.
"Oh, we'll arrange that for you in two minutes," he said, after he had examined my papers, and questioned me on Wharton Kendrick's condition. "Just indorse that check, and I'll have the account put in your name."
When he had sent his messenger to the cashier with his directions, he continued:
"That is a heavy responsibility you have on your shoulders to-day. There is plenty of trouble ahead. We look to the syndicate to do the work of a commercial fire-patrol." And he favored me with a few words of advice for which I professed myself grateful. He was still giving counsel, when the cashier reappeared with a troubled face.
"There's something wrong about this," he said, laying my check before the president.
"That is Kendrick's signature," said the president, scrutinizing it once more.
"But look at the figures," urged the cashier.
"Seven million three hundred and twenty thousand dollars?"
"Yes; but there is only six million eight hundred and twenty thousand in the special account on which this check is drawn."
The president drew his lips into a whistle, and then said:
"Well, we can't do anything with it, you see. You'll have to go back to Kendrick and get him to correct it."
If I had been as wise at the moment as I became by subsequent reflection I should have summoned all my powers of eloquence to convince him that the safety of the bank as a part of the commercial structure of the city lay in getting that fund promptly released for use in the coming crisis. The arguments with which I could have supported such a thesis came to me in abundance a day later. But at the moment I was stricken dumb and my wits were scattered by the thought that Wharton Kendrick had used for his own purposes a half-million dollars of the syndicate's money, and was to be dishonored before the world.
Before I could recover myself the president had bowed me out of his room, and I was mechanically guided by my subconscious self to Wharton Kendrick's office. In my bewilderment I came into collision with a man who stood by the door, and begged his pardon without getting an impression of his personality.
"Why, God bless my soul, Hampden! What's the matter with you? You run over a man without even the politeness to call out 'Hi there!' and then you look at him as though it was the first time you'd ever set eyes on him. Is this the day you pick out to send your wits a-wool-gathering? Where's Kendrick? I see by the papers there was a row up at his house last night, and he got a nasty knock on the head."
It was General Wilson, looking more fiery and self-important than ever.
"What's the matter?" he continued, slapping me jovially on the back. "Is Kendrick worse hurt than the papers say? You look as though the bank had broken."
I told the general of the assault on Kendrick and of his perilous condition, and the general puffed out his red cheeks, blew out his breath with a noise like a porpoise, and cursed the mob with a heartiness and good will that was inspiring.
"Put me in charge of this town for twenty-four hours, and I'd hang every mother's son of those agitators higher than Haman," said the general, when the ready stock of curses ran out. "That's the way to deal with 'em. But cheer up! Kendrick will be all right in a few days."
I felt an inward shrinking from telling General Wilson the rest of the woeful truth. But the truth would be the property of the street within an hour, and it could not be made worse by trusting it to even so garrulous a confidant as he. Perhaps I had a faint hope that the old campaigner might make a suggestion that would help me out of my difficulties; but the overmastering thought in my mind was that I held the position of a conductor of a runaway train that was plunging down a mountain grade to certain wreck, and it did not matter what I did or said. So taking the general into Wharton Kendrick's office, I told him my tale of the dishonored check.
He took it more calmly than I had expected. "How much did you say he's overdrawn?" he asked in businesslike tones.
"Five hundred thousand dollars."
"That was the deuce of a mistake for Kendrick to make. Can't you get him to correct it?"
I groaned out a miserable negative.
"I left there at half-past eight this morning," I returned, "and he hadn't come out of the stupor that I left him in last night."
General Wilson drew a prolonged whistle, and looked grave. Then he said:
"There's just one thing to do. Get some of Kendrick's friends to advance the half-million. Deposit it to his account. Then the bank will pay your check. Then you'll have the money, and can pay back the advance inside of one minute."
"Half a million is a big sum," I said doubtingly. "I don't know anybody who will put that up at short notice."
General Wilson threw himself back in his chair with an air of marvelous self-importance.
"Hang it, man!" he cried. "Why don't you ask me? You don't suppose that General Wilson would let his friend Kendrick go to the wall for want of a trifling favor like that, do you? I've a notion to be insulted at not being asked--hang me if I haven't!"
I grasped his hand, and expressed my opinion of his offer in dumb show. There was a painful task before me, however, and as it could not be postponed, I hastened to perform it.
"You're a trump, General Wilson, but I can't take up with your offer."
"Why not?"
"Because," I said slowly, "I can't pay back the five hundred thousand if you advance it."
"What do you mean?" demanded General Wilson in bewilderment.
"Well, I am afraid that the figures on the check are correct."
"Correct? How's that?"
"They are the figures of the balance of the syndicate's fund deposited in Wharton Kendrick's hands. They show the amount of money that ought to be in the bank--and it isn't there."
General Wilson drew another long whistle, and his face suddenly became grave again.
"Then he has used half a million of the syndicate's money?"
"I suppose so."
"What in the name of common sense did he do that for?" demanded the general irritably.
"I suppose he was sure he could make it up when the time came," I said in feeble defense.
"They always are," said the general grimly.
"Oh, I have no doubt he had everything calculated out to the last dollar," I returned. "The only thing he didn't calculate on was this knock on the head. If he was on his feet he would have the money in five minutes."
"Well, I suppose he would," said the general. "But he isn't on his feet, and what's the result?"
"The result is smash," said I with grim despair. "Partridge, Nelson and Coleman will be here inside of twenty minutes. When they set foot inside that door, Wharton Kendrick had better be dead."
General Wilson studied vacancy for a minute. Then he said slowly:
"You said you got a power of attorney out of Kendrick, didn't you?"
I handed him the paper I had drawn and Wharton Kendrick had signed.
He studied it carefully, and then nodded his head as though it met his approval. At last he said:
"Well, then, there's a way out. I was coming in this morning to put through that swamp-land deal. Why, you were at Kendrick's on Sunday when I told him that he was going to accept eight hundred thousand for that land, and he hemmed and hawed, and told me to come in this morning. Of course I could see in his eye that he was going to take me up, but he was playing coy. Now I'll make you the offer I would make him if he was here. I'll pay you five hundred thousand down, balance in thirty days, or when deed passes." He looked at me with a mixture of business shrewdness and bluff friendship.
"I'll take the responsibility of accepting that offer," I said promptly. And General Wilson drew his check and scribbled a few lines on a sheet of paper.
"Here, sign this receipt and memorandum of agreement, and give me that power of attorney; I'll have it recorded," he said. "Now take that check and get over to the bank as quick as the Lord'll let you. We'll make out the contract in due form this afternoon, and I'll get that on record, too." Then he chuckled jovially, and gave me another slap on the back as he added: "Stick to me, and I'll make a Napoleon of Finance out of you yet, Hampden."
Until I felt the sudden rebound of my spirits when I saw the check in my hand, I did not realize how horribly I had been scared. I was in a position to appreciate the feelings of a man who felt his house tumbling about his ears in a mighty earthquake, and had waked to find it only a nightmare. But I thanked General Wilson calmly, and rushed hurriedly over to the bank. I had small difficulty in impressing the president with the importance of haste; and the account was cleared and entered in my name before the opening hour.
As I returned to the office I met William T. Coleman coming away. His face was calm with resolute strength, and his eyes carried the magnetic inspiration of courage.
"I just looked in to tell you that I can't sit with your committee for an hour or two," he said. "I have some other irons in the fire; but I'll be in later. Partridge and Nelson are there now, and whatever they approve will be satisfactory to me. If you get at loggerheads, send for me, and I'll come."
His manner more than his words put me in heart with the assurance that I should not have to stand alone in battle, and I hastened with fresh confidence to take my place in the council.
"They're hammering things pretty hard on the exchanges," said Partridge after greetings had been made. "Prices are holding up well, so far, but I guess we'll have to put a brace under some of those fellows inside of half an hour." And with a clouded brow he studied the strip that came from the ticker.
"Carey and Son are shaky," said Nelson. "So are Benbow and Johnson, and a dozen others. And worst of all we've got to put some more coin into those confounded banks."
"It's like throwing the money away," groaned Partridge. "They can't put up collateral that a gambler would look at."
Nelson adjusted his gold-rimmed eye-glasses to look at his list of suspects, and gave his head a shake.
"Well, we've got to keep them afloat till these troubles are over," he said with decision.
"And the infernal part of it is," said Partridge, "that those fellows know it. I'd give a thousand dollars out of my own pocket, if we could let them drop without hurting any one else." And he resumed his study of the ticker with an irritated face.
The noise of the shouting crowds that filled and surrounded the exchanges floated up through the windows, rising and falling like the roar of ocean breakers. There was a curious variation of quality in the swelling volumes of sound. Now it expressed apprehension; now desperation; and again there was the tonic roar of exultation rising above the lesser cries.
We had not been in consultation ten minutes when the first application for support came from a pale but assertive man who tried to conceal his desperation under an air of bluster.
"Manning, of Smith and Manning," whispered Nelson to me, as the man entered the door.
He began to explain his business in roundabout phrase.
"Never mind that, Manning," said Partridge. "You're in the door, and you'll be squeezed if we don't help you. That's the long and short of it. How much are you in for, and what security can you offer? Let's see those papers. They tell the story, don't they?"
Manning wiped his forehead, with a sigh, and looked relieved rather than hurt at Partridge's abruptness.
"Five thousand will pull us through," he gasped.
"No it won't," said Partridge, running over the papers. "Here's another note for thirty-five hundred. Einstein and Company won't wait. This is a pretty poor showing. No wonder the bank wouldn't carry you any longer!"
"We can get along all right if we get out of this hole," pleaded Manning.
"Well, we'll take up these two claims on your note for thirty days," said Partridge after a telegraphic glance at Nelson and me. "Sign here."
I made out the checks, and Manning, once more putting on his blustering air as he would have put on an overcoat, went out to face his enemies.
From this time on, there was a steady stream of applicants, some frankly admitting their desperate condition, some trying to conceal their fears under an assumption of confidence. But whatever of pretense a man had covered himself with to enter our office was ruthlessly stripped from him as soon as he made his request for money. For one minute of the day, at least, he had to face the truth, and to see himself as he was. I soon discovered that Partridge's judgment of commercial paper was quick and sure. Nelson and I recognized our inferiority and promptly deferred to his opinions. Only once during the day did we overrule him, and in that instance we acted rather on an inspiration of mercy than on our commercial judgment.
"His paper is no good, and he wouldn't carry anybody else with him if he went to the wall," objected Partridge, when the man we had insisted on saving from ruin had gone out.
"The paper is bad," admitted Nelson, "but the man is all right. I like his looks."
"Yes," I added, "we have double the chance of getting the money back from him that we have of getting it from that fat, oily-tongued fellow who stood us up for twenty thousand a few minutes ago."
I was pleased to remind Partridge of the incident a few months later when our protégé redeemed his obligation in full at the same time that the oily-tongued heavy-weight compromised for thirty cents on the dollar.
But despite this temporary disagreement I was none the less ready to follow Partridge's judgment on the cases that came before us. And after the cross-questioning of the applicant was over, Nelson and I rarely refused a nod of assent to his inquiring glance. His comments ran something like this, as the stream of the financially lame, halt and blind passed before us:
"That's all tommyrot--you don't need the half of that. Seven thousand will pull you through. Here! what do you mean by coming to us? Any bank in the city would take that collateral. No. Not a dollar unless you will make over your stock to Nelson as trustee. Here! you'll have to get your brother to sign that note. Take it now. He'll do it, when you tell him that we won't touch it without. That collateral is no good; I know you've got better. Don't waste our time, unless you're willing to show it. See here! you'll need more than that. What do you mean by telling us that you owe only ten thousand when your balance-sheet here calls for eighteen? Come now, do you think we are running a charity soup-house? You've got unencumbered real estate; raise your money on that."
We had been at this work close upon two hours when William T. Coleman returned. He brought a list of merchants who would need assistance, and the amounts that we might safely advance them.
"There's a very scary feeling outside," he said. "There are all sorts of rumors about plots to burn the city, and some men are foolish enough to say that San Francisco is going to be worse than Pittsburgh."
"That's not impossible," said Nelson.
"I know there has been plenty of talk in the anti-coolie clubs about burning the Pacific Mail steamers," I said. "But I don't think they will have the courage for it."
"It's only a question of leadership," said Coleman, "and that may develop at any minute. A mob is a queer creature. You can't tell what it will do. It is a coward by itself, but it is often capable of great courage when it has a leader--sometimes when it thinks it has a leader."
"What we need is troops," said Nelson. "I hope, Coleman, that you will use your influence with Bryant and Governor Irwin to get the militia called out. They ought to ask for Federal troops. There'll be no nonsense where they are stationed. They shoot to kill."
"You might bring your plans before the citizens' meeting this afternoon," said Coleman shortly.
Partridge had been studying the ticker intently, and now growled:
"There's somebody raising the devil out there in the stock-market. He's got the El Dorado Bank behind him by the looks of things, and he's whacking at prices with a sledge-hammer."
The name of this modern practitioner in the black art was on the tip of my tongue, but I kept it from escaping. If Wharton Kendrick had not revealed it in the course of the previous raid, it was evidently my cue to keep still.
The contest grew hotter as the day advanced. The waiting-room was filled with anxious men, and we watched with concern the growing total of advances we had been compelled to make. The Sundown Bank had to be rescued twice from imminent failure, and two other banks called upon us for loans. We had groaned at the character of the collateral offered by the Sundowners, but there was no help for it. We had to advance enough to keep their doors from closing, or the wreck would have begun; and once under way at this troublous juncture we saw no limit to the ruin ahead. But at last it was over. Three o'clock came, the banks closed, and rumor and fear could only threaten of trouble to come.
"Well, there's a hard day gone," said Partridge with a sigh of relief.
"And another one just beginning," said Coleman placidly.
"How do we stand now?" asked Nelson.
"We paid out three million seven hundred and ninety-eight thousand," I returned, glancing at the figures.
"That leaves us--?"
"Three million five hundred and twenty-two thousand."
"That is too small a margin for safety," said Coleman with decision. "This thing isn't over yet. I thought we would have enough to carry us through, but I see we must have more. You'll have to get out, Partridge, and you, too, Nelson, and see what can be done in the way of raising more money."
"I suppose it has got to be done," said Partridge. "We can't afford to go broke now." And Nelson nodded assent.
Coleman then turned to me: "It's time we were going over to the citizens' meeting," he said. "I've promised to preside. We are to meet in the Chamber of Commerce rooms, over here." And taking me by the arm, he led me out of the office.
During the stress of the day's business, we had come into close relations, and I had been more than ever impressed with the vigorous sense of this man. He displayed on that small field all the qualities of leadership demanded in the management of a nation. His resource and calm strength of mind inspired me with an unwonted warmth of admiration, and I could even then think only with regret of the ruler and statesman who had been smothered into the habit of a painstaking merchant. The generous emotions of hero-worship thrilled within me, and I was delighted to find that my admiration was repaid with a show of liking and confidence.
"There is one thing I am apprehensive about," he said, as we climbed the stairs to the Chamber of Commerce. "This meeting is a necessary thing, but it seems to have roused anxiety rather than allayed it. I hope that the speeches will be of a character to inspire confidence in our ability to handle the situation. If we don't inspire that confidence, we shall do more mischief than good."
As we entered the hall, we saw that it was already well filled with the solid men of the city. Mayor Bryant was there with the chief of police. General McComb nodded to me, and hastened to speak to Coleman. Members of the state and city governments, bankers, merchants, and a sprinkling of other classes of society were to be seen in the groups about the room.
There was more of cheerful calmness about the meeting than I had expected to find. The fact that these men were present was proof that they felt the emergency to be grave; but their talk was flavored with the saving salt of American humor that no calamity can suppress, and inspired by the optimistic American sentiment that "it will all come out right somehow."
I had scarce found a seat when General McComb with his most impressive military air called the meeting to order. When the company had been reduced to silence, he continued:
"I have taken the liberty of sending out the circulars that requested you to meet here for the purpose of considering the safety of the city. The people see in Monday night's outbreak the dangers that come when the passions of the mob are given full sway. An honored citizen has been struck down, property has been destroyed, and threats of worse things to come are heard on every side. In this emergency we should organize to give the city the protection essential to its preservation. We have with us a man who has twice come forward to lead the loyal citizens in the task of putting down the lawless and criminal elements of the city. I ask that William T. Coleman be chosen as chairman of this meeting."
The response left no doubt that Mr. Coleman was the assembly's unanimous choice. The men who had gathered there looked toward him with as unquestioning confidence as ever soldiers looked to their captain. And at the shout that answered General McComb, he walked to the chair with the assured step of a man accustomed to command.
"I thank you for your confidence," he said. "I have not thought, I do not think, that there is any pressing danger. But I recognize the moral value of organization in times of disquiet, and I am here to assist in putting the physical force of the city at the disposition of the authorities. I have not seen any need for augmenting the military or police forces of the city. But General McComb and Mayor Bryant, who have had better opportunities than I to observe the situation, have thought differently. Therefore let us take precautions. The people of this city have proved through many trials that they are essentially law-abiding. But there is a dangerous element here--an element of lawless young men who do not think of results, and who do not shrink from violence. If I had not realized this fact before, I should have been forced to acknowledge it when one of my closest friends fell a victim last night to their anger. But I have full confidence in the manhood of San Francisco. If the city is threatened by a rising of the disorderly elements I am ready to assure the authorities that a force of twenty thousand men can be raised, if need be, for the defense of our homes and property."
A silence followed the applause evoked by this speech. If the speaker expressed more confidence than he felt, his words accomplished their purpose of rousing the courage of the assembly before him. Then a mild-faced man rose, and in halting voice asked the privilege of putting a question.
"Mr. Chairman," he began, "why are not the constituted authorities sufficient to cope with this outbreak? We have police. We have a militia. They are the lawful arm of government to chastise the evil-doer. Why are they not competent to handle the hoodlum mobs?"
General McComb was touched to the quick by the question thus put, and rose with an air of military dignity.
"I can answer for the militia," he said with some asperity. "There is no more loyal and competent body anywhere than the one I have the honor to command. But the troops must be supported by the assurance that they have the moral and physical backing of law-abiding citizens. That is why I have asked you to meet us here. I have no doubt you would like to hear from our worthy mayor on the needs of the city in this emergency."
Mayor Bryant got to his feet at this indirect appeal, and a much troubled mayor he appeared. I doubted not from his expression that he would have welcomed some plan by which his office might be administered on the model of those German newspapers whose editors delegate to some hireling the responsibilities that lead tolèse-majestéand the jail, and pursue their way undisturbed by thoughts of consequences.
"I approve the proposed organization of citizens to coöperate with the municipal authorities," he began in halting and anxious tones. "It will help us to keep the peace. But there wasn't so much violence last night as some have thought. The body of the meeting was orderly. The trouble came only from the hoodlums who broke off from it in droves to commit violence. The responsible men of the labor organizations who were present have called on me to say that they had no idea that the hoodlums would take advantage of the meeting to create disorder."
Several military men followed the mayor with speeches of a fiery nature, and advocated stern measures to subdue the riotous elements. At these outbursts of martial ardor I could see Coleman's mouth tighten imperceptibly into lines of disapproval and determination. At last his growing impatience could be restrained no longer, and he interrupted a resplendent militia colonel who was in full flight of an oration calling for "action at once."
"I understand this subject," said Coleman with decision, "and you don't. This is a matter that should not be discussed too fully or too publicly. But since so much has been said, I will inform you, gentlemen, that you don't know the mine you are standing on. The safety or destruction of the city hangs on a pivot. There must be more spirit shown by the law-abiding elements, or the balance will turn toward destruction. There must be action, not talk. I do not want to accuse anybody of lethargy, but the fact is there are too many men who call for the suppression of disorder, and then go home and leave somebody else to attend to their protection. The men who most deserve protection are those who are ready to take arms in their hands to get it."
"Well, what course would you advise this meeting to take?" asked General McComb.
"Organize at once," said the chairman in vigorous tones. "Appoint a central committee--say of twenty-four. Then open rolls for men to sign, pledging their persons and their money to protect the wives, children and fortunes that are now at the mercy of the mob."
This inspiring counsel brought the assembly to its feet. In a tumult of enthusiasm it was agreed that the chairman should appoint the committee, and that the work of organization should begin at once. It was over in another ten minutes. Coleman named the committee without hesitation, and after it had held a brief session he announced that it had reported in favor of immediate organization, and added:
"You are invited to put your hands to this instrument: