Port O' Gold Part 32

He read the oath: "I do solemnly swear to act with the Vigilance Committee and second and sustain in full all their actions as expressed through the executive committee."

"That's good!" "That's the ticket!" affirmed a score of voices. Coleman held up a quill pen invitingly, "Who'll be first to sign?"

"You, Mr. Coleman," said Benito firmly, "you must be our chief."

A cheer followed. Coleman demurred but in vain. They would have no one else. So, at last he put his name upon the paper, adding after it "No. 1."

Others came up and affixed their signatures: C.J. Dempster, the Post brothers, Alfred Rix, P.G. Childs and so on. Bluxome, relieved from his post, was No. 33. It proved in after days a potent numeral for it represented the secretarial seal on doc.u.ments which spelled doom to evildoers; hope, law and order to an outraged populace.

Meanwhile, McGowan, Scannell and his clan had not been idle. On the night of the shooting one hundred men proceeded to the Pacific street wharf where the Coliah and Seabird were anch.o.r.ed. From each of these, by force of arms, but with a promise of return, they took a ship's cannon which they dragged by means of two long ropes, uphill to the county stronghold.

On Thursday morning Mayor Van Ness stalked into Turner, Lucas & Company's bank and b.u.t.ton-holed the manager. This was William T.

Sherman, late of the United States army.

"Sherman," said Van Ness excitedly, "is it true that you've been appointed major-general in charge of the second division of the California Militia?"

"It is," retorted Sherman. His calm demeanor as he answered, without even looking up from the stock sheets which engrossed him, contrasted sharply with the fuming unrest of Van Ness. The latter now seized Sherman's sleeve.

"Lay those down and come with me," he urged. "We need you instantly.

Armed mobs are organizing to destroy the jail and seize the city government. It's your duty, sir, your manifest duty--"

"All right, mayor," Sherman said, "I'll go along." He called a clerk and gave some orders. Then he slipped the stock sheets into a drawer and took his hat from a peg.

They strode along together, Van Ness gesturing and talking; Sherman's head slightly bent as if in thought. Now and then he asked a curt question.

The crowd about the jail had dwindled to a few curiosity seekers. The center of public interest had shifted to Know Nothing Hall where Vigilantes were still enrolling.

Sherman and Van Ness found Sheriff Scannell, Ned McGowan, Billy Mulligan and the prisoner Casey in vehement consultation. They welcomed the soldier and mayor with manifest relief.

"I'm glad you came," said Mulligan, "things look bad. There'll be h.e.l.l poppin'--if that d---- fool dies."

"If you are referring to Mr. King, speak of him with respect." Sherman's tone was like a whiplash. The soldier turned to Scannell. "How many men have you? Men on whom you can depend in a crisis?"

Scannell hesitated. "A hundred maybe ... but," he looked at Sherman hopefully, "there's your militia. Some of them served last night."

"They've refused further service," said Van Ness. "I'm told that most of them have gone over to the Vigilantes ... and taken their arms along."

Sherman stroked his chin. "This place is not impregnable by any means,"

he remarked. "The first thing we must do is to secure the buildings on each side."

"Too late," groaned Scannell. "I tried to find lodgings for some of my guards at Mrs. Hutchinson's boarding house. She slammed the door in my face. I tried the other side and found that Coleman and Bluxome had an option on it. They've already sent men to guard both places."

"Then," Sherman told them, "you cannot defend this jail against a well planned attack. Perhaps they'll not resort to force," he added hopefully. "The Governor's coming down to talk with Coleman."

CHAPTER XLIII

GOVERNOR JOHNSON MEDIATES

On the second day after the shooting, Governor J. Neely Johnson arrived on the evening boat. Mayor Van Ness had sent him a panicky message, imploring him to drop all else and hasten to San Francisco. The Mayor and William K. Garrison met him at the dock. They almost pushed the Governor into a carriage which was driven hastily to the International Hotel.

In his room, behind closed doors, the Governor spoke a trifle irritably: "What the devil's all this row about, Van Ness? The town seems quiet enough. You spoke of civil war."

"Coleman's organized another Vigilance Committee," Garrison took it upon himself to answer. "You know how impulsive San Franciscans are. They're in for anything. Two thousand have already joined. They've bought all the arms in town except a few that Sheriff Scannell seized in the militia armories. Scannell's sent out a hurry call for deputies--"

"But," broke in the Governor, incredulously, "you say Coleman's doing this. I can't believe it. Coleman's a good man, a quiet fellow. He's my friend. I'll go to him at once."

He rose, but Garrison, the politic, raised his hand. "Let him come to you. Summon him. The effect is much better."

"As you say," acceded Johnson with a smile. "Send for Coleman, with my compliments." He resumed his seat and picked up an Evening Bulletin, shaking his head. "Poor King, I hear he's dying."

"A dangerous man," remarked Garrison as he left the room.

"He is a lot less dangerous alive--than dead," the Mayor shivered. "As a reformer he'd soon have ceased to interest the public. n.o.body interests them long. But as a martyr!" he threw up his hands. "G.o.d help San Francisco!"

They discussed the dangers of a public outbreak till a knock at the door interrupted them.

It proved to be Garrison, accompanied by the Vigilante chief. "h.e.l.lo, Coleman," the Governor greeted, cordially. The two shook hands. "What's this I hear about your Vigilante recrudescence?" He smote his hands together with a catechising manner. "What do you people want?"

"We want peace," responded Coleman.

"And, to get it, you prepare for war. What do you expect to accomplish?"

"What the Vigilantes did in '51--"

Briefly and concisely he outlined the frightful condition of affairs in San Francisco; the straining of public patience to its present breaking point.

"Now, Governor," he said, impressively, "you've been called on by the Mayor and a certain cla.s.s to bring out the militia and put down this movement. I a.s.sure you it cannot be done. It's not the way to treat the question...."

"What is the way, then?" Johnson asked, aggressively.

"Allow us to clean our Augean stables without more than a formal opposition from the State. Issue your necessary proclamations to maintain the dignity of the law. But don't interfere with our work. We shall get through with it quickly--and be glad to quit, I promise you."

He rose and Johnson with him. Suddenly the Governor slapped the Vigilante chief a rousing whack upon the shoulder. "Go ahead, old boy!

But hurry up. There is terrible opposition. Terrific pressure."

Turn Verein Hall that evening was a busy place. A dozen companies were drilling on the big gymnasium floor. Men who had never shouldered guns were executing orders with an ardor and a concentration which concealed much awkwardness of unfamiliarity.

The garb and condition of recruits were vividly diversified. Doctor, teamster, lawyer, stevedore and banker, they were actuated by a common spirit, working through the manual of arms together, conscious of no caste.

Benito and Adrian, who had come in late, surveyed the drilling. Warren Olney, big and forceful, gave them cordial welcome. "You're both in my company," he informed them. "We've graded all the signers of the roll according to their numbers. That is, the first hundred signers make the first company, the second hundred another. And so on."