Port O' Gold Part 36

"Something like it," Windham answered. "Do you remember when I went to the mines I met a man named Burthen? Alice's father, you know. We had a mining claim together," His brow clouded. "He was murdered at the Eldorado.... Well, that's neither here nor there.... But it left me the claim. I didn't think it was worth much. But I've sold it to an Eastern syndicate."

"Good!" cried Broderick. "Congratulations."

They shook hands. "Ten thousand," Benito informed him. "We've had an offer for the ranch, too. Company wants to make it into small allotments.... Think of that! A few years ago we were far in the country. Now it's suburban property. They're even talking of street cars."

At Vigilante Headquarters Benito found unusual activity. Drays were backing up to the doors, unloading bedding, cots, a number of cook-stoves. Men were carrying in provisions. Coleman came out with Bluxome. They surveyed the work a moment, chatting earnestly, then parted.

"We're equipping a commissary and barracks," thus a member informed Benito. "Doesn't look much like disbanding, does it? The Chivs. think we're through. No such luck. This is costing me $50 a day in my business," he sighed. "We've got a dozen blacklegs, shoulder-strikers and ballot-stuffers in there now, awaiting trial. We've turned all the petty offenders over to the police."

Benito laughed. "And have you noticed this: The Police Courts are convicting every single one of them promptly!"

"Yes, they're learning their lessons ... but we've trouble ahead. These Southerners and politicians have the Governor in their pocket. He's sent two men to Washington to ask the President for troops. Farragut has been asked to bombard the city. He's refused. But General Wool has promised them arms from Benicia if the Governor and Sherman prove that anarchy exists."

"They can't," Benito contended.

"Not by fair means, no.... But that won't stop them. Yesterday Chief Justice Terry of the Supreme Court issued a habeas corpus writ for Billy Mulligan, Harrison came down today and served it."

"What happened?" asked Benito, eagerly.

"Well, the hotheads wanted to resist--to throw him out. But Bluxome saw through the scheme--to get us on record as defying Federal authority. So he hid Billy Mulligan and let Harrison search. Of course he found no one. We were politely regretful."

"Which settles that," remarked Benito, chuckling.

"Not so fast, old boy!" the other Vigilante cautioned. "Harrison's no fool. He couldn't go back outwitted.... So he simply lied. Wrote on the warrant, 'service resisted by force.'"

On the following day Major General Sherman of the State Militia received the following doc.u.ment, dated "Executive Department, Sacramento, June 2d, 1856":

Information having been received by me that an armed body of men are now organized in the City and County of San Francisco, in this State, in violation of law; and that they have resisted the due execution of law by preventing a service of a writ of habeas corpus duly issued; and that they are threatening other acts of violence and rebellion against the const.i.tution and the laws of the State; you are hereby commanded to call upon such number as you may deem necessary of the enrolled militia, or those subject to military duty, also upon all the voluntary independent companies of the military division under your command--to report, organize, etc., and act with you in the enforcement of the law.

J. NEELY JOHNSON.

Two days after the Governor's proclamation half a dozen of the prisoners in "Fort Gunnybags" were exiled by the Vigilance Committee. Each, after a regular and impartial trial, was found guilty of offenses against the law. The sentence was banishment, with death as the penalty for return.

Under a strong guard of Vigilance Committee police the malodorous s.e.xtet were marched through town, and placed aboard the steamer Hercules. A squad of Vigilantes remained until the vessel left her dock to see that they did not escape. Thus did the Committee answer Governor Johnson's proclamation. The fortification of the Vigilante Headquarters went on.

Hundreds of gunnysacks filled with sand were piled in front of the building as a protection against artillery fire. This continued for days until a barricade ten feet high and six feet thick had been erected with embrasures for cannon and a loop-holed platform for riflemen. Cannon were placed on the roof of the building where the old Monumental firebell had been installed as a tocsin of war.

In the meantime Sherman was enrolling men. They came in rather fast, most of them law-breakers seeking protection, and a small minority of reputable citizens honestly opposed to Vigilante methods. But the armories were bare of rifles and ammunition. Sherman dispatched a hasty requisition to General Wool, reminding him of his promise. Days pa.s.sed and no arms arrived. The new recruits were calling for them. Some of them drilled with wooden staves and were laughed at. They quit in disgust. Then Sherman went to Sacramento. Something was wrong. Johnson, nervous and distraught, showed him a letter from General Wool. It was briefly and politely to the effect that he had no authority to issue arms without a permit from the War Department.

Sherman, always for action, seized his hat. "Come," he said, as though the Governor were a subaltern. "We'll go to Benicia. We must have a talk with General Wool." And the Governor went.

But Wool, though courteous, proved obdurate. The militia remained unarmed.

CHAPTER XLVIII

SHERMAN RESIGNS

On Sat.u.r.day, June 7, Benito found Coleman sitting at his desk in the executive chamber of Fort Gunnysacks. His usually cheerful countenance wore an anxious look, a look of inner conflict. He glanced up, almost startled, as Benito entered.

"Fred Macondray and his party are outside," said Windham. "They would like to see you."

"What do they wish?" asked Coleman in a hara.s.sed tone.

"They're leaving for Benicia today to see the Governor," Benito answered. "Want your final word on mediation matters."

Coleman rose with a brisk movement. He paced the room half a dozen times, his hands behind him, his head slightly bent, before he spoke.

"Bring 'em in. Call Bluxome and as many of the Executive Committee as you can find."

Benito departed. Presently there filed into the room nine gentlemen, headed by Macondray. They belonged neither to the Vigilantes nor to the Law and Order Party. And they were now bent on averting a clash between the two.

"William," Macondray, acting as the spokesman, "what message shall we take the Governor?"

Bluxome, Smiley, Dempster and others of the Executive Committee entered.

Coleman explained to them the purpose of Macondray and his friends.

"What shall we say to them, boys?" he asked.

"Put it in your own words," Bluxome said. "We'll stand by what you say."

Coleman faced Macondray and his companions. "Tell J. Neely Johnson," he announced, "that if he will consent to withdraw his proclamation we will, on our part, make no further parade of our forces on the street, nor will we resist by force any orders of the court."

Bluxome and his companions nodded. Macondray looked a trifle puzzled.

"Suppose he declines to withdraw the proclamation?" he asked, hesitatingly.

"Then," the voice of Coleman rang, "we promise nothing."

On the boat which took them to Benicia, Macondray and his friends met Major-General Sherman of the State Militia. They found him striding up and down the deck, chewing his cigar. Macondray and he compared notes.

Sherman had been summoned for an interview with Johnson. The Governor planned a final onslaught of persuasion, hoping General Wool would change his mind; would furnish arms for the militia.

"If he doesn't, it's useless. Men can't fight without guns." Macondray thought he noted an undertone of relief in Sherman's words.

"Do you think he'll give them to you?" Macondray asked in an undertone.

Sherman slowly shook his head. He walked away, as though he dreaded further questioning.

At Benicia, Sherman and the Macondray party rode up in the same 'bus to the Solano House. Sherman was admitted at once. The committee was asked to wait. Sherman entered a room blue with tobacco smoke. It contained four men, besides the Governor: Chief Justice David S. Terry, a tall man with a hard face, sat tilted back in a chair, his feet on the Governor's table. He had not taken off his hat. Without moving or apparently looking in that direction, he spat at regular intervals toward the fireplace. Near him sat Edward S. Baker, statesmanlike, impressive, despite his drink-befuddlement; Edward Jones, of Palmer, Cook & Co., smaller, shrewd, keen and avaricious-eyed, was pouring a drink from a decanter; Volney Howard, fat, pompous, aping a blase, decadent manner, stood, as usual, near the mantel.

They all looked up as Sherman entered. Terry favored him with a half-concealed scowl; Howard with an open sneer; Jones with deprecating hostility. Baker smiled. The Governor, who seemed each day to grow more nervous and irritable, held out his hand.