"That"s the ticket!" cried an enthusiast near Keith and Johnny. "Here come the militia boys! Now we"ll soon have the jail!"
The bayonets bobbed steadily through the crowd, deployed in front of the jail, and turned to face the mob. A great groan went up.
"Sold!" cried the enthusiast.
These were volunteers from the Law and Order party, hastily armed from the militia armouries, and thrown in front of the jail for its protection.
Immediately they had taken position the jail door opened, and there appeared a rather short, carefully dressed man, with side whiskers, carrying his hat in his hand. He stood for a moment, appealing for attention, one arm upraised. Little by little the noise died down.
"Who is that?" inquired Johnny.
He received no reply from Keith, but the enthusiast informed him:
"That"s our beloved mayor--Van Ness," said he.
When quiet had at length been restored, Van Ness addressed them:
"You are here creating an excitement," he said, "which may lead to occurrences this night which will require years to wipe out. You are now labouring under great excitement, and I advise you quietly to disperse. I a.s.sure you the prisoner is safe. Let the law have its course and justice will be done."
Up to this point Van Ness had been listened to with respect, but at the last word he received such a chorus of jeers and cat calls that he retired hastily.
"How about Richardson?" they demanded of him. "Where"s the law in Cora"s case?" "To h.e.l.l with such justice!"
"Not the popular orator," observed Johnny Fairfax.
More soldiers came, and then more, at short intervals, until the square was filled with shining bayonets. Johnny was frankly disgusted. As a man of action he too well understood that this particular crisis was practically over. From this mob the jail was safe.
"They lost their chance talking," he said. "They ought to have rushed the jail first pop. Now the whole thing will fizzle out slowly. Let"s go get supper."
Without reply Keith descended from his perch. They hunted some time for a restaurant. All were closed for the sufficient reason that their staffs were on the streets. Finally they discovered a Chinese chop house prepared to serve them, and here they ate. Johnny was voluble in his scorn for the manner in which a golden opportunity had been allowed to slip by. Keith was very taciturn.
"Let"s get out of here," he said abruptly at last. "Let"s get some news."
They learned that King was still alive, though badly wounded in the left breast; that he could not be moved; that he was attended by Dr.
Beverly Cole and a half score of the best surgeons of the city; that a ma.s.s meeting had been called at the Plaza. Indeed, there could be no doubt that the centre of excitement had been shifted to the Plaza. Men by thousands, all armed, were marching in that direction. Johnny and Keith found the square jammed, but the latter led the way by devious alleys to the rear of the Monumental headquarters, and so out to a little second-story balcony.
Below them the faces of the packed ma.s.s of humanity showed white in the dim light from the street lamps and the buildings. Arms gleamed. Every roof top, every window, every balcony was crowded. From the latter vehement orators held forth. All wanted to talk at once. Some of these people were, as our chronicler of the time quaintly expresses it, "considerably tight." Keith looked them all over with an appraising eye, listening at the same time to incendiary speeches advising the battering down of the jail and the hanging of all its inmates.
Occasionally one of the cooler headed would get in a few words, but invariably was interrupted by some well-meaning hot head.
There seemed to be a great diversity of opinion both among the people on the balcony and those below. Keith listened attentively for a time, then, with the abruptness that had characterized his movements and decisions since the moment he had heard the news of King"s a.s.sa.s.sination, he turned away.
"Let"s go," he said briefly.
"Oh, hold on!" cried Johnny, aghast. "It"s just the shank of the evening! We"ll miss all the fun."
"There"ll be nothing done," said Keith with decision.
"I"m more in hopes," persisted Johnny. "I"ll bet there are ten thousand men here, armed and angry, and getting angrier every minute. They could fairly eat up that lot at the jail."
"They won"t," said Keith.
"I"ll bet one good man could turn them loose in a minute."
Suddenly Keith"s dour taciturnity broke. "You"re perfectly right," he conceded; "but the point is that good men won"t lead a rabble. If we"re to have good leaders we must have something for them to lead. If we"re to cure these conditions, we must do things in due order. This cannot be remedied by mere excitement nor by deeds done under excitement. I have not yet seen anything that promises either satisfaction or reform."
"What do you propose doing, then?" asked Johnny, his intuitions again satisfying him that here was the man to tie to.
"Walk about," replied Keith.
They walked about. In the course of the evening they looked in on a dozen meetings of which they had news--in the Pioneer Club, in rooms over the old Bella Union, in a saloon off Montgomery Street, at the offices of various merchants. Keith looked carefully over the personnel of each of these various meetings, listened a minute or so, and went out. By some of the men so gathered Johnny was quite impressed, but Keith shook his head.
"These meetings are being held by clubs or cliques," he explained his disbelief in them. "They influence a certain following, but not a general following. This must be a general movement or none at all. The right people haven"t taken hold."
About midnight he unexpectedly announced that he was going home and to bed. Johnny was frankly scandalized.
"I think nothing will happen in this matter," said Keith,
"The time for mob violence has pa.s.sed. If an attack were now to be made, I should consider it unfortunate, and should not want to be mixed up in it, anyway. A mob attack is nothing but a manifestation of sheer lawlessness."
"And you"re keen for the dear law, of course," said Johnny with sarcasm.
"There is a difference between mere laws and the law. There is a time--either here or coming soon--when laws may be broken that justice may be done. But no popular movement will succeed unless it has behind it the solemn, essential human law. Good-night."
LIV
On this same afternoon of King"s a.s.sa.s.sination Nan Keith, was expecting Sansome in for tea. Afternoon tea was then an exotic inst.i.tution, practically unknown in California society. Ben Sansome was about the only man of Nan"s acquaintance who took it as a matter of course, without either awkwardness, embarra.s.sment, or ill-timed jest. The day had been fine, and several times she had regretted her promise as she cast an eye at the glow over the gilt-edged tops of the western hills.
The sunset through the Golden Gate must to-day be very fine.
And Ben Sansome had failed her! She had made certain little especial preparations--picked flowers, herself cut the sandwiches thin, put on her most becoming tea gown. As time pa.s.sed she became more and more annoyed. She was disappointed not so much at the absence of Ben Sansome as a person as at the waste of her efforts.
But at six o"clock, when she had given him up, and was about to change from her tea gown, he came in, full of apologies, very fl.u.s.tered, and bursting with news.
"King was shot on the street by Casey," he told her, trying not unsuccessfully for his habitual detached manner. "I stopped to get the news for you. King is not dead, but probably fatally wounded. Casey is in jail. There is a great public excitement--a mob is forming. I"ve been expecting something of the sort. King has been pretty free with his comments."
At seven o"clock Nan jumped to her feet in a sudden panic.
"Why, I wonder where Milton is!" she cried. "He"s never been so late as this before!"
"He"s probably stayed downtown to follow the course of the excitement.
Naturally he would. He may not get home to supper at all."
Wing Sam announced supper. He was unheeded. Even Gringo, his ears c.o.c.ked, watched the door, getting up uneasily, whining, sniffing inquiringly, and lying down again. At half-past seven Sansome firmly intervened.
"You"re going to make yourself ill," he insisted, "if you don"t eat something. I am hungry, anyway, and I"m not going to leave you until he comes back."
"Oh, you must be starved! How thoughtless I am!" she cried.