ey are enemies and that Gibson is the only man who
can keep the town closed."

That night the crime wave stopped as suddenly as it began. There was not
a robbery, holdup or ordinary theft reported to the police. The same
order that prevailed when the "Gink" first decreed a "lay-off" prevailed
and Gibson issued a triumphant statement to the reporters for the first
editions in the morning.

"It demonstrates what little fear bandits and crooks have for the police
under Chief Sweeney," a part of the statement read. "It shows that the
administration is so inefficient and corrupt that law and order must be
enforced by citizens instead of by the officials whose duty it is to
keep the lid down in Los Angeles."

Another avalanche of resolutions praising Gibson followed the
publication of this statement. The mayor was hotly condemned for his
failure to remove Chief Sweeney at Gibson's request and the
commissioner was hailed as a man whose very name was enough to
intimidate criminals and whose presence in the city was enough to keep
outlawry and banditry at a minimum. One prominent citizen demanded that
the mayor resign and that Gibson be appointed in his place by
acclamation.

Brennan, John and P. Q. held another conference with the publisher. It
was decided that while the evidence before them--John's experience in
the Spring street raid and Murphy's information concerning "Gink"
Cummings' moves in opening and closing the city while Gibson was in and
out of it--was enough to convince them all that there was an alliance
between Cummings and the commissioner, they lacked sufficient ammunition
to "break" the story and expose the perfidious plot.

"Just a little more information, boys, something to show meetings
between Gibson and Cummings or communications between them and we'll be
ready to open fire," said the publisher.

A week later Gibson summoned Brennan and John to his office.

"How are you, boys?" he asked smiling. "I called you up here because I
have something to give you."

He handed them a slip of paper. It was a check--his personal check--for
$1,000. The space where the name of the recipient should appear was
blank.

"This means----" began Brennan.

"It means that I'm a candidate for mayor," said Gibson. "Remember, I
promised you I'd donate $1,000 to charity the minute I became a
candidate for any public office. What shall it be?"

"The Children's hospital," said Brennan.

Gibson seated himself at his desk