'd better have a constitution and all that, don't you think?" Pink
asked. "We can draw up a tentative one, and then fix it up at the first
meeting. This is going to be a big thing. It'll go like a fire."

But Willy Cameron overruled that.

"We don't need that sort of stuff," he said, "and if we begin that we
might as well put it in the newspapers. We want men who can keep their
mouths shut, and who will sign some sort of a card agreeing to stand
by the government and to preserve law and order. Then an office and a
filing case, and their addresses, so we can get at them in a hurry if we
need them. Get me a piece of paper, somebody."

Then and there, in twenty words, Willy Cameron wrote the now historic
oath of the new Vigilance Committee, on the back of an old envelope. It
was a promise, an agreement rather than an oath. There was a little
hush as the paper passed from hand to hand. Not a man there but felt a
certain solemnity in the occasion. To preserve the Union and the flag,
to fight all sedition, to love their country and support it; the very
simplicity of the words was impressive. And the mere putting of it into
visible form crystallized their hitherto vague anxieties, pointed to a
real enemy and a real danger. Yet, as Willy Cameron pointed out, they
might never be needed.

"Our job," he said, "is only as a last resort. Only for real trouble.
Until the state troops can get here, for instance, and if the
constabulary is greatly outnumbered. It's their work up to a certain
point. We'll fight if they need us. That's all."

It was very surprising to him to find the enterprise financed
immediately. Pink offered an office in the bank building. Some one
agreed to pay a clerk who should belong to the committee. It was
practical, businesslike, and--done. And, although he had protested, he
found himself made the head of the organization.

"--without title and without pay," he stipulated. "If you wish a title
on me, I'll resign."

He went home that night very exalted and very humble.

CHAPTER XXI

For a time Lily remained hidden in the house on Cardew Way, walking
out after nightfall with Louis occasionally, but shrinkingly keeping to
quiet back streets. She had a horror of meeting some one she knew,
of explanations and of gossip. But after a time the desire to see her
mother became overwhelming. She took to making little flying visits
home at an hour when her grandfather was certain to be away, going in a
taxi