thing. His whole
mind was set on finding Willy Cameron. Alone he had not a chance, but
two of them together could put up a fight. He pelted along, stumbling,
recovering, stumbling again.

Another shot was fired. They hadn't got him yet, or they wouldn't be
shooting. He raised his voice in a great call.

"Cameron! Here! Cameron!"

He ran into a low fence then, and it threw him. He had hardly got to
his knees before the other running figure had hurled itself on him, and
struck him with the butt of a revolver. He dropped flat and lay still.

* * * * *

For weeks Woslosky had known of the growing strength of the Vigilance
Committee, and that it was arming steadily.

It threatened absolutely the success of his plans. Even the election of
Akers and the changes he would make in the city police; even the ruse
of other strikes and machine-made riotings to call away the state
troops,--none of these, or all of them, would be effectual against an
organized body of citizens, duly called to the emergency.

And such an organization was already effected. Within a week, when the
first card reached his hands, it had grown to respectable proportions.
Woslosky went to Doyle, and they made their counter-moves quickly. No
more violence. A seemingly real but deceptive orderliness. They were
dealing with inflammatory material, however, and now and then it got
out of hand. Unlike Doyle the calculating, who made each move slowly and
watched its results with infinite zest, the Pole chafed under delay.

"We can't hold them much longer," he complained, bitterly. "This thing
of holding them off until after the election--and until Akers takes
office--it's got too many ifs in it."

"It was haste lost Seattle," said Doyle, as unmoved as Woslosky was
excited.

Woslosky did not like Louis Akers. What was more important, he
distrusted him. When he heard of his engagement to Lily Cardew he warned
Doyle about him.

"He's in this thing for what he can get out of it," he said. "He'll go
as far as he can, with safety, to be accepted by the Cardews."

"Exactly," was Doyle's dry comment, "with safety, you said. Well, he
knows you and he knows me, and he'll he straight because he's afraid not
to be."

"When there's a woman in it!" said the Pole, skeptically.

But Doyle only smiled. He had known many women and loved none of them,
and he was temperamentally unable to understand the type of man who saw