y.

Meanwhile, in the Opera House, a great commotion had occurred. Magnus
Derrick had appeared.

Only a sense of enormous responsibility, of gravest duty could have
prevailed upon Magnus to have left his house and the dead body of his
son that day. But he was the President of the League, and never since
its organisation had a meeting of such importance as this one been held.
He had been in command at the irrigating ditch the day before. It was
he who had gathered the handful of Leaguers together. It was he who must
bear the responsibility of the fight.

When he had entered the Opera House, making his way down the central
aisle towards the stage, a loud disturbance had broken out, partly
applause, partly a meaningless uproar. Many had pressed forward to shake
his hand, but others were not found wanting who, formerly his staunch
supporters, now scenting opposition in the air, held back, hesitating,
afraid to compromise themselves by adhering to the fortunes of a man
whose actions might be discredited by the very organisation of which he
was the head.

Declining to take the chair of presiding officer which Garnett offered
him, the Governor withdrew to an angle of the stage, where he was joined
by Keast.

This one, still unalterably devoted to Magnus, acquainted him briefly
with the tenor of the speeches that had been made.

"I am ashamed of them, Governor," he protested indignantly, "to lose
their nerve now! To fail you now! it makes my blood boil. If you had
succeeded yesterday, if all had gone well, do you think we would have
heard of any talk of 'assumption of authority,' or 'acting without
advice and consent'? As if there was any time to call a meeting of the
Executive Committee. If you hadn't acted as you did, the whole county
would have been grabbed by the Railroad. Get up, Governor, and bring 'em
all up standing. Just tear 'em all to pieces, show 'em that you are the
head, the boss. That's what they need. That killing yesterday has shaken
the nerve clean out of them."

For the instant the Governor was taken all aback. What, his lieutenants
were failing him? What, he was to be questioned, interpolated upon
yesterday's "irrepressible conflict"? Had disaffection appeared in
the ranks of the League--at this, of all moments? He put from him his
terrible grief. The cause was in danger. At the instant he was the
President of the League only, the chief, the master. A royal anger
surged within him, a wide, towering