d in the darkness. "D'you
remember Dallas, the superintendent?"

I nodded at recollection of the vulpine-face superintendent of the
Sierra Mills.

"Well, I got him first," Donnelly said with pride. "'Twas after that I
joined the Reds."

"But how comes it that you are here?" I queried. "Your wife and
children?"

"Dead," he answered. "That's why. No," he went on hastily, "'tis not
revenge for them. They died easily in their beds--sickness, you see,
one time and another. They tied my arms while they lived. And now that
they're gone, 'tis revenge for my blasted manhood I'm after. I was
once Peter Donnelly, the scab foreman. But to-night I'm Number 27 of the
'Frisco Reds. Come on now, and I'll get you out of this."

More I heard of him afterward. In his own way he had told the truth
when he said all were dead. But one lived, Timothy, and him his father
considered dead because he had taken service with the Iron Heel in the
Mercenaries.* A member of the 'Frisco Reds pledged himself to twelve
annual executions. The penalty for failure was death. A member who
failed to complete his number committed suicide. These executions were
not haphazard. This group of madmen met frequently and passed wholesale
judgments upon offending members and servitors of the Oligarchy. The
executions were afterward apportioned by lot.

* In addition to the labor castes, there arose another
caste, the military. A standing army of professional
soldiers was created, officered by members of the Oligarchy
and known as the Mercenaries. This institution took the
place of the militia, which had proved impracticable under
the new regime. Outside the regular secret service of the
Iron Heel, there was further established a secret service of
the Mercenaries, this latter forming a connecting link
between the police and the military.

In fact, the business that brought me there the night of my visit was
such a trial. One of our own comrades, who for years had successfully
maintained himself in a clerical position in the local bureau of the
secret service of the Iron Heel, had fallen under the ban of the 'Frisco
Reds and was being tried. Of course he was not present, and of course
his judges did not know that he was one of our men. My mission had been
to testify to his identity and loyalty. It may be wondered how we came
to know of the affair at all. The explanation is simple. One of our
secret agents was a me