o, over the loose boards of the wharf, in
pursuit of the fleeing figure. The fugitive ran rapidly, despite a large
burden slung over his shoulder. Presently he disappeared from view. But
soon they glimpsed him in a boat, rowing lustily away.

A dozen boats set out in chase. Shots rang out. "He's thrown his bundle
in the water," someone cried. "He's diving," called another. A silence,
then "We've got him," came a hail exultingly.

Ere long a dripping figure surrounded by half a dozen captors, was
brought upon the wharf. "He stole a safe from Virgin & Co.," Broderick
was told. "The Vigilantes have him. They'll hang him probably. Come
along and see the show."

"But where are the police?" asked Broderick. The man laughed
contemptuously. "Where they always are--asleep," he answered, and
went on.

Others brought the news that John Jenkins, an Australian convict, was
the prisoner. He had several times escaped the clutches of the "law." He
seemed to treat the whole proceeding as a bit of horseplay, joking
profanely with his captors, boasting of his crimes.

At 10 o'clock the Monumental fire bell struck several deep-toned notes
and fifteen minutes later eighty members of the Vigilance Committee had
assembled. The door was locked. A constable from the police department
knocked upon it long without avail. Everything was very still about the
building; even the crowd which gathered there to await developments
conversed in whispers.

At midnight several cloaked forms emerged, walking rapidly up the
street. Then the California fire engine bell began to toll. James King
of William, a local banker, leaving Vigilante quarters almost collided
with Broderick. "What does that mean?" the latter asked; he pointed to
the tolling bell.

"It means," King answered, solemnly, "that Jenkins is condemned to
death. He'll be executed on the Plaza in an hour."

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE HANGING OF JENKINS

Mayor Brenham pushed his way forward. "Did I understand you rightly, Mr.
King?" he questioned. "This committee means to lynch a man--to
murder him?"

King turned upon him fiery-eyed. "I might accuse you of a hundred
murders, sir, with much more justice. Where are your police when our
citizens are slain? What are your courts but strongholds of political
iniquity?" He raised his arm and with a dramatic gesture, pointed toward
the city hall. "Go, Mayor Brenham, rouse your jackals of pretended
law.... The people have risen. At the Plaza in an