epresented the secretarial seal on documents which spelled doom to
evildoers; hope, law and order to an outraged populace.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, McGowan, Scannell and his clan had not been idle. On the
night of the shooting one hundred men proceeded to the Pacific street
wharf where the Coliah and Seabird were anchored. From each of these, by
force of arms, but with a promise of return, they took a ship's cannon
which they dragged by means of two long ropes, uphill to the county
stronghold.

* * * * *

On Thursday morning Mayor Van Ness stalked into Turner, Lucas &
Company's bank and button-holed the manager. This was William T.
Sherman, late of the United States army.

"Sherman," said Van Ness excitedly, "is it true that you've been
appointed major-general in charge of the second division of the
California Militia?"

"It is," retorted Sherman. His calm demeanor as he answered, without
even looking up from the stock sheets which engrossed him, contrasted
sharply with the fuming unrest of Van Ness. The latter now seized
Sherman's sleeve.

"Lay those down and come with me," he urged. "We need you instantly.
Armed mobs are organizing to destroy the jail and seize the city
government. It's your duty, sir, your manifest duty--"

"All right, mayor," Sherman said, "I'll go along." He called a clerk
and gave some orders. Then he slipped the stock sheets into a drawer and
took his hat from a peg.

They strode along together, Van Ness gesturing and talking; Sherman's
head slightly bent as if in thought. Now and then he asked a
curt question.

The crowd about the jail had dwindled to a few curiosity seekers. The
center of public interest had shifted to Know Nothing Hall where
Vigilantes were still enrolling.

Sherman and Van Ness found Sheriff Scannell, Ned McGowan, Billy Mulligan
and the prisoner Casey in vehement consultation. They welcomed the
soldier and mayor with manifest relief.

"I'm glad you came," said Mulligan, "things look bad. There'll be Hell
poppin'--if that d---- fool dies."

"If you are referring to Mr. King, speak of him with respect." Sherman's
tone was like a whiplash. The soldier turned to Scannell. "How many men
have you? Men on whom you can depend in a crisis?"

Scannell hesitated. "A hundred maybe ... but," he looked at Sherman
hopefully, "there's your militia. Some of them served last night."

"They've refused further servic