intlock muskets from the
Mexican war--several thousand of them--but Coleman got them first."

"Yes," affirmed Benito. "The Sheriff's seized some scattered arms. But
that is not what Coleman fears. It's Federal interference. They're
trying to get General Wool to give them rifles from the arsenal at
Benicia, perhaps a gunboat from the navy yard."

"That means--civil warfare," Broderick said, aghast.

Alice Windham rose and the two men with her. She took an arm of each.
"Come," she pleaded, "let us put it all away--this turmoil of men's
hatred ... let us walk here in the sweet-scented evening and forget."

"I wish we might," said Broderick quickly. "What will happen in the next
few days may never be forgotten."

Swiftly, Alice turned to him; looked up into his face. "Do you think,"
she asked, so low that he could scarcely catch the words, "do you think,
Dave, that you're safe?"

Broderick caught his breath. Involuntarily his eyes strayed toward
Benito. But the latter was so patently absorbed in sunset splendors that
Broderick sighed as if relieved. It seemed as though some holy thing had
passed between him and this woman. In her look, her simple question lay
a shadowy, half-spoken answer to his heart's unuttered prayer. For a
moment the world seemed aglow with some strange, quiet glory. Then he
said, quite calmly: "I? Oh, yes, I'm safe enough."

* * * * *

Saturday passed without much change in King's condition. He was sinking
slowly, despite his rugged strength, his will to live and the unceasing
efforts of the city's best physicians.

The Law and Order Party was being organized out of various elements that
viewed alarmedly the Vigilantes' growing power. Religious, political,
social elements combined in this new faction. In it were men of note,
distinction, undisputed honor; and rascals of the worst degree.

Ned McGowan, it was rumored, had gone into hiding. Broderick kept to
himself and took no sides, yet. Many sought him for support and for
advice, but he repulsed them tactfully, remaining in his room to read;
walking silently about at twilight. He had a way of standing on a
hilltop, losing count of minutes, even hours. Thus Adrian surprised him
one evening gazing down on San Francisco's winking street lamps as the
night came down.

"Hello, Dave," he said, "why so pensive?"

Quietly as he spoke the other started. "I was wondering about
tomorrow...."

"Why tomorrow?"

Brod