conds. Volney looked down with his usual sardonic smile but his eyes
were bitter with hate. Sherman alone displayed the placidity of
a soldier.

"Look at the damned rabble!" exclaimed Howard. "They're dividing. Some
are going up Pacific street to Kearney, some to Dupont and ... yes, a
part of them on Stockton."

"It's what you call an enfilading movement," said Sherman quietly.

* * * * *

In the county jail were Sheriff Scannell, Harrison his deputy, Marshal
North, Billy Mulligan the jailor, and a small guard. Some of these
watched proceedings from the roof, now and then descending to report to
Scannell. Cora, in his cell, played solitaire and Casey made pretense of
reading a book.

Presently Scannell entered the room where Casey sat; it was not a cell
nor had the door been locked since the withdrawal of the Vigilante
guard. Casey looked up quickly. "What's the latest news from King?"

"He's dying, so they say," retorted Scannell.

"Dave," it was almost a whisper. "You've been to Broderick? Curse him,
won't he turn his hand to help a friend?"

"Easy, Billy," said the Sheriff. "Broderick's never been your friend;
you know that well enough. Your boss, perhaps. But even so, he couldn't
help you. No one can.... This town's gone mad."

"What d'ye mean?" asked Casey in a frightened whisper.

"Billy," spoke the Sheriff, "have a drink." He poured a liberal potion
from a bottle standing on the table. Casey drained the glass, his eyes
never leaving Scannell's. "Now," resumed the Sheriff, "listen, boy, and
take it cool. THEY'RE COMING FOR YOU!"

At first Casey made no reply. One might have thought he had not heard,
save for the widening of his eyes.

"You--you'll not let them take me, Dave?" he said, after a silence.
"You'll fight?"

Scannell's hand fell on the other's shoulder. "I've only thirty men;
they're a hundred to one. They've a cannon."

They looked at one another. Casey closed his fists and straightened
slightly. "Give me a case-knife, Dave," he pleaded. "I'll not let them
take me. I'll--"

Silently, Scannell drew from his boot a knife in a leather sheath. Casey
grasped it, feverishly, concealing it beneath his vest. "How soon?" he
asked, "how soon?"

Scannell strode to the window. "They're outside now," he informed the
shrinking Casey. "The executive committee's in front ... the Citizens'
Guard is forming a hollow square around them.... Miers Truett's coming
to the do