s
carried and plunged it, with a vicious thrust, into Hopkins' neck.

CHAPTER L

THE COMMITTEE DISBANDS

Alice Windham and her little son, named Robert for his grandfather, were
passing Coleman's store, en route to Benito's office; it was a pleasant,
quiet afternoon, almost windless. The infant Robert toddled manfully
along on his five-year legs, holding tightly to his mother's hand.

Men began to rush by, jostling them in their haste. The child drew
closer to his mother. More men passed. Some of them were carrying guns.
Coleman, emerging hurriedly, stopped at sight of Mrs. Windham.

"Better go inside," he advised, "there's trouble afoot." He picked up
the now frightened child and escorted the mother to his office. "Sit
down," he invited. "It's comfortable here ... and safe."

Before she could thank him he was off. At the door Miers Truett hailed
him. "Hopkins stabbed," she heard him pant. He had been running. "May
die ... Terry did it."

They went off together. Other men stood in the doorway. "By the
Eternal!" one was saying. "A Judge of the Supreme Court! What will
Coleman do? They can't arrest Terry."

There was a silence. Then the Monumental Fire Engine bell began to toll.
"Come on," the second man spoke with a kind of thrill. "That's
Coleman's answer."

* * * * *

Terry, Ashe and their companions ran pell mell up Jackson street until
they reached the armory of the San Francisco Blues. It was rather an
ornate building, guarded by iron doors. These stood open as the
fugitives entered, but were immediately closed and guarded by a posse
of pursuing Vigilantes, effectually preventing Law and Order
reinforcements from the outside.

Meanwhile the wounded Hopkins, screaming that he was murdered, had been
carried into the Pennsylvania Engine House close by. Dr. Beverly Cole,
the Vigilante surgeon chief, was summoned and pronounced the wound a
serious one. Thereupon the bell was tolled.

Half an hour later several thousand men under Marshal Doane marched to
the armory. In front of it he drew up his forces and knocked on the
inner portal.

"What d'ye want?" came the heavy bass of David Terry, a little less
arrogant than usual.

"The committee has ordered the arrest of yourself and your party,"
answered Doane. "Will you come quietly?"

There was excited murmuring; then Terry's heavy tones once more: "Do you
mean that you will attack the person of a Supreme Court Justice?"