ge room over
Haggerty's store at Moore's Flat the lamps had been lighted. Here ten
members of the Keystone Club had gathered to see if something might not
be done to avenge the death of Cummins. Henry Francis presided; but the
meeting was informal. These men had not met to pass resolutions, but to
decide upon some line of action. So far not a trace of the murderers had
been found, except for their discarded clothing. Sheriff Carter's
blood-hounds had followed a hot scent to Deer Creek, several miles above
Nevada City, and the posse who followed the dogs were led to a pool, in
the bottom of which, weighted with stones, was the clothing. Further
than this the dogs could not go. They were soon sneezing as the result
of inhaling red pepper, scattered on the rocks. And the robbers had
probably waded up or down stream to insure complete safety.

Several suspicious characters had passed over the railroad to Sacramento
and San Francisco; but this was an every-day occurrence, and the police
had learned the futility of arresting men who were probably innocent
miners pursuing the gay life.

Nothing thus far had been accomplished. Hence the meeting over
Haggerty's store. Dr. Mason and Mat Bailey were present. The doctor came
because of a sense of civic duty. His British sense of justice had been
outraged beyond endurance.

"You know, Mr. Francis," he said, "I have performed autopsies upon
eleven murdered men within the last ten years; and in no case has one of
the murderers been brought to justice. It is outrageous, scandalous.
Decent men cannot afford to live in a community where people are more
interested in making money than in enforcing the law. Decent men become
marked men--marked for slaughter as Cummins was. We must do something,
if only to protect ourselves."

"You are quite right, Doctor," replied Francis, "and we propose to
investigate for ourselves. Did you notice any suspicious circumstance
when you rode down from Eureka South the other day?"

The doctor could not think of anything important unless it was the
remarks of the gamblers at Moore's Flat about shipping gold dust out of
the country. But if they were accomplices they would hardly have spoken
so carelessly. And why did they leave the stage at North Bloomfield?
They were still there; but no one had observed anything remarkable in
their behavior.

That Cummins was leaving California, probably with gold, was a
well-known fact. That he would go armed, conside