Part 47 (1/2)

”That's the ticket!” cried an enthusiast near Keith and Johnny. ”Here come the militia boys! Now we'll soon have the jail!”

The bayonets bobbed steadily through the crowd, deployed in front of the jail, and turned to face the mob. A great groan went up.

”Sold!” cried the enthusiast.

These were volunteers from the Law and Order party, hastily armed from the militia armouries, and thrown in front of the jail for its protection.

Immediately they had taken position the jail door opened, and there appeared a rather short, carefully dressed man, with side whiskers, carrying his hat in his hand. He stood for a moment, appealing for attention, one arm upraised. Little by little the noise died down.

”Who is that?” inquired Johnny.

He received no reply from Keith, but the enthusiast informed him:

”That's our beloved mayor--Van Ness,” said he.

When quiet had at length been restored, Van Ness addressed them:

”You are here creating an excitement,” he said, ”which may lead to occurrences this night which will require years to wipe out. You are now labouring under great excitement, and I advise you quietly to disperse. I a.s.sure you the prisoner is safe. Let the law have its course and justice will be done.”

Up to this point Van Ness had been listened to with respect, but at the last word he received such a chorus of jeers and cat calls that he retired hastily.

”How about Richardson?” they demanded of him. ”Where's the law in Cora's case?” ”To h.e.l.l with such justice!”

”Not the popular orator,” observed Johnny Fairfax.

More soldiers came, and then more, at short intervals, until the square was filled with s.h.i.+ning bayonets. Johnny was frankly disgusted. As a man of action he too well understood that this particular crisis was practically over. From this mob the jail was safe.

”They lost their chance talking,” he said. ”They ought to have rushed the jail first pop. Now the whole thing will fizzle out slowly. Let's go get supper.”

Without reply Keith descended from his perch. They hunted some time for a restaurant. All were closed for the sufficient reason that their staffs were on the streets. Finally they discovered a Chinese chop house prepared to serve them, and here they ate. Johnny was voluble in his scorn for the manner in which a golden opportunity had been allowed to slip by. Keith was very taciturn.

”Let's get out of here,” he said abruptly at last. ”Let's get some news.”

They learned that King was still alive, though badly wounded in the left breast; that he could not be moved; that he was attended by Dr.

Beverly Cole and a half score of the best surgeons of the city; that a ma.s.s meeting had been called at the Plaza. Indeed, there could be no doubt that the centre of excitement had been s.h.i.+fted to the Plaza. Men by thousands, all armed, were marching in that direction. Johnny and Keith found the square jammed, but the latter led the way by devious alleys to the rear of the Monumental headquarters, and so out to a little second-story balcony.

Below them the faces of the packed ma.s.s of humanity showed white in the dim light from the street lamps and the buildings. Arms gleamed. Every roof top, every window, every balcony was crowded. From the latter vehement orators held forth. All wanted to talk at once. Some of these people were, as our chronicler of the time quaintly expresses it, ”considerably tight.” Keith looked them all over with an appraising eye, listening at the same time to incendiary speeches advising the battering down of the jail and the hanging of all its inmates.

Occasionally one of the cooler headed would get in a few words, but invariably was interrupted by some well-meaning hot head.

There seemed to be a great diversity of opinion both among the people on the balcony and those below. Keith listened attentively for a time, then, with the abruptness that had characterized his movements and decisions since the moment he had heard the news of King's a.s.sa.s.sination, he turned away.

”Let's go,” he said briefly.

”Oh, hold on!” cried Johnny, aghast. ”It's just the shank of the evening! We'll miss all the fun.”

”There'll be nothing done,” said Keith with decision.

”I'm more in hopes,” persisted Johnny. ”I'll bet there are ten thousand men here, armed and angry, and getting angrier every minute. They could fairly eat up that lot at the jail.”