Part 18

He studied it carefully, and then nodded his head as though it met his approval. At last he said:

"Well, then, there's a way out. I was coming in this morning to put through that swamp-land deal. Why, you were at Kendrick's on Sunday when I told him that he was going to accept eight hundred thousand for that land, and he hemmed and hawed, and told me to come in this morning. Of course I could see in his eye that he was going to take me up, but he was playing coy. Now I'll make you the offer I would make him if he was here. I'll pay you five hundred thousand down, balance in thirty days, or when deed passes." He looked at me with a mixture of business shrewdness and bluff friendship.

"I'll take the responsibility of accepting that offer," I said promptly. And General Wilson drew his check and scribbled a few lines on a sheet of paper.

"Here, sign this receipt and memorandum of agreement, and give me that power of attorney; I'll have it recorded," he said. "Now take that check and get over to the bank as quick as the Lord'll let you. We'll make out the contract in due form this afternoon, and I'll get that on record, too." Then he chuckled jovially, and gave me another slap on the back as he added: "Stick to me, and I'll make a Napoleon of Finance out of you yet, Hampden."

Until I felt the sudden rebound of my spirits when I saw the check in my hand, I did not realize how horribly I had been scared. I was in a position to appreciate the feelings of a man who felt his house tumbling about his ears in a mighty earthquake, and had waked to find it only a nightmare. But I thanked General Wilson calmly, and rushed hurriedly over to the bank. I had small difficulty in impressing the president with the importance of haste; and the account was cleared and entered in my name before the opening hour.

As I returned to the office I met William T. Coleman coming away. His face was calm with resolute strength, and his eyes carried the magnetic inspiration of courage.

"I just looked in to tell you that I can't sit with your committee for an hour or two," he said. "I have some other irons in the fire; but I'll be in later. Partridge and Nelson are there now, and whatever they approve will be satisfactory to me. If you get at loggerheads, send for me, and I'll come."

His manner more than his words put me in heart with the assurance that I should not have to stand alone in battle, and I hastened with fresh confidence to take my place in the council.

"They're hammering things pretty hard on the exchanges," said Partridge after greetings had been made. "Prices are holding up well, so far, but I guess we'll have to put a brace under some of those fellows inside of half an hour." And with a clouded brow he studied the strip that came from the ticker.

"Carey and Son are shaky," said Nelson. "So are Benbow and Johnson, and a dozen others. And worst of all we've got to put some more coin into those confounded banks."

"It's like throwing the money away," groaned Partridge. "They can't put up collateral that a gambler would look at."

Nelson adjusted his gold-rimmed eye-glasses to look at his list of suspects, and gave his head a shake.

"Well, we've got to keep them afloat till these troubles are over," he said with decision.

"And the infernal part of it is," said Partridge, "that those fellows know it. I'd give a thousand dollars out of my own pocket, if we could let them drop without hurting any one else." And he resumed his study of the ticker with an irritated face.

The noise of the shouting crowds that filled and surrounded the exchanges floated up through the windows, rising and falling like the roar of ocean breakers. There was a curious variation of quality in the swelling volumes of sound. Now it expressed apprehension; now desperation; and again there was the tonic roar of exultation rising above the lesser cries.

We had not been in consultation ten minutes when the first application for support came from a pale but assertive man who tried to conceal his desperation under an air of bluster.

"Manning, of Smith and Manning," whispered Nelson to me, as the man entered the door.

He began to explain his business in roundabout phrase.

"Never mind that, Manning," said Partridge. "You're in the door, and you'll be squeezed if we don't help you. That's the long and short of it. How much are you in for, and what security can you offer? Let's see those papers. They tell the story, don't they?"

Manning wiped his forehead, with a sigh, and looked relieved rather than hurt at Partridge's abruptness.

"Five thousand will pull us through," he gasped.

"No it won't," said Partridge, running over the papers. "Here's another note for thirty-five hundred. Einstein and Company won't wait. This is a pretty poor showing. No wonder the bank wouldn't carry you any longer!"

"We can get along all right if we get out of this hole," pleaded Manning.

"Well, we'll take up these two claims on your note for thirty days," said Partridge after a telegraphic glance at Nelson and me. "Sign here."

I made out the checks, and Manning, once more putting on his blustering air as he would have put on an overcoat, went out to face his enemies.

From this time on, there was a steady stream of applicants, some frankly admitting their desperate condition, some trying to conceal their fears under an assumption of confidence. But whatever of pretense a man had covered himself with to enter our office was ruthlessly stripped from him as soon as he made his request for money. For one minute of the day, at least, he had to face the truth, and to see himself as he was. I soon discovered that Partridge's judgment of commercial paper was quick and sure. Nelson and I recognized our inferiority and promptly deferred to his opinions. Only once during the day did we overrule him, and in that instance we acted rather on an inspiration of mercy than on our commercial judgment.

"His paper is no good, and he wouldn't carry anybody else with him if he went to the wall," objected Partridge, when the man we had insisted on saving from ruin had gone out.

"The paper is bad," admitted Nelson, "but the man is all right. I like his looks."

"Yes," I added, "we have double the chance of getting the money back from him that we have of getting it from that fat, oily-tongued fellow who stood us up for twenty thousand a few minutes ago."

I was pleased to remind Partridge of the incident a few months later when our protege redeemed his obligation in full at the same time that the oily-tongued heavy-weight compromised for thirty cents on the dollar.

But despite this temporary disagreement I was none the less ready to follow Partridge's judgment on the cases that came before us. And after the cross-questioning of the applicant was over, Nelson and I rarely refused a nod of assent to his inquiring glance. His comments ran something like this, as the stream of the financially lame, halt and blind passed before us:

"That's all tommyrot--you don't need the half of that. Seven thousand will pull you through. Here! what do you mean by coming to us? Any bank in the city would take that collateral. No. Not a dollar unless you will make over your stock to Nelson as trustee. Here! you'll have to get your brother to sign that note. Take it now. He'll do it, when you tell him that we won't touch it without. That collateral is no good; I know you've got better. Don't waste our time, unless you're willing to show it. See here! you'll need more than that. What do you mean by telling us that you owe only ten thousand when your balance-sheet here calls for eighteen? Come now, do you think we are running a charity soup-house? You've got unencumbered real estate; raise your money on that."

We had been at this work close upon two hours when William T. Coleman returned. He brought a list of merchants who would need assistance, and the amounts that we might safely advance them.

"There's a very scary feeling outside," he said. "There are all sorts of rumors about plots to burn the city, and some men are foolish enough to say that San Francisco is going to be worse than Pittsburgh."

"That's not impossible," said Nelson.

"I know there has been plenty of talk in the anti-coolie clubs about burning the Pacific Mail steamers," I said. "But I don't think they will have the courage for it."

"It's only a question of leadership," said Coleman, "and that may develop at any minute. A mob is a queer creature. You can't tell what it will do. It is a coward by itself, but it is often capable of great courage when it has a leader--sometimes when it thinks it has a leader."

"What we need is troops," said Nelson. "I hope, Coleman, that you will use your influence with Bryant and Governor Irwin to get the militia called out. They ought to ask for Federal troops. There'll be no nonsense where they are stationed. They shoot to kill."

"You might bring your plans before the citizens' meeting this afternoon," said Coleman shortly.

Partridge had been studying the ticker intently, and now growled:

"There's somebody raising the devil out there in the stock-market. He's got the El Dorado Bank behind him by the looks of things, and he's whacking at prices with a sledge-hammer."

The name of this modern practitioner in the black art was on the tip of my tongue, but I kept it from escaping. If Wharton Kendrick had not revealed it in the course of the previous raid, it was evidently my cue to keep still.

The contest grew hotter as the day advanced. The waiting-room was filled with anxious men, and we watched with concern the growing total of advances we had been compelled to make. The Sundown Bank had to be rescued twice from imminent failure, and two other banks called upon us for loans. We had groaned at the character of the collateral offered by the Sundowners, but there was no help for it. We had to advance enough to keep their doors from closing, or the wreck would have begun; and once under way at this troublous juncture we saw no limit to the ruin ahead. But at last it was over. Three o'clock came, the banks closed, and rumor and fear could only threaten of trouble to come.

"Well, there's a hard day gone," said Partridge with a sigh of relief.

"And another one just beginning," said Coleman placidly.

"How do we stand now?" asked Nelson.

"We paid out three million seven hundred and ninety-eight thousand," I returned, glancing at the figures.

"That leaves us--?"

"Three million five hundred and twenty-two thousand."

"That is too small a margin for safety," said Coleman with decision. "This thing isn't over yet. I thought we would have enough to carry us through, but I see we must have more. You'll have to get out, Partridge, and you, too, Nelson, and see what can be done in the way of raising more money."

"I suppose it has got to be done," said Partridge. "We can't afford to go broke now." And Nelson nodded assent.

Coleman then turned to me: "It's time we were going over to the citizens' meeting," he said. "I've promised to preside. We are to meet in the Chamber of Commerce rooms, over here." And taking me by the arm, he led me out of the office.

During the stress of the day's business, we had come into close relations, and I had been more than ever impressed with the vigorous sense of this man. He displayed on that small field all the qualities of leadership demanded in the management of a nation. His resource and calm strength of mind inspired me with an unwonted warmth of admiration, and I could even then think only with regret of the ruler and statesman who had been smothered into the habit of a painstaking merchant. The generous emotions of hero-worship thrilled within me, and I was delighted to find that my admiration was repaid with a show of liking and confidence.

"There is one thing I am apprehensive about," he said, as we climbed the stairs to the Chamber of Commerce. "This meeting is a necessary thing, but it seems to have roused anxiety rather than allayed it. I hope that the speeches will be of a character to inspire confidence in our ability to handle the situation. If we don't inspire that confidence, we shall do more mischief than good."

As we entered the hall, we saw that it was already well filled with the solid men of the city. Mayor Bryant was there with the chief of police. General McComb nodded to me, and hastened to speak to Coleman. Members of the state and city governments, bankers, merchants, and a sprinkling of other classes of society were to be seen in the groups about the room.

There was more of cheerful calmness about the meeting than I had expected to find. The fact that these men were present was proof that they felt the emergency to be grave; but their talk was flavored with the saving salt of American humor that no calamity can suppress, and inspired by the optimistic American sentiment that "it will all come out right somehow."

I had scarce found a seat when General McComb with his most impressive military air called the meeting to order. When the company had been reduced to silence, he continued:

"I have taken the liberty of sending out the circulars that requested you to meet here for the purpose of considering the safety of the city. The people see in Monday night's outbreak the dangers that come when the passions of the mob are given full sway. An honored citizen has been struck down, property has been destroyed, and threats of worse things to come are heard on every side. In this emergency we should organize to give the city the protection essential to its preservation. We have with us a man who has twice come forward to lead the loyal citizens in the task of putting down the lawless and criminal elements of the city. I ask that William T. Coleman be chosen as chairman of this meeting."

The response left no doubt that Mr. Coleman was the assembly's unanimous choice. The men who had gathered there looked toward him with as unquestioning confidence as ever soldiers looked to their captain. And at the shout that answered General McComb, he walked to the chair with the assured step of a man accustomed to command.

"I thank you for your confidence," he said. "I have not thought, I do not think, that there is any pressing danger. But I recognize the moral value of organization in times of disquiet, and I am here to assist in putting the physical force of the city at the disposition of the authorities. I have not seen any need for augmenting the military or police forces of the city. But General McComb and Mayor Bryant, who have had better opportunities than I to observe the situation, have thought differently. Therefore let us take precautions. The people of this city have proved through many trials that they are essentially law-abiding. But there is a dangerous element here--an element of lawless young men who do not think of results, and who do not shrink from violence. If I had not realized this fact before, I should have been forced to acknowledge it when one of my closest friends fell a victim last night to their anger. But I have full confidence in the manhood of San Francisco. If the city is threatened by a rising of the disorderly elements I am ready to assure the authorities that a force of twenty thousand men can be raised, if need be, for the defense of our homes and property."

A silence followed the applause evoked by this speech. If the speaker expressed more confidence than he felt, his words accomplished their purpose of rousing the courage of the assembly before him. Then a mild-faced man rose, and in halting voice asked the privilege of putting a question.

"Mr. Chairman," he began, "why are not the constituted authorities sufficient to cope with this outbreak? We have police. We have a militia. They are the lawful arm of government to chastise the evil-doer. Why are they not competent to handle the hoodlum mobs?"

General McComb was touched to the quick by the question thus put, and rose with an air of military dignity.

"I can answer for the militia," he said with some asperity. "There is no more loyal and competent body anywhere than the one I have the honor to command. But the troops must be supported by the assurance that they have the moral and physical backing of law-abiding citizens. That is why I have asked you to meet us here. I have no doubt you would like to hear from our worthy mayor on the needs of the city in this emergency."

Mayor Bryant got to his feet at this indirect appeal, and a much troubled mayor he appeared. I doubted not from his expression that he would have welcomed some plan by which his office might be administered on the model of those German newspapers whose editors delegate to some hireling the responsibilities that lead to _lese-majeste_ and the jail, and pursue their way undisturbed by thoughts of consequences.

"I approve the proposed organization of citizens to cooeperate with the municipal authorities," he began in halting and anxious tones. "It will help us to keep the peace. But there wasn't so much violence last night as some have thought. The body of the meeting was orderly. The trouble came only from the hoodlums who broke off from it in droves to commit violence. The responsible men of the labor organizations who were present have called on me to say that they had no idea that the hoodlums would take advantage of the meeting to create disorder."

Several military men followed the mayor with speeches of a fiery nature, and advocated stern measures to subdue the riotous elements. At these outbursts of martial ardor I could see Coleman's mouth tighten imperceptibly into lines of disapproval and determination. At last his growing impatience could be restrained no longer, and he interrupted a resplendent militia colonel who was in full flight of an oration calling for "action at once."

"I understand this subject," said Coleman with decision, "and you don't. This is a matter that should not be discussed too fully or too publicly. But since so much has been said, I will inform you, gentlemen, that you don't know the mine you are standing on. The safety or destruction of the city hangs on a pivot. There must be more spirit shown by the law-abiding elements, or the balance will turn toward destruction. There must be action, not talk. I do not want to accuse anybody of lethargy, but the fact is there are too many men who call for the suppression of disorder, and then go home and leave somebody else to attend to their protection. The men who most deserve protection are those who are ready to take arms in their hands to get it."

"Well, what course would you advise this meeting to take?" asked General McComb.

"Organize at once," said the chairman in vigorous tones. "Appoint a central committee--say of twenty-four. Then open rolls for men to sign, pledging their persons and their money to protect the wives, children and fortunes that are now at the mercy of the mob."

This inspiring counsel brought the assembly to its feet. In a tumult of enthusiasm it was agreed that the chairman should appoint the committee, and that the work of organization should begin at once. It was over in another ten minutes. Coleman named the committee without hesitation, and after it had held a brief session he announced that it had reported in favor of immediate organization, and added:

"You are invited to put your hands to this instrument:

"'We, the undersigned citizens of San Francisco, do hereby enroll ourselves as a General Committee of Safety, subject to the requirements of the Special Committee of Twenty-Four, of which William T. Coleman, Esq., is President, and we do hereby bind ourselves to act with the committee to preserve the peace and well-being of the city with our money and persons.'

"You will be given directions where to assemble, and what duties you are to perform. I hope no able-bodied citizen will fail to give us his services and support."

At a significant gesture from the president, these solid men of the city crowded about the secretary to sign their names, and the Committee of Safety was born.

*CHAPTER XXIV*

*THE JUSTICE OF BIG SAM*

"You seem to have done a good day's work," was Miss Kendrick's comment on my brief account of the commercial struggle, "and you'll make a business man yet if you keep on. I wish you could tell uncle about it, but he's still unconscious." And her lip trembled at the sudden remembrance of Wharton Kendrick's peril, until I thought for the moment that she was going to burst into tears. But she commanded herself, and continued in steady voice: "And now that you've done so well, I'll give one of those reward-of-merit cards you used to get in school. It came this afternoon, and I'm dying to know what's in it." And she brought out a letter addressed in fine Spencerian copperplate script to "Mr. Hampden, the Lawyer of Mr. Kendrick's House on Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco."

I read the address with some wonder, and Laura Kendrick continued:

"Moon Ying says that funny little sign up in the corner is Big Sam's seal; but he surely never wrote that remarkable address. I suppose it is by one of his clerks."

At this, I hastily opened the envelope, and found within a formal note:

Kwan Sam Suey requests the pleasure of Mr. Hampden's company, at his office in Waverly Place, this evening, at as early an hour as convenient.

I passed the note over to Miss Kendrick.

"It looks as though there was going to be a party," she said, "or a supper at the very least. I hope you won't overeat--or worse."

"Big Sam has never suggested such an idea as eating or drinking, though I don't put it beyond him. But he surely hasn't picked out this season of alarms to give a reception. So if you'll excuse me, I'll run down to his place. It may be something important."

"Of course you must go--and you must come back, too. I'm sure I can't sleep till I know what it's about. I shall be up most of the night, and so will Mercy; so you needn't have qualms about ringing the bell, even if you are later than late. There will be somebody to let you in."

"As I'd rather be here than anywhere else, I shan't miss the chance to come back," I said boldly.

She ignored my words, and evaded my devouring glances, and with a sage nod suggested that the sooner I was on my way, the sooner I should have a chance to come back.

As I went down the steps I was stricken with a jealous pang to see Mr. Baldwin coming up with the air of a conquering army. He gave me a cool "Good evening," and then asked, in his most superior manner, if I were on my way to stir my friends to further exertions.

"I have but one object in life," I returned in a confidential tone, "and that is to put your particular friend and client inside four stone walls where he can't do any more harm. And you can tell Mr. Bolton so with my compliments, too."

From his muttered response, I gathered that my reminder of his connection with Peter Bolton did not give him unalloyed pleasure, and pleased with the consciousness that I had given more than I had received in the way of irritation, I went my way to Chinatown.

There were abundant signs of unrest in both the white and the yellow city. Bands of hoodlums still ranged the streets, and fought runaway actions with the police. Householders seemed in fear, and windows that were customarily cheerful with lights now looked with darkened shades upon the streets.