The duties of the day were at last done, and I turned toward the Kendrick house with a lively sense of my obligation to relieve the anxieties that might still be felt in that household. The afternoon had been taken up with the fag ends of our business complications, and darkness had set in before I could leave the office. The streets were quiet, and, except for the Vigilante patrols, were almost deserted.
As I neared my destination a large man halted me with a raised pick-handle, and said:
"Vere go you, mine vrendt? Don'd you petter go home?"
I laughed and showed him my committee badge.
"That's where I'm going. And I hope you will have a quieter time than they gave us last night."
"Oxcuse me," said the Vigilante. "I mine orders obey, and mine block of hoodlums kept swept." And with a good night, I hastened on my way to the Kendrick place.
I found Laura and Mercy together.
"Well," said Laura graciously, "I'm glad to see that you have kept out of the fighting for one little while. I was supposing that you were down on the Barbary Coast getting your head smashed. Take that big easy-chair; it's the softest, and I'm sure you ought to appreciate it after all the knocks you've had."
"Oh, it looks as though there was no more fighting to be done. The hoodlums have taken to their holes, and the Vigilante pick-handles rule the city."
"Well, if it's all over it will be a great relief to my mind," she replied. "And I suppose you'll be glad to hear that uncle is better. He has come to his senses again, and I've set his mind at rest about the business, and Doctor Roberts says he will be out in a few weeks."