"There's going to be trouble, isn't there?" he asked. "What shall we do? We've less than a hundred men, Mr. Broderick. Perhaps we could get fifty more."
"Whatever happens, don't use firearms," Broderick cautioned. "One shot will set the town afire tonight." He came closer to the officer and whispered, "Make a show of interference, that's all.... If possible see that Sheriff Hayes' pistols don't go off.... You understand? I know what's best."
Elleard nodded. Broderick went on. Soon he heard the tramp of many feet. A procession headed by men bearing torches, was proceeding down the street toward the Plaza. As they neared he saw Jenkins, hands tied behind his back, striding along in the midst of his captors. A rope was about his neck; it extended for a hundred feet behind him, upheld by many hands.
Diagonally across the Plaza the procession streamed. At the flagstaff a halt was made. Samuel Brannan mounted a sand-heap and addressed the crowd.
"I have been deputed by the Vigilance Committee," he began, "to tell you that John Jenkins has been fairly tried; he was proven guilty of grand larceny and other crimes." He paused dramatically. "The sentence of the People's Court is death through hanging by the neck. It will be executed here at once, with your approval. All who are in favor of the committee's action, will say 'Aye.'"
"Aye! Aye!" came a thunder of voices, mingled with a few desultory "noes." Sheriff Jack Hayes rode up importantly on his prancing black charger. "In the name of the law I command this proceeding to cease."
"In the name of what law?" mocked Brannan, "the law you've been giving us for six months past?"
A roar of laughter greeted this retort. The sheriff, red-faced, held up a hand for silence. "I demand the prisoner," he shouted.
Instantly there was a quiet order. Fifty men in soldierly formation surrounded Jenkins. "Take him, then," a voice said pleasantly. It was William Coleman's. The guards of the forward ranks threw back their cloaks, revealing a score of business-like short-barrelled shotguns.
Before this show of force, the gallant Hayes retreated, baffled. He was a former Texan ranger, fearless to a fault; but he was wise enough to know when he was beaten.