Quietly as he spoke the other started. "I was wondering about tomorrow...."
"Why tomorrow?"
Broderick looked around to satisfy himself that there was no one else to hear. "Coleman will withdraw his Vigilante guard from the jail on Sunday morning.... Oh, yes," he added, as the other seemed surprised, "I have my agents in the Committee's camp. Not to harm them. I don't hold with spies and treachery.... But I have to keep informed."
Adrian looked at his friend, astonished. This was news to him. Broderick went on: "The Governor's indirectly forced their hand. Coleman knows that violent forces are at work to overthrow his Vigilantes; that the Governor's aiding them. So he's decided to strike."
"Tomorrow, eh!" said Adrian thoughtfully. "That means bloodshed, probably."
Broderick turned a gloomy countenance toward him. "I don't know," he answered, and resumed his gazing. Adrian went on. He looked back after he had gone a hundred yards. The other man remained there, immobile and silent as a statue.
Governor J. Neely Johnson paced up and down the confines of his suite at the International Hotel. In a chair sprawled Mayor Van Ness, his fingers opening and shutting spasmodically upon the leather upholstery. Volney Howard leaned in a swaggering posture against the mantelpiece, smoking a big cigar and turning at intervals to expectorate out of one corner of his mouth.
"Well," said Howard, "the President's turned us down. We get no Federal aid, I understand. What next?"
Johnson stopped his pacing. "I fancy Coleman will have to answer that question. Our cue is to wait."
"'He also serves who stands and waits'," quoted Howard sardonically.