There was a silence. Then the Monumental Fire Engine bell began to toll. "Come on," the second man spoke with a kind of thrill. "That's Coleman's answer."
Terry, Ashe and their companions ran pell mell up Jackson street until they reached the armory of the San Francisco Blues. It was rather an ornate building, guarded by iron doors. These stood open as the fugitives entered, but were immediately closed and guarded by a posse of pursuing Vigilantes, effectually preventing Law and Order reinforcements from the outside.
Meanwhile the wounded Hopkins, screaming that he was murdered, had been carried into the Pennsylvania Engine House close by. Dr. Beverly Cole, the Vigilante surgeon chief, was summoned and pronounced the wound a serious one. Thereupon the bell was tolled.
Half an hour later several thousand men under Marshal Doane marched to the armory. In front of it he drew up his forces and knocked on the inner portal.
"What d'ye want?" came the heavy bass of David Terry, a little less arrogant than usual.
"The committee has ordered the arrest of yourself and your party," answered Doane. "Will you come quietly?"
There was excited murmuring; then Terry's heavy tones once more: "Do you mean that you will attack the person of a Supreme Court Justice?" he asked half incredulous.
"We will arrest all those who commit or attempt murder."
More whispering.