"Let's go," he said briefly.
"Oh, hold on!" cried Johnny, aghast. "It's just the shank of the evening! We'll miss all the fun."
"There'll be nothing done," said Keith with decision.
"I'm more in hopes," persisted Johnny. "I'll bet there are ten thousand men here, armed and angry, and getting angrier every minute. They could fairly eat up that lot at the jail."
"They won't," said Keith.
"I'll bet one good man could turn them loose in a minute."
Suddenly Keith's dour taciturnity broke. "You're perfectly right," he conceded; "but the point is that good men won't lead a rabble. If we're to have good leaders we must have something for them to lead. If we're to cure these conditions, we must do things in due order. This cannot be remedied by mere excitement nor by deeds done under excitement. I have not yet seen anything that promises either satisfaction or reform."
"What do you propose doing, then?" asked Johnny, his intuitions again satisfying him that here was the man to tie to.
"Walk about," replied Keith.
They walked about. In the course of the evening they looked in on a dozen meetings of which they had news—in the Pioneer Club, in rooms over the old Bella Union, in a saloon off Montgomery Street, at the offices of various merchants. Keith looked carefully over the personnel of each of these various meetings, listened a minute or so, and went out. By some of the men so gathered Johnny was quite impressed, but Keith shook his head.