"As a matter of fact," observed Morrell, reseating himself, and speaking as though there had been no interruption, "I imagine you have little to fear from that."
He went into the street a little later, his vision somewhat blurred, but his mind clear. Sansome, by now very pot-valiant, swaggered alongside.
"By the way, Ben," said Morrell suddenly, "I hope you go armed—these are bad times."
"I have always carried a derringer—and I can use it, too!" boasted
Sansome, swinging his cane.
Morrell, left alone, stood on the corner for some time diligently engaged in getting control of himself. He laughed a little.
"Regular bally melodrama, conspiracy and all, right off the blood-and-thunder stage," said he. "Wonder if it works in real life? We'll see."
After his head had cleared, he set to work methodically to find Keith, but when he finally met that individual it was most casually. Morrell was apparently in a hurry, but as he saw Keith he appeared to hesitate, then, making up his mind, he approached the young lawyer.
"Look here, Keith, a word with you," he said. "I have stumbled on some information which may be important. I was on my way to the committee with it, but I'm in a hurry. The governor is shipping arms into the city to-morrow night from Benicia, by a small sloop."
"Are you sure of this?" asked Keith.
"Certain."