On July 19 came news that rifles and ammunition were being shipped from Benicia; Wool was said at last to have capitulated.  But it turned out to be a small annual replenishment order of 130 muskets with a few rounds of powder and ball.  Later came the exciting rumors that John Durkee, Charles Rand and a crew of ten men had captured the sloop carrying these arms on the bay; had arrested Reuben Maloney, John Phillips and a man named McNab.  The arms were brought to Committee Headquarters in San Francisco.  On arrival there, perhaps through oversight, the prisoners were released.

* * * * *

The Vigilance Committee made two serious mistakes.  They fell into the Law and Order trap by committing an act of technical piracy.  From this Durkee saved them by taking upon himself the legal onus of the seizure.  The second error, though a minor one, proved much more serious.  They sent Sterling Hopkins, a vainglorious, witless, overzealous wight, to rearrest Maloney.  Coleman was not responsible for this; nor were the Vigilantes in a larger sense, for a few hotheads in temporary command issued the order.  Hopkins, glorying in the quest, for any errand of authority made him big with pride, set out alone to execute it.  He found Maloney in the office of Dr. Richard P. Ashe, United States naval agent.  Ashe was companioned by adherents of the Law and Order faction, among them Justice David S. Terry.

Pushing the doorkeeper rudely aside, Hopkins entered the room.  “Come with me, Reub Maloney,” he commanded, “you’re under arrest.”

Maloney shrank into a corner.  Ashe stepped in the constable’s path.  “Get out of here!” he thundered.  “As a Federal officer I order you to begone!”

“And I, as a judge and a Southern gentleman, will kick you out, suh.”  Judge Terry moved menacing forward.  His eyes flashed.  Several others joined him.  They took Hopkins by the shoulders and pushed him none too gently out of the room.  The door closed.  He stood for a moment in the hall, muttering in his outraged dignity.  Then he turned and ran toward Fort Vigilance.

“We’ve scared the dirty peddler,” Ashe said, as they watched his flying footsteps from a window.

“He’s gone for reinforcements,” said another.  “Let’s get out of here.  The Blues’ armory is better.”  There was some argument.  Finally, however, armed with pistols, they sought the street, forming a guard around Maloney.  But they had not proceeded far down Jackson street when Hopkins came upon them with nine men.  Both parties halted, Judge Terry standing in front of the prisoner; Hopkins, who was no coward for all his pompous tactlessness, advanced determinedly.  He reached around the Judge and clutched at Maloney’s arm.  “I arrest you in the name of the Committee.”

“To hell with your Committee!” shouted Terry.  He struck Hopkins’ arm away and poked a derringer in the policeman’s face.

Hopkins countered; the pistol went flying.  Terry staggered back, while Hopkins made another clutch at his intended prisoner.