* * * * *

Benito, that afternoon, was closeted with Harpending and Ralston in the Bank of California.  The financier, who was backing the Montgomery street venture, regarded Harpending a trifle quizzically.  “Once,” he said, “you tried to be a pirate, Asbury....  Oh, no offense,” he laid a soothing hand upon the other’s knee.  “But tonight I need a desperate man such as you.  Another like Benito.  We’re going to raid the Mint.”

“What?” cried Windham, startled.

“You’ll need steadier nerves than that for our enterprise.”  Ralston passed his cigar case to the two men, saw them puffing equably ere he continued.  “You know how tight the money situation has become because President Grant declines to let us exchange our gold bars for coin.  With eight tons of gold in our vault we almost had a run this afternoon....  Now, that’s ridiculous.”  His fist smote the table.  “Grant doesn’t know the ropes....  But that’s no reason why Hell should break loose tomorrow morning.”

“What are you going to do?” Benito asked.

“Use my common sense—­and save the banks,” said Ralston shortly.  “You two must meet me here this evening.  Soon as it’s dark.  You’ll have a hard night’s work.  My friend Dore will be there also.  Can you suggest anyone else—­absolutely to be trusted, who will ask no questions?”

“My son,” Benito answered; “Robert likes work.  He wants to be a postal-carrier.”

“Bring him by all means,” said Ralston.  “If he helps us out tonight, I’ll see that he gets anything he wants in San Francisco.”

He was boyishly eager; full of excited plans for his daring scheme.  The two men left him chuckling as he bit the end off a fresh cigar.

* * * * *

It was nearly nine o’clock when they left the Bank of California.  Theater-going crowds were housed at the play; the streets were extraordinarily silent as the quintet made their way toward the Mint.  Robert was breathing hard.  The dark streets, the mysterious Empire ahead, the hint of danger and a mighty stake distilled a toxic and exhilarating fever in his blood.  As the pillared front of the federal treasure house loomed up before them, Ralston made a sign for them to halt, advancing cautiously.  With astonishment they saw him pass through the usually guarded door and disappear.  Presently he emerged with two sacks.

“Robert and Benito, take these to the bank,” he whispered.  “The watchmen there will give you the equivalent in gold bars to bring back.”  He turned to Harpending and Dore.  “I’ll have yours ready in a minute.”  Once more he vanished within.

Robert picked up the bag allotted to him.  It was very heavy.  As he lifted it to his shoulder, the contents clinked.

“Gold coin,” said his father, significantly.

“What if we’re caught?” asked the boy, half fearfully.  Ralston, reappearing, heard the question.