At 10 o’clock the Monumental fire bell struck several deep-toned notes and fifteen minutes later eighty members of the Vigilance Committee had assembled.  The door was locked.  A constable from the police department knocked upon it long without avail.  Everything was very still about the building; even the crowd which gathered there to await developments conversed in whispers.

At midnight several cloaked forms emerged, walking rapidly up the street.  Then the California fire engine bell began to toll.  James King of William, a local banker, leaving Vigilante quarters almost collided with Broderick.  “What does that mean?” the latter asked; he pointed to the tolling bell.

“It means,” King answered, solemnly, “that Jenkins is condemned to death.  He’ll be executed on the Plaza in an hour.”

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE HANGING OF JENKINS

Mayor Brenham pushed his way forward.  “Did I understand you rightly, Mr. King?” he questioned.  “This committee means to lynch a man—­to murder him?”

King turned upon him fiery-eyed.  “I might accuse you of a hundred murders, sir, with much more justice.  Where are your police when our citizens are slain?  What are your courts but strongholds of political iniquity?” He raised his arm and with a dramatic gesture, pointed toward the city hall.  “Go, Mayor Brenham, rouse your jackals of pretended law....  The people have risen.  At the Plaza in an hour you shall see what Justice means.”

Several voices cheered.  Brenham, overwhelmed, inarticulate before this outburst, turned and strode away.  Broderick walked on thoughtfully.  It was evident that the people were aroused past curbing.  As he neared the city hall, Constable Charles Elleard approached him anxiously.

“There’s going to be trouble, isn’t there?” he asked.  “What shall we do?  We’ve less than a hundred men, Mr. Broderick.  Perhaps we could get fifty more.”

“Whatever happens, don’t use firearms,” Broderick cautioned.  “One shot will set the town afire tonight.”  He came closer to the officer and whispered, “Make a show of interference, that’s all....  If possible see that Sheriff Hayes’ pistols don’t go off....  You understand?  I know what’s best.”

Elleard nodded.  Broderick went on.  Soon he heard the tramp of many feet.  A procession headed by men bearing torches, was proceeding down the street toward the Plaza.  As they neared he saw Jenkins, hands tied behind his back, striding along in the midst of his captors.  A rope was about his neck; it extended for a hundred feet behind him, upheld by many hands.

Diagonally across the Plaza the procession streamed.  At the flagstaff a halt was made.  Samuel Brannan mounted a sand-heap and addressed the crowd.

“I have been deputed by the Vigilance Committee,” he began, “to tell you that John Jenkins has been fairly tried; he was proven guilty of grand larceny and other crimes.”  He paused dramatically.  “The sentence of the People’s Court is death through hanging by the neck.  It will be executed here at once, with your approval.  All who are in favor of the committee’s action, will say ‘Aye.’”