He studied it carefully, and then nodded his head as though it met his
approval. At last he said:
"Well, then, there's a way out. I was coming in this morning to put
through that swamp-land deal. Why, you were at Kendrick's on Sunday when
I told him that he was going to accept eight hundred thousand for that
land, and he hemmed and hawed, and told me to come in this morning. Of
course I could see in his eye that he was going to take me up, but he
was playing coy. Now I'll make you the offer I would make him if he was
here. I'll pay you five hundred thousand down, balance in thirty days,
or when deed passes." He looked at me with a mixture of business
shrewdness and bluff friendship.
"I'll take the responsibility of accepting that offer," I said promptly.
And General Wilson drew his check and scribbled a few lines on a sheet
of paper.
"Here, sign this receipt and memorandum of agreement, and give me that
power of attorney; I'll have it recorded," he said. "Now take that
check and get over to the bank as quick as the Lord'll let you. We'll
make out the contract in due form this afternoon, and I'll get that on
record, too." Then he chuckled jovially, and gave me another slap on
the back as he added: "Stick to me, and I'll make a Napoleon of Finance
out of you yet, Hampden."
Until I felt the sudden rebound of my spirits when I saw the check in my
hand, I did not realize how horribly I had been scared. I was in a
position to appreciate the feelings of a man who felt his house tumbling
about his ears in a mighty earthquake, and had waked to find it only a
nightmare. But I thanked General Wilson calmly, and rushed hurriedly
over to the bank. I had small difficulty in impressing the president
with the importance of haste; and the account was cleared and entered in
my name before the opening hour.
As I returned to the office I met William T. Coleman coming away. His
face was calm with resolute strength, and his eyes carried the magnetic
inspiration of courage.
"I just looked in to tell you that I can't sit with your committee for
an hour or two," he said. "I have some other irons in the fire; but
I'll be in later. Partridge and Nelson are there now, and whatever they
approve will be satisfactory to me. If you get at loggerheads, send for
me, and I'll come."
His manner more than his words put me in heart with the assurance that I
should not have to stand alone in battle, and I hastened with fresh
confidence to take my place in the council.
"They're hammering things pretty hard on the exchanges," said Partridge
after greetings had been made. "Prices are holding up well, so far, but
I guess we'll have to put a brace under some of those fellows inside of
half an hour." And with a clouded brow he studied the strip that came
from the ticker.
"Carey and Son are shaky," said Nelson. "So are Benbow and Johnson, and
a dozen others. And worst of all we've got to put some more coin into
those confounded banks."
"It's like throwing the money away," groaned Partridge. "They can't put
up collateral that a gambler would look at."
Nelson adjusted his gold-rimmed eye-glasses to look at his list of
suspects, and gave his head a shake.
"Well, we've got to keep them afloat till these troubles are over," he
said with decision.
"And the infernal part of it is," said Partridge, "that those fellows
know it. I'd give a thousand dollars out of my own pocket, if we could
let them drop without hurting any one else." And he resumed his study
of the ticker with an irritated face.
The noise of the shouting crowds that filled and surrounded the
exchanges floated up through the windows, rising and falling like the
roar of ocean breakers. There was a curious variation of quality in the
swelling volumes of sound. Now it expressed apprehension; now
desperation; and again there was the tonic roar of exultation rising
above the lesser cries.
We had not been in consultation ten minutes when the first application
for support came from a pale but assertive man who tried to conceal his
desperation under an air of bluster.
"Manning, of Smith and Manning," whispered Nelson to me, as the man
entered the door.
He began to explain his business in roundabout phrase.
"Never mind that, Manning," said Partridge. "You're in the door, and
you'll be squeezed if we don't help you. That's the long and short of
it. How much are you in for, and what security can you offer? Let's
see those papers. They tell the story, don't they?"
Manning wiped his forehead, with a sigh, and looked relieved rather than
hurt at Partridge's abruptness.
"Five thousand will pull us through," he gasped.
"No it won't," said Partridge, running over the papers. "Here's another
note for thirty-five hundred. Einstein and Company won't wait. This is
a pretty poor showing. No wonder the bank wouldn't carry you any
longer!"
"We can get along all right if we get out of this hole," pleaded
Manning.
"Well, we'll take up these two claims on your note for thirty days,"
said Partridge after a telegraphic glance at Nelson and me. "Sign
here."
I made out the checks, and Manning, once more putting on his blustering
air as he would have put on an overcoat, went out to face his enemies.
From this time on, there was a steady stream of applicants, some frankly
admitting their desperate condition, some trying to conceal their fears
under an assumption of confidence. But whatever of pretense a man had
covered himself with to enter our office was ruthlessly stripped from
him as soon as he made his request for money. For one minute of the
day, at least, he had to face the truth, and to see himself as he was.
I soon discovered that Partridge's judgment of commercial paper was
quick and sure. Nelson and I recognized our inferiority and promptly
deferred to his opinions. Only once during the day did we overrule him,
and in that instance we acted rather on an inspiration of mercy than on
our commercial judgment.
"His paper is no good, and he wouldn't carry anybody else with him if he
went to the wall," objected Partridge, when the man we had insisted on
saving from ruin had gone out.
"The paper is bad," admitted Nelson, "but the man is all right. I like
his looks."
"Yes," I added, "we have double the chance of getting the money back
from him that we have of getting it from that fat, oily-tongued fellow
who stood us up for twenty thousand a few minutes ago."
I was pleased to remind Partridge of the incident a few months later
when our protege redeemed his obligation in full at the same time that
the oily-tongued heavy-weight compromised for thirty cents on the
dollar.
But despite this temporary disagreement I was none the less ready to
follow Partridge's judgment on the cases that came before us. And after
the cross-questioning of the applicant was over, Nelson and I rarely
refused a nod of assent to his inquiring glance. His comments ran
something like this, as the stream of the financially lame, halt and
blind passed before us:
"That's all tommyrot--you don't need the half of that. Seven thousand
will pull you through. Here! what do you mean by coming to us? Any bank
in the city would take that collateral. No. Not a dollar unless you
will make over your stock to Nelson as trustee. Here! you'll have to
get your brother to sign that note. Take it now. He'll do it, when you
tell him that we won't touch it without. That collateral is no good; I
know you've got better. Don't waste our time, unless you're willing to
show it. See here! you'll need more than that. What do you mean by
telling us that you owe only ten thousand when your balance-sheet here
calls for eighteen? Come now, do you think we are running a charity
soup-house? You've got unencumbered real estate; raise your money on
that."
We had been at this work close upon two hours when William T. Coleman
returned. He brought a list of merchants who would need assistance, and
the amounts that we might safely advance them.
"There's a very scary feeling outside," he said. "There are all sorts of
rumors about plots to burn the city, and some men are foolish enough to
say that San Francisco is going to be worse than Pittsburgh."
"That's not impossible," said Nelson.
"I know there has been plenty of talk in the anti-coolie clubs about
burning the Pacific Mail steamers," I said. "But I don't think they
will have the courage for it."
"It's only a question of leadership," said Coleman, "and that may
develop at any minute. A mob is a queer creature. You can't tell what
it will do. It is a coward by itself, but it is often capable of great
courage when it has a leader--sometimes when it thinks it has a leader."
"What we need is troops," said Nelson. "I hope, Coleman, that you will
use your influence with Bryant and Governor Irwin to get the militia
called out. They ought to ask for Federal troops. There'll be no
nonsense where they are stationed. They shoot to kill."
"You might bring your plans before the citizens' meeting this
afternoon," said Coleman shortly.
Partridge had been studying the ticker intently, and now growled:
"There's somebody raising the devil out there in the stock-market. He's
got the El Dorado Bank behind him by the looks of things, and he's
whacking at prices with a sledge-hammer."
The name of this modern practitioner in the black art was on the tip of
my tongue, but I kept it from escaping. If Wharton Kendrick had not
revealed it in the course of the previous raid, it was evidently my cue
to keep still.
The contest grew hotter as the day advanced. The waiting-room was
filled with anxious men, and we watched with concern the growing total
of advances we had been compelled to make. The Sundown Bank had to be
rescued twice from imminent failure, and two other banks called upon us
for loans. We had groaned at the character of the collateral offered by
the Sundowners, but there was no help for it. We had to advance enough
to keep their doors from closing, or the wreck would have begun; and
once under way at this troublous juncture we saw no limit to the ruin
ahead. But at last it was over. Three o'clock came, the banks closed,
and rumor and fear could only threaten of trouble to come.
"Well, there's a hard day gone," said Partridge with a sigh of relief.
"And another one just beginning," said Coleman placidly.
"How do we stand now?" asked Nelson.
"We paid out three million seven hundred and ninety-eight thousand," I
returned, glancing at the figures.
"That leaves us--?"
"Three million five hundred and twenty-two thousand."
"That is too small a margin for safety," said Coleman with decision.
"This thing isn't over yet. I thought we would have enough to carry us
through, but I see we must have more. You'll have to get out,
Partridge, and you, too, Nelson, and see what can be done in the way of
raising more money."
"I suppose it has got to be done," said Partridge. "We can't afford to
go broke now." And Nelson nodded assent.
Coleman then turned to me: "It's time we were going over to the
citizens' meeting," he said. "I've promised to preside. We are to meet
in the Chamber of Commerce rooms, over here." And taking me by the arm,
he led me out of the office.
During the stress of the day's business, we had come into close
relations, and I had been more than ever impressed with the vigorous
sense of this man. He displayed on that small field all the qualities of
leadership demanded in the management of a nation. His resource and calm
strength of mind inspired me with an unwonted warmth of admiration, and
I could even then think only with regret of the ruler and statesman who
had been smothered into the habit of a painstaking merchant. The
generous emotions of hero-worship thrilled within me, and I was
delighted to find that my admiration was repaid with a show of liking
and confidence.
"There is one thing I am apprehensive about," he said, as we climbed the
stairs to the Chamber of Commerce. "This meeting is a necessary thing,
but it seems to have roused anxiety rather than allayed it. I hope that
the speeches will be of a character to inspire confidence in our ability
to handle the situation. If we don't inspire that confidence, we shall
do more mischief than good."
As we entered the hall, we saw that it was already well filled with the
solid men of the city. Mayor Bryant was there with the chief of police.
General McComb nodded to me, and hastened to speak to Coleman. Members
of the state and city governments, bankers, merchants, and a sprinkling
of other classes of society were to be seen in the groups about the
room.
There was more of cheerful calmness about the meeting than I had
expected to find. The fact that these men were present was proof that
they felt the emergency to be grave; but their talk was flavored with
the saving salt of American humor that no calamity can suppress, and
inspired by the optimistic American sentiment that "it will all come out
right somehow."
I had scarce found a seat when General McComb with his most impressive
military air called the meeting to order. When the company had been
reduced to silence, he continued:
"I have taken the liberty of sending out the circulars that requested
you to meet here for the purpose of considering the safety of the city.
The people see in Monday night's outbreak the dangers that come when the
passions of the mob are given full sway. An honored citizen has been
struck down, property has been destroyed, and threats of worse things to
come are heard on every side. In this emergency we should organize to
give the city the protection essential to its preservation. We have
with us a man who has twice come forward to lead the loyal citizens in
the task of putting down the lawless and criminal elements of the city.
I ask that William T. Coleman be chosen as chairman of this meeting."
The response left no doubt that Mr. Coleman was the assembly's unanimous
choice. The men who had gathered there looked toward him with as
unquestioning confidence as ever soldiers looked to their captain. And
at the shout that answered General McComb, he walked to the chair with
the assured step of a man accustomed to command.
"I thank you for your confidence," he said. "I have not thought, I do
not think, that there is any pressing danger. But I recognize the moral
value of organization in times of disquiet, and I am here to assist in
putting the physical force of the city at the disposition of the
authorities. I have not seen any need for augmenting the military or
police forces of the city. But General McComb and Mayor Bryant, who
have had better opportunities than I to observe the situation, have
thought differently. Therefore let us take precautions. The people of
this city have proved through many trials that they are essentially
law-abiding. But there is a dangerous element here--an element of
lawless young men who do not think of results, and who do not shrink
from violence. If I had not realized this fact before, I should have
been forced to acknowledge it when one of my closest friends fell a
victim last night to their anger. But I have full confidence in the
manhood of San Francisco. If the city is threatened by a rising of the
disorderly elements I am ready to assure the authorities that a force of
twenty thousand men can be raised, if need be, for the defense of our
homes and property."
A silence followed the applause evoked by this speech. If the speaker
expressed more confidence than he felt, his words accomplished their
purpose of rousing the courage of the assembly before him. Then a
mild-faced man rose, and in halting voice asked the privilege of putting
a question.
"Mr. Chairman," he began, "why are not the constituted authorities
sufficient to cope with this outbreak? We have police. We have a
militia. They are the lawful arm of government to chastise the
evil-doer. Why are they not competent to handle the hoodlum mobs?"
General McComb was touched to the quick by the question thus put, and
rose with an air of military dignity.
"I can answer for the militia," he said with some asperity. "There is
no more loyal and competent body anywhere than the one I have the honor
to command. But the troops must be supported by the assurance that they
have the moral and physical backing of law-abiding citizens. That is
why I have asked you to meet us here. I have no doubt you would like to
hear from our worthy mayor on the needs of the city in this emergency."
Mayor Bryant got to his feet at this indirect appeal, and a much
troubled mayor he appeared. I doubted not from his expression that he
would have welcomed some plan by which his office might be administered
on the model of those German newspapers whose editors delegate to some
hireling the responsibilities that lead to _lese-majeste_ and the jail,
and pursue their way undisturbed by thoughts of consequences.
"I approve the proposed organization of citizens to cooeperate with the
municipal authorities," he began in halting and anxious tones. "It will
help us to keep the peace. But there wasn't so much violence last night
as some have thought. The body of the meeting was orderly. The trouble
came only from the hoodlums who broke off from it in droves to commit
violence. The responsible men of the labor organizations who were
present have called on me to say that they had no idea that the hoodlums
would take advantage of the meeting to create disorder."
Several military men followed the mayor with speeches of a fiery nature,
and advocated stern measures to subdue the riotous elements. At these
outbursts of martial ardor I could see Coleman's mouth tighten
imperceptibly into lines of disapproval and determination. At last his
growing impatience could be restrained no longer, and he interrupted a
resplendent militia colonel who was in full flight of an oration calling
for "action at once."
"I understand this subject," said Coleman with decision, "and you don't.
This is a matter that should not be discussed too fully or too publicly.
But since so much has been said, I will inform you, gentlemen, that you
don't know the mine you are standing on. The safety or destruction of
the city hangs on a pivot. There must be more spirit shown by the
law-abiding elements, or the balance will turn toward destruction.
There must be action, not talk. I do not want to accuse anybody of
lethargy, but the fact is there are too many men who call for the
suppression of disorder, and then go home and leave somebody else to
attend to their protection. The men who most deserve protection are
those who are ready to take arms in their hands to get it."
"Well, what course would you advise this meeting to take?" asked General
McComb.
"Organize at once," said the chairman in vigorous tones. "Appoint a
central committee--say of twenty-four. Then open rolls for men to sign,
pledging their persons and their money to protect the wives, children
and fortunes that are now at the mercy of the mob."
This inspiring counsel brought the assembly to its feet. In a tumult of
enthusiasm it was agreed that the chairman should appoint the committee,
and that the work of organization should begin at once. It was over in
another ten minutes. Coleman named the committee without hesitation,
and after it had held a brief session he announced that it had reported
in favor of immediate organization, and added:
"You are invited to put your hands to this instrument:
"'We, the undersigned citizens of San Francisco, do hereby enroll
ourselves as a General Committee of Safety, subject to the requirements
of the Special Committee of Twenty-Four, of which William T. Coleman,
Esq., is President, and we do hereby bind ourselves to act with the
committee to preserve the peace and well-being of the city with our
money and persons.'
"You will be given directions where to assemble, and what duties you are
to perform. I hope no able-bodied citizen will fail to give us his
services and support."
At a significant gesture from the president, these solid men of the city
crowded about the secretary to sign their names, and the Committee of
Safety was born.
*CHAPTER XXIV*
*THE JUSTICE OF BIG SAM*
"You seem to have done a good day's work," was Miss Kendrick's comment
on my brief account of the commercial struggle, "and you'll make a
business man yet if you keep on. I wish you could tell uncle about it,
but he's still unconscious." And her lip trembled at the sudden
remembrance of Wharton Kendrick's peril, until I thought for the moment
that she was going to burst into tears. But she commanded herself, and
continued in steady voice: "And now that you've done so well, I'll give
one of those reward-of-merit cards you used to get in school. It came
this afternoon, and I'm dying to know what's in it." And she brought
out a letter addressed in fine Spencerian copperplate script to "Mr.
Hampden, the Lawyer of Mr. Kendrick's House on Van Ness Avenue, San
Francisco."