night and ill attended. A handsome woman followed it with streaming
eyes; a woman who lived by an evil trade, and the inmates of whose house
were given over to sin. Early that morning she had married a murderer.
Now she was a widow with a broken heart--she whom many stigmatized as
heartless.

For many years she was to visit and to weep over the grave of a little
dark man who had touched her affections; who might, under happier
conditions, have awakened her soul. She was Mrs. Charles Cora, born
Arabella Ryan, and widely known as "Belle," the mistress of a
bawdy house.

A few members of Casey's fire engine company paid him final honors.
Shrived, before his execution, he was laid in holy ground, a stone
erected over his grave.

* * * * *

The city returned more or less to its normal activities. But the
Vigilante Committee remained in active session. It had avenged the
deaths of Richardson and King, but it had other work to do.

About this time, Yankee Sullivan, prize-fighter, ballot-box stuffer and
political plug-ugly, killed himself in Vigilante quarters, evidently mad
with fear.

Ned McGowan, made of different stuff, arch plotter, thought by many to
be the instigator of King's murder, went into hiding.

[Illustration: In front of the building on a high platform, two men
stood.... A half suppressed roar went up from the throng.]

CHAPTER XLVII

HINTS OF CIVIL WAR

After the hanging a temporary reaction took place--a let-down from the
hectic, fevered agitations of preceding days. Members of the Law and
Order Party were secretly relieved by the removal of Casey and Cora.

"Now that they've shot their bolt, we'll have peace," said Hall
McAllister to Broderick. But the latter shook his head. "They've only
started, Mac," he answered, "don't deceive yourself. These Vigilantes
are business men; they've a business-like organization. Citizens are
still enlisting ... seven thousand now, I understand."

"Damn them!" said the lawyer, broodingly, "what d'ye think they'll be up
to next?"

"Don't damn them too much." Broderick's smile held a grim sort of humor.
"They're going to break up a political organization it's taken me years
to perfect. That ought to please you a little."

McAllister laughed. The two men shook hands and parted. They were
political enemies--McAllister of the Southern or "Chivalry" clan, which
yearned to make a slave State out of California; Broderick an
uncom