urpose of Macondray and his friends.
"What shall we say to them, boys?" he asked.

"Put it in your own words," Bluxome said. "We'll stand by what you
say."

Coleman faced Macondray and his companions. "Tell J. Neely Johnson," he
announced, "that if he will consent to withdraw his proclamation we
will, on our part, make no further parade of our forces on the street,
nor will we resist by force any orders of the court."

Bluxome and his companions nodded. Macondray looked a trifle puzzled.
"Suppose he declines to withdraw the proclamation?" he asked,
hesitatingly.

"Then," the voice of Coleman rang, "we promise nothing."

* * * * *

On the boat which took them to Benicia, Macondray and his friends met
Major-General Sherman of the State Militia. They found him striding up
and down the deck, chewing his cigar. Macondray and he compared notes.
Sherman had been summoned for an interview with Johnson. The Governor
planned a final onslaught of persuasion, hoping General Wool would
change his mind; would furnish arms for the militia.

"If he doesn't, it's useless. Men can't fight without guns." Macondray
thought he noted an undertone of relief in Sherman's words.

"Do you think he'll give them to you?" Macondray asked in an undertone.
Sherman slowly shook his head. He walked away, as though he dreaded
further questioning.

* * * * *

At Benicia, Sherman and the Macondray party rode up in the same 'bus to
the Solano House. Sherman was admitted at once. The committee was asked
to wait. Sherman entered a room blue with tobacco smoke. It contained
four men, besides the Governor: Chief Justice David S. Terry, a tall man
with a hard face, sat tilted back in a chair, his feet on the Governor's
table. He had not taken off his hat. Without moving or apparently
looking in that direction, he spat at regular intervals toward the
fireplace. Near him sat Edward S. Baker, statesmanlike, impressive,
despite his drink-befuddlement; Edward Jones, of Palmer, Cook & Co.,
smaller, shrewd, keen and avaricious-eyed, was pouring a drink from a
decanter; Volney Howard, fat, pompous, aping a blase, decadent manner,
stood, as usual, near the mantel.

They all looked up as Sherman entered. Terry favored him with a
half-concealed scowl; Howard with an open sneer; Jones with deprecating
hostility. Baker smiled. The Governor, who seemed each day to grow more
nervous and irritable, hel