nevertheless been put to bed through the connivance of an anxious
mother and the family physician, who found him to have suffered some
severe contusions and lacerations in the morning's fray. But he was wide
awake and curious when his father's latch key grated in the door.

"It must have seemed like old times, didn't it, dad?" he asked with
enthusiasm. The Vigilance Committee of the Fifties in his young mind was
a knightly company. As a boy he used to listen, eager and excited, to
his father's tales of Coleman. Now his hero was again to take the stage.

"Yes, it took me back," said Windham. "I was about your age then and
Coleman was just in his thirties." He sat down a trifle wearily. "The
years aren't kind. Some of the fellows who were young in '56 seemed old
tonight.... But they have the same spirit."

"Tell me what happened," said Robert, after a pause.

Benito's eyes flashed. "You should have heard them cheer when Coleman
rose. He called for his old comrades and we stood up. Then there was
more cheering. Coleman is all business. He commenced at once enrolling
men for his pick-handle brigade; he's refused fire-arms. He has fifteen
hundred already, divided into companies of a hundred each--with their
own officers."

"And are you an officer, dad?" asked Robert.

"Yes," Benito smiled. "But my company is one man short. We've only
ninety-nine."

"How's that?" Robert's tone was puzzled.

Windham rose. "I'm saving it," he answered, "for a wounded hero, who, I
rather hope, will volunteer."

"FATHER!" cried the young man rapturously.

* * * * *

At the Mount Zion Hospital Po Lun fought with death on Tuesday. The
bullet was removed; but though this brought relief, there came an
aftermath of fever and destroying weakness. Alice and her son were at
his bedside, but Po Lun did not recognize them.

Mrs. Windham turned a tear-stained face to the physician. "Can nothing
be done?" she pleaded. "He saved my boy.... Oh, doctor! You won't
let him die."

The young physician's sympathy showed plainly in his eyes. "I've done
everything," he said. "He's sinking. If I knew a way to rouse him there
might be a chance."

As he spoke Francisco Stanley entered, viewed the silent figure on the
cot and shook his head. "Poor Po Lun. At any rate he's been a hero in
the papers. I've seen to that ..."

"He was delirious all morning ... stretching out his arms and calling
'Hang Far! Hang Far!' Do you kno