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"I'm told that most of them have gone over to the Vigilantes ... and taken their arms along." Sherman stroked his chin. "This place is not impregnable by any means," he remarked. "The first thing we must do is to secure the buildings on each side." "Too late," groaned Scannell. "I tried to find lodgings for some of my guards at Mrs. Hutchinson's boarding house. She slammed the door in my face.
"James," replied Scannell solemnly, "there are three thousand armed men coming for you and I have not thirty supporters around the jail." "Not thirty!" cried Casey astonished. For a moment he appeared crushed; then he leaped to his feet flourishing a long knife. "I'll not be taken from this place alive!" he cried. "Where are all you brave fellows who were going to see me through this?"
Another conference was held with the Sheriff, requesting the prisoner, Charles Cora, who had murdered General Richardson, to be turned over to the Committee. Scannell declined and asked time to consider. The Committee gave the Sheriff one hour in which to decide. In less than half that time the Sheriff appeared at the door of the jail and turned Cora over to the Committee.
Cora, in his cell, played solitaire and Casey made pretense of reading a book. Presently Scannell entered the room where Casey sat; it was not a cell nor had the door been locked since the withdrawal of the Vigilante guard. Casey looked up quickly. "What's the latest news from King?" "He's dying, so they say," retorted Scannell. "Dave," it was almost a whisper. "You've been to Broderick?
"I'll, not be taken from this place alive!" he shrieked, beside himself with hysteria. "Where are all you brave fellows who were going to see me through this?" Scannell looked at him sadly. In the pause came a sharp knocking at the door of the jail. The sheriff turned away. A moment later Casey, listening intently, heard the door open and close, heard the sound of talking.
"If you are referring to Mr. King, speak of him with respect." Sherman's tone was like a whiplash. The soldier turned to Scannell. "How many men have you? Men on whom you can depend in a crisis?" Scannell hesitated. "A hundred maybe ... but," he looked at Sherman hopefully, "there's your militia. Some of them served last night." "They've refused further service," said Van Ness.
Others came up and affixed their signatures: C.J. Dempster, the Post brothers, Alfred Rix, P.G. Childs and so on. Bluxome, relieved from his post, was No. 33. It proved in after days a potent numeral for it represented the secretarial seal on documents which spelled doom to evildoers; hope, law and order to an outraged populace. Meanwhile, McGowan, Scannell and his clan had not been idle.
Nevertheless he added a paragraph of warning: "Hang Billy Mulligan that's the word. If Mr. Sheriff Scannell does not remove Billy Mulligan from his present post as keeper of the County Jail and Mulligan lets Cora escape, hang Billy Mulligan, and if necessary to get rid of the sheriff, hang him hang the sheriff!" Public excitement died. Conviction seemed absolutely certain.
Swept clear of its lesser rascals, San Francisco still, ostensibly, was ruled by Freelon, Scannell, Byrne and other officials of the former city government, who had defied the people's invitation to resign. They did little more than mark time, however.
Then Coleman said "the people had no confidence in Scannell, the sheriff," who was, he said, in collusion with the rowdy element of San Francisco. Johnson then offered to be personally responsible that Casey should be safely guarded, and should be forthcoming for trial and execution at the proper time.
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