We mean business."
A newsboy hurried down the street crying an extra on the inquest.
Brannan snatched one from his hand and the two men perused it eagerly.
The finding, couched in usual verbiage, recited the obvious facts that
Jenkins, alias Simpson, perished by strangulation and that "an
association of citizens styling themselves a Committee of Vigilance,"
was responsible.
"Eight of us are implicated, besides myself," said Brannan finally,
"they'll start proceedings probably at once."
"And they'll have the courts to back their dirty work," added Coleman,
thoughtfully. "That will never do," his teeth shut with a little click.
"I'm going to the _Herald_ office."
"What for?" asked Brannan, quickly.
"To publish the full list of names," Coleman responded. "We're all in
this together; no group must bear the brunt."
"But," objected Brannan, "is that wise?"
"Of course.... in union there is strength. These crooks will hesitate to
fight two hundred leading citizens; if they know them all they can't
pick out a few for persecution."
"Well, I'll go along," said Brannan. "Eh, what's that? What's happened
now?"
The Monumental engine bell was tolling violently.
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