seemed to indicate a permanent occupation. Doorkeepers were always in
attendance, and sentinels patrolled in the streets and on the roof.
Every day the Executive Committee was in session for all of the daylight
hours. A blacklist was in preparation. Orders were issued for the
Vigilante police to arrest certain men and to warn certain others to
leave town immediately. A choice haul was made of the lesser lights of
the ward-heelers and chief politicians. A very good sample was the
notorious Yankee Sullivan, an ex-prize-fighter, ward-heeler, ballot-box
stuffer, and shoulder-striker. He, it will be remembered, was the man
who returned Casey as supervisor in a district where, as far as is
known, Casey was not a candidate and no one could be found who had voted
for him. This individual went to pieces completely shortly after his
arrest. He not only confessed the details of many of his own crimes but,
what was more important, disclosed valuable information as to others.
His testimony was important, not necessarily as final proof against
those whom he accused, but as indication of the need of thorough
investigation. Then without warning he committed suicide in his cell. On
investigation it turned out that he had been accustomed to from sixty
to eighty drinks of whiskey each day, and the sudden and complete
deprivation had unhinged his mind. Warned by this unforeseen
circumstance, the Committee henceforth issued regular rations of whiskey
to all its prisoners, a fact which is a striking commentary on the
character of the latter. It is to be noted, furthermore, that liquor of
all sorts was debarred from the deliberations of the Vigilantes
themselves.

Trials went briskly forward in due order, with counsel for defense and
ample opportunity to call witnesses. There were no more capital
punishments. It was made known that the Committee had set for itself a
rule that capital punishment would be inflicted by it only for crimes so