on.

But Markle overflowed with a torrent of vituperative profanity. His face
was congested and purple with the violence of his emotions. Keith stared in
astonishment at the depth of hatred stirred. He turned for explanation to
the man next him, Judge Girvin, a gentleman of the old school, weighty,
authoritative, a little pompous.

"That is Coleman," Judge Girvin told him. "W.T. Coleman, the leader of the
vigilance movement of last year."

"That's why," repeated Calhoun Bennett, with quiet vindictiveness,
"lawlessness, disrespect foh law and order, mob rule. Since this strangler
business, no man can predict what the lawless element may do!"

This speech was the signal for an outburst against the Vigilance Committee,
so unanimous and hearty that Keith was rather taken aback. He voiced his
bewilderment.

"Why, gentlemen, I am, of course, only in the most distant touch with these
events; but the impression East is certainly very general that the
Vigilantes did rather a good piece of work in clearing the city of crime."

They turned on him with a savagery that took his breath. Keith, laughing,
held up both hands.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot! I'll come down!" he cried. "I told you I didn't
know anything about it!"

They checked themselves, suddenly ashamed of their heat. Calhoun Bennett