"His paper is no good, and he wouldn’t carry anybody else with him if he went to the wall," objected Partridge, when the man we had insisted on saving from ruin had gone out. "The paper is bad," admitted Nelson, "but the man is all right. I like his looks." "Yes," I added, "we have double the chance of getting the money back from him that we have of getting it from that fat, oily-tongued fellow who stood us up for twenty thousand a few minutes ago." I was pleased to remind Partridge of the incident a few months later when our protégé redeemed his obligation in full at the same time that the oily-tongued heavy-weight compromised for thirty cents on the dollar. But despite this temporary disagreement I was none the less ready to follow Partridge’s judgment on the cases that came before us. And after the cross-questioning of the applicant was over, Nelson and I rarely refused a nod of assent to his inquiring glance. His comments ran something like this, as the stream of the financially lame, halt and blind passed before us: "That’s all tommyrot--you don’t need the half of that. Seven thousand will pull you through. Here! what do you mean by coming to us? Any bank in the city would take that collateral. No. Not a dollar unless you will make over your stock to Nelson as trustee. Here! you’ll have to get your brother to sign that note. Take it now. He’ll do it, when you tell him that we won’t touch it without. That collateral is no good; I know you’ve got better. Don’t waste our time, unless you’re willing to show it. See here! you’ll need more than that. What do you mean by telling us that you owe only ten thousand when your balance-sheet here calls for eighteen? Come now, do you think we are running a charity soup-house? You’ve got unencumbered real estate; raise your money on that." We had been at this work close upon two hours when William T. Coleman returned. He brought a list of merchants who would need assistance, and the amounts that we might safely advance them. "There’s a very scary feeling outside," he said. "There are all sorts of rumors about plots to burn the city, and some men are foolish enough to say that San Francisco is going to be worse than Pittsburgh." "That’s not impossible," said Nelson. "I know there has been plenty of talk in the anti-coolie clubs about burning the Pacific Mail steamers," I said. "But I don’t think they will have the courage for it." "It’s only a question of leadership," said Coleman, "and that may develop at any minute. A mob is a queer creature. You can’t tell what it will do. It is a coward by itself, but it is often capable of great courage when it has a leader--sometimes when it thinks it has a leader." "What we need is troops," said Nelson. "I hope, Coleman, that you will use your influence with Bryant and Governor Irwin to get the militia called out. They ought to ask for Federal troops. There’ll be no nonsense where they are stationed. They shoot to kill."