Hours dragged by. That night there was looting in Ironville, and the local grocers suffered a sudden depletion of stock. Morning broke, gray and threatening, while through shack and cabin an ugly temper spread steadily. Clark perceived that the real thing was coming now. Once or twice he thought of Semple, who must already be closeted with the Premier. Just before midday a howling mob gathered swiftly outside the big gates, when instantly Baudette and his fifty axemen ran up and joined the guards. The crowd increased, and there went out an imperative summons to Manson who, with his thirty police, ranged himself half a mile away on the road to St. Marys. But for this the town was utterly unprotected. Came the pad pad of flying feet, and Fisette dashed up, swinging a prospecting pick. He grinned at the big constable. "By Gar!" he panted, "I guess we catch hell now." Followed a little pause, broken only by the deep threatening note of the crowd. Then Belding felt a touch on his shoulder. "Open the gates," said Clark evenly, "I want to speak to them." The engineer stared at the set face. His chief's eyes were like polished steel, and his jaw thrust out. There was no fear here. "Stay inside, sir. They'll kill you." The front rank caught sight of the erect figure. Then silence fell over them and spread slowly through the dark-browed multitude, Clark raised an imperative finger. The gates opened a fraction, and in front of them stood the man in whom the rioters perceived the head of their present world. "I want to tell you that your money is coming, and that I stay here till you are paid," rang the clear voice. For an instant there came no answer, but presently from the rear ranks rose again a bull-like roar. "You tell us that last week." Followed a murmur that ran through the packed mass of broad shoulders. "I tell you again--and it's true!" For reply, a short iron bolt came hurtling through the air. It took Clark on the cheek. He seemed not to feel it, but stood undaunted, while a trickle of blood crept down his smooth face. The sight of it seemed to rouse some latent fury in the mob, and a deep growl sounded ominously. He felt himself jerked suddenly back, and Belding and Baudette jumped in front of him. The woodsman balanced a great shining axe, and the engineer's automatic gleamed dully. "Get inside, sir, quick!" For the first time in his life, Clark felt himself passed from hand to hand, and landed, fuming, on the other side of the big gates. The voice of the mob lifted to an infuriated howl. Simultaneously the rear ranks pressed forward.