Three men were seized that night and put through a rigid examination. Early the next morning twelve more were taken, Manuel Crust among them. Half of them, in their terror, “squealed.” Crust himself was one of these. Almost before the people of the town knew what was afoot, the fifteen had been tried, convicted, and were on their way to the landing where boats were waiting to take them and their belongings off into exile. As for the conspirators themselves, the blow was so swift, so sudden, that they were dazed. It was like a bolt out of a clear sky.
Judge Malone sent them to “the Island” for indeterminate periods. At stated intervals they were to be released, one by one, and restored to citizenship. The shortest term of exile, however, was one year. The releases were to be decided by lot, except in the case of three men: Crust, Fernandez and an Irish sailor named Clark. They were the ringleaders and they were to remain on “the Island” until the time came for them to go aboard the relief ship with all the other citizens of Trigger. At the end of the first year, and once a month thereafter for twelve months, drawings were to be held, and the man whose name was drawn would be released.
“You are prisoners of state,” said Judge Malone, in passing sentence. “The state is obliged to feed you, and clothe you, and sustain you if you fall ill, no matter how bitterly it goes against the grain. You will not be obliged to work, or wash, or observe a single law. You may rob each other to your hearts' content, you may murder each other with perfect impunity, you may do just as you like. We started out to conduct the affairs of this island along lines laid down by the Golden Rule. I have come to the conclusion that the Golden Rule would be all right if it were not for the human race. I am beginning to believe that the Rule of Iron is the only one for the people of this earth to live under,--and that is a pretty hard thing for an Irishman to say. You men ought to be lined up against a wall and shot. We do not feel that we have the right to take your lives. It is not in our hearts to destroy you, as you would have destroyed us. But you may not dwell among us.”
Fernandez, wild with fury, shrieked vengeance upon the head of Olga Obosky. Out of his ravings, the unsavoury crew gleaned enough to convince them that he was responsible for their present unhappy plight.