 Part 2 Chapter 2 of The Valley of Fear. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Valley of Fear by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Chapter 2 The Bodymaster. McMurdo was a man who made his mark quickly. Whatever he was, the folk around soon knew it. Within a week he had become infinitely the most important person at Shafters. There were ten or a dozen borders there, but they were honest foremen, or commonplace clerks, from the stores, of a very different caliber from the young Irishmen. Of an evening when they gathered together, his joke was always the readiest, his conversation the brightest, and his song the best. He was a born boon companion, with a magnetism which drew good humor from all around him. And yet he showed, again and again, as he had shown in the railway carriage, a capacity for sudden fierce anger which compelled the respect and even the fear of those who met him. For the long too, and all who were connected with it, he exhibited a bitter contempt which delighted some and alarmed others of his fellow-borders. From the first he made it evident, by his open admiration, that the daughter of the house had won his heart from the instant that he had set eyes upon her beauty and her grace. He was no backward suitor. On the second day he told her that he loved her, and from then onward he repeated the same story with an absolute disregard of what she might say to discourage him. Someone else? He would cry. Well, the worst luck for someone else. Let him look out for himself. Am I to lose my life's chance, and all my heart's desire for someone else? You can keep on saying no, Eddie. The day will come when you will say yes, and I'm young enough to wait. He was a dangerous suitor, with his glib Irish tongue and his pretty coaxing ways. There was about him also that glamour of experience and of mystery which attracts a woman's interest, and finally her love. He could talk of the sweet malleys of County Monaghan, from which he came, of the lovely distant islands, the low hills and green meadows, of which seemed the more beautiful when imagination viewed them from this place of grime and snow. Then he was versed in the life of the cities of the north, of Detroit, and the lumber camps of Michigan, and finally of Chicago, where he had worked in a planing mill. And afterwards came the hint of romance, the feeling that strange things that happened to him in that great city, so strange and so intimate that they might not be spoken of. He spoke wistfully of a sudden leaving, a breaking of old ties, a flight into a strange world, ending in this dreary valley, and Eddie listened, her dark eyes, gleaming with pity and with sympathy, those two qualities which may turn so rapidly and so naturally to love. McMurdo had obtained a temporary job as a bookkeeper, for he was a well-educated man. This kept him out most of the day, and he had not found occasion yet to report himself to the head of the lodge of the eminent order of Freeman. He was reminded of his admission, however, by a visit one evening from Mike Scanlon, the fellow member whom he had met in the train. Scanlon, the small, sharp-faced, nervous, black-eyed man, seemed glad to see him once more. After a glass or two of whiskey he broached the subject of his visit. "'Say, McMurdo,' said he, "'I have remembered your address, so I made bold to call. I am surprised that you have not reported to the bodymaster. Why haven't you seen Boss McGinty yet?' "'Well, I had to find a job. I have been busy. You must find time for him if you have none for anything else. Good Lord man, you are a fool not to have been down to the Union House and registered your name the first morning after you came here. If you run against him, well, you mustn't, that's all.' McMurdo showed mild surprise. "'I've been a member of the Lodge for over two years, Scanlon, but I never heard that duties were so pressing as all that.' "'Maybe not in Chicago.' "'Well, it's the same society here.' "'Is it?' Scanlon looked at him long and fixedly. There was something sinister in his eyes. "'Isn't it?' "'You'll tell me that in a month's time. I hear you had a talk with a patrolman after I left the train. How did you know that?' "'Oh, it got about. Things do get about for good and for bad in this district.' "'Well, yes. I told the Hounds what I thought of them.' "'By the Lord you'll be a man after McGinty's heart.' "'What? Does he hate the police, too?' Scanlon burst out laughing. "'You go and see him, my lad,' said he as he took his leave. "'It's not the police, but you that he'll hate if you don't. Now take a friend's advice and go at once.' He chanced that on the same evening McMurdo had another more pressing interview which urged him in the same direction. It may have been that his attentions to Eddie had been more evident than before, or that they had gradually obtruded themselves into the slow mind of his good German host. But whatever the cause, the boarding-housekeeper back into the young man into his private room and started on the subject without any circumlocution. "'It seems to me, mister,' said he, that you are getting set on my Eddie. Ain't that so, or am I wrong?' "'Yes, that is so,' the young man answered. "'Well, I want to tell you right now that it ain't no manner of use. There's someone slipped in for you.' She told me so. "'Well, you can lay that she told you truth, but did she tell you who it was?' "'No,' I asked her, but she wouldn't tell. "'I daresay not the little baggage. Perhaps she did not wish to frighten you of A.' "'Frighten,' McMurdo was on fire in a moment. "'Ah, yes, my friend, you need not be ashamed to be frightened of him. It is, Teddy Baldwin. And who the devil is he?' "'He is a boss of the Scourers.' "'Scourers? I've heard of them before. It's Scourers here and Scourers there, and always in a whisper. What are you all afraid of? Who are the Scourers?' The boarding-housekeeper instinctively sank his voice, as everyone did who talked about that terrible society. "'The Scourers,' said he, are the eminent order of Freeman. The young man stared. Why, I am a member of that order myself. You, I would never have had you in my house if I had known it. Not if you were to pay me a hundred dollars a week. What's wrong with the order? It's for charity and good fellowship. The rules say so. Maybe in some place, not here. What is it here?' "'It's a murder society. That's what it is.' McMurdo laughed incredulously. "'How can you prove that?' he asked. "'Prove it? Are there not fifty murders to prove it? That about Millam and Van Schorst and the Nicholson family and old Mr. Hyam and little Billy James and the others. Prove it. Is there a man or a woman in this valley if it does not know it?' "'See here,' said McMurdo earnestly. I want you to take back what you've said, or else make it good. One or the other you must do before I quit this room. Put yourself in my place. Here I am, a stranger in the town. I belong to a society that I know only as an innocent one. You'll find it through the length and breadth of the States, but always as an innocent one. Now, when I am counting upon joining it here, you tell me that it is the same as a murder society called the Scourers. I guess you owe me either an apology or else an explanation, Mr. Schafter. I can but tell you that the whole world knows, Mr.—the bosses of the one are the bosses of the other. If you offend the one, it is the other that will strike you. We have proved it too often.' "'That's just gossip. I want proof,' said McMurdo. "'If you live here long, you will get your proof, but I forget that you are yourself one of them. You will soon be as bad as the rest. But you will find other lodgings, Mr.—I cannot have you here. Is it not bad enough that one of these people come quoting my eddy, and that I dare not turn him down, but that I should have another for my border? Yes, indeed, you shall not sleep here after to-night.' McMurdo found himself under sentence of banishment, both from his comfortable quarters and from the girl whom he loved. He found her alone in the sitting-room, that same evening, and he poured his troubles into her ear. "'Sure, your father is after giving me notice,' he said. It's little I would care if it was just my room, but indeed, eddy, though it's only a week that I've known you, you are the very breath of life to me, and I can't live without you.' "'Oh, hush, Mr. McMurdo, don't speak so,' said the girl. "'I have told you, have I not, that you are too late?' "'There is another, and if I have not promised to marry him at once, at least I can promise no one else.' "'Suppose I have been first, eddy, would I have had a chance?' The girl sank her face into her hands. "'I wish to heaven that you had been first,' she sobbed. McMurdo was down on his knees before her in an instant. "'For God's sake, eddy, let it stand at that,' he cried. "'Will you ruin your life and my own for the sake of this promise?' "'Follow your heart, Akushla. "'Tis a safer guide than any promise before you knew what it was that you were saying.' He had seized eddy's white hands between his own strong brown ones. "'Say that you will be mine, and we will face it out together.' "'Not here?' "'Yes, here.' "'No, no, Jack,' his arms were round her now. "'It could not be here. "'Could you take me away?' A struggle passed for a moment over McMurdo's face, but it ended by setting like granite. "'No, here,' he said. "'I'll hold you against the world, eddy, right here where we are. "'Why should we not leave together?' "'No, eddy, I can't leave here. "'But why?' "'I'd never hold my head up again if I felt that I had been driven out. "'Besides, what is there to be afraid of? "'Are we not free folks in a free country? "'If you love me, and I you, who will dare to come between?' "'You don't know, Jack. "'You've been here too short a time. "'You don't know this Baldwin. "'You don't know McGinty and his scourers.' "'No, I don't know them, and I don't fear them, and I don't believe in them,' said McMurdo. "'I've lived among rough men, my darling, and instead of fearing them, it has always ended that they have feared me. Always, eddy. It's mad on the face of it. If these men, as your father says, have done crime after crime in the valley, and if everyone knows them by name, how comes it that none are brought to justice? You answer me that, eddy.' "'Because no witness dares to appear against them. He would not live a month if he did. Also because they have always their own men to swear that the accused one was far from the scene of the crime. But shortly, Jack, you must have read all this. I had understood that every paper in the United States was writing about it. Well, I have read something, it is true, but I had thought it was a story. Maybe these men have some reason in what they do. Maybe they are wronged and have no other way to help themselves.' "'Oh, Jack, don't let me hear you speak so. That is how he speaks. The other one.' "'Baldwin, he speaks like that, does he?' "'And that is why I loathe him so. Oh, Jack, now I can tell you the truth. I loathe him with all my heart, but I fear him also. I fear him for myself. But above all, I fear him for father. I know that some great sorrow would come upon us if I dared to say what I really felt. That is why I have put him off with half promises. It was in real truth our only hope. But if you would fly with me, Jack, we could take father with us and live forever far from the power of these wicked men.' Again, there was the struggle upon McMurdo's face, and again it sat like granite. "'No harm shall come to you, Eddie, nor to your father either. As to wicked men, I expect you may find that I am as bad as the worst of them before we're through.' "'No, no, Jack, I would trust you anywhere,' McMurdo laughed bitterly. "'Good Lord, how little you know of me! Your innocent soul, my darling, could not even guess what is passing in mine. But hello, who's the visitor?' The door had opened suddenly, and a young fellow came swaggering in with the air of one who is the master. It was a handsome, dashing young man of about the same age in build as McMurdo himself. Under his broad-rimmed, black-felt hat, which he had not trouble to remove, a handsome face with fierce, domineering eyes, and a curved, hawk-bill of a nose, looked savagely at the pair who sat by the stove. Eddie had jumped to her feet full of confusion and alarm. "'I'm glad to see you, Mr. Baldwin,' said she. "'You're earlier than I had thought. Come and sit down.'" Baldwin stood with his hands on his hips, looking at McMurdo. "'Who is this?' he asked curtly. "'It's a friend of mine, Mr. Baldwin. A new porter here. Mr. McMurdo, may I introduce you to Mr. Baldwin?' The young men nodded in surly fashion to each other. "'Maybe Miss Eddie has told you how it is with us,' said Baldwin. "'I didn't understand that there was any relation between you.' "'Didn't you? Well, you can understand it now. You can take it from me that this young lady is mine, and you'll find it a very fine evening for a walk.' "'Thank you. I am in no humor for a walk.' "'Aren't you?' the man's savage eyes were blazing with anger. "'Maybe you are in a humor for a fight, Mr. Border.' "'That I am,' cried McMurdo, springing to his feet. You never said a more welcome word.' "'For God's sake, Jack! Oh, for God's sake!' cried poor distracted Eddie. "'Oh, Jack! Jack, he will hurt you.' "'Oh, it's Jack, is it?' said Baldwin with an oath. "'You've come to that already, have you?' "'Oh, Ted, be reasonable. Be kind. For my sake, Ted, if you ever loved me, be big-hearted and forgiving.' "'I think, Eddie, that if you were to leave us alone we could get this thing settled,' said McMurdo quietly. "'Or maybe, Mr. Baldwin, you will take a turn down the street with me. It's a fine evening, and there is some open ground beyond the next block.' "'I'll get even with you without needing to dirty my hands,' said his enemy. "'You'll wish you had never set foot in this house before I am through with you.' "'No time like the present!' cried McMurdo. "'I'll choose my own time, Mr. You can leave the time to me.' "'See here!' he suddenly rolled up his sleeve and showed upon his forearm a peculiar sign which appeared to have been branded there. It was a circle with a triangle within it. Do you know what that means? I neither know nor care.' "'Well, you will know, I'll promise you that. You won't be much older, either. Perhaps Miss Eddie can tell you something about it. As to you, Eddie, you'll come back to me on your knees. Do you hear, girl, on your knees, and then I'll tell you what your punishment may be. You've sewed, and by the Lord I'll see that you reap.' He glanced at them both in fury. Then he turned upon his heel, and an instant later the outer door had banged behind him. For a few moments McMurdo and the girl stood in silence. Then she threw her arms around him. "'Oh, Jack, how brave you were! But it is no use. You must fly. Tonight, Jack, tonight, it's your only hope. He will have your life. I read it in his horrible eyes. What chance have you against a dozen of them, with Boss McGinty, and all the power of the lodge behind them?' McMurdo disengaged her hands, kissed her, and gently pushed her back into a chair. "'There, Akushla, there. Don't be disturbed or fear for me. I'm a freeman myself. I'm after telling your father about it. Maybe I am no better than the others, so don't make a saint of me. Perhaps you hate me, too, now that I've told you as much?' "'Hate you, Jack. While life lasts, I could never do that. I've heard that there is no harm in being a freeman anywhere but here. So why should I think the worst of you for that? But if you are a freeman, Jack, why should you knock her down and make a friend of Boss McGinty? Oh, hurry, Jack, hurry. Get your word in first, or the hounds will be on your trail.' "'I was thinking the same thing,' said McMurdo. "'I'll go right now and fix it. You can tell your father that I'll sleep here tonight and find some other quarters in the morning.' The bar of McGinty's saloon was crowded as usual, for it was the favorite loafing place of all the rougher elements of the town. The man was popular, for he had a rough, jovial disposition which formed a mask, covering a great deal which lay behind it. But apart from this popularity, the fear in which he was held throughout the township and indeed down the whole thirty miles of the valley and past the mountains on each side of it was enough in itself to fill his bar, for none could afford to neglect his goodwill. Besides those secret powers which it was universally believed that he exercised in so pitiless a fashion, he was a high public official, a municipal counsellor, and a commissioner of roads, elected to the office through the votes of the ruffians who in turn expected to receive fafers at his hands. Assessments and taxes were enormous. The public works were notoriously neglected, the accounts were slurred over by bribed auditors, and the decent citizen was terrorized into paying public blackmail, and holding his tongue less some worse thing before him. Thus it was that, year by year, Boss McGinty's diamond pins became more obtrusive, his gold chains more weighty across a more gorgeous vest, and his saloon stretched farther and farther until it threatened to absorb one whole side of the market square. McMurdo pushed open the swinging door of the saloon and made his way amid the crowd of men within, through an atmosphere blurred with tobacco smoke and heavy with the smell of spirits. The place was brilliantly lighted, and the huge heavily gilt mirrors upon every wall reflected and multiplied the garish illumination. There were several bartenders in their shirt sleeves, hard at work mixing drinks for the loungers who fringed the broad brass-trimmed counter. At the far end, with his body resting upon the bar, and a cigar stuck at an acute angle from the corner of his mouth, stood a tall, strong, heavily built man who could be none other than the famous McGinty himself. He was a black-maned giant, bearded to the cheekbones and with a shock of raven hair which fell to his collar. His complexion was as swarthy as that of an Italian, and his eyes were of a strange dead black, which, combined with a slight squint, gave them a particularly sinister appearance. All else in the man, his noble proportions, his fine features, and his frank bearing fitted in with that jovial, man-to-man manner which he affected. Here, one would say, is a bluff, honest fellow, whose heart would be sound, however rude his outspoken words might seem. It was only when those dead, dark eyes, deep and remorseless, were turned upon a man that he shrank within himself, feeling that he was face to face with an infinite possibility of latent evil, with a strength and courage and cunning behind it which made it a thousand times more deadly. Having had a good look at his man, McMurdo elbowed his way forward with his usual careless audacity, and pushed himself through the little group of courtiers who were fawning upon the powerful boss, laughing uproariously at the smallest of his jokes. The young stranger's bold gray eyes looked back fearlessly through their glasses at the deadly black ones which turned sharply upon him. Well, young man, I can't call your face to mind. I'm new here, Mr. McGinty. You are not so new that you can't give a gentleman his proper title. He's Counselor McGinty, young man, said a voice from the group. I'm sorry, Counselor. I'm strange to the ways of the place, but I was advised to see you. Well, you see me. This is all there is. What do you think of me? Well, it's early days. If your heart is as big as your body, and your soul as fine as your face, then I'd ask for nothing better, said McMurdo. By gar you've got an Irish tongue in your head anyhow, cried the saloonkeeper, not quite certain whether to humor this audacious visitor or to stand upon his dignity. So you are good enough to pass my appearance? Sure, said McMurdo. And you were told to see me. I was. And who told you? Brother Scanlon of Lodge 341, Vermissa. I drink your health, Counselor, and to our better acquaintance. He raised a glass, with which he had been served, to his lips, and elevated his little finger as he drank it. McGinty, who had been watching him narrowly, raised his thick black eyebrows. Oh, it's like that, is it? Said he. I'll have to look a bit closer into this, Mr. McMurdo. A bit closer, Mr. McMurdo, for we don't take focal entrust in these parts, nor believe all were told neither. One here for a moment, behind the bar. There was a small room there, lined with barrels. McGinty carefully closed the door, and then seated himself on one of them, biting thoughtfully on his cigar, and surveying his companion with those disquieting eyes. For a couple of minutes he sat in complete silence. McMurdo bore the inspection cheerfully, one hand in his coat pocket, the other twisting his brown mustache. Suddenly McGinty stooped and produced a wicked-looking revolver. See here, my Joker, said he, if I thought you were playing any game on us, it would be short work for you. This is a strange welcome, McMurdo answered with some dignity, for the bodymaster of a lodge of freemen to give to a stranger brother. I, but it's just that same that you have to prove, said McGinty, and God help you if you fail. Where were you made? Lodge 29, Chicago. When? June 24th, 1872. What bodymaster? James H. Scott. Who is your district ruler? Bartholomew Wilson. Hum, you seem glib enough in your tests. What are you doing here? Nothing, the same as you, but a poorer job. You have your back answer quick enough. Yes, I always was quick of speech. Are you quick of action? I have had that name among those that knew me best. Well, we may try you sooner than you think. Have you heard anything of the lodge in these parts? I've heard that it takes a man to be a brother. True for you, Mr. McMurdo. Why did you leave Chicago? I'm damned if I tell you that. McGinty opened his eyes. He was not used to being answered in such fashion, and it amused him. Why won't you tell me? Because no brother may tell another a lie. Then the truth is too bad to tell. You can put it that way if you like. See here, master, you can't expect me, as bodymaster, to pass into the lodge a man for whose pass he can't answer. McMurdo look puzzled. Then he took a worn newspaper cutting from an inner pocket. You won't squeal in a fellow, said he. I'll wipe my hand across your face if you say such words to me, cried McGinty hotly. You are right, counselor, said McMurdo meekly. I should apologize. I spoke without thought. Well, I know that I am safe in your hands. Look at that clipping. McGinty glanced his eyes over the accounts of the shooting of one Jonas Pinto in the Lake Saloon, Market Street, Chicago, in the New Year week of 1874. Your work? He asked, as he handed back the paper. McMurdo nodded. Why did you shoot him? I was helping Uncle Sam to make dollars. Maybe mine were not as good gold as his, but they looked as well and were cheaper to make. This man Pinto helped me to shove the queer… to do what? Well, it means to pass the dollars out into circulation. Then he said he would split. Maybe he did split. I didn't wait to see. I just killed him and lighted out for the coal country. Why the coal country? Because I had read in the papers that they weren't too particular in those parts. McGinty laughed. You were first a coiner, and then a murderer, and you came to these parts because you thought you'd be welcome. That's about the size of it, McMurdo answered. Well, I guess you'll go far. Say, can you make those dollars yet? McMurdo took half a dozen from his pocket. Those never passed the Philadelphia Mint, said he. You don't say. McGinty held them to the light in his enormous hand, which was Harry's gorillas. I can see no difference. Gar, you'll be a mighty useful brother, I'm thinking. We can do with a bad manner to among us, friend McMurdo, for there are times when we have to take our own part. We'd soon be against the wall if we didn't shove back at those that were pushing us. Well, I guess I'll do my share of shoving with the rest of the boys. You seemed to have a good nerve, and didn't squirm when I shoved this gun at you. It was not me that was in danger. Who then? It was you, counselor. McMurdo drew a cocked pistol from the side pocket of his P-jacket. I was covering you all the time. I guess my shunt would have been as quick as yours. By Gar McGinty flushed an angry red, and then burst into a roar of laughter. Today we've had no such holy terrors come to hand this many a year. I reckon the lodge will learn to be proud of you. Well, what the hell do you want? And can't I speak alone with a gentleman for five minutes, but you must butt in on us? The bartender stood abashed. I'm sorry, counselor, but it's Ted Baldwin. He says he must see you these very minutes. The message was unnecessary. After the set, cruel face of the man himself was looking over the servant's shoulder. He pushed the bartender out and closed the door on him. So, he said with a furious glance at McMurdo, you got here first, did you? I have a word to say to you, counselor, about this man. Then say it here and now before my face, cried McMurdo. I'll say it at my own time, in my own way. Tut, tut, said McGinty, getting off his barrel. This will never do. We have a new brother here, Baldwin, and it's not for us to greet him in such fashion. Hold out your hand, man, and make it up. Never, cried Baldwin in a fury. I've offered to fight him if he thinks I have wronged him, said McMurdo. I'll fight him with fists, or if that won't satisfy him, I'll fight him any other way he chooses. Now I'll leave it to you, counselor, to judge between us as a bodymaster should. What is it, then? A young lady, she's free to choose for herself. Is she, cried Baldwin? As between two brothers of a lodge, I should say that she was, said the boss. Oh, that's your ruling, is it? Yes, it is, said Baldwin, said McGinty, with a wicked stare. Is it you that would dispute it? You would throw over one that has stood by you this five years in favor of a man that you never saw before in your life? You're not bodymaster for life, Jack McGinty, and by God, when next it comes to a vote? The counselor sprang at him like a tiger, his hand close round the other's neck, and he hurled him back across one of the barrels. In his mad fury he would have squeezed the life out of him if McMurdo had not interfered. He counselor, for heaven's sake, go easy! He cried as he dragged him back. McGinty released his holds, and Baldwin, cowled and shaken, gasping for breath, and shivering in every limb, as one who has looked over the very edge of death, sat up on the barrel over which he had been hurled. You've been asking for it this many a day, Ted Baldwin, now you've got it! Cried McGinty, his huge chest rising and falling. If you think if I was voted down for bodymaster you would find yourself in my shoes. It's for the lodge to say that, but so long as I am the chief I'll have no man lift his voice against me or my rulings. I have nothing against you, mumbled Baldwin, feeling his throat. Well, then, cried the other, relapsing into a moment of bluffed joviality, we are all good friends again and there's an end of the matter. He took a bottle of champagne down from the shelf and twisted out the cork. See now, he continued, as he filled three high glasses, let us drink the quarreling toast of the lodge. After that, as you know, there can be no bad blood between us. Now, then the left hands on the apple of my throat. I say to you, Ted Baldwin, what is the offence, sir? The clouds are heavy, answered Baldwin. But they will forever brighten. And this I swear. The men drank their glasses, and the same ceremony was performed between Baldwin and McMurdo. There, cried McGinty, rubbing his hands. That's the end of the black blood. You come under lodge discipline if it goes further, and that's a heavy hand in these parts, as brother Baldwin knows. And as you will damn soon find out, brother McMurdo, if you ask for trouble. Faith, I'd be slow to do that, said McMurdo. He held out his hand to Baldwin. I'm quick to quarrel and quick to forgive. It's my hot Irish blood, they tell me. But it's over for me, and I bear no grudge. Baldwin had to take the proffered hand, for the baleful eye of the terrible boss was upon him. But his sullen face showed how little the words of the other had moved him. He clapped them both on the shoulders. Tut, these girls, these girls," he cried, to think that the same petticoats should come between two of my boys. It's the devil's own luck. Well, it's the culling inside of them that must settle the question. For it's outside the jurisdiction of a bodymaster, and the Lord be praised for that. We have enough on us without the women as well. You'll have to be affiliated to lodge 341, brother McMurdo. We have our own ways and methods, different from Chicago. Saturday night is our meeting, and if you come then, we'll make you free forever of the Vermissa Valley. End of Chapter 2. On the day following the evening which had contained so many exciting events, McMurdo moved to his lodgings from old Jacob's Shafters and took up his quarters at the widow McNamara's on the extreme outskirts of the town. Scanlon, his original acquaintance aboard the train, had occasion shortly afterwards to move into Vermissa and the two lodged together. There was no other border, and the hostess was an easygoing old Irish woman who left them to themselves, so that they had a freedom for speech and action welcomed to men who had secrets in common. Shafter had relented to the extent of letting McMurdo come to his meals there when he liked, so that his intercourse with Eddie was by no means broken. On the contrary, it grew closer and more intimate as the weeks went by. In his bedroom at his new abode, McMurdo felt it safe to take out the coining molds, and under many a pledge of secrecy a number of brothers from the lodge were allowed to come in and see them, each carrying away in his pocket some examples of the false money. So cunningly struck that there was never the slightest difficulty or danger in passing it. Why, with such a wonderful art at his command, McMurdo should condescend to work at all, was a perpetual mystery to his companions, though he made it clear to anyone who asked him that if he lived without any visible means it would very quickly bring the police upon his track. One policeman was indeed after him already, but the incident, as luck would have it, did the adventurer a great deal more good than harm. After the first introduction there were few evenings when he did not find his way to McGinty's Saloon, there to make closer acquaintance with the boys, which was the jovial title by which the dangerous gang, who infested the place, were known to one another. His dashing manner and fearlessness of speech made him a favorite with them all, while the rapid and scientific way in which he polished off his antagonist in an all-in barroom scrap earned the respect of that rough community. Another incident, however, raised him even higher in their estimation. First at the crowded hour one night the door opened and a man entered with the quiet blue uniform and peaked cap of the mine police. This was a special body raised by the railways and colliery owners to supplement the efforts of the ordinary civil police, who were perfectly helpless in the face of the organized roughenism which terrorized the district. There was a hush as he entered, and many a curious glance was cast at him, but the relations between policemen and criminals are peculiar in some parts of the states, and McGinty himself, standing behind his counter, showed no surprise when the policeman enrolled himself among his customers. A straight whiskey for the night is bitter, said the police officer. I don't think we've met before, counselor. You'll be the new captain, said McGinty. But so we're looking to you, counselor, and to the other leading citizens, to help us in upholding law and order in this township. Captain Marvin is my name. We'd do better without you, Captain Marvin, said McGinty coldly, for we have our own police of the township, and no need for any imported goods. What are you but the paid tool of the capitalists, hired by them to club or shoot your poor fellow-citizen? Well, well, we won't argue about that, said the police officer good-humoredly. I expect we all do our duty same as we see it, but we can't all see it the same. He had drunk off his glass, and had turned to go, when his eyes fell upon the face of Jack McMurdo, who was scowling at his elbow. Hello, hello! he cried, looking him up and down. Here's an old acquaintance. McMurdo shrank away from him. I was never a friend to you, nor do any other cursed copper in my life, said he. An acquaintance isn't always a friend, said the police captain, grinning. You're Jack McMurdo of Chicago, right enough, and don't you deny it. McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. I'm not denying it, said he. Do you think I'm ashamed of my own name? You've got good cause to be anyhow. What the devil do you mean by that? He roared with his fists clenched. No, no, Jack, Bluster won't do with me. I was an officer in Chicago before ever I came to this darned coal-bunker, and I know a Chicago crook when I see one. His face fell. Don't tell me that you're Marvin of the Chicago Central. He cried. Just the same old Teddy Marvin at your service. We haven't forgotten the shooting of Jonas Pinto up there. I never shot him. Did you not? That's good impartial evidence, ain't it? Well his death came in uncommon handy for you, or they would have had you for shoving the queer. Well, we can let that be bygones, for between you and me, and perhaps I'm going further than my duty in saying it. They could get no clear case against you, and Chicago's open to you tomorrow. I'm very well where I am. Well, I've given you the pointer, and you're a salky dog not to thank me for it. Well, I suppose you mean well, and I do thank you, said McMurdo in no very gracious manner. It's mum with me so long as I see you living on the strait, said the captain. But, by the Lord, if you get off after this, it's another story. So good night to you, and good night, counselor. He left the bar room, but not before he had created a local hero. McMurdo's deeds in far Chicago had been whispered before. He had put off all questions with a smile, as one who did not wish to have greatness thrust upon him. But now the thing was officially confirmed. The bar loafers crowded round him and shook him heartily by the hand. He was free of the community from that time on. He could drink hard and show little trace of it. But that evening, had his mate Scanlon not been at hand to lead him home, the defeated hero would surely have spent his night under the bar. This Saturday night McMurdo was introduced to the lodge. He had thought to pass in without ceremony, as being an initiate of Chicago. But there were particular rites in Vermissa, of which they were proud, and these had to be undergone by every postulence. The assembly met in a large room reserved for such purposes at the Union House. Some sixty members assembled at Vermissa, but that by no means represented the full strength of the organization, for there were several other lodges in the valley, and others across the mountains on each side, who exchanged members when any serious business was afoot, so that a crime might be done by men who were strangers to the locality. Altogether there were not less than five hundred scattered over the coal district. In the bare assembly room, the men were gathered round a long table. At the side was a second one, laden with bottles and glasses. On which some members of the company were already turning their eyes. McGinty sat at the head with a flat black velvet cap upon his shock of tangled black hair, and a colored purple stole round his neck, so that he seemed to be a priest presiding over some diabolical ritual. To right and left of him were the higher lodge officials, the cruel, handsome face of Ted Baldwin among them. Each of these wore some scarf or medallion as emblem of his office. They were for the most part men of mature age, but the rest of the company consisted of young fellows from eighteen to twenty-five, the ready and capable agents who carried out the commands of their seniors. Among the older men were many whose features showed the tigerish, lawless souls within, but looking at the rank and style it was difficult to believe that these eager and open-faced young fellows were in very truth a dangerous gang of murderers, whose minds had suffered such complete moral perversion that they took a horrible pride in their proficiency at their business, and looked with deepest respect at the man who had the reputation of making what they called a clean job. To their contorted natures it had become a spirited and chivalrous thing to volunteer for service against some man who had never injured them, and whom in many cases they had never seen in their lives. The crime committed they quarreled as to who had actually struck the fatal blow, and amused one another and the company but describing the cries and contortions of the murdered man. At first they had shown some secrecy in their arrangements, but at the time which this narrative describes their proceedings were extraordinarily open, for the repeated failure of the law had proved to them that, on the one hand, no one would dare to witness against them, and on the other they had an unlimited number of stanched witnesses upon whom they could call, and a well-filled treasure chest from which they could draw the funds to engage the best legal talent in the state. In ten long years of outrage there had been no single conviction, and the only danger that ever threatened the scourers lay in the victim himself, who, however outnumbered and taken by surprise, might, and occasionally did, leave his mark upon his assailants. McMurdo had been warned that some more deal lay before him, but no one would tell him in what it consisted. He was led now into an outer room by two solemn brothers. Through the plank partition he could hear the murmur of many voices from the assembly within. Once or twice he caught the sound of his own name, and he knew that they were discussing his candidacy. Then there entered an inner guard with a green and gold sash across his chest. The bodymaster orders that he shall be trust, blinded, and entered, said he. The three of them removed his coat, turned up the sleeve of his right arm, and finally passed a rope round above the elbows and made it fast. They next placed a thick black cap right over his head, and the upper part of his face, so that he could see nothing. He was then led into the assembly hall. It was pitch dark and very oppressive under his hood. He heard the rustle and murmur of the people round him. And then the voice of McGinty sounded dull and distant through the covering of his ears. John McMurdo, said the voice, are you already a member of the ancient order of Freeman? He bowed in a sense. Is your lodge number 29 Chicago? He bowed again. Dark nights are unpleasant, said the voice. Yes, for strangers to travel, he answered. The clouds are heavy. Yes, a storm is approaching. Are the brethren satisfied? asked the bodymaster. There was a general murmur of assent. We know, brother, by your sign and by your counter-sign, that you are indeed one of us, said McGinty. We would have you know, however, that in this county and in other counties of these parts we have certain rights and also certain duties of our own which call for good men. Are you ready to be tested? I am. Are you of stout heart? I am. Take a stride forward to prove it. As the words were said, he felt two hard points in front of his eyes, pressing upon them so that it appeared as if he could not move forward without a danger of losing them. Nonetheless, he nerved himself to step resolutely out, and as he did so the pressure melted away. There was a low murmur of applause. He is of stout heart, said the voice. Can you bear pain? As well as another, he answered. Test him. It was all he could do to keep himself from screaming out for an agonizing pain shot through his forearm. He nearly fainted at the sudden shock of it, but he bit his lip and clenched his hands to hide his agony. I can take more than that, said he. This time there was loud applause. A finer first appearance had never been made in the lodge. Hands clapped him on the back, and the hood was plucked from his head. He stood blinking and smiling amid the congratulations of the brothers. One last word, Brother McMurdo, said McGinty. You have already sworn the oath of secrecy and fidelity, and you are aware that the punishment for any breach of it is instant and inevitable death? I am, said McMurdo. And do you accept the rules of the bodymaster for the time being under all circumstances? I do. Then in the name of Lodge 341 Vermissa I welcome you to its privileges and debates. He will put the liquor on the table, Brother Scanlon, and we will drink to our worthy brother. McMurdo's coat had been brought to him, but before putting it on he examined his right arm, which still smarted heavily. There, on the flesh of his forearm, was a circle with a triangle within it, deep and red, as the branding iron had left it. One or two of his neighbors pulled up their sleeves and showed their own lodge marks. We've all had it, said one, but not all as brave as you over it. Tud, it was nothing, said he, but it burned and ached all the same. When the drinks which followed the ceremony of initiation had all been disposed of, the business of the lodge proceeded. McMurdo, accustomed only to the prosaic performances of Chicago, listened with open ears and more surprised than he ventured to show to what followed. The first business on the agenda paper, said McGinty, is to read the following letter from Division Master Wendell of Merton County Lodge, 249. He says, Dear Sir, There is a job to be done on Andrew Ray, of Ray and Sturmish, coal owners near this place. You will remember that your lodge owes us a return, having had the service of two brethren in the matter of the patrolmen last fall. You will send two good men, they will be taken charge of by Treasurer Higgins of this Lodge, whose address you know. He will show them when to act and where. Yours and Freedom. J.W. Wendell, D.M.A.O.F. Wendell has never refused us, when we have had occasion to ask for the loan of a manor to, and it is not for us to refuse him. McGinty paused and looked round the room with his dull, maloviant eyes. Who will volunteer for the job? Several young men held up their hands. The Body Master looked at them with an approving smile. You'll do, Tiger Cormac. If you handle it as well as you did the last, you won't be wrong. And you, Wilson. I've no pistol," said the volunteer, a mere boy in his teens. It's your first, is it not? Well, you have to be blooded some time. It will be a great start for you. As to the pistol, you'll find it waiting for you, or I'm mistaken. If you report yourselves on Monday, it will be time enough. You'll get a great welcome when you return. Any reward this time? Ask Cormac, a thick-set, dark-faced, brutal-looking young man, whose ferocity had earned him the nickname of Tiger. Never mind the reward. You just do it for the honour of the thing. Maybe when it is done there will be a few odd dollars at the bottom of the box. What has the man done? Ask young Wilson. Sure it's not for the likes of you to ask what the man has done. He has been judged over there. That's no business of ours. All we have to do is to carry it out for them, same as they would for us. Speaking of that, it's time for you to go to the speaking of that, two brothers from the Merton Lodge are coming over to us next week to do some business in this quarter. Who are they? asked someone. Faith it is wiser not to ask. If you know nothing you can testify nothing, and no trouble can come of it, but they are men who will make a clean job when they are about it. And time, too! cried Ted Baldwin. Folks are getting out of hand in these parts. It was only last week that three of our men were turned off by Foreman Blaker. It's been owing him a long time, and he'll get it full and proper. Get what? McMurter whispered to his neighbour. The business end of a buckshot cartridge! cried the man with a loud laugh. What think you of our ways, brother? McMurter's criminal soul seemed to have already absorbed the spirit of the vile association of which he was now a member. I like it well, said he. It is a proper place for a lad of metal. Several of those who sat around heard his words and applauded them. What's that? cried the black-maned bodymaster from the end of the table. It is our new brother, sir, who finds our ways to his taste. McMurter rose to his feet for an instant. I would say, eminent bodymaster, that if a man should be wanted, I should take it as an honour to be chosen to help the lodge. There was great applause at this. It was found that a new son was pushing its rim above the horizon. To some of the elders it seemed that the progress was a little too rapid. I would move, said the secretary Harroway, a vulture-faced old greybeard who sat near the chairman. That brother McMurter should wait until it is the good pleasure of the lodge to employ him. Sure, that was what I meant. I'm in your hands, said McMurter. Your time will come, brother, said the chairman. We have marked you down as a willing man, and we believe that you will do good work in these parts. There is a small matter tonight in which you may take a hand if it so please you. I will wait for something that is worthwhile. You can come to-night anyhow, and it will help you to know what we stand for in this community. I will make the announcement later. Meanwhile, he glanced at his agenda paper. I have one or two more points to bring before the meeting. First of all, I will ask the treasurer as to our bank balance. There is the pension to Jim Carnaway's widow. He was struck down doing the work of the lodge, and it's for us to see that she is not the loser. Jim was shot last month when they tried to kill Chester Wilcox of Marley Creek. McMurter's neighbor informed him. The funds are good at the moment, said the treasurer, with the bank book in front of him. The firms have been generous of late. Max Linder and Co. paid five hundred to be left alone. Walker Brothers sent in a hundred, but I took it on myself to return it and ask for five. If I do not hear by Wednesday, their winding gear may be out of order. We had to burn their breaker last year before they became reasonable. Then the West Section Colling Company has paid its annual contribution. We have enough on hand to meet any obligations. What about Archie Swindon? Asked a brother. He is sold out and left the district. The old devil left a note for us to say that he had rather be a free-crossing sweeper in New York than a large mine-owner under the power of a ring of blackmailers. By Gar it was as well that he made a break for it before the note reached us. I guess he won't show his face in this valley again. An elderly, clean-shaved man with a kindly face and a good brow rose from the end of the table, which faced the chairman. Mr. Treasurer, he asked, May I ask, who has bought the property of this man that we have driven out of the district? Yes, Brother Morris. It has been bought by the State and Merton County Railroad Company. And who bought the mines of Todman and of Lee that came into the market in the same way last year? The same company, Brother Morris. And who bought the ironworks of Mason and of Schumann and of Van Derr and of Atwood, which have all been given up of late. They were all bought by the West Gilmourton General Mining Company. I don't see, Brother Morris, said the chairman, that it matters to us who buys them, since they can't carry them out of the district. With all respect to you, eminent body-master, I think it may matter very much to us. This process has been going on now for ten long years. We are gradually driving all the small men out of trade. What is the result? We find in their places great companies like the Railroad or the General Iron, who have their directors in New York or Philadelphia, and care nothing for our threats. We can take it out of their local bosses, but it only means that others will be sent in their stead. And we are making it dangerous for ourselves. The small men could not harm us. They had not the money nor the power. So long as we did not squeeze them too dry, they would stay on under our power. But if these big companies find that we stand between them and their profits, they will spare no pains and no expense to hunt us down and bring us to court. There was a hush at these ominous words, and every face darkened as gloomy looks were exchanged. So omnipotent and unchallenged had they been, let the very thought that there was possible retribution in the background had been banished from their minds, and yet the idea struck a chill to the most reckless of them. This is my advice, the speaker continued. That we go easier upon the small men. On the day that they have all been driven out, the power of this society will have been broken. Unwelcome truths are not popular. There were angry cries as the speaker resumed his seat. McGinty rose with gloom upon his brow. Brother Morris, said he, you were always a croaker. So long as the members of this lodge stand together, there is no power in the United States that can touch them. Sure, have we not tried it often enough in the law courts? I expect the big companies will find it easier to pay than to fight, same as the little companies do. And now, brethren, McGinty took off his black velvet cap and his stole as he spoke. This lodge has finished its business for the evening, save for one small matter which may be mentioned while we are parting. The time has now come for fraternal refreshment and for harmony. Strange indeed is human nature. Here were these men, to whom murder was familiar, who again and again had struck down the father of the family. Some man against whom they had no personal feeling, without one thought of compunction or of compassion for his weeping wife or helpless children, and yet the tender or pathetic in music could move them to tears. McMurdo had a fine tenor voice, and if he had failed to gain the good will of the lodge before, it could no longer have been withheld after he had thrilled them with, I am sitting on the Stylemary and on the banks of Allen Water. In his very first night the new recruit had made himself one of the most popular of the brethren, marked already for advancements and high office. There were other qualities needed, however, besides those of good fellowship, to make a worthy freeman, and of those he was given an example before the evening was over. The whiskey bottle had passed round many times, and the men were flushed and ripe for mischief, when their body master rose once more to address them. Boys, said he, there's one man in this town that once trimming up, and it's for you to see that he gets it. I'm speaking of James Stanger, of the Herald. You've seen how he's been opening his mouth against us, again. There was a murmur of assent, with many a muttered oath. McGinty took a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket. Law and order. That's how he heads it. Rain of terror in the Coal and Iron District. Twelve years have now elapsed since the first assassinations, which proved the existence of a criminal organization in our midst. From that day these outrages have never ceased, until now they have reached a pitch which makes us the opprobrium of the civilized worlds. Is it for such results as this, that our great country welcomes to its bosom, the alien who flies from the despotisms of Europe? Is it that they shall themselves become tyrants, over the very men who have given them shelter, and that a state of terrorism and lawlessness should be established under the very shadow of the sacred folds of the starry flag of freedom, which would raise horror in our minds if we read of it as existing under the most effete monarchy of the East? The men are known. The organization is patent and public. How long are we to endure it? Can we forever live? Sure, I've read enough of the slush, cried the chairman, tossing the paper down upon the table. That's what he says of us. The question I'm asking you is what shall we say to him? Kill him! cried a dozen fierce voices. I protest against that, said Brother Morris. The man of the good brow and shaved face. I tell you, brethren, that our hand is too heavy in this valley, and that there will come a point wherein, self-defense, every man will unite to crush us out. James Stanger is an old man. He is respected in the township and the district. His paper stands for all that is solid in the valley. If that man is struck down, there will be a stir through this state that will only end with our destruction. And how would they bring about our destruction, Mr. Standback? cried McGinty. Is it by the police? Sure, half of them are in our pay and half of them afraid of us. Or is it by the law courts and the judge? Haven't we tried that before now? And whatever came of it? There is a judge Lynch that might try the case, said Brother Morris. A general shout of anger greeted the suggestion. I have but to raise my finger, cried McGinty, and I could put 200 men into this town that would clear it out from end to end. Then suddenly, raising his voice and bending his huge black brows into a terrible frown, see here, Brother Morris, I have my eye on you and have had for some time. You've no heart yourself, and you try to take the heart out of others. It will be an ill day for you, Brother Morris, when your own name comes on our agenda paper, and I'm thinking that it's just there that I ought to place it. Morris had turned deadly pale, and his knees seemed to give way under him as he fell back into his chair. He raised his glass in his trembling hand and drank before he could answer. I apologize, eminent bodymaster, to you and to every brother in this lodge if I have said more than I should. I am a faithful member, you all know that, and it is my fearless evil come to the lodge which makes me speak in anxious words, but I have greater trust in your judgment than in my own, eminent bodymaster, and I promise you that I will not offend again. The bodymaster's scow relaxed as he listened to the humble words. Very good, Brother Morris. It's myself that would be sorry if it were needful to give you a lesson. But so long as I am in this chair we shall be a united lodge in word and in deed. And now, boys, he continued, looking round to the company. I'll say this much, that if Stanger got his full desserts, there would be more trouble than we need to ask for. These editors hang together, and every journal in the state would be crying out for police and troops. But I guess you can give him a pretty severe warning. Will you fix it, Brother Baldwin? Sure. Said the young man eagerly. How many will you take? Half a dozen, and two to guard the door. You'll come Gower, a new Mansel, a new Scanlan, and the two Willoughbys. I promise the new brother he should go, to the chairman. Ted Baldwin looked at McMurda with eyes which showed that he had not forgotten or forgiven. Well, he can come if he wants, he said in a surly voice. That's enough. The sooner we get to work, the better. The company broke up with shouts and yells and snatches of drunken song. The bar was still crowded with revelers, and many of the brethren remained there. The little band who had been told off for duty passed out into the street, proceeding in twos and threes along the sidewalk, so as not to provoke attention. It was a bitterly cold night, with a half moon shining brilliantly in a frosty, star-spangled sky. The men stopped and gathered in a yard which faced a high building. The words, vermissa hotel, were printed in gold lettering between the brightly lit windows. From within came the clanking of the printing press. Here you, said Baldwin to McMurdo. You stand below at the door and see that the road is kept open for us. Arthur Willoughby can stay with you. You others come with me. Have no fears, boys, for we have a dozen witnesses that we are in the Union Bar at this very moment. It was nearly midnight, and the street was deserted, save for one or two revelers upon their way home. The party crossed the road, and, pushing open the door of the newspaper office, Baldwin and his men rushed in and up the stair which faced them. McMurdo and another remained below. From the room above came a shout, a cry for help, and then the sound of trampling feet and falling chairs. An instant later a grey-haired man rushed out on the landing. He was seized before he could get farther, and his spectacles came tinkling down to McMurdo's feet. There was a thud and a groan. He was on his face, and half a dozen sticks were clattering together as they fell upon him. He writhed, and his long thin limbs quivered under the blows. The other ceased at last, but Baldwin, his cruel face set in an infernal smile, was hacking at the man's head, which he vainly endeavored to defend with his arms. His white hair was dabbled with patches of blood. Baldwin was still stooping over his victim, putting in a short, vicious blow whenever he could see a part exposed, when McMurdo dashed up the stair and pushed him back. You'll kill the man, said he, and drop it. Baldwin looked at him in amazement. Curse you! he cried. Who were you to interfere? You that are new to the lodge. Stand back! he raised a stick. But McMurdo had whooped his pistol out of his pocket. Stand back yourself! he cried. I'll blow your face in if you lay a hand on me. As to the lodge, wasn't it the order of the bodymaster that the man was not to be killed? And what are you doing but killing him? It's the truth, he says, remarked one of the men. By God you'd best hurry yourselves, cried the man below. The windows are all lighting up, and you'll have the whole town here inside of five minutes. There was indeed the sound of shouting in the street, and a little group of compositors and pressmen was forming in the hall below and nerving itself to action. Leaving the limp and motionless body of the editor at the head of the stair, the criminals rushed down and made their way swiftly along the street. Having reached the union-house, some of them mixed with the crowd in McGinty's saloon, whispering across the bar to the boss that the job had been well carried through. Others, and among them McMurdo, broke away into side streets, and so by devious paths to their own homes. End of Chapter 3. Recording by Katie Riley. January, 2010. Part 2, Chapter 4 of The Valley of Fear. This liprivox recording is in the public domain. The Valley of Fear by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Chapter 4. The Valley of Fear. When McMurdo awoke next morning, he had good reason to remember his initiation into the lodge. His head ached with the effect of the drink, and his arm, where he had been branded, was hot and swollen. Having his own peculiar source of income, he was irregular in his attendance at his work, so he had a late breakfast and remained at home for the morning, writing a long letter to a friend. Afterwards he read the Daily Herald. In a special column put in at the last moment, he read, Outrage at the Herald's office. Editor seriously injured. It was a short account of the facts with which he was himself more familiar than the writer could have been. It ended with the statement. The matter is now in the hands of the police, but it can hardly be hoped that their exertions will be attended by any better results than in the past. Some of the men were recognized, and there is hope that a conviction may be obtained. The source of the Outrage was, it need hardly be said, that infamous society, which has held this community in bondage for so long a period, and against which the Herald has taken so uncompromising a stand. Mr. Stengers, many friends will rejoice to hear that, though he has been cruelly and brutally beaten, and though he has sustained severe injuries about the head, there is no immediate danger to his life. Below it stated that a guard of police, armed with Winchester rifles, had been requisitioned for the defense of the office. McMurdo had laid down the paper, and was lighting his pipe with the hand which was shaky from the excesses of the previous evening, when there was a knock outside, and his landlady brought to him a note which had just been handed in by a lad. It was unsigned and ran thus. I should wish to speak to you, but would rather not do so in your house. You will find me beside the flagstaff upon Miller Hill. If you will come there now, I have something which it is important for you to hear, and for me to say. McMurdo read the note twice with the utmost surprise, for he could not imagine what it meant or who was the author of it. Had it been in a feminine hand he might have imagined that it was the beginning of one of those adventures which had been familiar enough in his past life, but it was the writing of a man, and of a well educated one, too. Finally, after some hesitation, he determined to see the matter through. Miller Hill is an ill-kept public park in the very center of the town. In summer it is a favorite resort of the people, but in winter it is desolate enough. From the top of it one has a view not only of the whole straggling grimy town, but of the winding valley beneath, with its scattered mines and factories blackening the snow on each side of it, and of the wooded and white-capped ranges flanking it. McMurdo strolled up the winding path hedged in with evergreens until he reached the deserted restaurants which forms the center of summer gaiety. Beside it was a bare flagstaff, and underneath it a man, his hat, drawn down in the collar of his overcoat, turned up. When he turned his face McMurdo saw that it was Brother Morris, he who had incurred the anger of the bodymaster the night before. The large sign was given and exchanged as they met. I wanted to have a word with you, Mr. McMurdo, said the older man, speaking with a hesitation which showed that he was on delicate ground. It was kind of you to come. Why did you not put your name to the note? One has to be cautious, Mr. One never knows in times like these how a thing may come back to one. One never knows either who to trust or not to trust. Surely one may trust Brothers of the Lodge. No, no, not always, cried Morris with vehemence. Whatever we say, even what we think, seems to go back to that man McGinty. Look here, said McMurdo sternly. It was only last night, as you know well, that I saw a good faith to our bodymaster. Would you be asking me to break my oath? If that is the view you take, said Morris sadly, I can only say that I am sorry I gave you the trouble to come and meet me. Things have come to a bad pass when two free citizens cannot speak their thoughts to each other. McMurdo, who had been watching his companion very narrowly, relaxed somewhat in his bearing. Sure, I spoke for myself only, said he. I am a newcomer, as you know, and I am strange to it all. It is not for me to open my mouth, Mr. Morris, and if you think well to say anything to me, I am here to hear it. And to take it back to Boss McGinty, said Morris bitterly. Indeed, then you do me injustice there, cried McMurdo. For myself I am loyal to the Lodge, and so I tell you straight, but I would be a poor creature if I were to repeat to any other what you might say to me in confidence. It will go no further than me, though I warn you that you may get neither help nor sympathy. I have given up looking for either the one or the other, said Morris. I may be putting my varied life in your hands by what I say, but bad as you are, and it seemed to me last night that you were shaping to be as bad as the worst, still you are new to it, and your conscience cannot yet be as hardened as theirs. That was why I thought to speak with you. Well, what have you to say? If you give me away, may a curse be on you. Sure, I said I would not. I would ask you, then, when you joined the Freeman Society in Chicago, and swore vows of charity and fidelity, did ever it cross your minds that you might find it would lead you to crime? If you call it crime, McMurdo answered. Call it crime? cried Morris, his voice vibrating with passion. You have seen little of it if you can call it anything else. Was it crime last night when a man old enough to be your father was beaten till the blood dripped from his white hairs? Was that crime, or what else would you call it? There are some would say it was war, said McMurdo, a war of two classes with all in, so that each struck as best it could. Well, did you think of such a thing when you joined the Freeman Society at Chicago? No, I am bound to say I did not. Nor did I when I joined it at Philadelphia. It was just a benefit club and a meeting place for one's fellows. Then I heard of this place, cursed the hour that the name first fell upon my ears, and I came to better myself, my God to better myself. My wife and three children came with me. I started a dry-good store on Market Square, and I prospered well. The word had gone round so that I was a Freeman, and I was forced to join the local lodge, same as you did last night. I have the badge of shame on my forearm, and something worse branded on my heart. I found that I was under the orders of a black villain, and caught in a mesh work of crime. What could I do? Every word I said to make things better was taken as treason, same as it was last night. I can't get away, for all I have in the world is in my store. If I leave the society, I know well that it means murder to me, and God knows what to my wife and children. Oh, man, it is awful, awful! He put his hands to his face, and his body shook with convulsive sobs. McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. You were too soft for the job, said he. You are the wrong sort for such work. I had a conscience and a religion, but they made me a criminal among them. I was chosen for a job. If I back down, I knew well what would come to me. Maybe I'm a coward. Maybe it's the thought of my poor little woman and the children that makes me one. Anyhow, I went. I guess it will haunt me forever. It was a lonely house, twenty miles from here, over the range yonder. I was told off for the door, same as you were last night. They could not trust me with the job. The others went in. When they came out, their hands were crimson to the wrists. As we turned away, a child was screaming out of the house behind us. It was a boy of five who had seen his father murdered. I nearly fainted with the horror of it, and yet I had to keep a bold and smiling face, for well I knew that if I did not, it would be out of my house that they would come next with their bloody hands, and it would be my little Fred that would be screaming for his father. But I was a criminal then, part-sharer in a murder, lost forever in this world, and also in the next. I am a good Catholic, but the priest would have no word with me when he heard I was a scaler, and I am excommunicated from my faith. That's how it stands with me, and I see you going down the same road, and I ask you what the end is to be. Are you ready to be a cold-blooded murderer also, or can we do anything to stop it? What would you do? asked McMurdo abruptly. You would not inform. God forbid! cried Morris. Sure, the very thought would cost me my life. That's well, said McMurdo. I'm thinking that you are a weak man, and that you make too much of the matter. Too much? Wait till you have lived here longer. Look down the valley. See the cloud of a hundred chimneys that overshadows it. I tell you that the cloud of murder hangs thicker and lower than that over the heads of the people. It is the valley of fear, the valley of death. The terror is in the hearts of the people, from the dusk to the dawn. Wait young man, and you will learn for yourself. Well, I'll let you know what I think when I have seen more. Said McMurdo carelessly. What is very clear is that you are not the man for the place, and that the sooner you sell out, if you only get a dime a dollar for what the business is worth, the better it will be for you. What you have said is safe with me, but by gar, if I thought you were an informer. No, no, cried Morris piteously. Well, let it rest at that. I'll bear what you have said in mind, and maybe some day I'll come back to it. I expect you meant kindly by speaking to me like this. Now I'll be getting home. One word before you go, said Morris. We may have been seen together. They may want to know what we have spoken about. Ah, that's well thought of. I offer you a clerkship in my store. And I refuse it. That's our business. Well, so long, brother Morris, and may you find things go better with you in the future. That same afternoon, as McMurdo sat smoking, lost in thought beside the stove of a sitting-room, the door swung open, and its framework was filled with a huge figure of boss McGinty. He passed the sign, and then, seating himself opposite to the young man, he looked at him steadily for some time, a look which was as steadily returned. I'm not much of a visitor, brother McMurdo, he said at last. He said at last. I guess I am too busy over the folk that visit me. But I thought I'd stretch a point and drop down to see you in your own house. I'm proud to see you here, counselor, said McMurdo heartily, bringing his whiskey bottle out of the cupboard. It's an honour that I had not expected. How's the arm? asked the boss. McMurdo made a rye face. Well, I'm not forgetting it, he said, but it's worth it. Yes, it's worth it, the other answered. To those that are loyal and go through with it and are helped to lodge. What were you speaking to brother Morris about on Miller Hill this morning? The question came so suddenly that it was well that he had his answer prepared. He burst into a hearty laugh. Morris didn't know I could earn a living here at home. He shan't know, either, for he has got too much conscience for the likes of me. But he's a good-hearted old chap. It was his idea that I was at a loose end, and that he would do me a good turn by offering me a clerkship in a dry-good store. Oh, that was it. Yes, that was it. And you refused it. Sure. Couldn't I earn ten times as much in my own bedroom with four hours' work? That's so, but I wouldn't get about too much with Morris. Why not? Well, I guess because I tell you not. That's enough for most folk in these parts. It may be enough for most folk, but it ain't enough for me, counselor, said McMurdo Boldly. If you are a judge of men, you'll know that. The swarthy giant glared at him, and as Harry Paul closed for an instant round the glasses though he would hurl it at the head of his companion. Then he laughed in his loud, boisterous, insincere fashion. You're a queer card for sure, said he. Well, if you want reasons, I'll give them. Did Morris say nothing to you against the lodge? No. Nor against me? No. Well, that's because he dare not trust you. But in his heart he is not a loyal brother. We know that well. So we watch him and we wait for the time to admonish him. I'm thinking that the time is drawing near. There's no room for scabby sheep in our pen, but if you keep company with a disloyal man, we might think that you are disloyal too, see? There's no chance of my keeping company with him, for I dislike the man. McMurdo answered. As to being disloyal, if it was any man but you, he would not use the word to me twice. Well, that's enough, said McGinty, draining off his glass. I came down to give you a word in season, and you've had it. I'd like to know, said McMurdo, how you ever came to learn that I had spoken with Morris at all? McGinty laughed. It's my business to know what goes on in this township, said he. I guess you'd best reckon on my hearing all that passes. Well, time's up, and I'll just say. But his leave-taking was cut short in a very unexpected fashion. With a sudden crash the door flew open, and three frowning intent faces glared in at them from under the peaks of police caps. McMurdo sprang to his feet, and half drew his revolver. But his arm stomped midway as he became conscious that two Winchester rifles were leveled at his head. A man in uniform advanced into the room, a six-shooter in his hand. It was Captain Marvin, once of Chicago, and now of the mine constipulary. He shook his head with a half-smile at McMurdo. I thought you'd be getting into trouble, Mr. Crooked McMurdo of Chicago, said he. Can't keep out of it, can you? Take your hat and come along with us. I guess you'll pay for this, Captain Marvin, said McGinty. Who are you, I'd like to know, to break into a house in this fashion in the less honest, law-abiding men? You're standing out in this deal, Counselor McGinty, said the police, Captain. We are not out after you, but after this man McMurdo. It is for you to help, not to hinder us in our duty. He is a friend of mine, and I'll answer for his conduct, said the boss. By all accounts, Mr. McGinty, you may have to answer for your own conduct some of these days, the Captain answered. This man McMurdo was a crook before ever he came here, and he's a crook still. Cover him, patrolman, while I disarm him. There's my pistol, said McMurdo, cruelly. Maybe, Captain Marvin, if you and I were alone and face-to-face, you would not take me so easily. Where's your warrant? asked McGinty. By gar a man might as well live in Russia as in Vermissa, while folk like you are running the police. It's a capitalist outrage, and you'll hear more of it, I reckon. You do what you think is your duty, the best way you can, counselor. We'll look after ours. What am I accused of? asked McMurdo. Of being concerned in the beating of old editor Stanger at the Herald Office, it wasn't your fault that it isn't a murder charge. Well, if that's all you have against him, cried McGinty with a laugh, you can save yourself a deal of trouble by dropping it right now. This man was with me in my saloon playing poker up to midnight, and I can bring a dozen people to prove it. That's your affair, and I guess you can settle it in court tomorrow. Meanwhile, come on, McMurdo, and come quietly if you don't want a gun across your head. You stand wide, Mr. McGinty, for I warn you. I will stand no resistance when I am on duty. So determined was the appearance of the captain, that both McMurdo and his boss were forced to accept the situation. The latter managed to have a few whispered words with the prisoner before they parted. What about? he jerked his thumb upward to signify the corning plant. All right, whispered McMurdo, who had devised a safe hiding place under the floor. I'll bid you good-bye, said the boss, shaking hands. I'll see Riley the lawyer and take the defense upon myself. Take my word for it that they won't be able to hold you. I wouldn't bet on that, guard the prisoner you two, and shoot him if he tries any games. I'll search the house before I leave. He did so, but apparently found no trace of the concealed plant. When he had descended, he and his men escorted McMurdo to headquarters. Darkness had fallen, and a keen blizzard was blowing, so that the streets were nearly deserted, but a few loiterers followed the group and emboldened by invisibility shouted imprecations at the prisoner. Lynch the cursed scourer, they cried. Lynch him. They laughed and jeered as he was pushed into the police station. After a short formal examination from the inspector in charge, he was put into the common cell. Here he found Baldwin and three other criminals of the night before. All arrested that afternoon and waiting their trial next morning. But even within this inner fortress of the law, the long arm of the Freeman was able to extend. Late at night there came a jailer with a straw bundle for their bedding, out of which he extracted two bottles of whiskey, some glasses, and a pack of cards. They spent a hilarious night, without an anxious thought, as to the ordeal of the morning. Nor had they cause, as the result was to show. The magistrate could not possibly on the evidence have held them for a higher court. On the one hand the compositors and pressmen were forced to admit that the light was uncertain, and that they were themselves much perturbed, and that it was difficult for them to swear to the identity of the assailants, although they believed that the accused were among them. Cross-examined by the clever attorney who had been engaged by McGinty, they were even more nebulous in their evidence. The injured man had already deposed that he was so taken by surprise, by the suddenness of the attack, that he could state nothing beyond the fact that the first man who struck him were a moustache. He added that he knew them to be scourers, since no one else in the community could possibly have any enmity to him, and he had long been threatened on account of his outspoken editorials. On the other hand it was clearly shown by the united and unfaltering evidence of six citizens, including that high municipal officer, Councillor McGinty, that the men had been at a card-party at the union house, until an hour very much later than the commission of the outrage. Needless to say, that they were discharged with something very near to an apology from the bench for the inconvenience to which they had been put, together with an implied censure of Captain Marvin and the police for their officious zeal. The verdict was greeted with loud applause by a court in which McMurdo saw many familiar faces. Brothers of the lodge smiled and waved, but there were others who sent with compressed lips and brooding eyes as the men filed out of the dock. One of them, a little dark-bearded resolute fellow, put the thoughts of himself and comrades into words as the ex-prisoners passed him. You damned murderers, he said. We'll fix you yet. End of Chapter 4.