_ It was the height of the reign of terror. McMurdo, who had
already been appointed Inner Deacon, with every prospect of
some day succeeding McGinty as Bodymaster, was now so
necessary to the councils of his comrades that nothing was done
without his help and advice. The more popular he became,
however, with the Freemen, the blacker were the scowls which
greeted him as he passed along the streets of Vermissa. In spite
of their terror the citizens were taking heart to band themselves
together against their oppressors. Rumours had reached the lodge
of secret gatherings in the Herald office and of distribution of
firearms among the law-abiding people. But McGinty and his
men were undisturbed by such reports. They were numerous,
resolute, and well armed. Their opponents were scattered and
powerless. It would all end, as it had done in the past, in
aimless talk and possibly in impotent arrests. So said McGinty,
McMurdo, and all the bolder spirits.
It was a Saturday evening in May. Saturday was always the
lodge night, and McMurdo was leaving his house to attend it
when Morris, the weaker brother of the order, came to see him.
His brow was creased with care, and his kindly face was drawn
and haggard.
"Can I speak with you freely, Mr. McMurdo?"
"Sure."
"I can't forget that I spoke my heart to you once, and that you
kept it to yourself, even though the Boss himself came to ask
you about it."
"What else could I do if you trusted me? It wasn't that I
agreed with what you said."
"I know that well. But you are the one that I can speak to and
be safe. I've a secret here," he put his hand to his breast, "and
it is just burning the life out of me. I wish it had come to any one
of you but me. If I tell it, it will mean murder, for sure. If I
don't, it may bring the end of us all. God help me, but I am near
out of my wits over it!"
McMurdo looked at the man earnestly. He was trembling in
every limb. He poured some whisky into a glass and handed it to
him. "That's the physic for the likes of you," said he. "Now let
me hear of it."
Morris drank, and his white face took a tinge of colour. "I can
tell it to you all in one sentence," said he. "There's a detective
on our trail."
McMurdo stared at him in astonishment. "Why, man, you're
crazy," he said. "Isn't the place full of police and detectives
and what harm did they ever do us?"
"No, no, it's no man of the district. As you say, we know
them, and it is little that they can do. But you've heard of
Pinkerton's?"
"I've read of some folk of that name."
"Well, you can take it from me you've no show when they
are on your trail. It's not a take-it-or-miss-it government
concern. It's a dead earnest business proposition that's out for
results and keeps out till by hook or crook it gets them. If a
Pinkerton man is deep in this business, we are all destroyed."
"We must kill him."
"Ah, it's the first thought that came to you! So it will be up at
the lodge. Didn't I say to you that it would end in murder?"
"Sure, what is murder? Isn't it common enough in these
parts?"
"It is, indeed; but it's not for me to point out the man that is
to be murdered. I'd never rest easy again. And yet it's our own
necks that may be at stake. In God's name what shall I do?" He
rocked to and fro in his agony of indecision.
But his words had moved McMurdo deeply. It was easy to see
that he shared the other's opinion as to the danger, and the need
for meeting it. He gripped Morris's shoulder and shook him in
his earnestness.
"See here, man," he cried, and he almost screeched the
words in his excitement, "you won't gain anything by sitting
keening like an old wife at a wake. Let's have the facts. Who is
the fellow? Where is he? How did you hear of him? Why did
you come to me?"
"I came to you; for you are the one man that would advise me.
I told you that I had a store in the East before I came here. I left
good friends behind me, and one of them is in the telegraph
service. Here's a letter that I had from him yesterday. It's this
part from the top of the page. You can read it yourself."
This was what McMurdo read:
How are the Scowrers getting on in your parts? We read
plenty of them in the papers. Between you and me I expect
to hear news from you before long. Five big corporations
and the two railroads have taken the thing up in dead
earnest. They mean it, and you can bet they'll get there!
They are right deep down into it. Pinkerton has taken hold
under their orders, and his best man, Birdy Edwards, is
operating. The thing has got to be stopped right now.
"Now read the postscript."
Of course, what I give you is what I learned in business;
so it goes no further. It's a queer cipher that you handle by
the yard every day and can get no meaning from.
McMurdo sat in silence for some time, with the letter in his
listless hands. The mist had lifted for a moment, and there was
the abyss before him.
"Does anyone else know of this?" he asked.
"I have told no one else."
"But this man -- your friend -- has he any other person that he
would be likely to write to?"
"Well, I dare say he knows one or two more."
"Of the lodge?"
"It's likely enough."
"I was asking because it is likely that he may have given
some description of this fellow Birdy Edwards -- then we could
get on his trail."
"Well, it's possible. But I should not think he knew him. He
is just telling me the news that came to him by way of business.
How would he know this Pinkerton man?"
McMurdo gave a violent start.
"By Gar!" he cried, "I've got him. What a fool I was not to
know it. Lord! but we're in luck! We will fix him before he can
do any harm. See here, Morris, will you leave this thing in my
hands?"
"Sure, if you will only take it off mine."
"I'll do that. You can stand right back and let me run it. Even
your name need not be mentioned. I'll take it all on myself, as if
it were to me that this letter has come. Will that content you?"
"It's just what I would ask."
"Then leave it at that and keep your head shut. Now I'll get
down to the lodge, and we'll soon make old man Pinkerton sorry
for himself."
"You wouldn't kill this man?"
"The less you know, Friend Morris, the easier your conscience
will be, and the better you will sleep. Ask no questions, and
let these things settle themselves. I have hold of it now."
Morris shook his head sadly as he left. "I feel that his blood is
on my hands," he groaned.
"Self-protection is no murder, anyhow," said McMurdo, smiling
grimly. "It's him or us. I guess this man would destroy us all
if we left him long in the valley. Why, Brother Morris, we'll
have to elect you Bodymaster yet; for you've surely saved the
lodge."
And yet it was clear from his actions that he thought more
seriously of this new intrusion than his words would show. It
may have been his guilty conscience, it may have been the
reputation of the Pinkerton organization, it may have been the
knowledge that great, rich corporations had set themselves the
task of clearing out the Scowrers; but, whatever his reason, his
actions were those of a man who is preparing for the worst.
Every paper which would incriminate him was destroyed before
he left the house. After that he gave a long sigh of satisfaction;
for it seemed to him that he was safe. And yet the danger must
still have pressed somewhat upon him; for on his way to the
lodge he stopped at old man Shafter's. The house was forbidden
him; but when he tapped at the window Ettie came out to him.
The dancing Irish deviltry had gone from her lover's eyes. She
read his danger in his earnest face.
"Something has happened!" she cried. "Oh, Jack, you are in
danger!"
"Sure, it is not very bad, my sweetheart. And yet it may be
wise that we make a move before it is worse."
"Make a move?"
"I promised you once that I would go some day. I think the
time is coming. I had news to-night, bad news, and I see trouble
coming."
"The police?"
"Well, a Pinkerton. But, sure, you wouldn't know what that
is, acushla, nor what it may mean to the likes of me. I'm too
deep in this thing, and I may have to get out of it quick. You
said you would come with me if I went."
"Oh, Jack, it would be the saving of you!"
"I'm an honest man in some things, Ettie. I wouldn't hurt a
hair of your bonny head for all that the world can give, nor ever
pull you down one inch from the golden throne above the clouds
where I always see you. Would you trust me?"
She put her hand in his without a word. "Well, then, listen to
what I say, and do as I order you, for indeed it's the only way
for us. Things are going to happen in this valley. I feel it in my
bones. There may be many of us that will have to look out for
ourselves. I'm one, anyhow. If I go, by day or night, it's you
that must come with me!"
"I'd come after you, Jack."
"No, no, you shall come with me. If this valley is closed to
me and I can never come back, how can I leave you behind, and
me perhaps in hiding from the police with never a chance of a
message? It's with me you must come. I know a good woman in
the place I come from, and it's there I'd leave you till we can get
married. Will you come?"
"Yes, Jack, I will come."
"God bless you for your trust in me! It's a fiend out of hell
that I should be if I abused it. Now, mark you, Ettie, it will be
just a word to you, and when it reaches you, you will drop
everything and come right down to the waiting room at the depot
and stay there till I come for you."
"Day or night, I'll come at the word, Jack."
Somewhat eased in mind, now that his own preparations for
escape had been begun, McMurdo went on to the lodge. It had
already assembled, and only by complicated signs and counter-
signs could he pass through the outer guard and inner guard who
close-tiled it. A buzz of pleasure and welcome greeted him as he
entered. The long room was crowded, and through the haze of
tobacco smoke he saw the tangled black mane of the Bodymaster,
the cruel, unfriendly features of Baldwin, the vulture face of
Harraway, the secretary, and a dozen more who were among the
leaders of the lodge. He rejoiced that they should all be there to
take counsel over his news.
"Indeed, it's glad we are to see you, Brother!" cried the
chairman. "There's business here that wants a Solomon in judgment
to set it right."
"It's Lander and Egan," explained his neighbour as he took
his seat. "They both claim the head money given by the lodge
for the shooting of old man Crabbe over at Stylestown, and
who's to say which fired the bullet?"
McMurdo rose in his place and raised his hand. The expression
of his face froze the attention of the audience. There was a
dead hush of expectation.
"Eminent Bodymaster," he said, in a solemn voice, "I claim
urgency!"
"Brother McMurdo claims urgency," said McGinty. "It's a
claim that by the rules of this lodge takes precedence. Now
Brother, we attend you."
McMurdo took the letter from his pocket.
"Eminent Bodymaster and Brethren," he said, "I am the
bearer of ill news this day; but it is better that it should be known
and discussed, than that a blow should fall upon us without
warning which would destroy us all. I have information that the
most powerful and richest organizations in this state have bound
themselves together for our destruction, and that at this very
moment there is a Pinkerton detective, one Birdy Edwards, at
work in the valley collecting the evidence which may put a rope
round the necks of many of us, and send every man in this room
into a felon's cell. That is the situation for the discussion of
which I have made a claim of urgency."
There was a dead silence in the room. It was broken by the
chairman.
"What is your evidence for this, Brother McMurdo?" he
asked.
"It is in this letter which has come into my hands," said
McMurdo. Me read the passage aloud. "It is a matter of honour
with me that I can give no further particulars about the letter, nor
put it into your hands; but I assure you that there is nothing else
in it which can affect the interests of the lodge. I put the case
before you as it has reached me."
"Let me say, Mr. Chairman," said one of the older brethren,
"that I have heard of Birdy Edwards, and that he has the name
of being the best man in the Pinkerton service."
"Does anyone know him by sight?" asked McGinty.
"Yes," said McMurdo, "I do."
There was a murmur of astonishment through the hall.
"I believe we hold him in the hollow of our hands," he
continued with an exulting smile upon his face. "If we act
quickly and wisely, we can cut this thing short. If I have your
confidence and your help, it is little that we have to fear."
"What have we to fear, anyhow? What can he know of our
affairs?"
"You might say so if all were as stanch as you, Councillor.
But this man has all the millions of the capitalists at his back. Do
you think there is no weaker brother among all our lodges that
could not be bought? He will get at our secrets -- maybe has got
them already. There's only one sure cure."
"That he never leaves the valley," said Baldwin.
McMurdo nodded. "Good for you, Brother Baldwin," he
said. "You and I have had our differences, but you have said the
true word to-night."
"Where is he, then? Where shall we know him?"
"Eminent Bodymaster," said McMurdo, earnestly, "I would
put it to you that this is too vital a thing for us to discuss in open
lodge. God forbid that I should throw a doubt on anyone here;
but if so much as a word of gossip got to the ears of this man,
there would be an end of any chance of our getting him. I would
ask the lodge to choose a trusty committee, Mr. Chairman --
yourself, if I might suggest it, and Brother Baldwin here, and
five more. Then I can talk freely of what I know and of what I
advise should be done."
The proposition was at once adopted, and the committee
chosen. Besides the chairman and Baldwin there were the vulture-
faced secretary, Harraway, Tiger Cormac, the brutal young
assassin, Carter, the treasurer, and the brothers Willaby,
fearless and desperate men who would stick at nothing.
The usual revelry of the lodge was short and subdued: for
there was a cloud upon the men's spirits, and many there for the
first time began to see the cloud of avenging Law drifting up in
that serene sky under which they had dwelt so long. The horrors
they had dealt out to others had been so much a part of their
settled lives that the thought of retribution had become a remote
one, and so seemed the more startling now that it came so
closely upon them. They broke up early and left their leaders to
their council.
"Now, McMurdo!" said McGinty when they were alone. The
seven men sat frozen in their seats.
"I said just now that I knew Birdy Edwards," McMurdo
explained. "I need not tell you that he is not here under that
name. He's a brave man, but not a crazy one. He passes under
the name of Steve Wilson, and he is lodging at Hobson's Patch."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I fell into talk with him. I thought little of it at the
time, nor would have given it a second thought but for this letter;
but now I'm sure it's the man. I met him on the cars when I went
down the line on Wednesday -- a hard case if ever there was one.
He said he was a reporter. I believed it for the moment. Wanted
to know all he could about the Scowrers and what he called 'the
outrages' for a New York paper. Asked me every kind of
question so as to get something. You bet I was giving nothing
away. 'I'd pay for it and pay well,' said he, 'if I could get some
stuff that would suit my editor.' I said what I thought would
please him best, and he handed me a twenty-dollar bill for my
information. 'There's ten times that for you,' said he, 'if you can
find me all that I want.'"
"What did you tell him, then?"
"Any stuff I could make up."
"How do you know he wasn't a newspaper man?"
"I'll tell you. He got out at Hobson's Patch, and so did I. I
chanced into the telegraph bureau, and he was leaving it.
"'See here,' said the operator after he'd gone out, 'I guess
we should charge double rates for this.' -- 'I guess you should,'
said I. He had filled the form with stuff that might have been
Chinese, for all we could make of it. 'He fires a sheet of this off
every day,' said the clerk. 'Yes,' said I; 'it's special news for his
paper, and he's scared that the others should tap it.' That was
what the operator thought and what I thought at the time; but I
think differently now."
"By Gar! I believe you are right," said McGinty. "But what
do you allow that we should do about it?"
"Why not go right down now and fix him?" someone suggested.
"Ay, the sooner the better."
"I'd start this next minute if I knew where we could find
him," said McMurdo. "He's in Hobson's Patch; but I don't
know the house. I've got a plan, though, if you'll only take my
advice."
"Well, what is it?"
"I'll go to the Patch to-morrow morning. I'll find him through
the operator. He can locate him, I guess. Well, then I'll tell him
that I'm a Freeman myself. I'll offer him all the secrets of the
lodge for a price. You bet he'll tumble to it. I'll tell him the
papers are at my house, and that it's as much as my life would
be worth to let him come while folk were about. He'll see that
that's horse sense. Let him come at ten o'clock at night, and he
shall see everything. That will fetch him sure."
"Well?"
"You can plan the rest for yourselves. Widow MacNamara's
is a lonely house. She's as true as steel and as deaf as a post.
There's only Scanlan and me in the house. If I get his promise --
and I'll let you know if I do -- I'd have the whole seven of you
come to me by nine o'clock. We'll get him in. If ever he gets out
alive -- well, he can talk of Birdy Edwards's luck for the rest of
his days!"
"There's going to be a vacancy at Pinkerton's or I'm mistaken.
Leave it at that, McMurdo. At nine to-morrow we'll be with you.
You once get the door shut behind him, and you can leave the rest
with us." _