Chapter VI

Danger

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 countersigns 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. He

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.”