Chapter: On the day following the evening which had contained so many exciting
events, McMurdo moved his lodgings from old Jacob Shafter's and took up
his quarters at the Widow MacNamara's on the extreme outskirts of the
town. Scanlan, his original acquaintance aboard the train, had occasion
shortly afterwards to move into Vermissa, and the two lodged together.
There was no other boarder, and the hostess was an easy-going old
Irishwoman who left them to themselves; so that they had a freedom for
speech and action welcome 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 Ettie was by no means
broken. On the contrary, it drew 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 moulds, 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 favourite with them all; while the
rapid and scientific way in which he polished off his antagonist in
an "all in" bar-room scrap earned the respect of that rough community.
Another incident, however, raised him even higher in their estimation.

Just 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 ruffianism 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 whisky; for the night is bitter," said the police officer.
"I don't think we have met before, Councillor?"

"You'll be the new captain?" said McGinty.

"That's so. We're looking to you, Councillor, 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 poorer fellow citizen?"

"Well, well, we won't argue about that," said the police officer
good-humouredly. "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. "Hullo! Hullo!" 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 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. "D'ye
think I'm ashamed of my own name?"

"You've got good cause to be, anyhow."

"What the devil d'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."

McMurdo's 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 to-morrow."

"I'm very well where I am."

"Well, I've given you the pointer, and you're a sulky 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 straight," 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, Councillor."

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 Scanlan not been at
hand to lead him home, the feted hero would surely have spent his night
under the bar.

On a 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 postulant. 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 coloured 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 file 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 the 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 quarrelled as to who had actually struck the fatal
blow, and amused one another and the company by 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 stanch 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 Scowrers 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 ordeal 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 trussed, 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 Freemen?"

He bowed in assent.

"Is your lodge No. 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 countersign 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
rites, 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. None the less, 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 you accept the rule 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. You will put the liquor on the table, Brother
Scanlan, 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 the forearm was a circle with a triangle within it, deep and red, as
the branding iron had left it. One or two of his neighbours 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."

"Tut! 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 surprise 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 Windle of Merton County Lodge 249.
He says:

"Dear Sir:

"There is a job to be done on Andrew Rae of Rae & Sturmash, 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 patrolman
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 in freedom,

"J.W. WINDLE D.M.A.O.F."

"Windle has never refused us when we have had occasion to ask for the
loan of a man or two, and it is not for us to refuse him." McGinty
paused and looked round the room with his dull, malevolent eyes. "Who
will volunteer for the job?"

Several young fellows held up their hands. The Bodymaster 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?" asked 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?" asked 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, 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. "Folk are gettin' 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?" McMurdo 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?"

McMurdo'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. "'Tis a proper place for a lad of mettle."

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.

"'Tis our new brother, sir, who finds our ways to his taste."

McMurdo 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 felt that a new sun 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, Harraway, a vulture-faced old
graybeard who sat near the chairman, "that Brother McMurdo 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 McMurdo.

"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 to-night in which you may take a
hand if it so please you."

"I will wait for something that is worth while."

"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 is 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," McMurdo's neighbour informed him.

"The funds are good at the moment," said the treasurer, with the
bankbook in front of him. "The firms have been generous of late. Max
Linder & 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 get out of order. We
had to burn their breaker last year before they became reasonable. Then
the West Section Coaling Company has paid its annual contribution. We
have enough on hand to meet any obligations."

"What about Archie Swindon?" asked a brother.

"He has 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 & 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 Manson and of Shuman and of Van Deher
and of Atwood, which have all been given up of late?"

"They were all bought by the West Gilmerton 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 Bodymaster, 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 that 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.

"It 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 lawcourts? 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 when 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'm Sitting on the Stile, Mary," and
"On the Banks of Allan Water."

In his very first night the new recruit had made himself one of the most
popular of the brethren, marked already for advancement and high office.
There were other qualities needed, however, besides those of good
fellowship, to make a worthy Freeman, and of these he was given an
example before the evening was over. The whisky bottle had passed round
many times, and the men were flushed and ripe for mischief when their
Bodymaster rose once more to address them.

"Boys," said he, "there's one man in this town that wants 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.

"REIGN 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 world. 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 where in 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 what ever 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 two
hundred 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 fear
lest 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 scowl 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 at the company, "I'll say this much, that if Stanger got his full
deserts there would be more trouble than we need 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, and you,
Mansel, and you, Scanlan, and the two Willabys."

"I promised the new brother he should go," said the chairman.

Ted Baldwin looked at McMurdo with eyes which showed that he had not
forgotten nor 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 revellers, 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 Herald" 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 can stand below at the door
and see that the road is kept open for us. Arthur Willaby 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
revellers 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 of falling chairs. An instant later a gray-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 others ceased at last; but Baldwin, his cruel face set in
an infernal smile, was hacking at the man's head, which he vainly
endeavoured 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. "Drop it!"

Baldwin looked at him in amazement. "Curse you!" he cried. "Who are you
to interfere--you that are new to the lodge? Stand back!" He raised his
stick; but McMurdo had whipped 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 truth he says," remarked one of the men.

"By Gar! 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.

 McMurdo moves to the Widow MacNamara's on the outskirts of town; Scanlan moves there as well. Shafter still lets McMurdo eat his meals at the boarding house, and thus his relationship with Ettie continues. McMurdo shows off his coining molds to his visitors; he says that he would do this full-time if the police weren't after him. One day at the saloon a new member of the mine police comes in for a drink. McGinty greets him amiably but tells the man, Captain Marvin, that they do not need his services in the town. Marvin remains good-humored, but suddenly he sees McMurdo and calls him out as a criminal from Chicago. McMurdo is rude to him; however, Marvin says his name is now clear in Chicago, and that he will only get in trouble if he does something wrong here. The tale of McMurdo's exploits makes him even more of a hero in the miners' eyes. On Saturday night, McMurdo attends the lodge meeting for his initiation. McGinty sits at front like some sort of priest. Old men and enthusiastic young men talk; the young men boast of murderous deeds. The proceedings of these meetings are very open; they used to be secret, but they no longer have to be because no authority can stop them from doing as they please. McMurdo knows there will be some sort of ordeal for his initiation, but does not know what it will be like. McGinty orders him bound and blindfolded, asks him questions to prove he knows the code, asks him to prove his bravery by walking forward blindly, and to prove he can withstand pain by branding him with the symbol. Though the pain is excessive, he handles himself well, and all the men are impressed. He accepts the rules of the Bodymaster and is officially welcomed in. After this official business ensues. One man is to be killed in order to fulfill a pledge to another lodge. Two young men are given the task, and McMurdo says he would like to do this as well. Many people approve of his audacity, but others think things are moving quickly. McGinty says that his time will come, but he can come hear another matter that evening. They then discuss a pension for Jim Carnaway's widow; Jim was killed when the raid to kill Chester Wilcox failed. An elderly man with a kind face rises and asks who is taking over all the small mining companies. The answer is State & Merton County Railroad Company, which seems to be making massive inroads in the area. Morris suggests they not drive out all the small bosses because once the big companies are fully in charge they will have the resources to hurt the union and bring them to court. People are hushed and grumble. Morris says they ought to go easy on the small men; McGinty considers this briefly and says there is nothing to worry about. It is then time for refreshments and singing, and McMurdo's fine tenor distinguishes him. The Bodymaster rises again and reads a passage from the newspaper editor, James Stanger. It is very critical of the union, and the men become angry. They want to do something about it, but Morris speaks again and says they cannot: Stanger is respected in the township and could bring about their destruction. McGinty scoffs and then becomes angry with Morris. Morris backs down and apologizes. Baldwin and a few other young men get the task to hurt Stanger, and McMurdo is one of these men. They head to the office that evening after establishing an alibi at the bar. The street is deserted and dark. McMurdo guards the door, and the other men go inside and beat up Stanger. Stanger tries to escape, but McMurdo stops him. The men almost kill the editor, but McMurdo stops them, reminding them that McGinty didn't want him killed. Lights come on after people nearby hear the commotion. The men flee

