Chapter: 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 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. Stanger's 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 a 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 centre of the town.
In summer it is a favourite 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 restaurant which forms the centre of summer gaiety.
Beside it was a bare flagstaff, and underneath it a man, his hat drawn
down and 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 lodge 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, mister. One never knows in times like these how
a thing may come back to one. One never knows either who to trust or who
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 swore 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 very 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's society in Chicago
and swore vows of charity and fidelity, did ever it cross your mind 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's
society at Chicago?"

"No, I'm 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--curse
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 drygoods store on Market Square, and I prospered well.
The word had gone round that I was a Freeman, and I was forced to join
the local lodge, same as you did last night. I've 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 meshwork 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 backed 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 lost also in the next. I am a good Catholic; but the
priest would have no word with me when he heard I was a Scowrer, 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 his sitting-room, the door swung open and its framework was
filled with the 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. "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, Councillor," McMurdo answered heartily,
bringing his whisky bottle out of the cupboard. "It's an honour that I
had not expected."

"How's the arm?" asked the Boss.

McMurdo made a wry 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 a help to the 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 drygoods 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,
Councillor," said McMurdo boldly. "If you are a judge of men, you'll
know that."

The swarthy giant glared at him, and his hairy paw closed for an instant
round the glass as 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 daren't 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 were 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 leavetaking 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 stopped midway as he became
conscious that two Winchester rifles were levelled 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 Constabulary. 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 and molest
honest, law-abiding men?"

"You're standing out in this deal, Councillor 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 coolly. "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, Councillor.
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 to prove it."

"That's your affair, and I guess you can settle it in court to-morrow.
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 coining 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 Reilly
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 Scowrer!" 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
Freemen 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
whisky, 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, 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 wore a moustache. He added that he
knew them to be Scowrers, 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 official, 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 sat 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!"

 The next morning McMurdo sees a newspaper report detailing the attack; it seems Mr. Stanger survived and recognized some of the men. A note arrives from the landlady. It is unsigned and asks McMurdo to meet Stanger up on Mason Hill. McMurdo has no idea who wrote it, but he walks to the hill out of curiosity. In the isolated area he finds Brother Morris. Morris asks the surprised McMurdo if he can talk to him in confidence. McMurdo is clear that he is loyal to McGinty but will listen to his brother and not squeal on him. Morris goes into an anguished account of the violence he has had to perpetrate; he says that he wants to leave but fears for his wife and kids. He never knew the union was like this, and feels his conscience and religion threatened; he has even been excommunicated. He says the union brings terror to the valley and McMurdo should be aware of that. McMurdo arrogantly says that he is fine, but that he may consider Morris' warning some day. Morris says that before they disband they ought to consider what they will say when asked why they talked; they agree to say that Morris offered McMurdo a clerkship and the young man refused. Later that day McGinty pays McMurdo a visit. They exchange pleasantries and McGinty abruptly asks what he was talking to Morris about. McMurdo laughs, repeats the lie, and sets McGinty's mind at ease when the Bodymaster asks further questions regarding Morris criticizing the union. As they talk the door suddenly bursts open. Captain Marvin and two other men enter forcefully and arrest McMurdo. Despite McGinty's threats, McMurdo is taken away for his involvement in the beating of Stanger. Amazingly, though, nothing comes of the trial. There is no evidence, the witnesses admit the light was unclear and they saw no one definitively, and even Stanger says he saw little. The alibis stand, McMurdo and the others are acquitted, and the police are even implicitly censured. However, the people seem angry with the murderers getting off, and they shake their fists at the Brothers

