McMurdo thought of old Brother Morris. "Sure, it is the second time Ihave heard the valley so named," said he. "The shadow does indeed seemto lie heavy on some of you."
"It darkens every moment of our lives. Do you suppose that Ted Baldwinhas ever forgiven us? If it were not that he fears you, what do yousuppose our chances would be? If you saw the look in those dark, hungryeyes of his when they fall on me!"
"By Gar! I'd teach him better manners if I caught him at it! But seehere, little girl. I can't leave here. I can't--take that from me onceand for all. But if you will leave me to find my own way, I will try toprepare a way of getting honourably out of it."
"There is no honour in such a matter."
"Well, well, it's just how you look at it. But if you'll give me sixmonths, I'll work it so that I can leave without being ashamed to lookothers in the face."
The girl laughed with joy. "Six months!" she cried. "Is it a promise?"
"Well, it may be seven or eight. But within a year at the furthest wewill leave the valley behind us."
It was the most that Ettie could obtain, and yet it was something.There was this distant light to illuminate the gloom of the immediatefuture. She returned to her father's house more light-hearted than shehad ever been since Jack McMurdo had come into her life.
It might be thought that as a member, all the doings of the societywould be told to him; but he was soon to discover that the organizationwas wider and more complex than the simple lodge. Even Boss McGinty wasignorant as to many things; for there was an official named the CountyDelegate, living at Hobson's Patch farther down the line, who had powerover several different lodges which he wielded in a sudden andarbitrary way. Only once did McMurdo see him, a sly, little gray-hairedrat of a man, with a slinking g
ait and a sidelong glance which wascharged with malice. Evans Pott was his name, and even the great Bossof Vermissa felt towards him something of the repulsion and fear whichthe huge Danton may have felt for the puny but dangerous Robespierre.
One day Scanlan, who was McMurdo's fellow boarder, received a note fromMcGinty inclosing one from Evans Pott, which informed him that he wassending over two good men, Lawler and Andrews, who had instructions toact in the neighbourhood; though it was best for the cause that noparticulars as to their objects should be given. Would the Bodymastersee to it that suitable arrangements be made for their lodgings andcomfort until the time for action should arrive? McGinty added that itwas impossible for anyone to remain secret at the Union House, andthat, therefore, he would be obliged if McMurdo and Scanlan would putthe strangers up for a few days in their boarding house.
The same evening the two men arrived, each carrying his gripsack.Lawler was an elderly man, shrewd, silent, and self-contained, clad inan old black frock coat, which with his soft felt hat and ragged,grizzled beard gave him a general resemblance to an itinerant preacher.His companion Andrews was little more than a boy, frank-faced andcheerful, with the breezy manner of one who is out for a holiday andmeans to enjoy every minute of it. Both men were total abstainers, andbehaved in all ways as exemplary members of the society, with the onesimple exception that they were assassins who had often provedthemselves to be most capable instruments for this association ofmurder. Lawler had already carried out fourteen commissions of thekind, and Andrews three.
They were, as McMurdo found, quite ready to converse about their deedsin the past, which they recounted with the half-bashful pride of menwho had done good and unselfish service for the community. They werereticent, however, as to the immediate job in hand.
"They chose us because neither I nor the boy here drink," Lawlerexplained. "They can count on us saying no more than we should. Youmust not take it amiss, but it is the orders of the County Delegatethat we obey."
"Sure, we are all in it together," said Scanlan, McMurdo's mate, as thefour sat together at supper.
"That's true enough, and we'll talk till the cows come home of thekilling of Charlie Williams or of Simon Bird, or any other job in thepast. But till the work is done we say nothing."
"There are half a dozen about here that I have a word to say to," saidMcMurdo, with an oath. "I suppose it isn't Jack Knox of Ironhill thatyou are after. I'd go some way to see him get his deserts."
"No, it's not him yet."
"Or Herman Strauss?"
"No, nor him either."
"Well, if you won't tell us we can't make you; but I'd be glad to know."
Lawler smiled and shook his head. He was not to be drawn.
In spite of the reticence of their guests, Scanlan and McMurdo werequite determined to be present at what they called "the fun." When,therefore, at an early hour one morning McMurdo heard them creepingdown the stairs he awakened Scanlan, and the two hurried on theirclothes. When they were dressed they found that the others had stolenout, leaving the door open behind them. It was not yet dawn, and by thelight of the lamps they could see the two men some distance down thestreet. They followed them warily, treading noiselessly in the deepsnow.
The boarding house was near the edge of the town, and soon they were atthe crossroads which is beyond its boundary. Here three men werewaiting, with whom Lawler and Andrews held a short, eager conversation.Then they all moved on together. It was clearly some notable job whichneeded numbers. At this point there are several trails which lead tovarious mines. The strangers took that which led to the Crow Hill, ahuge business which was in strong hands which had been able, thanks totheir energetic and fearless New England manager, Josiah H. Dunn, tokeep some order and discipline during the long reign of terror.
Day was breaking now, and a line of workmen were slowly making theirway, singly and in groups, along the blackened path.
McMurdo and Scanlan strolled on with the others, keeping in sight ofthe men whom they followed. A thick mist lay over them, and from theheart of it there came the sudden scream of a steam whistle. It was theten-minute signal before the cages descended and the day's labour began.
When they reached the open space round the mine shaft there were ahundred miners waiting, stamping their feet and blowing on theirfingers; for it was bitterly cold. The strangers stood in a littlegroup under the shadow of the engine house. Scanlan and McMurdo climbeda heap of slag from which the whole scene lay before them. They saw themine engineer, a great bearded Scotchman named Menzies, come out of theengine house and blow his whistle for the cages to be lowered.
At the same instant a tall, loose-framed young man with a clean-shaved,earnest face advanced eagerly towards the pit head. As he came forwardhis eyes fell upon the group, silent and motionless, under the enginehouse. The men had drawn down their hats and turned up their collars toscreen their faces. For a moment the presentiment of Death laid itscold hand upon the manager's heart. At the next he had shaken it offand saw only his duty towards intrusive strangers.
"Who are you?" he asked as he advanced. "What are you loitering therefor?"
There was no answer; but the lad Andrews stepped forward and shot himin the stomach. The hundred waiting miners stood as motionless andhelpless as if they were paralyzed. The manager clapped his two handsto the wound and doubled himself up. Then he staggered away; butanother of the assassins fired, and he went down sidewise, kicking andclawing among a heap of clinkers. Menzies, the Scotchman, gave a roarof rage at the sight and rushed with an iron spanner at the murderers;but was met by two balls in the face which dropped him dead at theirvery feet.