The Valley of Fear (Sherlock Holmes 7)

For a few moments McMurdo and the girl stood in silence. Then she threwher arms around him.

"Oh, Jack, how brave you were! But it is no use, you must fly!To-night--Jack--to-night! It's your only hope. He will have your life.I read it in his horrible eyes. What chance have you against a dozen ofthem, with Boss McGinty and all the power of the lodge behind them?"

McMurdo disengaged her hands, kissed her, and gently pushed her backinto a chair. "There, acushla, there! Don't be disturbed or fear forme. I'm a Freeman myself. I'm after telling your father about it. MaybeI am no better than the others; so don't make a saint of me. Perhapsyou hate me too, now that I've told you as much?"

"Hate you, Jack? While life lasts I could never do that! I've heardthat there is no harm in being a Freeman anywhere but here; so whyshould I think the worse of you for that? But if you are a Freeman,Jack, why should you not go down and make a friend of Boss McGinty? Oh,hurry, Jack, hurry! Get your word in first, or the hounds will be onyour trail."

"I was thinking the same thing," said McMurdo. "I'll go right now andfix it. You can tell your father that I'll sleep here to-night and findsome other quarters in the morning."

The bar of McGinty's saloon was crowded as usual, for it was thefavourite loafing place of all the rougher elements of the town. Theman was popular; for he had a rough, jovial disposition which formed amask, covering a great deal which lay behind it. But apart from thispopularity, the fear in which he was held throughout the township, andindee

d down the whole thirty miles of the valley and past the mountainson each side of it, was enough in itself to fill his bar; for nonecould afford to neglect his good will.

Besides those secret powers which it was universally believed that heexercised in so pitiless a fashion, he was a high public official, amunicipal councillor, and a commissioner of roads, elected to theoffice through the votes of the ruffians who in turn expected toreceive favours at his hands. Assessments and taxes were enormous; thepublic works were notoriously neglected, the accounts were slurred overby bribed auditors, and the decent citizen was terrorized into payingpublic blackmail, and holding his tongue lest some worse thing befallhim.

Thus it was that, year by year, Boss McGinty's diamond pins became moreobtrusive, his gold chains more weighty across a more gorgeous vest,and his saloon stretched farther and farther, until it threatened toabsorb one whole side of the Market Square.

McMurdo pushed open the swinging door of the saloon and made his wayamid the crowd of men within, through an atmosphere blurred withtobacco smoke and heavy with the smell of spirits. The place wasbrilliantly lighted, and the huge, heavily gilt mirrors upon every wallreflected and multiplied the garish illumination. There were severalbartenders in their shirt sleeves, hard at work mixing drinks for theloungers who fringed the broad, brass-trimmed counter.

At the far end, with his body resting upon the bar and a cigar stuck atan acute angle from the corner of his mouth, stood a tall, strong,heavily built man who could be none other than the famous McGintyhimself. He was a black-maned giant, bearded to the cheek-bones, andwith a shock of raven hair which fell to his collar. His complexion wasas swarthy as that of an Italian, and his eyes were of a strange deadblack, which, combined with a slight squint, gave them a particularlysinister appearance.

All else in the man--his noble proportions, his fine features, and hisfrank bearing--fitted in with that jovial, man-to-man manner which heaffected. Here, one would say, is a bluff, honest fellow, whose heartwould be sound however rude his outspoken words might seem. It was onlywhen those dead, dark eyes, deep and remorseless, were turned upon aman that he shrank within himself, feeling that he was face to facewith an infinite possibility of latent evil, with a strength andcourage and cunning behind it which made it a thousand times moredeadly.

Having had a good look at his man, McMurdo elbowed his way forward withhis usual careless audacity, and pushed himself through the littlegroup of courtiers who were fawning upon the powerful boss, laughinguproariously at the smallest of his jokes. The young stranger's boldgray eyes looked back fearlessly through their glasses at the deadlyblack ones which turned sharply upon him.

"Well, young man, I can't call your face to mind."

"I'm new here, Mr. McGinty."

"You are not so new that you can't give a gentleman his proper title."

"He's Councillor McGinty, young man," said a voice from the group.

"I'm sorry, Councillor. I'm strange to the ways of the place. But I wasadvised to see you."

"Well, you see me. This is all there is. What d'you think of me?"

"Well, it's early days. If your heart is as big as your body, and yoursoul as fine as your face, then I'd ask for nothing better," saidMcMurdo.

"By Gar! you've got an Irish tongue in your head anyhow," cried thesaloon-keeper, not quite certain whether to humour this audaciousvisitor or to stand upon his dignity.

"So you are good enough to pass my appearance?"

"Sure," said McMurdo.

"And you were told to see me?"

"I was."

"And who told you?"

"Brother Scanlan of Lodge 341, Vermissa. I drink your healthCouncillor, and to our better acquaintance." He raised a glass withwhich he had been served to his lips and elevated his little finger ashe drank it.

McGinty, who had been watching him narrowly, raised his thick blackeyebrows. "Oh, it's like that, is it?" said he. "I'll have to look abit closer into this, Mister--"

"McMurdo."

"A bit closer, Mr. McMurdo; for we don't take folk on trust in theseparts, nor believe all we're told neither. Come in here for a moment,behind the bar."