The Valley of Fear Page 11
Chapter 4
The Valley of Fear
When McMurdo awoke next morning he had good reason to remember hisinitiation 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 hisown peculiar source of income, he was irregular in his attendance athis work; so he had a late breakfast, and remained at home for themorning writing a long letter to a friend. Afterwards he read the DailyHerald. 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 morefamiliar 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 handwhich was shaky from the excesses of the previous evening, when therewas a knock outside, and his landlady brought to him a note which hadjust 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 notimagine what it meant or who was the author of it. Had it been in afeminine hand, he might have imagined that it was the beginning of oneof 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 isdesolate enough. From the top of it one has a view not only of thewhole straggling, grimy town, but of the winding valley beneath, withits scattered mines and factories blackening the snow on each side ofit, and of the wooded and white-capped ranges flanking it.
McMurdo strolled up the winding path hedged in with evergreens until hereached the deserted restaurant which forms the centre of summergaiety. Beside it was a bare flagstaff, and underneath it a man, hishat drawn down and the collar of his overcoat turned up. When he turnedhis face McMurdo saw that it was Brother Morris, he who had incurredthe anger of the Bodymaster the night before. The lodge sign was givenand 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 thesehow a thing may come back to one. One never knows either who to trustor 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 knowwell, that I swore good faith to our Bodymaster. Would you be asking meto break my oath?"
"If that is the view you take," said Morris sadly, "I can only say thatI am sorry I gave you the trouble to come and meet me. Things have cometo a bad pass when two free citizens cannot speak their thoughts toeach other."
McMurdo, who had been watching his companion very narrowly, relaxedsomewhat in his bearing. "Sure I spoke for myself only," said he. "I ama newcomer, as you know, and I am strange to it all. It is not for meto open my mouth, Mr. Morris, and if you think well to say anything tome 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 Iam loyal to the lodge, and so I tell you straight; but I would be apoor creature if I were to repeat to any other what you might say to mein confidence. It will go no further than me; though I warn you thatyou 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 asyou are--and it seemed to me last night that you were shaping to be asbad as the worst--still you are new to it, and your conscience cannotyet 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 inChicago and swore vows of charity and fidelity, did ever it cross yourmind 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. "Youhave seen little of it if you can call it anything else. Was it crimelast night when a man old enough to be your father was beaten till theblood dripped from his white hairs? Was that crime--or what else wouldyou call it?"
"There are some would say it was war," said McMurdo, "a war of twoclasses with all in, so that each struck as best it could."
"Well, did you think of such a thing when you joined the Freeman'ssociety 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 cluband a meeting place for one's fellows. Then I heard of thisplace--curse the hour that the name first fell upon my ears!--and Icame to better myself! My God! to better myself! My wife and threechildren came with me. I started a dry goods store on Market Square,and I prospered well. The word had gone round that I was a Freeman, andI was forced to join the local lodge, same as you did last night. I'vethe badge of shame on my forearm and something worse branded on myheart. I found that I was under the orders of a black villain andcaught in a meshwork of crime. What could I do? Every word I said tomake things better was taken as treason, same as it was last night. Ican't get away; for all I have in the world is in my store. If I leavethe society, I know well that it means murder to me, and God knows whatto my wife and children. Oh, man, it is awful--awful!" He put his handsto his face, and his body shook with convulsive sobs.
McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. "You were too soft for the job," saidhe. "You are the wrong sort for such work."
"I had a conscience and a religion; but they made me a criminal amongthem. I was chosen for a job. If I backed down I knew well what wouldcome to me. Maybe I'm a coward. Maybe it's the thought of my poorlittle woman and the children that makes me one. Anyhow I went. I guessit 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 couldnot trust me with the job. The others went in. When they came out theirhands were crimson to the wrists. As we turned away a child wasscreaming out of the house behind us. It was a boy of five who had seenhis father murdered. I nearly fainted with the horror of it, and yet Ihad to keep a bold and smiling face; for well I knew that if I did notit would be out of my house that they would come next with their bloodyhands and it would be my little Fred that would be screaming for hisfather.
"But I was a criminal then, part sharer in a murder, lost forever inthis world, and lost also in the next. I a
m a good Catholic; but thepriest would have no word with me when he heard I was a Scowrer, and Iam excommunicated from my faith. That's how it stands with me. And Isee 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 anythingto stop it?"
"What would you do?" asked McMurdo abruptly. "You would not inform?"
"God forbid!" cried Morris. "Sure, the very thought would cost me mylife."
"That's well," said McMurdo. "I'm thinking that you are a weak man andthat 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 youthat the cloud of murder hangs thicker and lower than that over theheads of the people. It is the Valley of Fear, the Valley of Death. Theterror 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," saidMcMurdo carelessly. "What is very clear is that you are not the man forthe place, and that the sooner you sell out--if you only get a dime adollar 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 werean informer--"
"No, no!" cried Morris piteously.
"Well, let it rest at that. I'll bear what you have said in mind, andmaybe some day I'll come back to it. I expect you meant kindly byspeaking 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 thestove of his sitting-room, the door swung open and its framework wasfilled with the huge figure of Boss McGinty. He passed the sign, andthen seating himself opposite to the young man he looked at himsteadily for some time, a look which was as steadily returned.
"I'm not much of a visitor, Brother McMurdo," he said at last. "I guessI am too busy over the folk that visit me. But I thought I'd stretch apoint 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 Ihad not expected."
"How's the arm?" asked the Boss.
McMurdo made a wry face. "Well, I'm not forgetting it," he said; "butit's worth it."
"Yes, it's worth it," the other answered, "to those that are loyal andgo through with it and are a help to the lodge. What were you speakingto Brother Morris about on Miller Hill this morning?"
The question came so suddenly that it was well that he had his answerprepared. He burst into a hearty laugh. "Morris didn't know I couldearn a living here at home. He shan't know either; for he has got toomuch 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 agood turn by offering me a clerkship in a dry goods 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 fourhours' 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 inthese 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'llknow that."
The swarthy giant glared at him, and his hairy paw closed for aninstant round the glass as though he would hurl it at the head of hiscompanion. 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 nota loyal brother. We know that well. So we watch him and we wait for thetime 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 companywith 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 theman," McMurdo answered. "As to being disloyal, if it was any man butyou he would not use the word to me twice."
"Well, that's enough," said McGinty, draining off his glass. "I camedown 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 Ihad spoken with Morris at all?"
McGinty laughed. "It's my business to know what goes on in thistownship," said he. "I guess you'd best reckon on my hearing all thatpasses. Well, time's up, and I'll just say--"
But his leavetaking was cut short in a very unexpected fashion. With asudden crash the door flew open, and three frowning, intent facesglared in at them from under the peaks of police caps. McMurdo sprangto his feet and half drew his revolver; but his arm stopped midway ashe became conscious that two Winchester rifles were levelled at hishead. A man in uniform advanced into the room, a six-shooter in hishand. It was Captain Marvin, once of Chicago, and now of the MineConstabulary. He shook his head with a half-smile at McMurdo.
"I thought you'd be getting into trouble, Mr. Crooked McMurdo ofChicago," said he. "Can't keep out of it, can you? Take your hat andcome along with us."
"I guess you'll pay for this, Captain Marvin," said McGinty. "Who areyou, I'd like to know, to break into a house in this fashion and molesthonest, law-abiding men?"
"You're standing out in this deal, Councillor McGinty," said the policecaptain. "We are not out after you, but after this man McMurdo. It isfor you to help, not to hinder us in our duty."
"He is a friend of mine, and I'll answer for his conduct," said theBoss.
"By all accounts, Mr. McGinty, you may have to answer for your ownconduct some of these days," the captain answered. "This man McMurdowas a crook before ever he came here, and he's a crook still. Coverhim, Patrolman, while I disarm him."
"There's my pistol," said McMurdo coolly. "Maybe, Captain Marvin, ifyou 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 welllive in Russia as in Vermissa while folk like you are running thepolice. It's a capitalist outrage, and you'll hear more of it, Ireckon."
"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 Heraldoffice. 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. Thisman was with me in my saloon playing poker up to midnight, and I canbring 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 gunacross your head. You stand wide, Mr. McGinty; for I warn you I willstand no resistance when I am on duty!"
So determined was the appearance of the captain that both McMurdo andhis boss were forced to accept the situation. The latter managed tohave 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 placeunder the floor.
"I'll bid you good-bye," said the Boss, shaking hands. "I'll see Reillythe lawyer and take the defense upon myself. Take my word for it thatthey won't be able to hold you."
"I wouldn't
bet on that. Guard the prisoner, you two, and shoot him ifhe tries any games. I'll search the house before I leave."
He did so; but apparently found no trace of the concealed plant. Whenhe had descended he and his men escorted McMurdo to headquarters.Darkness had fallen, and a keen blizzard was blowing so that thestreets 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 andjeered as he was pushed into the police station. After a short, formalexamination from the inspector in charge he was put into the commoncell. Here he found Baldwin and three other criminals of the nightbefore, all arrested that afternoon and waiting their trial nextmorning.
But even within this inner fortress of the law the long arm of theFreemen was able to extend. Late at night there came a jailer with astraw bundle for their bedding, out of which he extracted two bottlesof whisky, some glasses, and a pack of cards. They spent a hilariousnight, without an anxious thought as to the ordeal of the morning.
Nor had they cause, as the result was to show. The magistrate could notpossibly, on the evidence, have held them for a higher court. On theone hand the compositors and pressmen were forced to admit that thelight was uncertain, that they were themselves much perturbed, and thatit was difficult for them to swear to the identity of the assailants;although they believed that the accused were among them. Cross examinedby the clever attorney who had been engaged by McGinty, they were evenmore nebulous in their evidence.
The injured man had already deposed that he was so taken by surprise bythe suddenness of the attack that he could state nothing beyond thefact that the first man who struck him wore a moustache. He added thathe knew them to be Scowrers, since no one else in the community couldpossibly have any enmity to him, and he had long been threatened onaccount of his outspoken editorials. On the other hand, it was clearlyshown by the united and unfaltering evidence of six citizens, includingthat high municipal official, Councillor McGinty, that the men had beenat a card party at the Union House until an hour very much later thanthe commission of the outrage.
Needless to say that they were discharged with something very near toan apology from the bench for the inconvenience to which they had beenput, together with an implied censure of Captain Marvin and the policefor their officious zeal.
The verdict was greeted with loud applause by a court in which McMurdosaw many familiar faces. Brothers of the lodge smiled and waved. Butthere were others who sat with compressed lips and brooding eyes as themen filed out of the dock. One of them, a little, dark-bearded,resolute fellow, put the thoughts of himself and comrades into words asthe ex-prisoners passed him.
"You damned murderers!" he said. "We'll fix you yet!"