The Valley of Fear
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.