Chapter III

Page 86 of 126

“Get what?” McMurdo whispered to his neighbour.

“The business end of a buckshot cartridge!” cried the man with a loud laugh. “What think you of our ways, Brother?”

McMurdo’s criminal soul seemed to have already absorbed the spirit of the vile association of which he was now a member. “I like it well,” said he. “’Tis a proper place for a lad of mettle.”

Several of those who sat around heard his words and applauded them.

“What’s that?” cried the black-maned Bodymaster from the end of the table.

“’Tis our new brother, sir, who finds our ways to his taste.”

McMurdo rose to his feet for an instant. “I would say, Eminent Bodymaster, that if a man should be wanted I should take it as an honour to be chosen to help the lodge.”

There was great applause at this. It was felt that a new sun was pushing its rim above the horizon. To some of the elders it seemed that the progress was a little too rapid.

“I would move,” said the secretary, Harraway, a vulture-faced old graybeard who sat near the chairman, “that Brother McMurdo should wait until it is the good pleasure of the lodge to employ him.”

“Sure, that was what I meant; I’m in your hands,” said McMurdo.

“Your time will come, Brother,” said the chairman. “We have marked you down as a willing man, and we believe that you will do good work in these parts. There is a small matter to-night in which you may take a hand if it so please you.”

“I will wait for something that is worth while.”

“You can come to-night, anyhow, and it will help you to know what we stand for in this community. I will make the announcement later. Meanwhile,” he glanced at his agenda paper, “I have one or two more points to bring before the meeting. First of all, I will ask the treasurer as to our bank balance. There is the pension to Jim Carnaway’s widow. He was struck down doing the work of the lodge, and it is for us to see that she is not the loser.”

“Jim was shot last month when they tried to kill Chester Wilcox of Marley Creek,” McMurdo’s neighbour informed him.

“The funds are good at the moment,” said the treasurer, with the bankbook in front of him. “The firms have been generous of late. Max Linder & Co. paid five hundred to be left alone. Walker Brothers sent in a hundred; but I took it on myself to return it and ask for five. If I do not hear by Wednesday, their winding gear may get out of order. We had to burn their breaker last year before they became reasonable. Then the West Section Coaling Company has paid its annual contribution. We have enough on hand to meet any obligations.”

“What about Archie Swindon?” asked a brother.