To their contorted natures it had become a spirited andchivalrous thing to volunteer for service against some man whohad never injured them, and whom in many cases they had neverseen in their lives. The crime committed, they quarrelled as towho had actually struck the fatal blow, and amused one anotherand the company by describing the cries and contortions of themurdered man.
At first they had shown some secrecy in their arrangements; butat the time which this narrative describes their proceedings wereextraordinarily open, for the repeated failure of the law had provedto them that, on the one hand, no one would dare to witnessagainst them, and on the other they had an unlimited numberof stanch witnesses upon whom they could call, and a well-filledtreasure chest from which they could draw the funds to engagethe best legal talent in the state. In ten long years of outrage therehad been no single conviction, and the only danger that everthreatened the Scowrers lay in the victim himself—who, howeveroutnumbered and taken by surprise, might and occasionally didleave his mark upon his assailants.
McMurdo had been warned that some ordeal lay before him;but no one would tell him in what it consisted. He was led nowinto an outer room by two solemn brothers. Through the plankpartition he could hear the murmur of many voices from theassembly within. Once or twice he caught the sound of his ownname, and he knew that they were discussing his candidacy. Thenthere entered an inner guard with a green and gold sash across hischest.
“The Bodymaster orders that he shall be trussed, blinded, andentered,” said he.
The three of them removed his coat, turned up the sleeve ofhis right arm, and finally passed a rope round above the elbowsand made it fast. They next placed a thick black cap right over hishead and the upper part of his face, so that he could see nothing.
He was then led into the assembly hall.
It was pitch dark and very oppressive under his hood. He heardthe rustle and murmur of the people round him, and then thevoice of McGinty sounded dull and distant through the coveringof his ears.
“John McMurdo,” said the voice, “are you already a member ofthe Ancient Order of Freemen?”
He bowed in assent.
“Is your lodge No. 29, Chicago?”
He bowed again.
“Dark nights are unpleasant,” said the voice.
“Yes, for strangers to travel,” he answered.
“The clouds are heavy.”
“Yes, a storm is approaching.”
“Are the brethren satisfied?” asked the Bodymaster.
There was a general murmur of assent.
“We know, Brother, by your sign and by your countersign thatyou are indeed one of us,” said McGinty. “We would have youknow, however, that in this county and in other counties of theseparts we have certain rites, and also certain duties of our ownwhich call for good men. Are you ready to be tested?”
“I am.”
“Are you of stout heart?”
“I am.”
“Take a stride forward to prove it.”
As the words were said he felt two hard points in front of hiseyes, pressing upon them so that it appeared as if he could notmove forward without a danger of losing them. None the less, henerved himself to step resolutely out, and as he did so the pressuremelted away. There was a low murmur of applause.
“He is of stout heart,” said the voice. “Can you bear pain?”
“As well as another,” he answered.
“Test him!”
It was all he could do to keep himself from screaming out, foran agonizing pain shot through his forearm. He nearly fainted atthe sudden shock of it; but he bit his lip and clenched his hands tohide his agony.
“I can take more than that,” said he.
This time there was loud applause. A finer first appearance hadnever been made in the lodge. Hands clapped him on the back,and the hood was plucked from his head. He stood blinking andsmiling amid the congratulations of the brothers.
“One last word, Brother McMurdo,” said McGinty. “You havealready sworn the oath of secrecy and fidelity, and you are awarethat the punishment for any breach of it is instant and inevitabledeath?”
“I am,” said McMurdo.
“And you accept the rule of the Bodymaster for the time beingunder all circumstances?”
“I do.”
“Then in the name of Lodge 341, Vermissa, I welcome you toits privileges and debates. You will put the liquor on the table,Brother Scanlan, and we will drink to our worthy brother.”
McMurdo’s coat had been brought to him; but before putting iton he examined his right arm, which still smarted heavily. Thereon the flesh of the forearm was a circle with a triangle within it,deep and red, as the branding iron had left it. One or two of hisneighbours pulled up their sleeves and showed their own lodgemarks.
“We’ve all had it,” said one; “but not all as brave as you over it.”
“Tut! It was nothing,” said he; but it burned and ached all thesame.
When the drinks which followed the ceremony of initiation hadall been disposed of, the business of the lodge proceeded. McMurdo,accustomed only to the prosaic performances of Chicago, listenedwith open ears and more surprise than he ventured to show towhat followed.
“The first business on the agenda paper,” said McGinty, “is toread the following letter from Division Master Windle of MertonCounty Lodge 249. He says:
“Dear Sir:
“There is a job to be done on Andrew Rae of Rae & Sturmash, coalowners near this place. You will remember that your lodge owes us areturn, having had the service of two brethren in the matter of thepatrolman last fall. You will send two good men, they will be takencharge of by Treasurer Higgins of this lodge, whose address you know.
He will show them when to act and where. Yours in freedom,“J.W. Windle, E D.M.A.O.F.”
“Windle has never refused us when we have had occasion toask for the loan of a man or two, and it is not for us to refusehim.” McGinty paused and looked round the room with his dull,malevolent eyes. “Who will volunteer for the job?”
Several young fellows held up their hands. The Bodymasterlooked at them with an approving smile.
“You’ll do, Tiger Cormac. If you handle it as well as you did thelast, you won’t be wrong. And you, Wilson.”
