very prospect of some day succeeding
McGinty as Bodymaster, was now so necessary to the councils of his
comrades that nothing was done without his help and advice. The more
popular he became, however, with the Freemen, the blacker were the
scowls which greeted him as he passed along the streets of Vermissa. In
spite of their terror the citizens were taking heart to band themselves
together against their oppressors. Rumours had reached the lodge of
secret gatherings in the Herald office and of distribution of firearms
among the law-abiding people. But McGinty and his men were undisturbed
by such reports. They were numerous, resolute, and well armed. Their
opponents were scattered and powerless. It would all end, as it had done
in the past, in aimless talk and possibly in impotent arrests. So said
McGinty, McMurdo, and all the bolder spirits.

It was a Saturday evening in May. Saturday was always the lodge night,
and McMurdo was leaving his house to attend it when Morris, the weaker
brother of the order, came to see him. His brow was creased with care,
and his kindly face was drawn and haggard.

"Can I speak with you freely, Mr. McMurdo?"

"Sure."

"I can't forget that I spoke my heart to you once, and that you kept it
to yourself, even though the Boss himself came to ask you about it."

"What else could I do if you trusted me? It wasn't that I agreed with
what you said."

"I know that well. But you are the one that I can speak to and be safe.
I've a secret here," he put his hand to his breast, "and it is just
burning the life out of me. I wish it had come to any one of you but me.
If I tell it, it will mean murder, for sure. If I don't, it may bring
the end of us all. God help me, but I am near out of my wits over it!"

McMurdo looked at the man earnestly. He was trembling in every limb. He
poured some whisky into a glass and handed it to him. "That's the physic
for the likes of you," said he. "Now let me hear of it."

Morris drank, and his white face took a tinge of colour. "I can tell
it to you all in one sentence," said he. "There's a detective on our
trail."

McMurdo stared at him in astonishment. "Why, man, you're crazy," he
said. "Isn't the place full of police and detectives and what harm did
they ever do us?"

"No, no, it's no man of the district. As you say, we know them, and it
is little that they can do. But you've heard of Pinkerton's?"

"I've read of some folk of that name."

"Well, you can ta