The Complete Sherlock Holmes

“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.
“He has sold out and left the district. The old
devil left a note for us to say that he had rather be
a free crossing sweeper in New York than a large
mine owner under the power of a ring of blackmailers.
By Gar! it was as well that he made a
break for it before the note reached us! I guess he
won’t show his face in this valley again.”
An elderly, clean-shaved man with a kindly
face and a good brow rose from the end of the table
which faced the chairman. “Mr. Treasurer,” he
asked, “may I ask who has bought the property of
this man that we have driven out of the district?”
“Yes, Brother Morris. It has been bought by the
State & Merton County Railroad Company.”
“And who bought the mines of Todman and of
Lee that came into the market in the same way last
year?”
“The same company, Brother Morris.”
“And who bought the ironworks of Manson
and of Shuman and of Van Deher and of Atwood,
which have all been given up of late?”
“They were all bought by the West Gilmerton
General Mining Company.”
“I don’t see, Brother Morris,” said the chairman,
“that it matters to us who buys them, since
they can’t carry them out of the district.”
“With all respect to you, Eminent Bodymaster,
I think it may matter very much to us. This process
has been going on now for ten long years. We are
gradually driving all the small men out of trade.
What is the result? We find in their places great
companies like the Railroad or the General Iron,
who have their directors in New York or Philadelphia,
and care nothing for our threats. We can
take it out of their local bosses, but it only means
The Valley Of Fear
716
that others will be sent in their stead. And we are
making it dangerous for ourselves. The small men
could not harm us. They had not the money nor
the power. So long as we did not squeeze them
too dry, they would stay on under our power. But
if these big companies find that we stand between
them and their profits, they will spare no pains
and no expense to hunt us down and bring us to
court.”
There was a hush at these ominous words, and
every face darkened as gloomy looks were exchanged.
So omnipotent and unchallenged had
they been that the very thought that there was possible
retribution in the background had been banished
from their minds. And yet the idea struck a
chill to the most reckless of them.
“It is my advice,” the speaker continued, “that
we go easier upon the small men. On the day that
they have all been driven out the power of this society
will have been broken.”
Unwelcome truths are not popular. There
were angry cries as the speaker resumed his seat.
McGinty rose with gloom upon his brow.
“Brother Morris,” said he, “you were always
a croaker. So long as the members of this lodge
stand together there is no power in the United
States that can touch them. Sure, have we not
tried it often enough in the law courts? I expect
the big companies will find it easier to pay than
to fight, same as the little companies do. And
now, Brethren,” McGinty took off his black velvet
cap and his stole as he spoke, “this lodge has
finished its business for the evening, save for one
small matter which may be mentioned when we
are parting. The time has now come for fraternal
refreshment and for harmony.”
Strange indeed is human nature. Here were
these men, to whom murder was familiar, who
again and again had struck down the father of the
family, some man against whom they had no personal
feeling, without one thought of compunction
or of compassion for his weeping wife or helpless
children, and yet the tender or pathetic in music
could move them to tears. McMurdo had a fine
tenor voice, and if he had failed to gain the good
will of the lodge before, it could no longer have
been withheld after he had thrilled them with “I’m
Sitting on the Stile, Mary,” and “On the Banks of
Allan Water.”
In his very first night the new recruit had made
himself one of the most popular of the brethren,
marked already for advancement and high office.
There were other qualities needed, however, besides
those of good fellowship, to make a worthy