“Yes; but the next step wants considering. He’s a hardproposition. He’s heavily armed. I’ve fooled him proper, and yethe is likely to be on his guard. Suppose I show him right into aroom with seven men in it where he expected to find me alone.
There is going to be shooting, and somebody is going to be hurt.”
“That’s so.”
“And the noise is going to bring every damned copper in thetownship on top of it.”
“I guess you are right.”
“This is how I should work it. You will all be in the big room—same as you saw when you had a chat with me. I’ll open the doorfor him, show him into the parlour beside the door, and leavehim there while I get the papers. That will give me the chanceof telling you how things are shaping. Then I will go back to himwith some faked papers. As he is reading them I will jump for himand get my grip on his pistol arm. You’ll hear me call and in youwill rush. The quicker the better; for he is as strong a man as I,and I may have more than I can manage. But I allow that I canhold him till you come.”
“It’s a good plan,” said McGinty. “The lodge will owe you a debtfor this. I guess when I move out of the chair I can put a name tothe man that’s coming after me.”
“Sure, Councillor, I am little more than a recruit,” saidMcMurdo; but his face showed what he thought of the great man’scompliment.
When he had returned home he made his own preparationsfor the grim evening in front of him. First he cleaned, oiled, andloaded his Smith & Wesson revolver. Then he surveyed the roomin which the detective was to be trapped. It was a large apartment,with a long deal table in the centre, and the big stove at one side.
At each of the other sides were windows. There were no shutterson these: only light curtains which drew across. McMurdoexamined these attentively. No doubt it must have struck himthat the apartment was very exposed for so secret a meeting. Yetits distance from the road made it of less consequence. Finallyhe discussed the matter with his fellow lodger. Scanlan, though aScowrer, was an inoffensive little man who was too weak to standagainst the opinion of his comrades, but was secretly horrifiedby the deeds of blood at which he had sometimes been forced toassist. McMurdo told him shortly what was intended.
“And if I were you, Mike Scanlan, I would take a night off andkeep clear of it. There will be bloody work here before morning.”
“Well, indeed then, Mac,” Scanlan answered. “It’s not the willbut the nerve that is wanting in me. When I saw Manager Dunngo down at the colliery yonder it was just more than I could stand.
I’m not made for it, same as you or McGinty. If the lodge willthink none the worse of me, I’ll just do as you advise and leave youto yourselves for the evening.”
The men came in good time as arranged. They were outwardlyrespectable citizens, well clad and cleanly; but a judge of faceswould have read little hope for Birdy Edwards in those hardmouths and remorseless eyes. There was not a man in the roomwhose hands had not been reddened a dozen times before. Theywere as hardened to human murder as a butcher to sheep.
Foremost, of course, both in appearance and in guilt, wasthe formidable Boss. Harraway, the secretary, was a lean, bitterman with a long, scraggy neck and nervous, jerky limbs, a manof incorruptible fidelity where the finances of the order wereconcerned, and with no notion of justice or honesty to anyonebeyond. The treasurer, Carter, was a middle-aged man, with animpassive, rather sulky expression, and a yellow parchment skin.
He was a capable organizer, and the actual details of nearly everyoutrage had sprung from his plotting brain. The two Willabyswere men of action, tall, lithe young fellows with determinedfaces, while their companion, Tiger Cormac, a heavy, dark youth,was feared even by his own comrades for the ferocity of hisdisposition. These were the men who assembled that night underthe roof of McMurdo for the killing of the Pinkerton detective.
Their host had placed whisky upon the table, and they hadhastened to prime themselves for the work before them. Baldwinand Cormac were already half-drunk, and the liquor had broughtout all their ferocity. Cormac placed his hands on the stove for aninstant—it had been lighted, for the nights were still cold.
“That will do,” said he, with an oath.
“Ay,” said Baldwin, catching his meaning. “If he is strapped tothat, we will have the truth out of him.”
“We’ll have the truth out of him, never fear,” said McMurdo. Hehad nerves of steel, this man; for though the whole weight of theaffair was on him his manner was as cool and unconcerned as ever.
The others marked it and applauded.
“You are the one to handle him,” said the Boss approvingly. “Nota warning will he get till your hand is on his throat. It’s a pity thereare no shutters to your windows.”
McMurdo went from one to the other and drew the curtainstighter. “Sure no one can spy upon us now. It’s close upon the hour.”
“Maybe he won’t come. Maybe he’ll get a sniff of danger,” saidthe secretary.
“He’ll come, never fear,” McMurdo answered. “He is as eager tocome as you can be to see him. Hark to that!”
They all sat like wax figures, some with their glasses arrestedhalfway to their lips. Three loud knocks had sounded at the door.
“Hush!” McMurdo raised his hand in caution. An exulting glancewent round the circle, and hands were laid upon their weapons.
“Not a sound, for your lives!” McMurdo whispered, as he wentfrom the room, closing the door carefully behind him.
With strained ears the murderers waited. They counted thesteps of their comrade down the passage. Then they heard himopen the outer door. There were a few words as of greeting. Thenthey were aware of a strange step inside and of an unfamiliar voice.
An instant later came the slam of the door and the turning of thekey in the lock. Their prey was safe within the trap. Tiger Cormaclaughed horribly, and Boss McGinty clapped his great hand acrosshis mouth.
“Be quiet, you fool!” he whispered. “You’ll be the undoing of usyet!”