"Jack McGinty
is the boss there."
"What sort of a man is he?" McMurdo asked.
"What! have you never heard of the boss?"
"How could I have heard of him when you know that I am a stranger
in these parts?"
"Well, I thought his name was known clear across the country.
It's been in the papers often enough."
"What for?"
"Well," the miner lowered his voice--"over the affairs."
"What affairs?"
"Good Lord, mister! you are queer, if I must say it without
offense. There's only one set of affairs that you'll hear of in
these parts, and that's the affairs of the Scowrers."
"Why, I seem to have read of the Scowrers in Chicago. A gang of
murderers, are they not?"
"Hush, on your life!" cried the miner, standing still in alarm,
and gazing in amazement at his companion. "Man, you won't live
long in these parts if you speak in the open street like that.
Many a man has had the life beaten out of him for less."
"Well, I know nothing about them. It's only what I have read."
"And I'm not saying that you have not read the truth." The man
looked nervously round him as he spoke, peering into the shadows
as if he feared to see some lurking danger.
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