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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Valley of Fear"

"I
like it well," said he. "'Tis a proper place for a lad of
mettle."
Several of those who sat around heard his words and applauded
them.
"What's that?" cried the black-maned Bodymaster from the end of
the table.
"'Tis our new brother, sir, who finds our ways to his taste."
McMurdo rose to his feet for an instant. "I would say, Eminent
Bodymaster, that if a man should be wanted I should take it as an
honour to be chosen to help the lodge."
There was great applause at this. It was felt that a new sun was
pushing its rim above the horizon. To some of the elders it
seemed that the progress was a little too rapid.
"I would move," said the secretary, Harraway, a vulture-faced old
graybeard who sat near the chairman, "that Brother McMurdo should
wait until it is the good pleasure of the lodge to employ him."
"Sure, that was what I meant; I'm in your hands," said McMurdo.
"Your time will come, Brother," said the chairman. "We have
marked you down as a willing man, and we believe that you will do
good work in these parts. There is a small matter to-night in
which you may take a hand if it so please you.


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