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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Valley of Fear"


"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 lawcourts? 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.


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