"See here, my lad," said he, "I've got a job that's worthy of you
at last. You'll have the doing of it in your own hands."
"Proud I am to hear it," McMurdo answered.
"You can take two men with you--Manders and Reilly. They have
been warned for service. We'll never be right in this district
until Chester Wilcox has been settled, and you'll have the thanks
of every lodge in the coal fields if you can down him."
"I'll do my best, anyhow. Who is he, and where shall I find
him?"
McGinty took his eternal half-chewed, half-smoked cigar from the
corner of his mouth, and proceeded to draw a rough diagram on a
page torn from his notebook.
"He's the chief foreman of the Iron Dike Company. He's a hard
citizen, an old colour sergeant of the war, all scars and
grizzle. We've had two tries at him; but had no luck, and Jim
Carnaway lost his life over it. Now it's for you to take it
over. That's the house--all alone at the Iron Dike crossroad,
same as you see here on the map--without another within earshot.
It's no good by day. He's armed and shoots quick and straight,
with no questions asked. But at night--well, there he is with
his wife, three children, and a hired help.
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