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Updated: June 17, 2025
You come under lodge discipline if it goes further, and that's a heavy hand in these parts, as Brother Baldwin knows and as you will damn soon find out, Brother McMurdo, if you ask for trouble!" "Faith, I'd be slow to do that," said McMurdo. He held out his hand to Baldwin. "I'm quick to quarrel and quick to forgive. It's my hot Irish blood, they tell me.
"Folk are gettin' out of hand in these parts. It was only last week that three of our men were turned off by Foreman Blaker. It's been owing him a long time, and he'll get it full and proper." "Get what?" McMurdo whispered to his neighbour. "The business end of a buckshot cartridge!" cried the man with a loud laugh. "What think you of our ways, Brother?"
"I came down to give you a word in season, and you've had it." "I'd like to know," said McMurdo, "how you ever came to learn that I had spoken with Morris at all?" McGinty laughed. "It's my business to know what goes on in this township," said he. "I guess you'd best reckon on my hearing all that passes. Well, time's up, and I'll just say "
"If he is strapped to that, we will have the truth out of him." "We'll have the truth out of him, never fear," said McMurdo. He had nerves of steel, this man; for though the whole weight of the affair 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.
So it was that McMurdo, the self-confessed fugitive from justice, took up his abode under the roof of the Shafters, the first step which was to lead to so long and dark a train of events, ending in a far distant land. The Bodymaster McMurdo was a man who made his mark quickly. Wherever he was the folk around soon knew it.
"You're a real hand-picked one, if I am a judge." "I was thinking the same," remarked the other. "I guess we may meet again." "I'm not afraid of you, and don't you think it!" cried McMurdo. "My name's Jack McMurdo see?
Even as I wrote my farewell letters Captain Scott, Wilson, Bowers, and Nelson found time to write to my wife; Scott's letter may well be included here for it shows his thoughtfulness and consideration: "January, 25, 1911, Glacier Tongue, McMurdo Sound. "Dear Mrs.
At the sight Boss McGinty gave the roar of a wounded bear and plunged for the half-opened door. A levelled revolver met him there with the stern blue eyes of Captain Marvin of the Mine Police gleaming behind the sights. The Boss recoiled and fell back into his chair. "You're safer there, Councillor," said the man whom they had known as McMurdo.
But although the bag was empty it was suggested at the hearing that while at McMurdo Captain Gemmell might have "collected a quantity of documents from the crash site and brought them back to Auckland"; that only three of the flight documents carried on the aircraft had been produced to the Royal Commission; that it was "curious" to find that each favoured the case "which the airline was now attempting to advance"; and all this against counsel's theory that before Captain Gemmell had left Auckland on 29th November he was aware of possible problems associated with the amendment to the destination point co-ordinates.
McGinty glanced his eyes over the account of the shooting of one Jonas Pinto, in the Lake Saloon, Market Street, Chicago, in the New Year week of 1874. "Your work?" he asked, as he handed back the paper. McMurdo nodded. "Why did you shoot him?" "I was helping Uncle Sam to make dollars. Maybe mine were not as good gold as his, but they looked as well and were cheaper to make.
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