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It may have been his guilty conscience, it may have been the reputation of the Pinkerton organization, it may have been the knowledge that great, rich corporations had set themselves the task of clearing out the Scowrers; but, whatever his reason, his actions were those of a man who is preparing for the worst. Every paper which would incriminate him was destroyed before he left the house.
"If he could get on a good trail of the Scowrers, he's ready to follow it into hell. I took his money," McMurdo grinned as he produced a wad of dollar notes, "and as much more when he has seen all my papers." "What papers?" "Well, there are no papers. But I filled him up about constitutions and books of rules and forms of membership.
In ten long years of outrage there had been no single conviction, and the only danger that ever threatened the Scowrers lay in the victim himself who, however outnumbered and taken by surprise, might and occasionally did leave his mark upon his assailants. McMurdo had been warned that some ordeal lay before him; but no one would tell him in what it consisted.
I told you that I had a store in the East before I came here. I left good friends behind me, and one of them is in the telegraph service. Here's a letter that I had from him yesterday. It's this part from the top of the page. You can read it yourself." This was what McMurdo read: How are the Scowrers getting on in your parts? We read plenty of them in the papers.
I can't believe that: he would have struck before this and wiped us all out!" "Not necessarily, Murray," the Tenant replied. "Until he became convinced that his agents, the Scowrers, could do nothing against us, he would bide his time. He sits motionless, like a spider, at the center of the web; he does little himself; his agents are numerous.
It came like that, did it?" said Holmes thoughtfully. "Well, I've no doubt it was well stage-managed." "You mean that you think there was no accident?" "None in the world." "He was murdered?" "Surely!" "So I think also. These infernal Scowrers, this cursed vindictive nest of criminals " "No, no, my good sir," said Holmes. "There is a master hand here.
We may not be as active, but we do know the old ruins better, especially the paths and hiding places of the Scowrers. These four young men you probably met last evening, but it will do no harm to introduce them again. "Birdy Edwards; Sholto Jiminez; Jefferson Burns; Murdo Olsen." "Very pleased, Tenant, gentlemen. I met all of you young men last evening and I remember you," Altamont said.
And when I have detailed those distant events and you have solved this mystery of the past, we shall meet once more in those rooms on Baker Street, where this, like so many other wonderful happenings, will find its end. The Scowrers The Man It was the fourth of February in the year 1875. It had been a severe winter, and the snow lay deep in the gorges of the Gilmerton Mountains.
They took out the two hunting rifles and the auto-carbines, and Altamont showed the young men of Murray Hughes' detail how to use them. "If you will pardon me, sir," the Tenant said to Altamont, "I think it would be a good idea if your companion went up in the flying machine and circled over us, to keep watch for the Scowrers.
In Shadwell's play of The Scowrers, an old rake thus boasts of his early exploits: "I knew the Hectors, and before them the Muns, and the Tityretu's; they were brave fellows indeed! In these days, a man could not go from the Rose Garden to the Piazza once, but he must venture his life twice, my dear Sir Willie."
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