"I feel that his blood is on my hands," he groaned.
"Self-protection is no murder, anyhow," said McMurdo, smiling grimly.
"It's him or us.

I guess this man would destroy us all if we left him long in the valley.

Why, Brother Morris, we'll have to elect you Bodymaster yet; for you've surely saved the lodge." And yet it was clear from his actions that he thought more seriously of this new intrusion than his words would show.

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.