福尔摩斯探案经典:《恐怖谷》第8章Part4

"I'm not afraid of you, and don't you think it!" cried McMurdo. "My name's Jack McMurdo--see? If you want me, you'll find me at Jacob Shafter's on Sheridan Street, Vermissa; so I'm not hiding from you, am I? Day or night I dare to look the like of you in the face--don't make any mistake about that!"
There was a murmur of sympathy and admiration from the miners at the dauntless demeanour of the newcomer, while the two policemen shrugged their shoulders and renewed a conversation between themselves.
A few minutes later the train ran into the ill-lit station, and there was a general clearing; for Vermissa was by far the largest town on the line. McMurdo picked up his leather gripsack and was about to start off into the darkness, when one of the miners accosted him.
"By Gar, mate! you know how to speak to the cops," he said in a voice of awe. "It was grand to hear you. Let me carry your grip and show you the road. I'm passing Shafter's on the way to my own shack."
There was a chorus of friendly "Good-nights" from the other miners as they passed from the platform. Before ever he had set foot in it, McMurdo the turbulent had become a character in Vermissa.
The country had been a place of terror; but the town was in its way even more depressing. Down that long valley there was at least a certain gloomy grandeur in the huge fires and the clouds of drifting smoke, while the strength and industry of man found fitting monuments in the hills which he had spilled by the side of his monstrous excavations. But the town showed a dead level of mean ugliness and squalor. The broad street was churned up by the traffic into a horrible rutted paste of muddy snow. The sidewalks were narrow and uneven. The numerous gas-lamps served only to show more clearly a long line of wooden houses, each with its veranda facing the street, unkempt and dirty.
As they approached the centre of the town the scene was brightened by a row of well-lit stores, and even more by a cluster of saloons and gaming houses, in which the miners spent their hard-earned but generous wages.
"That's the Union House," said the guide, pointing to one saloon which rose almost to the dignity of being a hotel. "Jack McGinty is the boss there."
"What sort of a man is he?" McMurdo asked.
"What! have you never heard of the boss?"
"How could I have heard of him when you know that I am a stranger in these parts?"
"Well, I thought his name was known clear across the country. It's been in the papers often enough."
"What for?"
"Well," the miner lowered his voice--"over the affairs."
"What affairs?"

“我不怕你们，你们也休想吓唬我。"麦克默多大声喊道，“我的名字叫杰克·麦克默多，知道吗？你们要找我的话，可以到维尔米萨谢里登街的雅各布·谢夫特公寓去找，我决不会躲避你们，不管白天晚上，我都敢见你们这一类家伙。你们别把这弄错了。”
新来的人这种大胆的行动引起了矿工们的同情和称赞，他们低声议论，两个警察无可奈何地耸耸肩，又互相窃窃交谈。
几分钟以后，火车开进一个灯光暗淡的车站，这里有一片旷地，因为维尔米萨是这一条铁路线上最大的城镇。麦克默多提起皮革旅行包，正准备向暗处走去，一个矿工走上前和他攀谈起来。
“哎呀，老兄，你懂得怎样对这些警察讲话，"他敬佩地说，“听你讲话，真叫人痛快。我来给你拿旅行包，给你领路。我回家路上正好经过谢夫特公寓。”
他们从月台走过来时，其他的矿工都友好地齐声向麦克默多道晚安。所以，尽管还没立足此地，麦克默多这个捣乱分子已名满维尔米萨了。
乡村是恐怖的地方，可是从某种程度上来说，城镇更加令人沉闷。但在这狭长的山谷，至少有一种阴沉的壮观之感，烈焰映天，烟云变幻，而有力气和勤劳的人在这些小山上创造了当之无愧的不朽业绩，这些小山都是那些人在巨大的坑道旁堆积而成的。但城镇却显得丑陋和肮脏。来往车辆把宽阔的大街轧出许多泥泞不堪的车辙。人行道狭窄而崎岖难行，许多煤气灯仅仅照亮一排木板房，每座房屋都有临街的阳台，既杂乱又肮脏。
麦克默多和那矿工走近了市中心，一排店铺灯光明亮，那些酒馆、赌场更是灯光辉煌，矿工们则在那里大手大脚地挥霍他们用血汗挣来的钱。
“这就是工会，"这个向导指着一家高大而象旅社的酒馆说道，“杰克·麦金蒂是这里的首领。”
“他是一个怎样的人？"麦克默多问道。
“怎么！你过去没听说过首领的大名吗？”
“你知道我对此地很陌生，我怎么会听说过他呢？”
“噢，我以为工会里的人都知道他的名字呢。他的名字经常登报呢。”
“为什么呢？”
“啊，"这个矿工放低了声音，“出了些事呗。”
“什么事？”