100%: the Story of a Patriot

by Upton Sinclair

  She was alone in the house all day with Peter, and she got to seemmore and more pretty as he got to know her better. Also it wasevident that she liked Peter more and more as Peter played his game.Peter revealed himself as deeply sympathetic, and a quick convert tothe cause; he saw everything that Jennie explained to him, he washorrified at the horrible stories, he was ready to help her end theEuropean war by starting a revolution among the working people ofAmerican City. Also, he told her about himself, and awakened hersympathy for his harsh life, his twenty years of privation andservitude; and when she wept over this, Peter liked it. It was fine,somehow, to have her so sorry for him; it helped to compensate himfor the boredom of hearing her be sorry for the whole working class.

  Peter didn't know whether Jennie had learned about his bad record,but he took no chances--he told her everything, and thus took thesting out of it. Yes, he had been trapped into evil ways, but itwasn't his fault, he hadn't known any better, he had been a pitifulvictim of circumstances. He told how he had been starved and drivenabout and beaten by "Old Man" Drubb, and the tears glistened inJennie's grey eyes and stole down her cheeks. He told aboutloneliness and heartsickness and misery in the orphan asylum. Andhow could he, poor lad, realize that it was wrong to help PericlesPriam sell his Peerless Pain Paralyzer? How could he know whetherthe medicine was any good or not--he didn't even know now, as amatter of fact. As for the Temple of Jimjambo, all that Peter haddone was to wash dishes and work as a kitchen slave, as in any hotelor restaurant.

  It was a story easy to fix up, and especially easy because the firstarticle in the creed of Socialist Jennie was that economiccircumstances were to blame for human frailties. That opened thedoor for all varieties of grafters, and made the child such an easymark that Peter would have been ashamed to make a victim of her, hadit not been that she happened to stand in the path of his higherpurposes--and also that she happened to be young, only seventeen,with tender grey eyes, and tempting, sweet lips, alone there in thehouse all day.

  Section 16

  Peter's adventures in love had so far been pretty much of a piecewith the rest of his life experiences; there had been hopes, andwonderful dreams, but very few realizations. Peter knew a lot aboutsuch matters; in the orphan asylum there were few vicious practiceswhich he did not witness, few obscene imaginings with which he wasnot made familiar. Also, Pericles Priam had been a man like thetraditional sailor, with a girl in every port; and generally inthese towns and villages there had been no place for Peter to gosave where Pericles went, so Peter had been the witness of many ofhis master's amours and the recipient of his confidences. But noneof these girls and women had paid any attention to Peter. Peter wasonly a "kid"; and when he grew up and was no longer a kid, but ayouth tormented with sharp desires, they still paid no attention tohim--why should they? Peter was nothing; he had no position, nomoney, no charms; he was frail and undersized, his teeth werecrooked, and one shoulder higher than the other. What could heexpect from women and girls but laughter and rebuffs?

  Then Peter moved on to the Temple of Jimjambo, and there adevastating experience befell him--he tumbled head over heels andagonizingly in love. There was a chambermaid in the institution, aradiant creature from the Emerald Isles with hair like sunrise andcheeks like apples, and a laugh that shook the dish-pans on thekitchen walls. She laughed at Peter, she laughed at the major-domo,she laughed at all the men in the place who tried to catch her roundthe waist. Once or twice a month perhaps she would let them succeed,just to keep them interested, and to keep herself in practice.

  The only one she really favored was the laundry deliveryman, andPeter soon realized why. This laundry fellow had the use of anautomobile on Sundays, and Nell would dress herself up to kill, androll away in state with him. He would spend all his week's earningsentertaining her at the beach; Peter knew, because she would tellthe whole establishment on Monday morning. "Gee, but I had a swelltime!" she would say; and would count the ice-creams and themerry-go-rounds and the whirly-gigs and all the whang-doodle things.She would tell about the tattooed men and the five-legged calf andthe woman who was half man, and all the while she would make thedishpans rattle.

  Yes, she was a marvelous creature, and Peter suddenly realized thathis ultimate desire in life was to possess a "swell lady-friend"like Nell. He realized that there was one essential prerequisite,and that was money. None of them would look at you without money.Nell had gone out with him only once, and that was upon the savingsof six months, and Peter had not been able to conceal the effort itcost him to spend it all. So he had been set down as a "tight-wad,"and had made no headway.

  Nell had disappeared, along with everybody else when the policeraided the Temple. Peter never knew what had become of her, but theold longings still haunted him, and he would find himselfimagining--suppose the police had got her; suppose she were in jail,and he with his new "pull" were able to get her out, and carry heraway and keep her hid from the laundry man!

  These were dreams; but meantime here was reality, here was a newworld. Peter had settled down in the home of the Todd sisters; andwhat was their attitude toward these awful mysteries of love?

  Section 17

  It had been arranged with Guffey that at the end of a week Peter wasto have a secret meeting with one of the chief detective's men. SoPeter told the girls that he was tired of being a prisoner in thehouse and must get some fresh air.

  "Oh please, Mr. Gudge, don't take such a chance!" cried Sadie, herthin, anxious face suddenly growing more anxious and thin. "Don'tyou know this house is being watched? They are just hoping to catchyou out alone. It would be the last of you."

  "I'm not so important as that," said Peter; but she insisted that hewas, and Peter was pleased, in spite of his boredom, he liked tohear her insist upon his importance.

  "Oh!" she cried. "Don't you know yet how much depends on you as awitness for the Goober defense? This case is of concern to millionsof people all over the world! It is a test case, Mr. Gudge--are theyto be allowed to murder the leaders of the working class without astruggle? No, we must show them that there is a great movement, aworld-wide awakening of the workers, a struggle for freedom for thewage slaves--"

  But Peter could stand no more of this. "All right," he said,suddenly interrupting Sadie's eloquence. "I suppose it's my duty tostay, even if I die of consumption, being shut up without any freshair." He would play the martyr; which was not so hard, for he wasone, and looked like one, with his thin, one-sided little figure,and his shabby clothes. Both Sadie and Jennie gazed at him withadmiration, and sighed with relief.

  But later on, Peter thought of an idea. He could go out at night, hetold Sadie, and slip out the back way, so that no one would see him;he would not go into crowds or brightly lighted streets, so therewould be no chance of his being recognized. There was a fellow heabsolutely had to see, who owed him some money; it was way over onthe other side of the city--that was why he rejected Jennie's offerto accompany him.

  So that evening Peter climbed a back fence and stole thru aneighbor's chicken-yard and got away. He had a fine time ducking anddodging in the crowds, making sure that no one was trailing him tohis secret rendezvous--no "Red" who might chance to be suspicious ofhis "comradeship." It was in the "American House," an obscure hotel,and Peter was to take the elevator to the fourth floor, withoutspeaking to any one, and to tap three times on the door of Room 427.Peter did so, and the door opened, and he slipped in, and there hemet Jerry McGivney, with the face of a rat.

  "Well, what have you got?" demanded McGivney; and Peter sat downand started to tell. With eager fingers he undid the amateur sewingin the lining of his coat, and pulled out his notes with the namesand descriptions of people who had come to see him.

  McGivney glanced over them quickly. "Jesus!" he said, "What's thegood of all this?"

  "Well, but they're Reds!" exclaimed Peter.

  "I know," said the other, "but what of that? We can go hear themspout at meetings any night. We got membership lists of thesedifferent organization
s. But what about the Goober case?"

  "Well," said Peter, "they're agitating about it all the time;they've been printing stuff about me."

  "Sure, we know that," said McGivney. "And the hell of a fine storyyou gave them; you must have enjoyed hearing yourself talk. But whatgood does that do us?"

  "But what do you want to know?" cried Peter, in dismay.

  "We want to know their secret plans," said the other. "We want toknow what they're doing to get our witnesses; we want to know who itis that is selling us out, who's the spy in the jail. Didn't youfind that out?"

  "N-no," said Peter. "Nobody said anything about it."

  "Good God!" said the detective. "D'you expect them to bring youthings on a silver tray?" He began turning over Peter's notesagain, and finally threw them on the bed in disgust. He beganquestioning Peter, and Peter's dismay turned to despair. He had notgot a single thing that McGivney wanted. His whole week of"sleuthing" had been wasted!

  The detective did not mince words. "It's plain that you're a boob,"he said. "But such as you are, we've got to do the best we can withyou. Now, put your mind on it and get it straight: we know who theseReds are, and we know what they're teaching; we can't send 'em tojail for that. What we want you to find out is the name of theirspy, and who are their witnesses in the Goober case, and whatthey're going to say."

  "But how can I find out things like that?" cried Peter.

  "You've got to use your wits," said McGivney. "But I'll give you onetip; get yourself a girl."

  "A girl?" cried Peter, in wonder.

  "Sure thing," said the other. "That's the way we always work. Guffeysays there's just three times when people tell their secrets: Thefirst is when they're drunk, and the second is when they're inlove--"

  Then McGivney stopped. Peter, who wanted to complete his education,inquired, "And the third?"

  "The third is when they're both drunk and in love," was the reply.And Peter was silent, smitten with admiration. This business ofsleuthing was revealing itself as more complicated and morefascinating all the time.

  "Ain't you seen any girl you fancy in that crowd?" demanded theother.

  "Well--it might be--" said Peter, shyly.

  "It ought to be easy," continued the detective. "Them Reds are allfree lovers, you know."

  "Free lovers!" exclaimed Peter. "How do you mean?"

  "Didn't you know about that?" laughed the other.

  Peter sat staring at him. All the women that Peter had ever known orheard of took money for their love. They either took it directly, orthey took it in the form of automobile rides and flowers and candyand tickets to the whang-doodle things. Could it be that there werewomen who did not take money in either form, but whose love wasentirely free?

  The detective assured him that such was the case. "They boast aboutit," said he. "They think it's right." And to Peter that seemed themost shocking thing he had yet heard about the Reds.

  To be sure, when he thought it over, he could see that it had someredeeming points; it was decidedly convenient from the point of viewof the man; it was so much money in his pocket. If women chose to bethat silly--and Peter found himself suddenly thinking about littleJennie Todd. Yes, she would be that silly, it was plain to see. Shegave away everything she had; so of course she would be a "freelover!"

  Peter went away from his rendezvous with McGivney, thrilling with anew and wonderful idea. You couldn't have got him to give up his jobnow. This sleuthing business was the real thing!

  It was late when Peter got home, but the two girls were sitting upfor him, and their relief at his safe return was evident. He noticedthat Jennie's face expressed deeper concern than her sister's, andthis gave him a sudden new emotion. Jennie's breath came and wentmore swiftly because he had entered the room; and this affected hisown breath in the same way. He had a swift impulse towards her, anentirely unselfish desire to reassure her and relieve her anxiety;but with an instinctive understanding of the sex game which he hadnot before known he possessed, he checked this impulse and turnedinstead to the older sister, assuring her that nobody had followedhim. He told an elaborate story, prepared on the way; he had workedfor ten days for a fellow at sawing wood--hard work, you bet, andthen the fellow had tried to get out of paying him! Peter had caughthim at his home that evening, and had succeeded in getting fivedollars out of him, and a promise of a few dollars more every week.That was to cover future visits to McGivney.

  Section 18

  Peter lay awake a good part of the night, thinking over this newjob--that of getting himself a girl. He realized that for some timehe had been falling in love with little Jennie; but he wanted to besane and practical, he wanted to use his mind in choosing a girl. Hewas after information, first of all. And who had the most to givehim? He thought of Miss Nebbins, who was secretary to Andrews, thelawyer; she would surely know more secrets than anyone else; butthen, Miss Nebbins was an old maid, who wore spectacles andbroad-toed shoes, and was evidently out of the question forlove-making. Then he thought of Miss Standish, a tall, blond beautywho worked in an insurance office and belonged to the SocialistParty. She was a "swell dresser," and Peter would have been glad tohave something like that to show off to McGivney and the rest ofGuffey's men; but with the best efforts of his self-esteem, Petercould not imagine himself persuading Miss Standish to look at him.There was a Miss Yankovich, one of the real Reds, who trained withthe I. W. W.; but she was a Jewess, with sharp, black eyes thatclearly indicated a temper, and frightened Peter. Also, he had asuspicion that she was interested in McCormick--tho of course withthese "free lovers" you could never tell.

  But one girl Peter was quite sure about, and that was little Jennie;he didn't know if Jennie knew many secrets, but surely she couldfind some out for him. Once he got her for his own, he could use herto question others. And so Peter began to picture what love withJennie would be like. She wasn't exactly what you would call"swell," but there was something about her that made him sure heneedn't be ashamed of her. With some new clothes she would bepretty, and she had grand manners--she had not shown the least fearof the rich ladies who came to the house in their automobiles; alsoshe knew an awful lot for a girl--even if most of what she knewwasn't so!

  Peter lost no time in setting to work at his new job. In the papersnext morning appeared the usual details from Flanders; thousands ofmen being shot to pieces almost every hour of the day and night, amillion men on each side locked in a ferocious combat that hadlasted for weeks, that might last for months. And sentimental littleJennie sat there with brimming eyes, talking about it while Peterate his oatmeal and thin milk. And Peter talked about it too; howwicked it was, and how they must stop it, he and Jennie together. Heagreed with her now; he was a Socialist, he called her "Comrade,"and told her she had converted him. Her eyes lighted up with joy, asif she had really done something to end the war.

  They were sitting on the sofa, looking at the paper, and they werealone in the house. Peter suddenly looked up from the reading andsaid, very much embarrassed, "But Comrade Jennie--"

  "Yes," she said, and looked at him with her frank grey eyes. Peterwas shy, truly a little frightened, this kind of detective businessbeing new to him.

  "Comrade Jennie," he said, "I--I--don't know just how to say it, butI'm afraid I'm falling a little in love."

  Jennie drew back her hands, and Peter heard her breath come quickly."Oh, Mr. Gudge!" she exclaimed.

  "I--I don't know--" stammered Peter. "I hope you won't mind."

  "Oh, don't let's do that!" she cried.

  "Why not, Comrade Jennie?" And he added, "I don't know as I canhelp it."

  "Oh, we were having such a happy time, Mr. Gudge! I thought we weregoing to work for the cause!"

  "Well, but it won't interfere--"

  "Oh, but it does, it does; it makes people unhappy!"

  "Then--" and Peter's voice trembled--"then you don't care the leastbit for me, Comrade Jennie?"

  She hesitated a moment. "I don't know," she said. "I hadn'tthought--"

 
; And Peter's heart gave a leap inside him. It was the first time thatany girl had ever had to hesitate in answering that question forPeter. Something prompted him--just as if he had been doing thiskind of "sleuthing" all his life. He reached over, and very gentlytook her hand. "You do care just a little for me?" he whispered.

  "Oh, Comrade Gudge," she answered, and Peter said, "Call me `Peter.'Please, please do."

  "Comrade Peter," she said, and there was a little catch in herthroat, and Peter, looking at her, saw that her eyes were cast down.

  "I know I'm not very much to love," he pleaded. "I'm poor andobscure--I'm not good looking--"

  "Oh, it isn't that!" she cried, "Oh, no, no! Why should I thinkabout such things? You are a comrade!"

  Peter had known, of course, just how she would take this line oftalk. "Nobody has ever loved me," he said, sadly. "Nobody caresanything about you, when you are poor, and have nothing to offer--"