100%: the Story of a Patriot

by Upton Sinclair

  But there was Nell, and they strolled down the street again. Theycame to a small park, and sat on one of the benches, because Peter'slegs would no longer hold him up. Nell walked about to make surethere was no one on any of the other benches; then she came back andrehearsed the next scene with Peter. They must go over it mostcarefully, because before long the time was coming when Peterwouldn't have Nell to coach him, and must be prepared to stand onhis own legs. Peter knew that, and his legs failed him. He wanted toback down, and declare that he couldn't go ahead with it; he wantedto go to McGivney and confess everything. Nell divined what wasgoing on in his soul, and wished to save him the humiliation ofhaving it known. She sat close to him on the bench, and put her handon his as she talked to him, and presently Peter felt a magic thrillstealing over him. He ventured to put his arm about Nell, to getstill more of this delicious sensation; and Nell permitted theembraces, for the first time she even encouraged them. Peter was ahero now, he was undertaking a bold and desperate venture; he wasgoing to put it thru like a man, and win Nell's real admiration."Our country's at war!" she exclaimed. "And these devils arestopping it!"

  So pretty soon Peter was ready to face the whole world; Peter wasready to go himself and blow up the king of American City with adynamite bomb! In that mood he stayed thru the small hours of themorning, sitting on the bench clasping his girl in his arms, andwishing she would give a little more time to heeding hislove-making, and less to making him recite his lessons.

  Section 44

  So the day began to break and the birds to sing. The sun rose onPeter's face gray with exhaustion and the Irish apples in Nell'scheeks badly faded. But the time for action had come, and Peter wentoff to watch McCormick's home until seven o'clock, when the specialdelivery letter was due to arrive.

  It came on time, and Peter saw McCormick come out of the house andset forth in the direction of the studios. It was too early for themeeting, so Peter figured that he would stop to get his breakfast;and sure enough "Mac" turned into, a little dairy lunch, and Peterhastened to the nearest telephone and called his boss.

  "Mr. McGivney," he said, "I lost those fellows last night, but now Igot them again. They decided not to do anything till today. They'rehaving a meeting this morning and we've a chance to nab them all."

  "Where?" demanded McGivney.

  "Room seventeen in the studios; but don't let any of your men gonear there, till I make sure the right fellows are in."

  "Listen here, Peter Gudge!" cried McGivney. "Is this straight goods?"

  "My God!" cried Peter. "What do you take me for? I tell you they'vegot loads of dynamite."

  "What have they done with it?"

  "They've got some in their headquarters. About the rest I dunno.They carried it off and I lost them last night. But then I found anote in my pocket--they were inviting me to come in."

  "By God!" exclaimed the rat-faced man.

  "We've got the whole thing, I tell you! Have you got your men ready?"

  "Yes."

  "Well then, have them come to the corner of Seventh and WashingtonStreets, and you come to Eighth and Washington. Meet me there justas quick as you can."

  "I get you," was the answer, and Peter hung up, and rushed off tothe appointed rendezvous. He was so nervous that he had to sit onthe steps of a building. As time passed and McGivney didn't appear,wild imaginings began to torment him. Maybe McGivney hadn'tunderstood him correctly! Or maybe his automobile might break down!Or his telephone might have got out of order at precisely thecritical moment! He and his men would arrive too late, they wouldfind the trap sprung, and the prey escaped.

  Ten minutes passed, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes. At last anautomobile rushed up the street, and McGivney stepped out, and theautomobile sped on. Peter got McGivney's eye, and then stepped backinto the shelter of a doorway. McGivney followed. "Have you gotthem?" he cried.

  "I d-d-dunno!" chattered Peter. "They s-s-said they were c-coming ateight!"

  "Let me see that note!" commanded McGivney; so Peter pulled out oneof Nell's notes which he had saved for himself:

  "If you really believe in a bold stroke for the workers' rights,meet me in the studios, Room 17, tomorrow morning at eight o'clock.No names and no talk. Action!"

  "You found that in your pocket?" demanded the other.

  "Y-yes, sir."

  "And you've no idea who put it there."

  "N-no, but I think Joe Angell--"

  McGivney looked at his watch. "You've got twenty minutes yet," besaid.

  "You got the dicks?" asked Peter.

  "A dozen of them. What's your idea now?"

  Peter stammered out his suggestions. There was a little grocerystore just across the street from the entrance to the studiobuilding. Peter would go in there, and pretend to get something toeat, and would watch thru the window, and the moment he saw theright men come in, he would hurry out and signal to McGivney, whowould be in a drugstore at the next corner. McGivney must keep outof sight himself, because the "Reds" knew him as one of Guffey'sagents.

  It wasn't necessary to repeat anything twice. McGivney was keyed upand ready for business, and Peter hurried down the street, andstepped into the little grocery store without being observed byanyone. He ordered some crackers and cheese, and seated himself on abox by the window and pretended to eat. But his hands were tremblingso that he could hardly get the food into his mouth; and this wasjust as well, because his mouth was dry with fright, and crackersand cheese are articles of diet not adapted to such a condition.

  He kept his eyes glued on the dingy doorway of the old studiobuilding, and presently--hurrah!--he saw McCormick coming down thestreet! The Irish boy turned into the building, and a couple ofminutes later came Gus the sailor, and before another five minuteshad passed here came Joe Angell and Henderson. They were walkingquickly, absorbed in conversation, and Peter could imagine he heardthem talking about those mysterious notes, and who could be thewriter, and what the devil could they mean?

  Peter was now wild with nervousness; he was afraid somebody in thegrocery store would notice him, and he made desperate efforts to eatthe crackers and cheese, and scattered the crumbs all over himselfand over the floor. Should he wait for Jerry Rudd, or should he takethose he had already? He had got up and started for the door, whenhe saw the last of his victims coming down the street. Jerry waswalking slowly, and Peter couldn't wait until he got inside. A carwas passing, and Peter took the chance to slip out and bolt for thedrug store. Before he had got half way there McGivney had seen him,and was on the run to the next corner.

  Peter waited only long enough to see a couple of automobiles comewhirling down the street, packed solid with husky detectives. Thenhe turned off and hurried down a side street. He managed to get acouple of blocks away, and then his nerves gave way entirely, and hesat down on the curbstone and began to cry--just the way littleJennie had cried when he told her he couldn't marry her! Peoplestopped to stare at him, and one benevolent old gentleman came upand tapped him on the shoulder and asked what was the trouble.Peter, between his tear-stained fingers, gasped: "My m-m-motherdied!" And so they let him alone, and after a while he got up andhurried off again.

  Section 45

  Peter was now in a state of utter funk. He knew that he would haveto face McGivney, and he just couldn't do it. All he wanted wasNell; and Nell, knowing that he would want her, had agreed to be inthe park at half past eight. She had warned him not to talk to asoul until he had talked to her. Meantime she had gone home andrenewed her Irish roses with French rouge, and restored her energywith coffee and cigarettes, and now she was waiting for him, smilingserenely, as fresh as any bird or flower in the park that summermorning. She asked him in even tones how things had gone, and whenPeter began to stammer that he didn't think he could face McGivney,she proceeded to build up his courage once more. She let him put hisarms about her, even there in broad daylight; she whispered to himto get himself together, to be a man, and worthy of her.

  What had he to be afraid of, anyway? Th
ey hadn't a single thing onhim, and there was no possible way they could get anything. Hishands were clean all the way thru, and all he had to do was to stickit out; he must make up his mind in advance, that no matter whathappened, he would never break down, he would never vary from thestory he had rehearsed with her. She made him go over the storyagain; how on the previous evening, at the gathering in the I. W. W.headquarters, they had talked about killing Nelse Ackerman as ameans of bringing the war to an end. And after the talk he had heardJoe Angell whisper to Jerry Rudd that he had the makings of a bombalready; he had a suit-case full of dynamite stored there in thecloset, and he and Pat McCormick had been planning to pull offsomething that very night. Peter had gone out, but had watchedoutside, and had seen Angell, Henderson, Rudd and Gus come out.Peter had noticed that Angell's pockets were stuffed, and hadassumed that they were going to do their dynamiting, so he hadphoned to McGivney from the drug-store. By this phoning he hadmissed the crowd, and then he had been ashamed and afraid to tellMcGivney, and had spent the night wandering in the park. But earlyin the morning he had found the note, and had understood that itmust have been slipped into his pocket, and that the conspiratorswanted him to come in on their scheme. That was all, except forthree or four sentences or fragments of sentences which Peter hadoverheard between Joe Angell and Jerry Rudd. Nell made him learnthese sentences by heart, and she insisted that he must not underany circumstances try to remember or be persuaded to rememberanything further.

  At last Peter was adjudged ready for the ordeal, and went to Room427 in the American House, and threw himself on the bed. He was soexhausted that once or twice he dozed; but then he would think ofsome new question that McGivney might ask him, and would start intowakefulness. At last he heard a key turn, and started up. Thereentered one of the detectives, a man named Hammett. "Hello, Gudge,"said he. "The boss wants you to get arrested."

  "Arrested!" exclaimed Peter. "Good Lord!" He had a sudden swiftvision of himself shut up in a cell with those Reds, and forced tolisten to "hard luck stories."

  "Well," said Hammett, "we're arresting all the Reds, and if we skipyou, they'll be suspicious. You better go somewhere right away andget caught."

  Peter saw the wisdom of this, and after a little thought he chosethe home of Miriam Yankovitch. She was a real Red, and didn't likehim; but if he was arrested in her home, she would have to like him,and it would tend to make him "solid" with the "left wingers." Hegave the address to Hammett, and added, "You better come as soon asyou can, because she may kick me out of the house."

  "That's all right," replied the other, with a laugh. "Tell her thepolice are after you, and ask her to hide you."

  So Peter hurried over to the Jewish quarter of the city, and knockedon a door in the top story of a tenement house. The door was openedby a stout woman with her sleeves rolled up and her arms coveredwith soap-suds. Yes, Miriam was in. She was out of a job just now,said Mrs. Yankovitch. They had fired her because she talkedSocialism. Miriam entered the room, giving the unexpected visitor acold stare that said as plain as words: "Jennie Todd!"

  But this changed at once when Peter told her that he had been to I.W. W. headquarters and found the police in charge. They had made araid, and claimed to have discovered some kind of plot; fortunatelyPeter had seen the crowd outside, and had got away. Miriam took himinto an inside room and asked him a hundred questions which he couldnot answer. He knew nothing, except that he had been to a meeting atheadquarters the night before, and this morning he had gone there toget a book, and had seen the crowd and run.

  Half an hour later came a bang on the door, and Peter dived underthe bed. The door was burst open, and he heard angry voicescommanding, and vehement protests from Miriam and her mother. Tojudge from the sounds, the men began throwing the furniture this wayand that; suddenly a hand came under the bed, and Peter was grabbedby the ankle, and hauled forth to confront four policemen inuniform.

  It was an awkward situation, because apparently these policemenhadn't been told that Peter was a spy; the boobs thought they weregetting a real dynamiter! One grabbed each of Peter's wrists, andanother kept him and Miriam covered with a revolver, while thefourth proceeded to go thru his pockets, looking for bombs. Whenthey didn't find any, they seemed vexed, and shook him and hustledhim about, and made clear they would be glad of some pretext tobatter in his head. Peter was careful not to give them such apretext; he was frightened and humble, and kept declaring that hedidn't know anything, he hadn't done any harm.

  "We'll see about that, young fellow!" said the officer, as hesnapped the handcuffs on Peter's wrists. Then, while one of themremained on guard with the revolver, the other three proceeded toransack the place, pulling out the bureau-drawers and kicking thecontents this way and that, grabbing every scrap of writing theycould find and jamming it into a couple of suit-cases. There werebooks with red bindings and terrifying titles, but no bombs, and noweapons more dangerous than a carving knife and Miriam's tongue. Thegirl stood there with her black eyes flashing lightnings, and toldthe police exactly what she thought of them. She didn't know whathad happened in the I. W. W. headquarters, but she knew thatwhatever it was, it was a frame-up, and she dared them to arresther, and almost succeeded in her fierce purpose. However, the policecontented themselves with kicking over the washtub and its contents,and took their departure, leaving Mrs. Yankovitch screaming in themidst of a flood.

  Section 46

  They dragged Peter out thru a swarming tenement crowd, and clappedhim into an automobile, and whirled him away to police headquarters,where they entered him in due form and put him in a cell. He wasuneasy right away, because he had failed to arrange with Hammett howlong he was to stay locked up. But barely an hour had passed beforea jailer came, and took him to a private room, where he foundhimself confronted by McGivney and Hammett, also the Chief of Policeof the city, a deputy district attorney, and last but most importantof all--Guffey. It was the head detective of the Traction Trust whotook Peter in charge.

  "Now, Gudge," said he, "what's this job you've been putting up onus?"

  It struck Peter like a blow in the face. His heart went down, hisjaw dropped, he stared like an idiot. Good God!

  But he remembered Nell's last solemn words: "Stick it out, Peter;stick it out!" So he cried: "What do you mean, Mr. Guffey?"

  "Sit down in that chair there," said Guffey. "Now, tell us what youknow about this whole business. Begin at the beginning and tell useverything--every word." So Peter began. He had been at a meeting atthe I. W. W. headquarters the previous evening. There had been along talk about the inactivity of the organization, and what couldbe done to oppose the draft. Peter detailed the arguments, thediscussion of violence, of dynamite and killing, the mention ofNelse Ackerman and the other capitalists who were to be put out ofthe way. He embellished all this, and exaggerated it greatly--itbeing the one place where Nell had said he could do no harm byexaggerating.

  Then he told how after the meeting had broken up he had noticedseveral of the men whispering among themselves. By pretending to begetting a book from the bookcase he had got close to Joe Angell andJerry Rudd; he had heard various words and fragments of sentences,"dynamite," "suit-case in the cupboard," "Nelse," and so on. Andwhen the crowd went out he noticed that Angell's pockets werebulging, and assumed that he had the bombs, and that they were goingto do the job. He rushed to the drug-store and phoned McGivney. Ittook a long time to get McGivney, and when he had given his messageand run out again, the crowd was out of sight. Peter was in despair,he was ashamed to confront McGivney, he wandered about the streetsfor hours looking for the crowd. He spent the rest of the night inthe park. But then in the morning he discovered the piece of paperin his pocket, and understood that somebody had slipped it to him,intending to invite him to the conspiracy; so he had notifiedMcGivney, and that was all he knew.

  McGivney began to cross-question him. He had heard Joe Angelltalking to Jerry Rudd; had he heard him talking to anybody else? Hadhe heard any of the others talking? Just what had he
heard JoeAngell say? Peter must repeat every word all over. This time, asinstructed by Nell, he remembered one sentence more, and repeatedthis sentence: "Mac put it in the `sab-cat.'" He saw the othersexchange glances. "That's just what I heard," said Peter--"just thosewords. I couldn't figure out what they meant?"

  "Sab-cat?" said the Chief of Police, a burly figure with a brownmoustache and a quid of tobacco tucked in the corner of his mouth."That means `sabotage,' don't it?"

  "Yes," said the rat-faced man.

  "Do you know anything in the office that has to do with sabotage?"demanded Guffey of Peter.

  And Peter thought. "No, I don't," he said.

  They talked among themselves for a minute or two. The Chief saidthey had got all McCormick's things out of his room, and might findsome clue to the mystery in these. Guffey went to the telephone, andgave a number with which Peter was familiar--that of I. W. W.headquarters. "That you, Al?" he said. "We're trying to find ifthere's something in those rooms that has to do with sabotage. Haveyou found anything--any apparatus or pictures, or writing--anything?"Evidently the answer was in the negative, for Guffey said: "Goahead, look farther; if you get anything, call me at the chief'soffice quick. It may give us a lead."

  Then Guffey hung up the receiver and turned to Peter. "Now Gudge,"he said, "that's all your story, is it; that's all you got to tellus?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well then, you might as well quit your fooling right away. Weunderstand that you framed this thing up, and we're not going to betaken in."