Peter stared at Guffey, speechless; and Guffey, for his part, took acouple of steps toward Peter, his brows gathering into a terriblefrown, and his fists clenched. In a wave of sickening horror Peterremembered the scenes after the Preparedness Day explosion. Werethey going to put him thru that again?
"We'll have a show-down, Gudge, right here," the head detectivecontinued. "You tell us all this stuff about Angell--his talk withJerry Rudd, and his pockets stuffed with bombs and all the rest ofit--and he denies every word of it."
"But, m-m-my God! Mr. Guffey," gasped Peter. "Of _course_ he'll denyit!" Peter could hardly believe his ears--that they were takingseriously the denial of a dynamiter, and quoting it to him!
"Yes, Gudge," responded Guffey, "but you might as well know thetruth now as later--Angell is one of our men; we've had him plantedon these `wobblies' for the last year."
The bottom fell out of Peter's world; Peter went tumbling heels overhead--down, down into infinite abysses of horror and despair. JoeAngell was a secret agent like himself! The Blue-eyed Angell, whotalked dynamite and assassination at a hundred radical gatherings,who shocked the boldest revolutionists by his recklesslanguage--Angell a spy, and Peter had proceeded to plant a"frame-up" on him!
Section 47
It was all up with Peter. He would go back into the hole! He wouldbe tortured for the balance of his days! In his ears rang theshrieks of ten thousand lost souls and the clang of ten thousandtrumpets of doom; and yet, in the midst of all the noise andconfusion, Peter managed somehow to hear the voice of Nell,whispering over and over again: "Stick it out, Peter; stick it out!"
He flung out his hands and started toward his accuser. "Mr. Guffey,as God is my witness, I don't know a thing about it but what I'vetold you. That's what happened, and if Joe Angell tells you anythingdifferent he's lying."
"But why should he lie?"
"I don't know why; I don't know anything about it!"
Here was where Peter reaped the advantage of his lifelong trainingas an intriguer. In the midst of all his fright and his despair,Peter's subconscious mind was working, thinking of schemes. "MaybeAngell was framing something up on you! Maybe he was fixing someplan of his own, and I come along and spoiled it; I sprung it toosoon. But I tell you it's straight goods I've given you." AndPeter's very anguish gave him the vehemence to check Guffey'scertainty. As he rushed on, Peter could read in the eyes of thedetective that he wasn't really as sure as he talked.
"Did you see that suit-case?" he demanded.
"No, I didn't see no suit-case!" answered Peter. "I don't even knowif there was a suit-case. I only know I heard Joe Angell say`suit-case,' and I heard him say `dynamite.'"
"Did you see anybody writing anything in the place?"
"No, I didn't," said Peter. "But I seen Henderson sitting at thetable working at some papers he had in his pocket, and I seen himtear something up and throw it into the trash-basket." Peter saw theothers look at one another, and he knew that he was beginning tomake headway.
A moment later came a diversion that helped to save him. Thetelephone rang, and the Chief of Police answered and nodded toGuffey, who came and took the receiver. "A book?" he cried, withexcitement in his tone. "What sort of a plan? Well, tell one of yourmen to take the car and bring that book and the plan here to thechief's office as quick as he can move; don't lose a moment,everything may depend on it."
And then Guffey turned to the others. "He says they found a book onsabotage in the book-case, and in it there's some kind of a drawingof a house. The book has McCormick's name in it."
There were many exclamations over this, and Peter had time to thinkbefore the company turned upon him again. The Chief of Police nowquestioned him, and then the deputy of the district attorneyquestioned him; still he stuck to his story. "My God!" he cried."Would you think I'd be mad enough to frame up a job like this?Where'd I get all that stuff? Where'd I get that dynamite?"--Peteralmost bit off his tongue as he realized the dreadful slip he hadmade. No one had ever told him that the suit-case actually containeddynamite! How had he known there was dynamite in it? He wasdesperately trying to think of some way he could have heard; but, asit happened, no one of the five men caught him up. They all knewthat there was dynamite in the suit-case; they knew it withoverwhelming and tremendous certainty, and they overlooked entirelythe fact that Peter wasn't supposed to know it. So close to the edgeof ruin can a man come and yet escape!
Peter made haste to get away from that danger-spot. "Does Joe Angelldeny that he was whispering to Jerry Rudd?"
"He doesn't remember that," said Guffey. "He may have talked withhim apart, but nothing special, there wasn't any conspiracy."
"Does he deny that he talked about dynamite?"
"They may have talked about it in the general discussion, but hedidn't whisper anything."
"But I heard him!" cried Peter, whose quick wits had thought up away of escape, "I know what I heard! It was just before they wereleaving, and somebody had turned out some of the lights. He wasstanding with his back to me, and I went over to the book-case rightbehind him."
Here the deputy district attorney put in. He was a young man, atrifle easier to fool than the others. "Are you sure it was JoeAngell?" he demanded.
"My God! Of course it was!" said Peter. "I couldn't have beenmistaken." But he let his voice die away, and a note of bewildermentbe heard in it.
"You say he was whispering?"
"Yes, he was whispering."
"But mightn't it have been somebody else?"
"Why, I don't know what to say," said Peter. "I thought for sure itwas Joe Angell; but I had my back turned, I'd been talking to Grady,the secretary, and then I turned around and moved over to thebook-case."
"How many men were there in the room?"
"About twenty, I guess."
"Were the lights turned off before you turned around, or after?"
"I don't remember that; it might have been after." And suddenly poorbewildered Peter cried: "It makes me feel like a fool. Of course Iought to have talked to the fellow, and made sure it was Joe Angellbefore I turned away again; but I thought sure it was him. The ideait could be anybody else never crossed my mind."
"But you're sure it was Jerry Rudd that was talking to him?"
"Yes, it was Jerry Rudd, because his face was toward me."
"Was it Rudd or was it the other fellow that made the reply aboutthe `sab-cat'?" And then Peter was bewildered and tied himself up,and led them into a long process of cross-questioning; and in themiddle of it came the detective, bringing the book on sabotage withMcCormick's name written in the fly-leaf, and with the ground planof a house between the pages.
They all crowded around to look at the plan, and the idea occurredto several of them at once: Could it be Nelse Ackerman's house? TheChief of Police turned to his phone, and called up the greatbanker's secretary. Would he please describe Mr. Ackerman's house;and the chief listened to the description. "There's a cross mark onthis plan--the north side of the house, a little to the west of thecenter. What could that be?" Then, "My God!" And then, "Will youcome down here to my office right away and bring the architect'splan of the house so we can compare them?" The Chief turned to theothers, and said, "That cross mark in the house is the sleepingporch on the second floor where Mr. Ackerman sleeps!"
So then they forgot for a while their doubts about Peter. It wasfascinating, this work of tracing out the details of the conspiracy,and fitting them together like a picture puzzle. It seemed quitecertain to all of them that this insignificant and scared little manwhom they had been examining could never have prepared so ingeniousand intricate a design. No, it must really be that some master mind,some devilish intriguer was at work to spread red ruin in AmericanCity!
Section 48
They dismissed Peter for the present, sending him back to his cell.He stayed there for two days with no one to advise him, and no hintas to his fate. They did not allow newspapers in the jail, but theyhad left Peter his money, and so on the second day he succ
eeded inbribing one of his keepers and obtaining a copy of the American City"Times," with all the details of the amazing sensation spread out onthe front page.
For thirty years the "Times" had been standing for law and orderagainst all the forces of red riot and revolution; for thirty yearsthe "Times" had been declaring that labor leaders and walkingdelegates and Socialists and Anarchists were all one and the samething, and all placed their reliance fundamentally upon oneinstrument, the dynamite bomb. Here at last the "Times" wasvindicated, this was the "Times" great day! They had made the mostof it, not merely on the front page, but on two other pages, withpictures of all the conspicuous conspirators, including Peter, andpictures of the I. W. W. headquarters, and the suit-case, and thesticks of dynamite and the fuses and the clock; also of the "studio"in which the Reds had been trapped, and of Nikitin, the Russiananarchist who owned this den. Also there were columns of speculationabout the case, signed statements and interviews with leadingclergymen and bankers, the president of the Chamber of Commerce andthe secretary of the Real Estate Exchange. Also there was atwo-column, double-leaded editorial, pointing out how the "Times"had been saying this for thirty years, and not failing to connect upthe case with the Goober case, and the Lackman case, and the case ofthree pacifist clergymen who had been arrested several days beforefor attempting to read the Sermon on the Mount at a public meeting.
And Peter knew that he, Peter Gudge, had done all this! The forcesof law and order owed it all to one obscure little secret serviceagent! Peter would get no credit, of course; the Chief of Police andthe district attorney were issuing solemn statements, taking thehonors to themselves, and with never one hint that they owedanything to the secret service department of the Traction Trust.That was necessary, of course; for the sake of appearances it had tobe pretended that the public authorities were doing the work,exercising their legal functions in due and regular form. It wouldnever do to have the mob suspect that these activities were beingfinanced and directed by the big business interests of the city. Butall the same, it made Peter sore! He and McGivney and the rest ofGuffey's men had a contempt for the public officials, whom theyregarded as "pikers"; the officials had very little money to spend,and very little power. If you really wanted to get anything done inAmerica, you didn't go to any public official, you went to the bigmen of affairs, the ones who had the "stuff," and were used to doingthings quickly and efficiently. It was the same in this business ofspying as in everything else.
Now and then Peter would realize how close he had come to ghastlyruin. He would have qualms of terror, picturing himself shut up inthe hole, and Guffey proceeding to torture the truth out of him. Buthe was able to calm these fears. He was sure this dynamiteconspiracy would prove too big a temptation for the authorities; itwould sweep them away in spite of themselves. They would have to gothru with it, they would have to stand by Peter.
And sure enough, on the evening of the second day a jailer came andsaid: "You're to be let out." And Peter was ushered thru the barreddoors and turned loose without another word.
Section 49
Peter went to Room 427 of the American House and there was McGivneywaiting for him. McGivney said nothing about any suspicion of Peter,nor did Peter say anything--he understood that by-gones were to beby-gones. The authorities were going to take this gift which thefates had handed to them on a silver platter. For years they hadbeen wanting to get these Reds, and now magically and incredibly,they had got them!
"Now, Gudge," said McGivney, "here's your story. You've beenarrested on suspicion, you've been cross-questioned and put thru thethird degree, but you succeeded in satisfying the police that youdidn't know anything about it, and they've released you. We'vereleased a couple of others at the same time, so's to cover you allright; and now you're to go back and find out all you can about theReds, and what they're doing, and what they're planning. They'reshouting, of course, that this is a `frame-up.' You must find outwhat they know. You must be careful, of course--watch every step youtake, because they'll be suspicious for a while. We've been to yourroom and turned things upside down a bit, so that will help to makeit look all right."
Peter sallied forth; but he did not go to see the Reds immediately.He spent an hour dodging about the city to make sure no one wasshadowing him; then he called up Nell at a telephone number she hadgiven him, and an hour later they met in the park, and she flew tohis arms and kissed him with rapturous delight. He had to tell hereverything, of course; and when she learned that Joe Angell was asecret agent, she first stared at him in horror, and then shelaughed until she almost cried. When Peter told how he had met thatsituation and got away with it, for the first time he was sure thathe had won her love.
"Now, Peter," she said, when they were calm again, we've got to getaction at once. The papers are full of it, and old Nelse Ackermanmust be scared out of his life. Here's a letter I'm going to mailtonight--you notice I've used a different typewriter from the one Iused last time. I went into a typewriter store, and paid them to letme use one for a few minutes, so they can never trace this letter tome.
The letter was addressed to Nelson Ackerman at his home, and marked"Personal." Peter read:
"This is a message from a friend. The Reds had an agent in yourhome. They drew a plan of your house. The police are hiding thingsfrom you, because they can't get the truth, and don't want you toknow they are incompetent. There is a man who discovered all thisplot, and you should see him. They won't let you see him if they canhelp it. You should demand to see him. But do not mention thisletter. If you do not get to the right man, I will write you again.If you keep this a secret, you may trust me to help you to the end.If you tell anybody, I will be unable to help you."
"Now," said Nell, "when he gets that letter he'll get busy, andyou've got to know what to do, because of course everything dependson that." So Nell proceeded to drill Peter for his meeting with theKing of American City. Peter now stood in such awe of her judgmentthat he learned his lessons quite patiently, and promised solemnlythat he would do exactly what she said and nothing else. He reapedhis reward of kisses, and went home to sleep the sleep of the just.
Next morning Peter set out to do some of his work for McGivney, sothat McGivney would have no ground for complaint. He went to seeMiriam Yankovich, and this time Miriam caught him by his two handsand wrung them, and Peter knew that he had atoned for his crimeagainst little Jennie. Peter was a martyr once more. He told how hehad been put thru the third degree; and she told how the water fromthe washtub had leaked thru the ceiling, and the plaster had fallen,and ruined the dinner of a poor workingman's family.
Also, she told him all about the frame-up as the Reds saw it.Andrews, the lawyer, was demanding the right to see the prisoners,but this was refused, and they were all being held without bail. Onthe previous evening Miriam had attended a gathering at Andrews'home, at which the case was talked out. All the I. W. W.'s declaredthat the thing was the rankest kind of frame-up; the notes wereobviously fake, and the dynamite had undoubtedly been planted by thepolice. They had used it as a pretext to shut up the I. W. W.headquarters, and to arrest a score of radicals. Worst of all, ofcourse, was the propaganda; the hideous stories with which they werefilling the papers. Had Peter seen this morning's "Times?" Aperfectly unmistakable incitement to mobs to gather and lynch theReds!
Section 50
From Miriam's, Peter went back to Room 427. It was Nell's idea thatNelse Ackerman would not lose a minute next morning; and sureenough, Peter found a note on the dressing-table: "Wait for me, Iwant to see you."
Peter waited, and before long McGivney came in and sat down in frontof him, and began very solemnly: "Now Peter Gudge, you know I'm yourfriend."
"Yes, of course."
"I've stood by you," said McGivney. "If it hadn't been for me, theboss would have had you in the hole right now, trying to sweat youinto confessing you planted that dynamite. I want you to know that,and I want you to know that I'm going to stand by you, and I expectyou to stand by me and give me a square d
eal."
"Why, sure!" said Peter. "What is it?" Then McGivney proceeded toexplain: Old Nelse Ackerman had got the idea that the police wereholding back something from him. He was scared out of his wits aboutthis case, of course. He had himself shut up in a cupboard at night,and made his wife pull down the curtains of her limousine when shewent driving. And now he was insisting that he must have a talk withthe man who had discovered this plot against him. McGivney hated totake the risk of having Peter become acquainted with anybody, butNelse Ackerman was a man whose word was law. Really, he was Peter'semployer; he had put up a lot of the money for the secret servicework which Guffey was conducting, and neither Guffey or any of thecity authorities dared try to fool him.
"Well, that's all right," said Peter; "it won't hurt for me to seehim."
"He's going to question you about this case," said McGivney. "He'sgoing to try to find out everything he can. So you got to protectus; you got to make him understand that we've done everythingpossible. You got to put us right with him."
Peter promised solemnly he would do so; but McGivney wasn'tsatisfied. He was in a state of trepidation, and proceeded to hammerand hammer at Peter, impressing upon him the importance ofsolidarity, of keeping faith with his fellows. It sounded exactlylike some of the I. W. W.'s talking among themselves!
"You may think, here's a chance to jump on us and climb out on top,but don't you forget it, Peter Gudge, we've got a machine, and inthe long run it's the machine that wins. We've broken many a fellowthat's tried to play tricks on us, and we'll break you. Old Nelsewill get what he wants out of you; he'll offer you a big price, nodoubt--but before long he'll be thru with you, and then you'll comeback to us, and I give you fair warning, by God, if you play usdirty, Guffey will have you in the hole in a month or two, andyou'll come out on a stretcher."
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