Bob Grimes, with his hands on every string of the whole infamous
system . . . with his paws in every filthy graft-pot in the city! Bob
Grimes, the type and symbol of it all! Every time I see a picture of
that bulldog face, it seems to me as if I were confronting all the
horrors that I've ever fought in my life!
JULIA. It's curious to note how much less denunciation of Tammany one
hears now than in the old days.
MONTAGUE. Tammany's getting respectable.
JACK. The big interests have found out how to use it. The traction
gang, especially . . .
[He stops abruptly; a tense pause.]
LAURA. [Leaning toward him, with great earnestness.] Mr. Bullen, is
that really true?
JACK. That is true, Miss Hegan.
LAURA. Mr. Bullen, you will understand what it means to me to hear
that statement made. I hear it made continually, and I ask if it is
true, and I am told that it is a slander. How am I to know? [A pause.]
Would you be able to tell me that you know it of your own personal
knowledge?
JACK. [Weighing the words.] No; I could not say that.
LAURA. Would you say that you could prove it to a jury?
JACK. I would say, that if I had to prove it, I could get the
evidence.
LAURA. What would you say, Mr. Montague?
MONTAGUE. I would rather not say, Miss Hegan.
LAURA. Please! Please! I want you to answer me.
MONTAGUE. [After a pause.] I would say that I shall be able to prove
it very shortly.
LAURA. How do you mean?
MONTAGUE. I have been giving most of my time to a study of just that
question, and I think that I shall have the evidence.
LAURA. I see.
[She sinks back, very white; a pause; the bell rings.]
JULIA. Who can that be?
JACK. [Springing up.] Let me answer it. [Presses button; then, to
MONTAGUE.] I had no idea you were going in for that, old man.
MONTAGUE. This is the first time I have ever mentioned it to any one.
JULIA. [Rising, hoping to relieve an embarrassing situation.] I hope
this isn't any more company.
JACK. [To MONTAGUE, aside.] You must let me tell you a few things that
I know. I've been running down a little story about Grimes and the
traction crowd.
MONTAGUE. Indeed! What is it?
JACK. I can't tell it to you now . . . it would take too long. But,
gee! If I can get the evidence, it'll make your hair stand on end! It
has to do with the Grand Avenue Railroad suit.
MONTAGUE. The one that's pending in the Court of Appeals?
JACK. Yes. You see, Jim Hegan stands to lose a fortune by it, and I've
reason to believe that there's some monkey-work being done with the
Court. It happens that one of the judges has a nephew . . . a
dissipated chap, who hates him. He's an old college friend of mine,
and he's trying to get some evidence for me.
MONTAGUE. Good Lord!
JACK. And think, it concerns Jim Hegan personally.
[A knock at the door.]
JULIA. I'll go.
[Opens the door.]
HEGAN. [Without.] Good evening. Is Miss Hegan here?
LAURA. [Standing up.] Father!
JULIA. Won't you come in?
HEGAN. Thank you. [Enters; a tall, powerfully built man, with a square
jaw, wide, over-arching eyebrows, and keen eyes that peer at one; a
prominent nose, the aspect of the predatory eagle; a man accustomed to
let other people talk and to read their thoughts.] Why, Mr. Montague,
you here?
MONTAGUE. Mr. Hegan! Why, how do you do?
LAURA. We stumbled on each other by chance. Father, this is Miss
Patterson.
HEGAN. I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Patterson.
JULIA. How do you do, Mr. Hegan?
[They shake hands.]
LAURA. And Mr. Bullen.
BULLEN. [Remaining where he is; stiffly.] Good evening, Mr. Hegan.
HEGAN. Good evening, sir. [Turns to LAURA.] My dear, I finished up
downtown sooner than I expected, and I have another conference at the
house. I stopped off to see if you cared to come now, or if I should
send back the car for you.
LAURA. I think you'd best send it back.
JULIA. Why, yes . . . she only just got here.
HEGAN. Very well.
JULIA. Won't you stop a minute?
HEGAN. No. I really can't. Mr. Grimes is waiting for me downstairs.
LAURA. [Involuntarily.] Mr. Grimes!
HEGAN. Yes.
LAURA. Robert Grimes?
HEGAN. [Surprised.] Yes. Why?
LAURA. Nothing; only we happened to be just talking about him.
HEGAN. I see.
JACK. [Aggressively.] We happen to have one of his victims in the next
room.
HEGAN. [Perplexed.] One of his victims?
JULIA. [Protesting.] Jack!
JACK. A daughter of the slums. One of the helpless girls who have to
pay the tribute that he . . .
[A piercing and terrifying scream is heard off right.]
JULIA. Annie!
[Runs off.]
HEGAN. What's that?
[The screams continue.]
JULIA. [Off.] Help! Help!
[Jack, who is nearest, leaps toward the door; but, before he can reach
it, it is flung violently open.]
ANNIE. [Enters, delirious, her bare arms and throat covered with
bruises, her hair loose, and her aspect wild; an Irish peasant girl,
aged twenty.] No! No! Let me go!
[Rushes into the opposite corner, and cowers in terror.]
JULIA. [Following her.] Annie! Annie!
ANNIE. [Flings her off, and stretches out her arms.] What do you want
with me? Help! Help! I won't do it! I won't stay! Let me alone!
[Wild and frantic sobbing.]
JULIA. Annie, dear! Annie! Look at me! Don't you know me? I'm Julia!
Your own Julia! No one shall hurt you . . . no one!
ANNIE. [Stares at her wildly.] He's after me still! He'll follow me
here! He won't let me get away from him! Oh, save me!
JULIA. [Embracing her.] Listen to me, dear. Don't think of things like
that. You are in my home . . . nothing can hurt you. Don't let these
evil dreams take hold of you.
ANNIE. [Stares, as if coming out of a trance.] Why didn't you help me
before?
JULIA. Come, dear . . . come.
ANNIE. It's too late . . . too late! Oh . . . I can't forget about it!
JULIA. Yes, dear. I know . . .
ANNIE. [Seeing the others.] Who? . . .
JULIA. They are all friends; they will help you. Come, dear . . . lie
down again.
ANNIE. Oh, what shall I do?
[Is led off, sobbing.]
JULIA. It will be all right, dear.
[Exit; a pause.]
HEGAN. What does this mean?
JACK. [Promptly and ruthlessly.] It means that you have been seeing
the white- slave traffic in action.
HEGAN. I don't understand.
JACK. [Quietly, but with suppressed passion.] Tens of thousands of
girl slaves are needed for the markets of our great cities . . . for
the lumber camps of the North, the mining camps of the West, the
ditches of Panama. And every four or five years the supply must be
renewed, and so the business of gathering these girl- slaves from our
slums is one of the great industries of the city. This girl, Annie
Rogers, a decent girl from the North of Ireland, was lured into a
dance hall and drugged, and then taken to a brothel and locked in a
third-story room. They took her clothing away from her, but she broke
down her door at night and fled to the street in her wrapper and flung
herself into Miss Patterson's arms. Two men were pursuing her . . .
they tried to carry her off. Miss Patterson called a policeman . . .
but he said the girl was insane. Only by making a disturbance and
drawing a crowd was my friend able to save her. And now, we have been
the rounds . . . from the sergeant at the station, and the police
captain, to the Chief of Police and the Mayor himself; we have been to
the Tammany leader of the district . . . the real boss of the
neighborhood . . . and there is no justice to be had anywhere for
Annie Rogers!
HEGAN. Impossible!
JACK. You have my word for it, sir. And the reason for it is that this
hideous traffic is one of the main cogs in our political machine. The
pimps and the panders, the cadets and maquereaux . . . they vote the
ticket of the organization; they contribute to the campaign funds;
they serve as colonizers and repeaters at the polls. The tribute that
they pay amounts to millions; and it is shared from the lowest to the
highest in the organization . . . from the ward man on the street and
the police captain, up to the inner circle of the chiefs of Tammany
Hall . . . yes, even to your friend, Mr. Robert Grimes, himself! A
thousand times, sir, has the truth about this monstrous infamy been
put before the people of your city; and that they have not long ago
risen in their wrath and driven its agents from their midst is due to
but one single fact . . . that this infamous organization of crime and
graft is backed at each election time by the millions of the great
public service corporations. It is they . . .
MONTAGUE. [Interfering.] Bullen!
JACK. Let me go on! It is they, sir, who finance the thugs and
repeaters who desecrate our polls. It is they who suborn our press and
blind the eyes of our people. It is they who are responsible for this
traffic in the flesh of our women. It is they who have to answer for
the tottering reason of that poor peasant girl in the next room!
LAURA. [Has been listening to this speech, white with horror; as the
indictment proceeds, she covers her face with her hands; at this point
she breaks into uncontrollable weeping.] Oh! I can't stand it!
HEGAN. [Springing to her side.] My dear!
LAURA. [Clasping him.] Father! Father!
HEGAN. My child! I have begged you not to come to these places! Why
should you see such things?
LAURA. [Wildly.] Why should I not see them, so long as they exist?
HEGAN. [Angrily.] I won't have it. This is the end of it! I mean what
I say! Come home with me! . . . Come home at once!
LAURA. With Grimes? I won't meet that man!
HEGAN. Very well, then. You need not meet him. I'll call a cab, and
take you myself. Where are your things?
LAURA. [Looking to the left.] In that room.
HEGAN. Come, then.
[Takes her off.]
JACK. [Turns to MONTAGUE, and to JULIA, who appears in doorway at
right.] We gave it to them straight that time, all right!
[CURTAIN]
ACT II
Library of "The Towers," HEGAN's Long Island country place. A spacious
room, furnished luxuriously, but with good taste. A large table, with
lamp and books in the centre, and easy-chairs beside it. Up stage are
French windows leading to a veranda, with drive below; a writing desk
between the windows. Entrance right and left. A telephone stand left,
and a clock on wall right. [At rise: ANDREWS, standing by the table,
opening some letters.]
LAURA. [Enters from veranda.] Good afternoon, Mr. Andrews.
ANDREWS. Good afternoon, Miss Hegan.
LAURA. Has father come yet?
ANDREWS. No; he said he'd he back about five.
LAURA. Is he surely coming?
ANDREWS. Oh, yes. He has an important engagement here.
LAURA. He's working very hard these days.
ANDREWS. He has a good deal on his mind just now.
LAURA. It's this Grand Avenue Railroad business.
ANDREWS. Yes. If it should go against him, it would confuse his plans
very much.
LAURA. Is the matter never going to be decided?
ANDREWS. We're expecting the decision any day now. That's why he's so
much concerned. He has to hold the market, you see . . .
LAURA. The decision's liable to affect the market?
ANDREWS. Oh, yes . . . very much, indeed.
LAURA. I see. And then . . .
'Phone rings.
ANDREWS. Excuse me. Hello! Yes, this is Mr. Hegan's place. Mr.
Montague? Why, yes; I believe he's to be here this afternoon. Yes . .
. wait a moment . . . [To LAURA.] It's some one asking for Mr.
Montague.
LAURA. Who is it?
ANDREWS. Hello! Who is this, please? [TO LAURA.] It's Mr. Bullen.
LAURA. Mr. Bullen? I'll speak to him. [Takes 'phone.] Hello, Mr.
Bullen ! This is Miss Hegan. I'm glad to hear from you. How are you?
Why, yes, Mr. Montague is coming out . . . I expect him here any time.
He was to take the three- five . . . just a moment. [Looks at clock.]
If the train's on time, he's due here now. We sent to meet him. Call
up again in about five minutes. Oh, you have to see him? As soon as
that? Nothing wrong, I hope. Well, he couldn't get back to the city
until after six. Oh, then you're right near us. Why don't you come
over? . . . That's the quickest way. No; take the trolley and come
right across. I'll be delighted to see you. What's that? Why, Mr.
Bullen! How perfectly preposterous! My father doesn't blame you for
what happened. Don't think of it. Come right along. I'll take it ill
of you if you don't . . . truly I will. Yes; please do. You'll just
have time to get the next trolley. Get off at the Merrick road, and
I'll see there's an auto there to meet you. Very well. Good-bye. [TO
ANDREWS.] Mr. Andrews, will you see there's a car sent down to the
trolley to meet Mr. Bullen?
ANDREWS. All right.
[Exit.]
LAURA. [Stands by table, in deep thought, takes a note from table and
studies it; shakes her head.] He didn't want to come. He doesn't want
to talk to me. But he must! Ah, there he is. [Sound of a motor heard.
She waits, then goes to the window.] Ah, Mr. Montague !
MONTAGUE. [Enters centre.] Good afternoon, Miss Hegan.
LAURA. You managed to catch the train, I see.
MONTAGUE. Yes. I just did.
LAURA. It is so good of you to come.
MONTAGUE. Not at all. I am glad to be here.
LAURA. I just had a telephone call from Mr. Bullen.
MONTAGUE. [Starting.] From Bullen?
LAURA. Yes. He said he had to see you about something.
MONTAGUE. [Eagerly.] Where was he?
LAURA. He was at his brother's place. I told him to come here.
MONTAGUE. Oh! Is he coming?
LAURA. Yes; he'll be here soon.
M
ONTAGUE. Thank you very much.
LAURA. He said it was something quite urgent.
MONTAGUE. Yes. He has some important papers for me.
LAURA. I see he made a speech last night that stirred up the press.
MONTAGUE. [Smiling.] Yes.
LAURA. He is surely a tireless fighter.
MONTAGUE. It's such men as Bullen who keep the world moving.
LAURA. And do you agree with him, Mr. Montague?
MONTAGUE. In what way?
LAURA. That the end of it all is to be a revolution.
MONTAGUE. I don't know, Miss Hegan. I find I am moving that way. I
used to think we could control capital. Now I am beginning to suspect
that it is in the nature of capital to have its way, and that if the
people wish to rule they must own the capital.
LAURA. [After a pause.] Mr. Montague, I had to ask you to come out and
see me, because I'd promised my father I would not go into the city
again for a while. I've not been altogether well since that evening at
Julia's.
MONTAGUE. I am sorry to hear that, Miss Hegan.
LAURA. It's nothing, but it worries my father, you know. [pause.] I
thought we should be alone this afternoon, but I find that my father
is coming and... and Mr. Baker is coming also. So I mayn't have time
to say all I wished to say to you. But I must thank you for coming.
MONTAGUE. I was very glad to come, Miss Hegan.
LAURA. I can appreciate your embarrassment at being asked to . . .
MONTAGUE. No!
LAURA. We must deal frankly with each other. I know that you did not
want to come. I know that you have tried to put an end to our
friendship.
MONTAGUE. [Hesitates.] Miss Hegan, let me explain my position.
LAURA. I think I understand it already. You have found evil conditions
which you wish to oppose, and you were afraid that our friendship
might stand in the way.
MONTAGUE. [In a low voice.] Miss Hegan, I came to New York an entire
stranger two years ago, and my brother introduced me to his rich
friends. By one of them I was asked to take charge of a law case. It
was a case of very great importance, which served to give me an
opening into the inner life of the city. I discovered that, in their
blind struggle for power, our great capitalists had lost all sense of
the difference between honesty and crime. I found that trust funds
were being abused . . . that courts and legislatures were being
corrupted . . . the very financial stability of the country was being
wrecked. The thing shocked me to the bottom of my soul, and I set to
work to give the public some light on the situation. Then, what
happened, Miss Hegan? My newly made rich friends cut me a deal; they
began to circulate vile slanders about me . . . they insulted me
openly, on more than one occasion. So, don't you see?
LAURA. Yes. I see. But could you not have trusted a friendship such as
ours?
MONTAGUE. I did not dare.
LAURA. You saw that you had to fight my father, and you thought that I
would blindly take his side.
MONTAGUE. [Hesitating.] I . . . I couldn't suppose. . .
LAURA. Listen. You have told me your situation; now imagine mine.
Imagine a girl brought up in luxury, with a father whom she loves very
dearly, and who loves her more than any one else in the world.
Everything is done to make her happy . . . to keep her contented and
peaceful. But as she grows up, she reads and listens . . . and, little
by little, it dawns upon her that her father is one of the leaders in
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