The Machine

by Upton Sinclair

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