100%: the Story of a Patriot

by Upton Sinclair

  "I tell you, that isn't it!" she insisted. "Please don't think that!You are a hero. You have sacrificed for the cause, and you are goingon and become a leader."

  "I hope so," said Peter, modestly. "But then, what is it, ComradeJennie? Why don't you care for me?"

  She looked up at him, and their eyes met, and with a little sob inher voice she answered, "I'm not well, Comrade Peter. I'm of no use;it would be wicked for me to marry."

  Somewhere back in the depths of Peter, where his inner self wascrouching, it was as if a sudden douche of ice-cold water were letdown on him. "Marry!" Who had said anything about marrying? Peter'sreaction fitted the stock-phrase of the comic papers: "This is sosudden!"

  But Peter was too clever to reveal such dismay. He humored littleJennie, saying, "We don't have to marry right away. I could wait, ifonly I knew that you cared for me; and some day, when you getwell--"

  She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid I'll never get really well.And besides, neither of us have any money, Comrade Peter."

  Ah, there it was! Money, always money! This "free love" was nothingbut a dream.

  "I could get a job," said Peter--just like any other tame andconventional wooer.

  "But you couldn't earn enough for two of us," protested the girl;and suddenly she sprang up. "Oh, Comrade Peter, let's not fall inlove with each other! Let's not make ourselves unhappy, let's workfor the cause! Promise me that you will!"

  Peter promised; but of course he had no remotest intention ofkeeping the promise. He was not only a detective, he was a man--andin both capacities he wanted Comrade Jennie. He had all the rest ofthe day, and over the addressing of envelopes which he undertookwith her, he would now and then steal love-glances; and Jennie knewnow what these looks meant, and the faint flush would creep over hercheeks and down into her neck and throat. She was really very prettywhen she was falling in love, and Peter found his new job the mostdelightful one of his lifetime. He watched carefully, and noted thesigns, and was sure he was making no mistake; before Sadie came backat supper-time he had his arms about Comrade Jennie, and waspressing kisses upon the lovely white throat; and Comrade Jennie wassobbing softly, and her pleading with him to stop had grown faintand unconvincing.

  Section 19

  There was the question of Sadie to be settled. There was a certainsevere look that sometimes came about Sadie's lips, and that causedPeter to feel absolutely certain that Comrade Sadie had no sympathywith "free love," and very little sympathy with any love save herown for Jennie. She had nursed her "little sister" and tended herlike a mother for many years; she took the food out of her mouth togive to Jennie--and Jennie in turn gave it to any wandering agitatorwho came along and hung around until mealtime. Peter didn't wantSadie to know what had been going on in her absence, and yet he wasafraid to suggest to Jennie that she should deceive her sister.

  He managed it very tactfully. Jennie began pleading again: "We oughtnot to do this, Comrade Peter!" And so Peter agreed, perhaps theyoughtn't, and they wouldn't any more. So Jennie put her hair inorder, and straightened her blouse, and her lover could see that shewasn't going to tell Sadie.

  And the next day they were kissing again and agreeing again thatthey mustn't do it; and so once more Jennie didn't tell Sadie.Before long Peter had managed to whisper the suggestion that theirlove was their own affair, and they ought not to tell anybody forthe present; they would keep the delicious secret, and it would dono one any harm. Jennie had read somewhere about a woman poet by thename of Mrs. Browning, who had been an invalid all her life, andwhose health had been completely restored by a great and wonderfullove. Such a love had now come to her; only Sadie might notunderstand, Sadie might think they did not know each other wellenough, and that they ought to wait. They knew, of course, that theyreally did know each other perfectly, so there was no reason foruncertainty or fear. Peter managed deftly to put these suggestionsinto Jennie's mind as if they were her own.

  And all the time he was making ardent love to her; all day long,while he was helping her address envelopes and mail out circularsfor the Goober Defense Committee. He really did work hard; he didn'tmind working, when he had Jennie at the table beside him, and couldreach over and hold her hand every now and then, or catch her in hisarms and murmur passionate words. Delicious thrills and rapturespossessed him; his hopes would rise like a flood-tide--but then,alas, only to ebb again! He would get so far, and every time itwould be as if he had run into a stone wall. No farther!

  Peter realized that McGivney's "free love" talk had been a cruelmistake. Little Jennie was like all the other women--her love wasn'tgoing to be "free." Little Jennie wanted a husband, and every timeyou kissed her, she began right away to talk about marriage, and youdared not hint at anything else because you knew it would spoileverything. So Peter was thrown back upon devices older than theteachings of any "Reds." He went after little Jennie, not in the wayof "free lovers," but in the way of a man alone in the house with agirl of seventeen, and wishing to seduce her. He vowed that he lovedher with an overwhelming and eternal love. He vowed that he wouldget a job and take care of her. And then he let her discover that hewas suffering torments; he could not live without her. He playedupon her sympathy, he played upon her childish innocence, he playedupon that pitiful, weak sentimentality which caused her to believein pacifism and altruism and socialism and all the other "isms" thatwere jumbled up in her head.

  And so in a couple of weeks Peter had succeeded in his purpose ofcarrying little Jennie by storm. And then, how enraptured he was!Peter, with his first girl, decided that being a detective was thejob for him! Peter knew that he was a real detective now, using thereal inside methods, and on the trail of the real secrets of theGoober case!

  And sure enough, he began at once to get them. Jennie was in love;Jennie was, as you might say, "drunk with love," and so shefulfilled both the conditions which Guffey had laid down. So Jennietold the truth! Sitting on Peter's knee, with her arms clasped abouthim, and talking about her girlhood, the happy days before hermother and father had been killed in the factory where they worked,little Jennie mentioned the name of a young man, Ibbetts.

  "Ibbetts?" said Peter. It was a peculiar name, and soundedfamiliar.

  "A cousin of ours," said Jennie.

  "Have I met him?" asked Peter, groping in his mind.

  "No, he hasn't been here."

  "Ibbetts?" he repeated, still groping; and suddenly he remembered."Isn't his name Jack?"

  Jennie did not answer for a moment. He looked at her, and their eyesmet, and he saw that she was frightened. "Oh, Peter!" she whispered."I wasn't to tell! I wasn't to tell a soul!"

  Inside Peter, something was shouting with delight. To hide hisemotion he had to bury his face in the soft white throat."Sweetheart!" he whispered. "Darling!"

  "Uh, Peter!" she cried. "You know--don't you?"

  "Of course!" he laughed. "But I won't tell. You needn't mindtrusting me."

  "Oh, but Mr. Andrews was so insistent!" said Jennie, "He made Sadieand me swear that we wouldn't breathe it to a soul."

  "Well, you didn't tell," said Peter. "I found it out by accident.Don't mention it, and nobody will be any the wiser. If they shouldfind out that I know, they wouldn't blame you; they'd understandthat I know Jack Ibbetts--me being in jail so long."

  So Jennie forgot all about the matter, and Peter went on with thekisses, making her happy, as a means of concealing his ownexultation. He had done the job for which Guffey had sent him! Hehad solved the first great mystery of the Goober case! The spy inthe jail of American City, who was carrying out news to the DefenseCommittee, was Jack Ibbetts, one of the keepers in the jail, and acousin of the Todd sisters!

  Section 20

  It was fortunate that this was the day of Peter's meeting withMcGivney. He could really not have kept this wonderful secret tohimself over night. He made excuses to the girls, and dodged thruthe chicken-yard as before, and made his way to the American House.As he walked, Peter's mind was working busily. He had really got hisgri
p on the ladder of prosperity now; he must not fail to tightenit.

  McGivney saw right away from Peter's face that something hadhappened. "Well?" he inquired.

  "I've got it!" exclaimed Peter.

  "Got what?"

  "The name of the spy in the jail."

  "Christ! You don't mean it!" cried the other.

  "No doubt about it," answered Peter.

  "Who is he?"

  Peter clenched his hands and summoned his resolution. "First," hesaid, "you and me got to have an understanding. Mr. Guffey said Iwas to be paid, but he didn't say how much, or when."

  "Oh, hell!" said McGivney. "If you've got the name of that spy, youdon't need to worry about your reward."

  "Well, that's all right," said Peter, "but I'd like to know what I'mto get and how I'm to get it."

  "How much do you want?" demanded the man with the face of a rat.Rat-like, he was retreating into a corner, his sharp black eyeswatching his enemy. "How much?" he repeated.

  Peter had tried his best to rise to this occasion. Was he notworking for the greatest and richest concern in American City, theTraction Trust? Tens and hundreds of millions of dollars they wereworth--he had no idea how much, but he knew they could afford to payfor his secret. "I think it ought to be worth two hundred dollars,"he said.

  "Sure," said McGivney, "that's all right. We'll pay you that."

  And straightway Peter's heart sank. What a fool he had been! Whyhadn't he had more courage, and asked for five hundred dollars? Hemight even have asked a thousand, and made himself independent forlife!

  "Well," said McGivney, "who's the spy?"

  Peter made an agonizing, effort, and summoned yet more nerve."First, I got to know, when do I get that money?"

  "Oh, good God!" said McGivney. "You give us the information, andyou'll get your money all right. What kind of cheap skates do youtake us for?"

  "Well, that's all right," said Peter. "But you know, Mr. Guffeydidn't give me any reason to think he loved me. I still can hardlyuse this wrist like I used to."

  "Well, he was trying to get some information out of you," saidMcGivney. "He thought you were one of them dynamiters--how could youblame him? You give me the name of that spy, and I'll see you getyour money."

  But still Peter wouldn't yield. He was afraid of the rat-facedMcGivney, and his heart was thumping fast, but he stood his ground."I think I ought to see that money," he said, doggedly.

  "Say, what the hell do you take me for?" demanded the detective."D'you suppose I'm going to give you two hundred dollars and thenhave you give me some fake name and skip?"

  "Oh, I wouldn't do that!" cried Peter.

  "How do I know you wouldn't?"

  "Well, I want to go on working for you."

  "Sure, and we want you to go on working for us. This ain't the lastsecret we'll get from you, and you'll find we play straight with ourpeople--how'd we ever get anywheres otherwise? There's a milliondollars been put up to hang that Goober crowd, and if you deliverthe goods, you'll get your share, and get it right on time."

  He spoke with conviction, and Peter was partly persuaded. But mostof Peter's lifetime had been spent in watching people bargainingwith one another--watching scoundrels trying to outwit oneanother--and when it was a question of some money to be got, Peterwas like a bulldog that has got his teeth fixed tight in anotherdog's nose; he doesn't consider the other dog's feelings, nor doeshe consider whether the other dog admires him or not.

  "On time?" said Peter. "What do you mean by `on time'?"

  "Oh, my God!" said McGivney, in disgust.

  "Well, but I want to know," said Peter. "D'you mean when I give thename, or d'you mean after you've gone and found out whether hereally is the spy or not?"

  So they worried back and forth, these snarling bulldogs, growingmore and more angry. But Peter was the one who had got his teeth in,and Peter hung on. Once McGivney hinted quite plainly that the greatTraction Trust had had power enough to shut Peter in the "hole" ontwo occasions and keep him there, and it might have power enough todo it a third time. Peter's heart failed with terror, but all thesame, he hung on to McGivney's nose.

  "All right," said the rat-faced man, at last. He said it in a toneof wearied scorn; but that didn't worry Peter a particle. "Allright, I'll take a chance with you." And he reached into his pocketand pulled out a roll of bills--twenty dollar bills they were, andhe counted out ten of them. Peter saw that there was still a lotleft to the roll, and knew that he hadn't asked as much money asMcGivney had been prepared to have him ask; so his heart was sickwithin him. At the same time his heart was leaping withexultation--such a strange thing is the human heart!

  Section 21

  McGivney laid the money on the bed. "There it is," he said, "and ifyou give me the name of the spy you can take it. But you'd bettertake my advice and not spend it, because if it turns out that youhaven't got the spy, by God, I believe Ed Guffey'd twist the armsout of you!"

  Peter was easy about that. "I know he's the spy all right."

  "Well, who is he?"

  "He's Jack Ibbetts."

  "The devil you say!" cried McGivney, incredulously.

  "Jack Ibbetts, one of the night keepers in the jail."

  "I know him," said the other. "But what put that notion into yourhead?"

  "He's a cousin of the Todd sisters."

  "Who are the Todd sisters?"

  "Jennie Todd is my girl," said Peter.

  "Girl!" echoed the other; he stared at Peter, and a grin spread overhis face. "You got a girl in two weeks? I didn't know you had it inyou!"

  It was a doubtful compliment, but Peter's smile was no lessexpansive, and showed all his crooked teeth. "I got her all right,"he said, "and she blabbed it out the first thing--that Ibbetts washer cousin. And then she was scared, because Andrews, the lawyer,had made her and her sister swear they wouldn't mention his name toa soul. So you see, they're using him for a spy--there ain't aparticle of doubt about it."

  "Good God!" said McGivney, and there was genuine dismay in his tone."Who'd think it possible? Why, Ibbetts is as decent a fellow as everyou talked to--and him a Red, and a traitor at that! You know,that's what makes it the devil trying to handle these Reds--younever can tell who they'll get; you never know who to trust. How,d'you suppose they manage it?"

  "I dunno," said Peter. "There's a sucker born every minute, youknow!"

  "Well, anyhow, I see you ain't one of 'em," said the rat-faced man,as he watched Peter take the roll of bills from the bed and tuckthem away in an inside pocket.

  Section 22

  Peter was warned by the rat-faced man that he must be careful how hespent any of that money. Nothing would be more certain to bringsuspicion on him than to have it whispered about that he was "infunds." He must be able to show how he had come honestly byeverything he had. And Peter agreed to that; he would hide the moneyaway in a safe place until he was thru with his job.

  Then he in turn proceeded to warn McGivney. If they were to fireIbbetts from his job, it would certainly cause talk, and mightdirect suspicion against Peter. McGivney answered with a smile thathe wasn't born yesterday. They would "promote" Jack Ibbetts, givinghim some job where he couldn't get any news about the Goober case;then, after a bit, they would catch him up on some mistake, or gethim into some trouble, and fire him.

  At this meeting, and at later meetings, Peter and the rat-faced mantalked out every aspect of the Goober case, which was becoming moreand more complicated, and bigger as a public issue. New people werecontinually being involved, and new problems continually arising; itwas more fascinating than a game of chess. McGivney had spoken theliteral truth when he said that the big business interests ofAmerican City had put up a million dollars to hang Goober and hiscrowd. At the very beginning there had been offered seventeenthousand dollars in rewards for information, and these rewardsnaturally had many claimants. The trouble was that people who wantedthis money generally had records that wouldn't go well before ajury; the women nearly always turned out to be pro
stitutes, and themen to be ex-convicts, forgers, gamblers, or what not. Sometimesthey didn't tell their past records until the other side unearthedthem, and then it was necessary to doctor court records, and pullwires all over the country.

  There were a dozen such witnesses as this in the Goober case. Theyhad told their stories before the grand jury, and innumerable flawsand discrepancies had been discovered, which made more work andtrouble for Guffey and his lieutenants. Thru a miserable mischanceit happened that Jim Goober and his wife had been watching theparade from the roof of a building a couple of miles away, at thevery hour when they were accused of having planted the suit-casewith the bomb in it. Somebody had taken a photograph of the paradefrom this roof, which showed both Goober and his wife looking over,and also a big clock in front of a jewelry store, plainly indicatingthe very minute. Fortunately the prosecution got hold of thisphotograph first; but now the defense had learned of its existence,and was trying to get a look at it. The prosecution didn't daredestroy it, because its existence could be proven; but they hadphotographed the photograph, and re-photographed that, until theyhad the face of the clock so dim that the time could not be seen.Now the defense was trying to get evidence that this trick had beenworked.

  Then there were all the witnesses for the defense. Thru anothermischance it had happened that half a dozen different people hadseen the bomb thrown from the roof of Guggenheim's Department Store;which entirely contradicted the suit-case theory upon which theprosecution was based. So now it was necessary to "reach" thesevarious witnesses. One perhaps had a mortgage on his home whichcould be bought and foreclosed; another perhaps had a wife whowanted to divorce him, and could be persuaded to help get him intotrouble. Or perhaps he was engaged in an intrigue with some otherman's wife; or perhaps some woman could be sent to draw him into anintrigue.