She must have time to think it over, she said, and to make inquiriesabout the people involved--some of whom apparently she knew. Shewould meet Peter again the next day, and in a more private placethan here. She named a spot in the city park which would be easy tofind, and yet sufficiently remote for a quiet conference.
Section 40
Peter had been made so bold by Nell's flattery and what she had saidabout his importance, that he did not go back to McGivney to takehis second scolding about the Lackman case. He was getting tired ofMcGivney's scoldings; if McGivney didn't like his work, let McGivneygo and be a Red for a while himself. Peter walked the streets allday and a part of the night, thinking about Nell, and thrilling overthe half promises she had made him.
They met next day in the park. No one was following them, and theyfound a solitary place, and Nell let him kiss her several times, andin between the kisses she unfolded to him a terrifying plan. Peterhad thought that he was something of an intriguer, but hisself-esteem shriveled to nothingness in the presence of the superbconception which had come to ripeness in the space of twenty-fourhours in the brain of Nell Doolin, alias Edythe Eustace.
Peter had been doing the hard work, and these big fellows had beenusing him, handing him a tip now and then, and making fortunes outof the information he brought them. McGivney had let the cat out ofthe bag in this case of Lackman; you might be sure they had beenmaking money, big money, out of all the other cases. What Peter mustdo was to work up something of his own, and get the real money, andmake himself one of the big fellows. Peter had the facts, he knewthe people; he had watched in the Goober case exactly how a"frame-up" was made, and now he must make one for himself, and onethat would pay. It was a matter of duty to rid the country of allthese Reds; but why should he not have the money as well?
Nell had spent the night figuring over it, trying to pick out theright person. She had hit on old "Nelse" Ackerman, the banker.Ackerman was enormously and incredibly wealthy; he was called thefinancial king of American City. Also he was old, and Nell happenedto know he was a coward; he was sick in bed just now, and when a manis sick he is still more of a coward. What Peter must do was todiscover some kind of a bomb-plot against old "Nelse" Ackerman.Peter might talk up the idea among some of his Reds and get theminterested in it, or he might frame up some letters to be found uponthem, and hide some dynamite in their rooms. When the plot wasdiscovered, it would make a frightful uproar, needless to say; theking would hear of it, and of Peter's part as the discoverer of it,and he would unquestionably reward Peter. Perhaps Peter mightarrange to be retained as a secret agent to protect the king fromthe Reds. Thus Peter would be in touch with real money, and mighthire Guffey and McGivney, instead of their hiring him.
If Peter had stood alone, would he have dared so perilous a dream asthis? Or was he a "piker"; a little fellow, the victim of his ownfears and vanities? Anyhow, Peter was not alone; he had Nell, and itwas necessary that he should pose before Nell as a bold anddesperate blade. Just as in the old days in the Temple, it wasnecessary that Peter should get plenty of money, in order to takeNell away from another man. So he said all right, he would go in onthat plan; and proceeded to discuss with Nell the variouspersonalities he might use.
The most likely was Pat McCormick. "Mac," with his grim, set faceand his silent, secretive habits, fitted perfectly to Peter'sconception of a dynamiter. Also "Mac" was Peter's personal enemy;"Mac" had just returned from his organizing trip in the oil fields,and had been denouncing Peter and gossiping about him in the variousradical groups. "Mac" was the most dangerous Red of them all! Hemust surely be one of the dynamiters!
Another likely one was Joe Angell, whom Peter had met at a recentgathering of Ada Ruth's "Anti-conscription League." People madejokes about this chap's name because he looked the part, with hisbright blue eyes that seemed to have come out of heaven, and hisbright golden hair, and even the memory of dimples in his cheeks.But when Joe opened his lips, you discovered that he was an angelfrom the nether regions. He was the boldest and most defiant of allthe Reds that Peter had yet come upon. He had laughed at Ada Ruthand her sentimental literary attitude toward the subject of thedraft. It wasn't writing poems and passing resolutions that waswanted; it wasn't even men who would refuse to put on the uniform,but men who would take the guns that were offered to them, and drillthemselves, and at the proper time face about and use the guns inthe other direction. Agitating and organizing were all right intheir place, but now, when the government dared challenge theworkers and force them into the army, it was men of action that wereneeded in the radical movement.
Joe Angell had been up in the lumber country, and could tell whatwas the mood of the real workers, the "huskies" of the timberlands.Those fellows weren't doing any more talking; they had their secretcommittees that were ready to take charge of things as soon as theyhad put the capitalists and their governments out of business.Meantime, if there was a sheriff or prosecuting attorney that gottoo gay, they would "bump him off." This was a favorite phrase of"Blue-eyed Angell." He would use it every half hour or so as he toldabout his adventures. "Yes," he would say; "he got gay, but webumped him off all right."
Section 41
So Nell and Peter settled down to work out the details of their"frame-up" on Joe Angell and Pat McCormick. Peter must get a bunchof them together and get them to talking about bombs and killingpeople; and then he must slip a note into the pockets of all whoshowed interest, calling them to meet for a real conspiracy. Nellwould write the notes, so that no one could fasten the job ontoPeter. She pulled out a pencil and a little pad from her handbag,and began: "If you really believe in a bold stroke for the workers'rights, meet me--" And then she stopped. "Where?"
"In the studios," put in Peter.
And Nell wrote, "In the studios. Is that enough?"
"Room 17." Peter knew that this was the room of Nikitin, a Russianpainter who called himself an Anarchist.
So Nell wrote "Room 17," and after further discussion she added:"Tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. No names and no talk. Action!"This time was set because Peter recollected that there was to be agathering of the "wobblies" in their headquarters this very evening.It was to be a business meeting, but of course these fellows nevergot together very long without starting the subject of "tactics."There was a considerable element among them who were dissatisfiedwith what they called the "supine attitude" of the organization, andwere always arguing for action. Peter was sure he would be able toget some of them interested in the idea of a dynamite conspiracy.
As it turned out, Peter had no trouble at all; the subject wasstarted without his having to put in a word. Were the workers to bedriven like sheep to the slaughter, and the "wobblies" not to makeone move? So asked the "Blue-eyed Angell," vehemently, and addedthat if they were going to move, American City was as good a placeas any. He had talked with enough of the rank and file to realizethat they were ready for action; all they needed was a battle-cryand an organization to guide them.
Henderson, the big lumber-jack, spoke up. That was just the trouble;you couldn't get an organization for such a purpose. The authoritieswould get spies among you, they would find out what you were doing,and drive you underground.
"Well," cried Joe, "we'll go underground!"
"Yes," agreed the other, "but then your organization goes bust.Nobody knows who to trust, everybody's accusing the rest of being aspy."
"Hell!" said Joe Angell. "I've been in jail for the movement, I'lltake my chances of anybody's calling me a spy. What I'm not going todo is to sit down and see the workers driven to hell, because I'm sodamn careful about my precious organization."
When others objected, Angell rushed on still more vehemently.Suppose they did fail in a mass-uprising, suppose they were drivento assassination and terrorism? At least they would teach theexploiters a lesson, and take a little of the joy out of theirlives.
Peter thought it would be a good idea for him to pose as aconservative just now. "Do you really think the capitalists wouldgive u
p from fear?" he asked.
And the other answered: "You bet I do! I tell you if we'd made itunderstood that every congressman who voted this country into warwould be sent to the front trenches, our country would still be atpeace."
"But," put in Peter, deftly, "it ain't the congressmen. It's peoplehigher up than them."
"You bet," put in Gus, the Swedish sailor. "You bet you! I name youone dozen big fellows in dis country--you make it clear if we don'tget peace dey all get killed--we get peace all right!"
So Peter had things where he wanted them. "Who are those fellows?"he asked, and got the crowd arguing over names. Of course theydidn't argue very long before somebody mentioned "Nelse" Ackerman,who was venomously hated by the Reds because he had put up a hundredthousand dollars of the Anti-Goober fund. Peter pretended not toknow about Nelse; and Jerry Rudd, a "blanket-stiff" whose head wasstill sore from being cracked open in a recent harvesters' strike,remarked that by Jesus, if they'd put a few fellows like that in thetrenches, there'd be some pacifists in Ameriky sure enough allright.
It seemed almost as if Joe Angell had come there to back up Peter'spurpose. "What we want," said he, "is a few fellows to fight as hardfor themselves as they fight for the capitalists."
"Yes," assented Henderson, grimly. "We're all so good--we wait tillour masters tell us we can kill."
That was the end of the discussion; but it seemed quite enough toPeter. He watched his chance, and one by one he managed to slip hislittle notes into the coat-pockets of Joe Angell, Jerry Rudd,Henderson, and Gus, the sailor. And then Peter made his escape,trembling with excitement. The great dynamite conspiracy was on!"They must be got rid of!" he was whispering to himself. "They mustbe got rid of by any means! It's my duty I'm doing."
Section 42
Peter had an appointment to meet Nell on a street corner at eleveno'clock that same night, and when she stepped off the street-car,Peter saw that she was carrying a suit-case. "Did you get your jobdone?" she asked quickly, and when Peter answered in theaffirmative, she added: "Here's your bomb!"
Peter's jaw fell. He looked so frightened that she hastened toreassure him. It wouldn't go off; it was only the makings of a bomb,three sticks of dynamite and some fuses and part of a clock. Thedynamite was wrapped carefully, and there was no chance of itsexploding--if he didn't drop it! But Peter wasn't much consoled. Hehad had no idea that Nell would go so far, or that he would actuallyhave to handle dynamite. He wondered where and how she had got it,and wished to God he was out of this thing.
But it was too late now, of course. Said Nell: "You've got to getthis suit-case into the headquarters, and you've got to get it therewithout anybody seeing you. They'll be shut up pretty soon, won'tthey?"
"We locked up when we left," said Peter.
"And who has the key?"
"Grady, the secretary."
"There's no way you can get it?"
"I can get into the room," said Peter, quickly. "There's a fireescape, and the window isn't tight. Some of us that know about ithave got in that way when the place was locked."
"All right," said Nell. "We'll wait a bit; we mustn't take chancesof anyone coming back."
They started to stroll along the street, Nell still carrying thesuit-case, as if distrusting the state of Peter's nerves, Meantimeshe explained, "I've got two pieces of paper that we've got to plantin the room. One's to be torn up and thrown into the trash-basket.It's supposed to be part of a letter about some big plan that's tobe pulled off, and it's signed `Mac.' That's for McCormick, ofcourse. I had to type it, not having any sample of his handwriting.The other piece is a drawing; there's no marks to show what it is,but of course the police'll soon find out. It's a plan ofold Ackerman's home, and there's a cross mark showing hissleeping-porch. Now, what we want to do is to fix this on McCormick.Is there anything in the room that belongs to him?"
Peter thought, and at last remembered that in the bookshelves weresome books which had been donated by McCormick, and which had hisname written in. That was the trick! exclaimed Nell. They would hidethe paper in one of these books, and when the police made a thoroughsearch they would find it. Nell asked what was in these books, andPeter thought, and remembered that one was a book on sabotage. "Putthe paper in that," said Nell. "When the police find it, thenewspapers'll print the whole book."
Peter's knees were trembling so that he could hardly walk, but hekept reminding himself that he was a "he-man," a 100% American, andthat in these times of war every patriot must do his part. His partwas to help rid the country of these Reds, and he must not flinch.They made their way to the old building in which the I. W. W.headquarters were located, and Peter climbed up on the fence andswung over to the fire-escape, and Nell very carefully handed thesuit-case to him, and Peter opened the damaged window and slippedinto the room.
He knew just where the cupboard was, and quickly stored thesuit-case in the corner, and piled some odds and ends of stuff infront of it, and threw an old piece of canvas over it. He took outof his right-hand pocket a typewritten letter, and tore it intosmall pieces and threw them into the trash-basket. Then he took outof his left-hand pocket the other paper, with the drawing ofAckerman's house. He went to the bookcase and with shaking fingersstruck a match, picked out the little redbound book entitled"Sabotage," and stuck the paper inside, and put the book back inplace. Then he climbed out on the fire-escape and dropped to theground, jumped over the fence, and hurried down the alley to whereNell was waiting for him.
"It's for my country!" he was whispering to himself.
Section 43
The job was now complete, except for getting McCormick to therendezvous next morning. Nell had prepared and would mail in thepostoffice a special delivery letter addressed to McCormick's home.This would be delivered about seven o'clock in the morning, andinside was a typewritten note, as follows:
"Mac: Come to Room 17 of the studios at eight in the morning. Veryimportant. Our plan is all ready, my part is done. Joe."
Nell figured that McCormick would take this to be a message fromAngell. He wouldn't know what it was about, but he'd be all the morecertain to come and find out. The essential thing was that the raidby the detectives must occur the very minute the conspirators gottogether, for as soon as they compared notes they would becomesuspicious, and might scatter at once. McGivney must have his menready; he must be notified and have plenty of time to get themready.
But there was a serious objection to this--if McGivney had time, hewould demand a talk with Peter, and Nell was sure that Petercouldn't stand a cross-questioning at McGivney's hands. Peter,needless to say, agreed with her; his heart threatened to collapseat the thought of such an ordeal. What Peter really wanted to do wasto quit the whole thing right there and then; but he dared not sayso, he dared not face the withering scorn of his confederate. Peterclenched his hands and set his teeth, and when he passed a streetlight he turned his face away, so that Nell might not read thehumiliating terror written there. But Nell read it all the same;Nell believed that she was dealing with a quivering, pasty-facedcoward, and proceeded on that basis; she worked out the plans, shegave Peter his orders, and she stuck by him to see that he carriedthem out.
Peter had McGivney's home telephone number, which he was onlysupposed to use in the most desperate emergency. He was to use itnow, and tell McGivney that he had just caught some members of theI. W. W., with Pat McCormick as their leader, preparing to blow upsome people with dynamite bombs. They had some bombs in a suit-casein their headquarters, and were just starting out with other bombsin their pockets. Peter must follow them, otherwise he would losethem, and some crime might be committed before he could interfere.McGivney must have his agents ready with automobiles to swoop downupon any place that Peter indicated. Peter would follow up theconspirators, and phone McGivney again at the first opportunity hecould find.
Nell was especially insistent that when Peter spoke to McGivney hemust have only a moment to spare, no time for questions, and he mustnot stop to answer any. He must be in a st
ate of tremblingexcitement; and Peter was sure that would be very easy! He rehearsedover to Nell every word he must say, and just how he was to cutshort the conversation and hang up the receiver. Then he went intoan all night drug-store just around the corner from theheadquarters, and from a telephone booth called McGivney's home.
It was an apartment house, and after some delay Peter heard thevoice of his employer, surly with sleep. But Peter waked him upquickly. "Mr. McGivney, there's a dynamite plot!"
"_What_?"
"I. W. W. They've got bombs in a suit-case! They're starting off toblow somebody up tonight."
"By God! What do you mean? Who?"
"I dunno yet. I only heard part of it, and I've got to go. They'restarting, I've got to follow them. I may lose them and it'll be toolate. You hear me, I've got to follow them!"
"I hear you. What do you want me to do?"
"I'll phone you again the first chance I get. You have your menready, a dozen of them! Have automobiles, so you can come quick. Youget me?"
"Yes, but--"
"I can't talk any more, I may lose them, I haven't a second! You beat your phone, and have your men ready--everything ready. You getme?"
"Yes, but listen, man! You sure you're not mistaken?"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure!" cried Peter, his voice mounting in excitement."They've got the dynamite, I tell you--everything! It's a man namedNelse."
"Nelse what?"
"The man they're going to kill. I've got to go now, you get ready.Good-bye!" And Peter hung up the receiver. He had got so excitedover the part he was playing that he sprang up and ran out of thedrug-store, as if he really had to catch up with some I. W. W.conspirators carrying a dynamite bomb!
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