Air Trust

by George Allan England

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  BACK IN THE SUNLIGHT.

  Four years and two months from the day when this iniquitous verdict fellfrom the lips of the "bought and paid for" judge, a sturdily built andsquare jawed man stood on the steps of the Atlanta Penitentiary and, forthe first time in all these weary months and years, faced the sun.

  Pale with the prison-pallor that never fails to set its seal on thevictims of a diseased society, which that society retaliates upon byshutting away from God's own light and air, this man stood there on thesteps, a moment, then advanced to meet a woman who was coming toward himin the August glare. As he removed his cheap, convict-made cap, one sawhis finely shaped head, close cropped with the infamous prison badge ofservitude. Despite the shoddy miserable prison-suit that the prostitutedgovernment had given him--a suit that would have made Apollo grotesqueand would have marked any man as an ex-convict, thus heavilyhandicapping him from the start--Gabriel Armstrong's poise and strengthstill made themselves manifest.

  And the smile as they two, the woman and he, came together and theirhands clasped, lighted his pale features with a ray brighter than thatof the blistering Southern sunshine flooding down upon them both.

  "I knew you'd come, Catherine," said he, simply, his voice still thesame deep, vibrant, earnest voice which, all that time ago, had thrilledand inspired her at the hour of her great conversion. Still were hiseyes clear, level and commanding; and through his splendid body, despiteall his jailers had been able to do, coursed an abundant life and strongvitality.

  Gabriel had served his time with consummate skill, courage andintelligence. Like all wise men, he had recognized _force majeure_, andhad submitted. He had made practically no infractions of the prisonrules, during his whole "bit." He had been quiet, obedient andindustrious. His work, in the brush factory, had always been well done;and though he had consistently refused to bear tales, to spy, to informor be a stool-pigeon--the quickest means of winning favor in anyprison--yet he had given no opportunity for savagery and violence to beapplied to him. Not even Flint's eager wish to have his jailers forcehim into rebellion had succeeded. Realizing to the full the sort oftactics that would be used to break, and if possible to kill him,Gabriel had met them all with calm self-reliance and with a generalshipthat showed his brain and nerves were still unshaken. On their ownground he had met these brutes, and he had beaten them at their owngame.

  Their attempt to make a "dope" out of him had ignominiously failed. Hehad detected the morphine they had cleverly mixed with his water; and,after his drowsiness and weird dreams had convinced him of the plot, hadturned the trick on it by secretly emptying this water out and bydrinking only while in the shop, where he could draw water from thefaucet. The cell guards' intelligence had been too limited to make theminquire of the brush shop guards about his habits. Also, Gabriel, hadfeigned stupefaction while in the cell. Thus he had simulated theeffects of the drug, and had really thrown his tormentors off the track.For months and months they were convinced that they were weakening hiswill and destroying his mentality, while as a matter of fact hisreasoning powers and determination never had been more keen.

  By bathing as often as possible, by taking regular and carefully plannedcalisthenics, by reading the best books in the prison library, byattention to every rule of health within his means, and by allowinghimself no vices, not even his pipe, Gabriel now was emerging from theBastile of Capitalism in a condition of mind and body so little impairedthat he knew a few weeks would entirely restore him. The good conductallowance, or "copper," which they had been forced to allow him forexemplary conduct, had cut ten months off his sentence. And now inmid-August of 1925, there he stood, a free man again, with purpose stillunshaken and with a woman by his side who shared his high ambition andasked no better lot than to work with him toward the one greataim--Socialism!

  Now, as these two walked side by side along the sunbaked street of thesweltering Southern town, Gabriel was saying:

  "So I haven't changed as much as you expected? I'm glad of that, Kate.Only superficial changes, at most. Just give me a little time to pulltogether and get my legs under me again, and--forward march! Charge theforts! Eh, Catherine?"

  She nodded, smiling. Smiles were rare with her, now. She had grownsober and serious, in these years of work and battle and stern endeavor.The Catherine Flint of the old times had vanished--the Catherine ofcountry club days, and golf and tennis, and the opera--the Catherine ofNewport, of the horse show, of Paris, of "society." In her place nowlived another and a nobler woman, a woman known and loved the length andbreadth of the land, a woman exalted and strengthened by new, high andsplendid race-aspirations; by a vision of supernal beauty--the vision ofthe world for the workers, each for all and all for each!

  She had grown more mature and beautiful, with the passing years. No markof time had yet laid its hand upon her face or figure. Young, still--shewas now but five-and-twenty, and Gabriel only twenty-eight--she walkedlike a goddess, lithe, strong and filled with overflowing vigor. Hereyes glowed with noble enthusiasms; and every thought, every impulse andendeavor now was upward, onward, filled with stimulus and hope andcourage.

  Thus, a braver, broader and more splendid woman than Gabriel had knownin the other days of his first love for her--the days when he had wishedher penniless, the days when her prospective millions stood betweenthem--she walked beside him now. And they two, comrades, understood eachother; spoke the same language, shared the same aspirations, dreamed thesame wondrous dreams. Their smile, as their eyes met, was in itself abenediction and a warm caress.

  "Charge the forts!" Gabriel repeated. "Yes, Kate, the battle still goeson, no matter what happens. Here and there, soldiers fall and die. Evenbattalions perish; but the war continues. When I think of all thefights you've been in, since I was put away, I'm unspeakably envious.You've been through the Tawana Valley strike, the big ConsolidatedWestern lockout and the Imperial Mills massacre. You were a delegate tothe 1923 Revolution Congress, in Berlin, and saw the slaughter in Unterden Linden--helped nurse the wounded comrades, inside the Treptow Parkbarricades. Then, out in California--"

  She checked him, with a hand on his arm.

  "Please don't, Gabriel," she entreated. "What I have done has been solittle, so terribly, pitiably little, compared to what _needs_ to bedone! And then remember, too, that in and through all, this thought hasrun, like the red thread through every cable of the British navy--thethought that in my every activity, I am working against my own father,combatting him, being as it were a traitor and--"

  "Traitor?" exclaimed the man. "Never! The bond between you two isforever broken. You recognize in him, now, an enemy of all mankind.Waldron is another. So is every one of the Air Trust group--that is tosay, the small handful of men who today own the whole world andeverything in it.

  "Your father, as President of that world-corporation which potentiallycontrols two thousand millions of human beings--and which will,tomorrow, absolutely control them, is no longer any father of yours.

  "He is a world-emperor, and his few associates are princes of the royalhouse. Your life and thought have forever broken with him. No more canbonds and ties of blood hold you. Your larger duty calls to battleagainst this man. Treachery? A thousand times, no! Treason to tyrantsis obedience to God! Or, if not God, then to mankind!"

  He paused and looked at her. They had now reached a little park, somehalf mile from the grim and dour old walls of the Federal Pen. Trees andgrass and playing children seemed to invite them to stop and rest.Though strong, moreover, Gabriel had for so long been unused to walking,that even this short distance had tired him a little. And the oppressiveheat had them both by the throat.

  "Shall we sit down here and wait a little?" asked he. "Plan a little,see where we are and what's to be done next?"

  She nodded assent.

  "Of course," she said, "even if I could have got word in to you, Iwouldn't have given you our real plans."

  "Hardly!" he exclaimed. Then, coming to a fountain, they sat
down on abench close by. Nobody, they made sure, was within ear-shot.

  "Thank God," he breathed, "that you, Kate, and only you, met me as Icame out! It was a grand good idea, wasn't it, to keep my time ofliberation a secret from the comrades? Otherwise there might have been acrowd on hand, and various kinds of foolishness; and time and energywould have been used that might have been better spent in working forthe Revolution!"

  She looked at him a trifle curiously.

  "You forget," said she, "that all public meetings have been prohibited,ever since last April. Federal statute--the new Penfield Bill--'TheMuzzler' as we call it."

  "That's so!" he murmured. "I forgot. Fact is, Kate, I _am_ out of touchwith things. While you've been fighting, I've been buried alive. Now, Imust learn much, before I can jump back into the war again. And aboveall, I must lose my identity. That's the first and most essential thingof all!"

  "Of course," she assented. "They--the Air Trust World-corporation--willtrail you, everywhere you go. All this, as you know, has been providedfor. You must vanish a while."

  "Indeed I must. If they 'jobbed' me like that, in 1921, what won't theydo now in 1925?"

  "They won't ever get you, again, Gabriel," she answered, "if your witsand ours combined, can beat them. True, the Movement has been badly shotto pieces. That is, its visible organization has suffered, and it'soutlawed. But under the surface, Gabriel, you haven't an idea of itsspread and power. It's tremendous--it's a volcano waiting to burst! Letthe moment come, the leader rise, the fire burst forth, and God knowswhat may not happen!"

  "Splendid!" exclaimed Gabriel. "The battle calls me, like aclarion-call! But we must act with circumspection. The Plutes, powerfulas they now are, won't need even the shadow of an excuse to plant me forlife, or slug or shoot me. Things were rotten enough, then; but todaythey're worse. The hand of this Air Trust monopoly, grasping every lineof work and product in the world, has got the lid nailed fast. We're allslaves, every man and woman of us. Even our Socialists in Congress cando nothing, with all these muzzling and sedition and treason bills, andwith this conscription law just through. Now that the government--theAir Trust, that is to say--is running the railways and telegraphs andtelephones, a strike is treason--and treason is death! Kate, this yearof grace, 1925, is worse than ever I dreamed it would be. Oh, infinitelyworse! No wonder our movement has been driven largely underground. Nowonder that the war of mass and class is drawing near--the actual,physical war between the Air Trust few and the vast, toiling, suffering,stifling world!"

  She nodded.

  "Yes," said she, "it's coming, and soon. Things are as you say, and evenworse than you say, Gabriel. I know more of them, now, than you canknow. Remember London's 'Iron Heel?' When I first read it I thought itfanciful and wild. God knows I was mistaken! London didn't put it halfstrongly enough. The beginning was made when the National Mounted Policecame in. All the rest has swiftly followed. If you and I live five yearslonger, Gabriel, we'll see a harsher, sterner and more murderoustrampling of that Heel than ever Comrade Jack imagined!"

  "Right!" said he. "And for that very reason, Kate, I've got to go intohiding till my beard and hair grow and I can reappear as a differentman. Don't look, just now, but in a minute take a peek. Over on thatthird bench, on the other side of the park, see that man? Well, he's a'shadow.' There were three waiting for me, at the prison gates. Youcouldn't spot them, but I could. One was that Italian banana-seller thatstood at the curb, on the first corner. Another was a taxi driver. Andthis one, over there, is the third. From now till they 'get' me again,they'll follow me like bloodhounds. I can't go free, to do my work andtake part in the impending war, till I shake them. Look, now, do yousee the one I mean?"

  Cautiously the girl looked round, with casual glance as though to see alittle boy playing by the fountain.

  "Yes," she murmured. "Who is he? Do you know his name?"

  "No," answered Gabriel. "His name, no. But I remember him, well enough.He's the larger of the two detectives I knocked out, in that room inRochester. Beside his pay, he's got a personal motive in landing me backin 'stir,' or sending me 'up the escape,' as prison slang names apenitentiary and a death. So then," he added, "what's the first thing?Where shall I go, and how, to hide and metamorphose? I'm in your hands,now, Kate. More than four years out of the world, remember, makes afellow want a little lift when he comes back!"

  She smiled and nodded comprehension.

  "Don't explain, Gabriel," said she. "I understand. And I've got just theplace in mind for you. Also, the way to get there. You see, comrade,we've been planning on this release. When can you go?"

  "When? Right now!" exclaimed Gabriel, standing up. "The quicker, thebetter. Every minute I lose in getting myself ready to jump back intothe fight, is a precious treasure that can never be regained!"

  "Go, then," said she, with pride in her eyes. "I will wait here. Don'tthink of me; leave me here; I am self-reliant in every way. Go to theCuthbert House, on Desplaines Street. Everything has been arranged foryour escape. Every link in the chain is complete. Remember, we areworking more underground, now, than when you were sentenced. And ourmachinery is almost perfect. Register at the hotel and take a room for aweek. Then--"

  "Register, under my own name?" asked he.

  "Under your own name. Stay there two days. You won't be molested sosoon, and things won't be ready for you till the third day. On thatday--"

  "Well, what then?"

  "A message will come for you, that's all. Obey it. You have nothing moreto do."

  He nodded.

  "I understand," said he. "But, Kate--who's paying for all this? Not_you_? I--I can't have _you_ paying, now that every dollar you have mustbe earned by your own labor!"

  She smiled a smile of wonderful beauty.

  "Foolish, rebellious boy!" said she. "Have no fear! All expense will beborne by the Party, just as the Party paid your fine. It needs you andmust have you; and were the cost ten times as great, would bear it toget you back! Remember, Gabriel, the Party is far larger than when youwere buried alive in a cell. Even though in some ways outlawed andsuppressed, its potential power is tremendous. All it needs is theelectric spark to cause the world-shaking explosion. All that keeps usfrom power now is the Iron Heel--that, and the clutch of the Air Trustalready crushing and mangling us!

  "Go, now," she concluded. "Go, and rest a while, and wait. All shall bewell. But first, you must get back your strength completely, and findyourself, and take your place again in the ranks of the great,subterranean army!"

  "And shall I see you soon, again?" he asked, his voice trembling just alittle as their hands clasped once more, and once more parted.

  "You will see me soon," she answered.

  "Where?"

  "In a safe place, where we can plan, and work, and organize for thefinal blow! Now, you shall know no more. Good-bye!"

  One last look each gave the other. Their eyes met, more caressingly thanmany a kiss; and, turning, Gabriel took his way, alone, towardDesplaines Street.

  At the exit of the park, he looked around.

  There Catherine sat, on the bench. But, seemingly quite oblivious toeverything, she was now reading a little book. Though he lingered amoment, hoping to get some signal from her, she never stirred or lookedup from the page.

  Sighing, with a strange feeling of sudden loneliness and a vast, emptyyearning in his heart, Gabriel continued on his way, toward what? Heknew not.

  The detective on the other side of the park, no longer sat there.Somehow, somewhere, he had disappeared.