Dragon's Teeth
Page 75
“How do you know what I have seen?” asked Lanny, with sudden curiosity.
“That is one of the questions I ought not answer. People wear masks in my country today, and they speak in whispers, but these whispers keep going all the time, and news spreads with great speed. That is why a few pieces of flimsy paper, which cost so little in money, can do such a tremendous work; they can start a fire which will never be put out. Believe me, I know the state of mind of our workers, and what can be done. Give us what money you can spare, and go out and help raise more for us.”
“I have many rich friends”—Lanny was continuing his “spiel”—but few who would put up money for the cause we are talking about. I fear that what I give you I shall first have to earn.”
“Do what you can—that is all we ask. We balance our lives against your time.”
“This is what I will do,” said Lanny. “I will give you five hundred dollars today—it is all I can spare at the moment; but I will give you a thousand or two now and then, as I am able to earn it by selling pictures. I ask only one condition as to future amounts: I shall have to see your friend Frau Mueller and hear her tell me that this is what she wishes me to do.”
“That will be very hard to arrange, Genosse.”
“Not so hard, I believe. I am willing to come to your country. An hour ago I would have said that nothing could induce me to re-enter it; but I will come for the sake of this work.”
“Will you be permitted to enter?”
“I feel quite sure there will be no interference with my movements. I have my business, which is bevorzugt—it brings foreign exchange to your country. I have been careful to preserve my status, and I know important and influential persons. Let me add this: I am keeping your secrets, and I expect you to keep mine. You may tell Frau Mueller about me, but no one else.”
“I would not think of doing otherwise.”
“Sehr gut, abgemacht! Let Frau Mueller write me a little note; in her handwriting, which I think I know, and signed ‘Mueller.’ Let her set a time, day or night, to be at the place where she was previously to meet me. I remember it well and have no doubt that she does. Tell her to set it a week ahead, which will give me time to make my plans and arrive there. You may assure her that I will take every precaution and make certain that no one is following me. She does not have to walk or drive with me, if she thinks it unwise; it will suffice if I see her clearly, to be sure of her identity, and hear her voice say two words: ‘Trust Monck.’ Surely that is not an excessive demand.”
“Das wird sich tun lassen!” declared the visitor, with decision. “And let me add, Herr Schmidt, that I admire your way of doing business.”
XII
So here was Lanny “putting his foot in it” again; indulging that vice, displaying that weakness which was the despair of his three families; that inability to say No to persons who prated about “social justice” and promised compensation to the poor at the expense of the rich. What did Lanny really know about this tough-looking customer? He used the language of revolutionary idealism with genuine-seeming eloquence; but what did that mean? The British Museum contained thousands of books filled with such language, and any day you might see bespectacled individuals, drably dressed and in need of haircuts, poring over these volumes, storing these ideas in their minds. They were repeated in thousands of pamphlets which might be bought for a few pence at bookstalls in working-class districts. Anybody could learn this lingo—just as anybody could learn to make explosives and to construct bombs!
Lanny argued the question with his wife and his mother—a silent, mental argument as he drove away from the redezvous in Limehouse. Lanny wasn’t at all sure of his own position, and was exposed to the assaults of these two persons and others who had claims upon him: Irma’s mother, Emily Chattersworth, Sophie, Margy, all the other fashionable friends. “Why on earth should you give your trust to this man?” they would demand. “He says he isn’t a terrorist; but what a small lie that would seem to him if he was! You say that Trudi Schultz is a Socialist; but a year and several months have passed since you saw her, and how do you know she hasn’t changed under the stress of persecution? You say you wouldn’t die of grief if they made a bomb and killed Hitler; but would you be prepared to have the Gestapo wring the truth out of them, and have the newspapers of the whole world publish the story that the grandson of Budd Gunmakers, otherwise known as Mr. Irma Barnes, had put up the money for the bomb? And what do you think will be our feelings when we are named as the mother, the wife, the mother-in-law, the friend, of this starry-eyed comrade of assassins? Have the rich no rights that a young Pink is bound to respect?”
Thus the ladies who surrounded Lanny; and then the men, better informed as to politics, would take up the argument. “Even granting that this powerful self-educated sailor or roustabout who calls himself your ‘Genosse,’ your devoted comrade in Socialism, is really what you believe, what then? Maybe he will be the Ebert of the coming revolution, but again, maybe he’ll be the Kerensky—the Socialist lawyer who took power in Russia, but couldn’t hold it and was ousted by the Bolsheviks. Are you prepared to see that pattern repeated in Germany? If so, let us know, so that we may understand what sort of son, or half-brother, or in-law we have got!”
All this clamor, this tumult in Lanny’s mind while he drove to the fashionable hotel where he had stayed on various occasions. It was after banking-hours, but the hotel management knew that his check was good and had no hesitation in handing him out ten ten-pound and two one-pound banknotes. From there he went to a near-by establishment which offered European and American currencies at a slight discount, and changed the notes for twelve one-hundred-mark and five ten-mark notes. With these rolled up and safely stowed in his breast pocket he went for a stroll along the Strand, where presently he was approached by a roughly dressed working-man who walked by his side and might have been saying: “Please, Mister, will yer give a poor bloke tuppence for a bite to eat?”—but he wasn’t. Lanny slipped him something which might have been a pack of cigarettes, but wasn’t. Genosse Monck presumably set out for Germany, and Lanny set out for the nearest art dealer’s, so that he would be able to say to his wife with perfect truth: “Well, I saw another Sir Joshua, and it can be bought for something less than ten thousand pounds.”
Buy Wide Is the Gate Now!
About the Author
Upton Sinclair (1878–1968) was a Pulitzer Prize–winning author, activist, and politician whose novel The Jungle (1906) led to the passage of the Federal Meat Inspection Act and the Pure Food and Drug Act. Born into an impoverished family in Baltimore, Maryland, Sinclair entered City College of New York five days before his fourteenth birthday. He wrote dime novels and articles for pulp magazines to pay for his tuition, and continued his writing career as a graduate student at Columbia University. To research The Jungle, he spent seven weeks working undercover in Chicago’s meat packing plants. The book received great critical and commercial success, and Sinclair used the proceeds to start a utopian community in New Jersey. In 1915, he moved to California, where he founded the state’s ACLU chapter and became an influential political figure, running for governor as the Democratic nominee in 1934. Sinclair wrote close to one hundred books during his lifetime, including Oil! (1927), the inspiration for the 2007 movie There Will Be Blood; Boston (1928), a documentary novel revolving around the Sacco and Vanzetti case; The Brass Check, a muckraking exposé of American journalism, and the eleven novels in Pulitzer Prize–winning Lanny Budd series.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entir
ely coincidental.
Copyright © 1942, 1969 by Upton Sinclair
Cover design by Kat JK Lee
ISBN: 978-1-5040-2647-5
This edition published in 2016 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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