V
Jerry Coleman had mentioned several saloons where he was known, and
in one of these they found him, a smooth-faced, smooth-spoken young
fellow whom Jimmie would have taken for a detective or
"spotter"--having had dealings with such in his days "on the road".
The man wore good clothes, and his finger-nails were cared for,
something which, as we know, is seldom permitted to working-men. But
he did not put on airs, and he bade them call him by his first name.
He talked to Jimmie a while, enough to make sure of his man, and
then he peeled off some more bills, and told Jimmie to find more
fellows who could be trusted. It wouldn't do for any one person to
have too much money, for that would excite suspicion; but if they
would go to work and spend that much for dodgers to be distributed
among the munition-workers, and for street-meetings, and for the
proposed radical paper--well, there was plenty more money in the
place where this had come from.
Where was that place? Jimmie asked; and Jerry Coleman looked wise
and winked. Then, after further consideration, he decided it might
be well to tell them, provided they would pledge themselves not to
mention it to others without his permission. This pledge they gave,
and Jerry stated that he was a national organizer for the American
Federation of Labour, which had resolved to unionize these
munition-plants, and to establish the eight hour day. But it was of
the utmost importance that the bosses should not get wind of the
matter; it must not be revealed to anyone save those whom Coleman
saw fit to trust. He was trusting Jimmie and Meissner, and they
might know that the great labour organization was behind them, and
would see them through regardless of expense. Of course, it would be
expected that they would use the money honestly.
"Gee!" exclaimed Jimmie. "What do you take us for? A bunch of
crooks?"
No, said the other, he was not such a poor judge of character. And
Jimmie remarked grimly that anybody who was looking for easy money
did not go into the business of Socialist agitation. If there was
anything a Socialist could boast of, it was that their workers and
elected officials never touched any graft. Mr. Coleman--that is,
Jerry--would be handed a receipt for every dollar they spent.
It chanced that that same night there was a meeting of the
Propaganda Committee of the local, which consisted of half a dozen
of the most active members. Jimmie and Meissner hurried to this
place, with their new-found wealth burning a hole in their pockets.
They informed the committee that they had been collecting money for
the propaganda fund, and produced before the eyes of the astounded
comrades the sum of one hundred dollars.
It happened that the chairman of the committee had just received
from the National Office of the party in Chicago a sample of a new
leaflet entitled "Feed America First"; this leaflet could be had in
quantities for a very low price, a dollar or two per thousand; as a
result of Jimmie's contribution, a telegram was sent for ten
thousand of the leaflets to be shipped by express. And then there
was a proposition from the state office for Comrade Seaman, author
of a book against war, to speak every night for two weeks in
Leesville. The local had voted to turn down his proposition for lack
of funds; but now, with the new contributions, the propaganda
committee felt equal to the fifty dollars involved. And then there
was the idea of Comrade Gerrity, the organizer, who was conducting
street meetings every Wednesday and Saturday nights; if he could
have an assistant, at fifteen a week, the soap-boxing could go on
every night. John Meissner here put in--he was sure that
contributions could be got for that purpose, provided the decision
was made without delay. So the decision was made.
