Section 67
So there it was. When Peter had heard this letter, he understood
that there was no more to be said, and he said it. His own weight
had suddenly become more than he could support, and he saw a chair
nearby and slipped into it, and sat with eyes of abject misery
roaming from Guffey to McGivney, and from McGivney to Hammett, and
then back to Guffey again.
The head detective, for all his anger, was a practical man; he could
not have managed the very important and confidential work of the
Traction Trust if he had not been. So now he proceeded to get down
to business. Peter would please tell him everything about that
dynamite frame-up; just how they had managed it and just who knew
about it. And Peter, being also a practical man, knew that there was
no use trying to hide anything. He told the story from beginning to
end, taking particular pains to make clear that he and Nell alone
were in the secret---except that beyond doubt Nell had told her
lover, Ted Crothers. It was probably Crothers that got the dynamite.
From the conversation that ensued Peter gathered that this young man
with the face of a bull-dog was one of the very fanciest
safecrackers in the country, and no doubt he was the real brains of
the conspiracy; he had put Nell up to it, and managed every step.
Suddenly Peter remembered all the kisses which Nell had given him in
the park, and he found a blush of shame stealing over him. Yes,
there was no doubt about it, he was a boob where women were
concerned!
Peter began to plead for himself, Really it wasn't his fault because
Nell had got a hold on him. In the Temple of Jimjambo, when he was
only a kid, he had been desperately in love with her. She was not
only beautiful, she was so smart; she was the smartest woman he had
ever known. McGivney remarked that she had been playing with Peter
even then--she had been in Guffey's pay at that time, collecting
evidence to put Pashtian el Kalandra in jail and break up the cult
of Eleutherinian Exoticism. She had done many such jobs for the
secret service of the Traction Trust, while Peter was still
traveling around with Pericles Priam selling patent medicine. Nell
had been used by Guffey to seduce a prominent labor leader in
American City; she had got him caught in a hotel room with her, and
thus had broken the back of the biggest labor strike ever known in
the city's history.
Peter felt suddenly that he had a good defense. Of course a woman
like that had been too much for him! It was Guffey's own fault if he
hired people like that and turned them loose! It suddenly dawned on
Peter--Nell must have found out that he, Peter, was going to meet
young Lackman in the Hotel de Soto, and she must have gone there
deliberately to ensnare him. When McGivney admitted that that was
possibly true, Peter felt that he had a case, and proceeded to urge
it with eloquence. He had been a fool, of course, every kind of fool
there was, and he hadn't a word to say for himself; but he had
learned his lesson and learned it thoroughly. No more women for him,
and no more high life, and if Mr. Guffey would give him another
chance--
Guffey, of course, snorted at him. He wouldn't have a pudding-head
like Peter Gudge within ten miles of his office! But Peter only
pleaded the more abjectly. He really did know the Reds thoroughly,
and where could Mr. Guffey find anybody that knew them as well? The
Reds all trusted him; he was a real martyr--look at the plasters all
over him now! And he had just added another Red laurel to his
brow--he had been to see Mrs. Godd, and had had the seat of his
trousers kicked by Mr. Godd, and of course he could tell that story,
and maybe he could catch some Reds in a conspiracy against Mr. Godd.
Anyhow, they had that perfectly good case against McCormick and the
rest of the I. W. Ws. And now that things had gone so far, surely
they couldn't back down on that case! All that was necessary was to
explain matters to Mr. Ackerman--
Peter realized that this was an unfortunate remark. Guffey was on
his feet again, pacing up and down the room, calling Peter the names
of all the barnyard animals, and incidentally revealing that he had
already had an interview with Mr. Ackerman, and that Mr. Ackerman
was not disposed to receive amicably the news that the secret
service bureau which he had been financing, and which was supposed
to be protecting him, had been the means of introducing into his
home a couple of high-class criminals who had cracked his safe and
made off with jewels that they guessed were worth fifty thousand
dollars, but that Mr. Ackerman claimed were worth eighty-five
thousand dollars. Peter was informed that he might thank his lucky
stars that Guffey didn't shut him in the hole for the balance of his
life, or take him into a dungeon and pull him to pieces inch by
inch. As it was, all he had to do was to get himself out of Guffey's
office, and take himself to hell by the quickest route he could
find. "Go on!" said Guffey. "I mean it, get out!"
And so Peter got to his feet and started unsteadily toward the door.
He was thinking to himself: "Shall I threaten them? Shall I say I'll
go over to the Reds and tell what I know?" No, he had better not do
that; the least hint of that might cause Guffey to put him in the
hole! But then, how was it possible for Guffey to let him go, to
take a chance of his telling? Right now, Guffey must be thinking to
himself that Peter might go away, and in a fit of rage or of despair
might let out the truth to one of the Reds, and then everything
would be ruined forever. No, surely Guffey would not take such a
chance! Peter walked very slowly to the door, he opened the door
reluctantly, he stood there, holding on as if he were too weak to
keep his balance; he waited--waited--
And sure enough, Guffey spoke. "Come back here, you mut!" And Peter
turned and started towards the head detective, stretching out his
hands in a gesture of submission; if it had been in an Eastern
country, he would have fallen on his knees and struck his forehead
three times in the dust. "Please, please, Mr. Guffey!" he wailed.
"Give me another chance!"
"If I put you to work again," snarled Guffey, "will you do what I
tell you, and not what you want to do yourself?"
"Yes, yes, Mr. Guffey."
"You'll do no more frame-ups but my frame-ups?"
"Yes, yes, Mr. Guffey."
"All right, then, I'll give you one more chance. But by God, if I
find you so much as winking at another girl, I'll pull your eye
teeth out!"
And Peter's heart leaped with relief. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Mr.
Guffey!"
"I'll pay you twenty dollars a week, and no more," said Guffey.
"You're worth more, but I can't trust you with money, and you can
take it or leave it."
"That'll be perfectly satisfactory, Mr. Guffey," said Peter.
