Chapter 5
Section 9. Peter found that he was something of a personality in this hospital. He was the star witness in the sensational Guber case, about which the whole city, and in fact the whole country, was talking. It was known that he had turned states, but just what he knew and what he had told was
a mighty secret, and Peter held his mouth and looked portentous and enjoyed the thrills of self-importance. But meantime, there was no reason why he should not listen to others talk, no reason why he should not inform himself fully about this case, so that in future he might be able to take care of himself.
He listened to what Old Man Doopman had to say, and to what Jan Christian, his Swedish assistant, had to say, and to what Gerald Leslie, the Coke fiend, had to say. All these and others had friends on the outside, people who were in the know. Some told one thing and others told exactly the opposite. But Peter put this and that together, and used his own intrigue-sharpened wits upon
it, and before long he was satisfied that he had got the facts. Jim Guber was a prominent labor leader. He had organized the employees of the Traction Trust, and had called and led a tremendous strike. Also, he had called building strikes, and some people said he had used dynamite upon
uncompleted buildings and made a joke of it. Anyhow, the businessmen of the city wanted to put him where he could no longer trouble them, and when some maniac unknown had flung a dynamite bomb into the path of the Preparedness Parade, the big fellows of the city had decided that now was the opportunity they were seeking. Guffy, the man who had taken charge of Peter, was head of the Secret Service of the Traction
Trust, and the big fellows had put him in complete charge. They wanted action, and would take no chances with the graft-ridden and incompetent police of the city. They had Guber in jail, with his wife and three of his gang, and through the newspapers of the city they were carrying on a propaganda to prepare the public for the hanging of all
five. And that was all right, of course. Jim Guber was only a name to Peter, and of less importance than a single one of Peter's meals. Peter understood what Guffy had done, and his only grudge was because Guffy had not
had the sense to tell him his story at the beginning, instead of first nearly twisting his arm off. However, Peter reflected, no doubt Guffy had meant to teach him a lesson, to make sure of him. Peter had learned the lesson, and his purpose now was to make this clear to Guffy and to
Doobman. Hold your mouth, Guffy had said, and Peter never once said a word about the Guber case. But of course he talked about other matters. The fellow could not go around like a mummy all day long, and it was Peter's weakness that he liked to tell about his exploits, the clever devices by which he had outwitted
his last old man. So, to Gerald Leslie, the coke fiend, he told the story of Pericles Priam, and how many thousands of dollars he had helped to wheedle out of the public, and how twice he and Pericles had been arrested for swindling. Also, he told about the Temple of Jimjumbo, and all the strange and incredible things
that had gone on there. Pashtian El-Kalandra, who called himself the chief magistrian of Elu-Therinian exoticism, gave himself out to his followers to be 80 years of age, but as a matter of fact he was less than 40. He was supposed to be a Persian prince, but had been born in a small town in Indiana,
and had begun life as a grocer boy. He was supposed to live upon a handful of fruit, but every day it had been Peter's job to assist in the preparation of a large beef-steak or a roast chicken. These were for sacrificial purposes, so the prophet explained to his attendants, and Peter would get the remains of the sacrificial beef-steaks and chickens, and would sacrificially
devour them behind the pantry door. That had been one of his private grafts, which he got in return for keeping secret from the prophet some of the stealings of Tushbar Akrugas, the major domo. A wonderful place had been this Temple of Jimjumbo. There were mystic altars with seven veils before them, and through these the chief magistrian
would appear clad in a long cream-colored robe with gold and purple borders, and with pink embroidered slippers and symbolic headdress. His lectures and religious rites had been attended by hundreds, many of them rich society women who came rolling up to the temple in their limousines. Also there had been a school where children had been initiated into the mystic rites of
the cult. The prophet would take these children into his private apartments, and there were awful rumors which had ended in the raiding of the temple by the police and the flight of the prophet, and likewise of the major domo and of Peter Gudge, his scullion and confederate. Also Peter thought it was fun to tell Gerald Leslie about his adventures with the Holy
Rollers into whose church he had drifted during his search for a job. Peter had taken up with this sect and learned the art of talking in tongues and how to fall over the back of your chair in convulsions of celestial glory. Peter had gained the confidence of the Reverend Gamaliel Lunk, and had been secretly employed by him to carry on a propaganda among the congregation to obtain a raise in salary for
the underpaid convulsionist. But certain things which Peter had learned had caused him to go over to the faction of Shoemaker-Smithers who was trying to persuade the congregation that he could roll harder and faster than the Reverend Gamaliel. Peter had only held this latter job a few days before he had been fired for stealing
the fried doughnut. Section 10 All these things and more Peter told, thinking that he was safe now under the protection of authority. But after he had spent about two months in the hospital, he was summoned one day into
the office, and there stood Guffey, glowering at him in a black fury. You damned fool! were Guffey's first words. Peter's knees went weak, and his teeth began to chatter again. Wh-what? he cried. Didn't I tell you to hold your mouth?
And Guffey looked as if he were going to twist Peter's wrist again. Mr. Guffey, I ain't told a soul. I ain't said one word about the Guber case. Not one word. Peter rushed on, pouring out protests.
But Guffey cut him short. Shut up, you nut! Maybe you didn't talk about the Guber case, but you talked about yourself. Didn't you tell somebody you'd worked with that fellow, Calandra? Yes sir.
And you knew the police were after him, and after you too? Yes sir. And you said you'd been arrested selling fake patent medicines? Yes sir. Christ almighty, cried Guffey.
And what kind of a witness do you think you'll make? But cried Peter in despair. I didn't tell anybody that would matter. I only... What do you know what would matter?
roared the detective, adding a stream of furious oaths. The Guber people have got spies on us. They've got somebody right here in this jail. Anyhow, they found out about you and your record. You've gone and ruined us with your blabbing mouth.
My lord, whispered Peter, his voice dying away. Look at yourself on a witness stand. Look at what they'll do to you before a jury. Travelling over the country swindling people with patent medicines. And getting in jail for it.
Working for that hell-blasted scoundrel Calandra. And Guffey added some dreadful words, descriptive of the loathsome vices of which the chief magistrate had been accused. And you mixed up in that kind of thing. I never done anything like that, cried Peter wildly.
I didn't even know for sure. Tell that to the jury, sneered Guffey. Why, they've even been to that Shoemaker-Smithers. And they'll put his wife on the stand to prove you a sneak thief and tell how she kicked you out.
And all because you couldn't hold your mouth as I told you to. Peter burst into tears. He fell down on his knees, pleading that he hadn't meant any harm. He hadn't had any idea that he was not supposed to talk about his past life. He hadn't realized what a witness was, or what he was supposed to do.
All he had been told was to keep quiet about the Gouber case. And he had kept quiet. So Peter sobbed and pleaded, but in vain. Guffey ordered him back to the hold, declaring his intention to prove that Peter was the one who had thrown the bomb.
And that Peter, instead of Jim Gouber, had been the head in front of the conspiracy. And Peter signed a confession that he had helped to make the bomb. End of sections 9 and 10.
