He was in her room one evening, and his arms were about her, and she had almost but not quite yielded. “Please, please, Peter,” she pleaded, “stop being one of those horrid3 Reds!” And Peter could stand it no longer. He told her that he really wasn’t a Red, but a secret agent employed by the very biggest business men of American City to keep track of the Reds and bring their activities to naught4. And when he told this, Rosie stared at him in consternation5. She refused to believe him; when he insisted, she laughed at him, and finally became angry. It was a silly yarn6, and did he imagine he could string her along like that?
So Peter, irritated, set out to convince her. He told her about Guffey and the American City Land & Investment Company; he told her about McGivney, and how he met McGivney regularly at Room 427 of the American House. He told her about his thirty dollars a week, and how it was soon to be increased to forty, and he would spend it all on her. And perhaps she might pretend to be converted by him, and become a Red also, and if she could satisfy McGivney that she was straight, he would pay her too, and it would be a lot better than working ten and a half hours a day in Isaac & Goldstein’s paper box factory.
At last Peter succeeded in convincing the girl. She was subdued7 and frightened; she hadn’t been prepared for anything like that, she said, and would have to have a little time to think it over. Peter then became worried in turn. He hoped she wouldn’t mind, he said, and set to work to explain to her how important his work was, how it had the sanction of all the very best people in the city—not merely the great bankers and business men, but mayors and public officials and newspaper editors and college presidents, and great Park Avenue clergymen like the Rev8. de Willoughby Stotterbridge of the Church of the Divine Compassion9. And Rosie said that was all right, of course, but she was a little scared and would have to think it over. She brought the evening to an abrupt10 end, and Peter went home much disconcerted.
Perhaps an hour later there came a sharp tap on the door of his lodging11-house room, and he went to the door, and found himself confronted by David Andrews, the lawyer, Donald Gordon, and John Durand, the labor12 giant, president of the Seamen’s union. They never even said, “Howdy do,” but stalked into the room, and Durand shut the door behind him, and stood with his back to it, folded his arms and glared at Peter like the stone image of an Aztec chieftain. So before they said a word Peter knew what had happened. He knew that the jig13 was up for good this time; his career as savior of the nation was at an end. And again it was all on account of a woman—all because he hadn’t taken Guffey’s advice about winking14!
But all other thoughts were driven from Peter’s mind by one emotion, which was terror. His teeth began giving their imitation of an angry woodchuck, and his knees refused to hold him; he sat down on the edge of the bed, staring from one to another of these three stone Aztec faces. “Well, Gudge,” said Andrews, at last, “so you’re the spy we’ve been looking for all this time!”
Peter remembered Nell’s injunction, “Stick it out, Peter! Stick it out!”
“Wh-wh-what do you mean, Mr. Andrews?”
“Forget it, Gudge,” said Andrews. “We’ve just been talking with Rosie, and Rosie was our spy.”
“She’s been lying to you!” Peter cried.
But Andrews said: “Oh rubbish! We’re not that easy! Miriam Yankovich was listening behind the door, and heard your talk.”
So then Peter knew that the case was hopeless, and there was nothing left but to ascertain15 his fate. Had they come just to scold him and appeal to his conscience? Or did they plan to carry him away and strangle him and torture him to death? The latter was the terror that had been haunting Peter from the beginning of his career, and when gradually be made out that the three Aztecs did not intend violence, and that all they hoped for was to get him to admit how much he had told to his employers—then there was laughter inside Peter, and he broke down and wept tears of scalding shame, and said that it had all been because McCormick had told that cruel lie about him and little Jennie Todd. He had resisted the temptation for a year, but then he had been out of a job, and the Goober Defense16 Committee had refused him any work; he had actually been starving, and so at last he had accepted McGivney’s offer to let him know about the seditious activities of the extreme Reds. But he had never reported anybody who hadn’t really broken the law, and he had never told McGivney anything but the truth.
Then Andrews proceeded to examine him. Peter denied that he had ever reported anything about the Goober case. He denied most strenuously17 that he had ever had anything to do with the McCormick “frame-up.” When they tried to pin him down on this case and that, he suddenly summoned his dignity and declared that Andrews had no right to cross-question him, he was a 100%, red-blooded American patriot18, and had been saving his country and his God from German agents and Bolshevik traitors19.
Donald Gordon almost went wild at that. “What you’ve been doing was to slip stuff into our pamphlet about conscientious20 objectors, so as to get us all indicted21!”
“That’s a lie!” cried Peter. “I never done nothing of the kind!”
“You know perfectly22 well you rubbed out those pencil marks that I drew through that sentence in the pamphlet.”
“I never done it!” cried Peter, again and again.
And suddenly big John Durand clenched23 his hands, and his face became terrible with his pent-up rage. “You white-livered little sneak24!” he hissed25. “What we ought to do with you is to pull the lying tongue out of you!” He took a step forward, as if he really meant to do it.
But David Andrews interfered26. He was a lawyer, and knew the difference between what he could do and what Guffey’s men could do. “No, no, John,” he said, “nothing like that. I guess we’ve got all we can get out of this fellow. We’ll leave him to his own conscience and his Jingo God. Come on, Donald.” And he took the white-faced Quaker boy with one hand, and the big labor giant with the other, and walked them out of the room, and Peter heard them tramping down the stairs of his lodging house, and he lay on his bed and buried his face in the pillows, and felt utterly27 wretched, because once more he had been made a fool of, and as usual it was a woman that had done it.
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1
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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2
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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3
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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4
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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5
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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6
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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7
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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8
rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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9
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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11
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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12
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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13
jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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14
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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15
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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16
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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17
strenuously
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| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
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18
patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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19
traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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20
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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21
indicted
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| 控告，起诉( indict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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23
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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25
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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26
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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27
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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