Gladiator

  XXI

  Now the winds keened from the mountains, and snow fell. Abednego Danner,the magnificent Abednego Danner, was carried to his last resting-place,the laboratory of nature herself. His wife and his son followed thebier; the dirge was intoned, the meaningless cadence of ritual wasspoken to the cold ground; a ghostly obelisk was lifted up over hismeagre remains. Hugo had a wish to go to the hills and roll down somegigantic chunk of living rock to mark that place until the coming of aglacier, but he forbore and followed all the dark conventions ofdisintegration.

  The will was read and the bulk of Hugo's sorry gains was thrust backinto his keeping. He went into the attic and opened the black trunkwhere the six small notebooks lay in oilpaper. He took them out andunwrapped them. The first two books were a maze of numbered experiments.In the third a more vigorous calligraphy, a quivering tracery ofexcitement, marked the repressed beginning of a new earth.

  He bought a bag and some clothes and packed; the false contralto of hismother's hymns as she went about the house filled him with such despairthat he left after the minimum interval allowed by filial decency. Shewas a grim old woman still, one to whom the coming of the kingdom toAfrica was a passion, the polishing of the coal stove a duty, and thepresence of her unfamiliar son a burden.

  When he said good-by, he kissed her, which left her standing on thestation platform looking at the train with a flat, uncomprehendingexpression. Hugo knew where he was going and why: he was on his way toWashington. The great crusade was to begin. He had no plans, onlyideals, which are plans of a sort. He had told his father he was makingthe world a better place, and the idea had taken hold of him. He wouldgrapple the world, his world, at its source; he would no longer attemptto rise from a lowly place; he would exert his power in the highestplaces; government, politics, law, were malleable to the force of oneman.

  Most of his illusion was gone. As he had said so glibly to his father,there were good men and corrupt in the important situations in theworld; to the good he would lend his strength, to the corrupt he wouldexhibit his embattled antipathy. He would be not one impotent personseeking to dominate, but the agent of uplift. He would be what heperceived life had meant him to be: an instrument. He could not be aleader, but he could create a leader.

  Such was his intention; he had seen a new way to reform the world, andif his inspiration was clouded occasionally with doubt, he disavowed thedoubts as a Christian disavows temptation. This was to be hismagnificent gesture; he closed his eyes to the inferences made by hispast.

  He never thought of himself as pathetic or quixotic; his ability tomeasure up to external requirements was infinite; his disappointment layalways (he thought) in his spirit and his intelligence. He went toWashington: the world was pivoting there.

  His first few weeks were dull. He installed himself in a pleasant houseand hired two servants. The use to which he was putting his fundscompensated for their origin. It was men like Shayne who would sufferfrom his mission. And such a man came into view before very long.

  Hugo interested himself in politics and the appearance of politics. Heread the _Congressional Record_, he talked with everyone he met, he wentdaily to the Capitol and listened to the amazing pattern of haranguefrom the lips of innumerable statesmen. In looking for a cause his eyefell naturally on the problem of disarmament. Hugo saw at once that itwas a great cause and that it was bogged in the greed of individuals. Itis not difficult to become politically partisan in the Capitol of anynation. It was patent to Hugo that disarmament meant a removal of thechance for war; Hugo hated war. He moved hither and thither, makingfriends, learning, entertaining, never exposing his plan--which his newfriends thought to be lobbying for some impending legislation.

  He picked out an individual readily enough. Some of the men he had cometo know were in the Senate, others in the House of Representatives,others were diplomats, newspaper reporters, attaches. Each alliance hadbeen cemented with care and purpose. His knowledge of an enemy came bywhisperings, by hints, by plain statements.

  Congressman Hatten, who argued so eloquently for laying down arms andpicking up the cause of humanity, was a guest of Hugo's.

  "Danner," he said, after a third highball, "you're a sensible chap. Butyou don't quite get us. I'm fighting for disarmament--"

  "And making a grand fight--"

  The Congressman waved his hand. "Sure. That's what I mean. You reallywant this thing for itself. But, between you and me, I don't give a rapabout ships and guns. My district is a farm district. We aren'tinterested in paying millions in taxes to the bosses and owners in acoal and iron community. So I'm against it. Dead against it--with myconstituency behind me. Nobody really wants to spend the money exceptthe shipbuilders and steel men. Maybe they don't, theoretically. Butthe money in it is too big. That's why I fight."

  "And your speeches?"

  "Pap, Danner, pure pap. Even the yokels in my home towns realize that."

  "It doesn't seem like pap to me."

  "That's politics. In a way it isn't. Two boys I was fond of are lyingover there in France. I don't want to make any more shells. But I haveto think of something else first. If I came from some other district,the case would be reversed. I'd like to change the tariff. But theindustrials oppose me in that. So we compromise. Or we don't. I think Icould put across a decent arms-limitation bill right now, for example,if I could get Willard Melcher out of town for a month."

  "Melcher?"

  "You know him, of course--at least, who he is. He spends the steel moneyhere in Washington--to keep the building program going on. Simple thingto do. The Navy helps him. Tell the public about the Japanese menace,the English menace, all the other menaces, and the public coughs up forbigger guns and better ships. Run 'em till they rust and nobody everreally knows what good they could do."

  "And Melcher does that?"

  The Congressman chuckled. "His pay-roll would make your eyes bulge. Butyou can't touch him."

  Hugo nodded thoughtfully. "Don't you think anyone around here workspurely for an idea?"

  "How's that? Oh--I understand. Sure. The cranks!" And his laughter endedthe discussion.

  Hugo began. He walked up the brick steps of Melcher's residence andpulled the glittering brass knob. A servant came to the door.

  "Mr. Danner to see Mr. Melcher. Just a moment."

  A wait in the hall. The servant returned. "Sorry, but he's not in."

  Hugo's mouth was firm. "Please tell him that I saw him come in."

  "I'm sorry, sir, but he is going right out."

  "Tell him--that he will see me."

  The servant raised his voice. "Harry!" A heavy person with a flattenednose and cauliflower ears stepped into the hall. "This gentleman wishesto see Mr. Melcher, and Mr. Melcher is not in--to him. Take care of him,Harry." The servant withdrew.

  "Run along, fellow."

  Hugo smiled. "Mr. Melcher keeps a bouncer?"

  An evil light flickered in the other's eyes. "Yeah, fellow. And I cameup from the Pennsy mines. I'm a tough guy, so beat it."

  "Not so tough your ears and nose aren't a sight," Hugo said lightly.

  The man advanced. His voice was throaty. "Git!"

  "You go to the devil. I came here to see Melcher and I'm going to seehim."

  "Yeah?"

  The tough one drew back his fist, but he never understood afterwardswhat had taken place. He came to in the kitchen an hour later. Mr.Melcher heard him rumble to the floor and emerged from the library. Hewas a huge man, bigger than his bouncer; his face was hard and sinisterand it lighted with an unpleasant smile when he saw the unconscious thugand measured the size of Hugo. "Pulled a fast one on Harry, eh?"

  "I came to see you, Melcher."

  "Well, might as well come in now. I worked up from the mines myself, andI'm a hard egg. If you got funny with me, you'd get killed. Wha' dayawant?"

  Hugo sat down in a leather chair and lit a cigarette. He wascomparatively without emotion. This was his appointed task and he wouldmake short shrift of it. "I came here,
Melcher," he began, "to talkabout your part in the arms conferences. It happens that I disagree withyou and your propaganda. It happens that I have a method of enforcing myopinion. Disarmament is a great thing for the world, and putting theidea across is the first step toward even bigger things. I know therelative truths of what you say about America's peril and what you getfrom saying it. Am I clear?"

  Melcher had reddened. He nodded. "Perfectly."

  "I have nothing to add. Get out of town."

  Melcher's eyes narrowed. "Do you really believe that sending me out oftown would do any good? Do you have the conceit to think that one nuttyshrimp like you can buck the will and ideas of millions of people?"

  Hugo did not permit his convictions to be shaken. "There happen to beextenuating circumstances, Melcher."

  "Really? You surprise me." The broad sarcasm was shaken like a weapon."And do you honestly think you could chase me--me--out of here?"

  "I am sure of it."

  "How?"

  Hugo extinguished his cigarette. "I happen to be more than a man. Iam--" he hesitated, seeking words--"let us say, a devil, or an angel, ora scourge. I detest you and what you stand for. If you do not leave--Ican ruin your house and destroy you. And I will." He finished his wordsalmost gently.

  Melcher appeared to hesitate. "All right. I'll go. Immediately. Thisafternoon."

  Hugo was astonished. "You will go?"

  "I promise. Good afternoon, Mr. Danner."

  Hugo rose and walked toward the door. He was seething with surprise andsuspicion. Had he actually intimidated Melcher so easily? His handtouched the knob. At that instant Melcher hit him on the head with achair. It broke in pieces. Hugo turned around slowly.

  "I understand. You mistook me for a dangerous lunatic. I was puzzled fora moment. Now--"

  Melcher's jaw sagged in amazement when Hugo did not fall. An instantlater he threw himself forward, arms out, head drawn between hisshoulders. With one hand Hugo imprisoned his wrists. He lifted Melcherfrom the floor and shook him. "I meant it, Melcher. And I will give youa sign. Rotten politics, graft, bad government, are doomed." Melcherwatched with staring eyes while Hugo, with his free hand, rapidlydemolished the room. He picked up the great desk and smashed it, he torethe stone mantelpiece from its roots; he kicked the fireplace apart; heburst a hole in the brick wall--dragging the bulk of a man behind him ashe moved. "Remember that, Melcher. No one else on earth is like me--andI will get you if you fail to stop. I'll come for you if you squealabout this--and I leave it to you to imagine what will happen."

  Hugo walked into the hall. "You're all done for--you cheap swindlers.And I am doom." The door banged.

  Melcher swayed on his feet, swallowed hard, and ran upstairs. "Pack," hesaid to his valet.

  He had gone; Hugo had removed the first of the public enemies. Yet Hugowas not satisfied. His approach to Melcher had been dramatic,terrifying, effective. There were rumours of that violent morning. Therumours said that Melcher had been attacked, that he had been bought outfor bigger money, that something peculiar was occurring in Washington.If ten, twenty men left and those rumours multiplied by geometricalprogression, sheer intimidation would work a vast good.

  But other facts disconcerted Hugo. In the first place, his mind keptreverting to Melcher's words: "Do you have the conceit to think that oneperson can buck the will of millions?" No matter how powerful thatperson, his logic added. Millions of dollars or people? the same logicquestioned. After all, did it matter? People could be perjured bysubtler influences than gold. Secondly, the parley over arms continuedto be an impasse despite the absence of Melcher. Perhaps, he argued, hehad not removed Melcher soon enough. A more carefully focusedconsideration showed that, in spite of what Hatten had said. It was notindividuals against whom the struggle was made, but mass stupidity,gigantic bulwarks of human incertitude. And a new man came in Melcher'splace--a man who employed different tactics. Hugo could not exorcise theworld.

  A few days later Hugo learned that two radicals had been thrown intojail on a charge of murder. The event had taken place in Newark, NewJersey. A federal officer had attempted to break up a meeting. He hadbeen shot. The men arrested were blamed, although it was evident thatthey were chance seizures, that their proved guilt could be at most onlya social resentfulness. At first no one gave the story much attention.The slow wheels of Jersey justice--printed always in quotation marks bythe dailies--began to turn. The men were summarily tried and convictedof murder in the first degree. A mob assaulted the jail where they wereconfined--without success. Two of the mob were wounded by riot guns.

  A meeting was held in Berlin, one in London, another in Paris. Moscowwas silent, but Moscow was reported to be in an uproar. The trialassumed international proportions overnight. Embassies were stormed;legations from America were forced to board cruisers. Strikes wereordered; long queues of sullen men and women formed at camp kitchens.The President delivered a message to Congress on the subject. Prominentpersonages debated it in public halls, only to be acclaimed and booedconcomitantly. The sentence imposed on two Russian immigrants rocked theworld. In some cities it was not safe for American tourists to go abroadin the streets. And all the time the two men drew nearer to the electricchair.

  It was then that Hugo met Skorvsky. Many people knew him; he was aradical, a writer; he lived in Washington, he styled himself anunofficial ambassador of the world. A small, dark man with a blackmoustache who attended one of Hugo's informal afternoon discussions on avicarious invitation. "Come over and see Hugo Danner. He's something newin Washington."

  "Something new in Washington? I shall omit the obvious sarcasm. I shallgo." Skorvsky went.

  Hugo listened to him talk about the two prisoners. He was lucid; hemade allowances for the American democracy, which in themselves wereburning criticism. Hugo asked him to dinner. They dined at Hugo's house.

  "You have the French taste in wines," Skorvsky said, "but, as it is tomy mind the finest taste in the world, I can say only that."

  Hugo tried to lead him back to the topic that interested both of them soacutely. Skorvsky shrugged. "You are polite--or else you are curious. Iknow you--an American business man in Washington with a purpose. Not anapparent purpose--just now. No, no. Just now you are a host, cultivatedand genial, and retiring. But at the proper time--ah! A dam somewhere inArizona. A forest that you covet in Alaska. Is it not so?"

  "What if it is not?"

  Skorvsky stared at the ceiling. "What then? A secret? Yes, I thoughtthat about you while we were talking to the others to-day. There issomething deep about you, my new friend. You are a power. Possibly youare not even really an American."

  "That is wrong."

  "You assure me that I am right. But I will agree with you. You are, letus say, the very epitome of the man Mr. Mencken and Mr. Lewis tell usabout so charmingly. I am Russian and I cannot know all of America. Youmight divulge your errand, perhaps?"

  "Suppose I said it was to set the world aright?"

  Skorvsky laughed lightly. "Then I should throw myself at your feet."

  Both men were in deadly earnest, Hugo not quite willing to adopt theRussian's almost effeminate delicacy, yet eager to talk to him, or tosomeone like him--someone who was more than a great self-centred wheelin the progress of the nation. Hugo yielded a little further. "Yet thatis my purpose. And I am not altogether impotent. There are things I cando--" He got up from the table and stretched himself with a felinegrace.

  "Such as?"

  "I was thinking of your two compatriots who were recently given suchwretched justice. Suppose they were liberated by force. What then?"

  "Ah! You are an independent communist?"

  "Not even that. Just a friend of progress."

  "So. A dreamer. One of the few who have wealth. And you have a plan tofree these men?"

  Hugo shrugged. "I merely speculated on the possible outcome of such athing; assume that they were snatched from prison and hidden beyond thelaw."

  Skorvsky meditated. "It would be a great victory
for the cause, ofcourse. A splendid lift to its morale."

  "The cause of Bolshevism?"

  "A higher and a different cause. I cannot explain it briefly. Perhaps Icannot explain it at all. But the old world of empires is crumbled.Democracy is at its farcical height. The new world is not yet manifest.I shall be direct. What is your plan, Mr. Danner?"

  "I couldn't tell you. Anyway, you would not believe it. But I couldguarantee to deliver those two men anywhere in the country within a fewdays without leaving a trace of how it was done. What do you think ofthat, Skorvsky?"

  "I think you are a dangerous and a valuable man."

  "Not many people do." Hugo's eyes were moody. "I have been thinkingabout it for a long time. Nothing that I can remember has happenedduring my life that gives me a greater feeling of understanding than theimprisonment and sentencing of those men. I know poignantly the glancesthat are given them, the stupidity of the police and the courts, thehorror-stricken attitude of those who condemn them without knowledge ofthe truth or a desire for such knowledge." He buried his face in hishands and then looked up quickly. "I know all that passionately andintensely. I know the blind fury to which it all gives birth. I hate it.I detest it. Selfishness, stupidity, malice. I know the fear itengenders--a dreadful and a justified fear. I've felt it. Very little inthis world avails against it. You'll forgive so much sentiment,Skorvsky?"

  "It makes us brothers." The Russian spoke with force and simplicity."You, too--"

  Hugo crossed the room restlessly. "I don't know. I am always losing mygrip. I came to Washington with a purpose and I cannot screw myself toit unremittingly. These men seem--"

  Skorvsky was thinking. "Your plan for them. What assistance would youneed?"

  "None."

  "None!"

  "Why should I need help? I--never mind. I need none."

  "You have your own organization?"

  "There is no one but me."

  Skorvsky shook his head. "I cannot--and yet--looking at you--I believeyou can. I shall tell you. You will come with me to-night and meet myfriends--those who are working earnestly for a new America, an Americaruled by intelligence alone. Few outsiders enter our councils. We areall--nearly all--foreigners. Yet we are more American than the Mainefisherman, the Minnesota farmer. Behind us is a party that grows apace.This incident in New Jersey has added to it, as does every dense mumbleof Congress, every scandalous metropolitan investigation. I shalltelephone."

  Hugo allowed himself to be conducted half-dubiously. But what he foundwas superficially, at least, what he had dreamed for himself. The houseto which he was taken was pretentious; the people in its salon wereamiable and educated; there was no sign of the red flag, the raggedreformer, the anarchist. The women were gracious; the men witty. As hetalked to them, one by one, he began to believe that here was thenucleus around which he could construct his imaginary empire. He becameinterested; he expanded.

  It was late in the night when Skorvsky raised his voice slightly, sothat everyone would listen, and made an announcement: "Friends, I havehad the honour to introduce Mr. Danner to you. Now I have the greaterhonour of telling you his purpose and pledge. To-morrow night he will goto New Jersey"--the silence became absolute--"and two nights later hewill bring to us in person from their cells Davidoff and Pletzky."

  A quick, pregnant pause was followed by excitement. They took Hugo bythe hand, some of them applauded, one or two cheered, they shoulderednear him, they asked questions and expressed doubts. It was broaddaylight before they dispersed. Hugo walked to his house, listening to along rhapsody from Skorvsky.

  "We will make you a great man if you succeed," Skorvsky said."Good-night, comrade."

  "Good-night." Hugo went into the hall and up to his bedroom. He sat onhis bed. A dullness overcame him. He had never been patronized quite inthe same way as he had that night; it exerted at once a corrosive and alethargic influence. He undressed slowly, dropping his shoes on thefloor. Splendid people they were, he thought. A smaller voice suggestedto him that he did not really care to go to New Jersey for theprisoners. They would be hard to locate. There would be a sensation anda mystery again. Still, he had found a purpose.

  His telephone rang. He reached automatically from the bed. The room wasbright with sunshine, which meant that it was late in the day. His braintook reluctant hold on consciousness. "Hello?"

  "Hello? Danner, my friend--"

  "Oh, hello, Skorvsky--"

  "May I come up? It is important."

  "Sure. I'm still in bed. But come on."

  Hugo was under the shower bath when his visitor arrived. He invitedSkorvsky to share his breakfast, but was impatiently refused. "Thingshave happened since last night, Comrade Danner. For one, I saw thechief."

  "Chief?"

  "You have not met him as yet. We conferred about your scheme. He--Iregret to say--opposed it."

  Hugo nodded. "I'm not surprised. I'll tell you what to do. You take meto him--and I'll prove conclusively that it will be successful. Then,perhaps, he will agree to sanction it. Every time I think of those twopoor devils--snatched from a mob--waiting there in the dark for theelectric chair--it makes my blood boil."

  "Quite," Skorvsky agreed. "But you do not understand. It is not that hedoubts your ability--if you failed it would not be important. He fearsyou might accomplish it. I assured him you would. I have faith in you."

  "He's afraid I would do it? That doesn't make sense, Skorvsky."

  "It does, I regret to say." His expressive face stirred with discomfort."We were too hasty, too precipitate. I see his reason now. We cannotafford as a group to be branded as jail-breakers."

  "That's--weak," Hugo said.

  Skorvsky cleared his throat. "There are other matters. Since Davidoffand Pletzky were jailed, the party has grown by leaps and bounds. Moneyhas poured in--"

  "Ah," Hugo said softly, "money."

  Skorvsky raged. "Go ahead. Be sarcastic. To free those men would cost usa million dollars, perhaps."

  "Too bad."

  "With a million--the million their electrocution will bring from theoutraged--we can accomplish more than saving two paltry lives. We mustbe hard, we must think ahead."

  "In thinking ahead, Skorvsky, do you not think of the closing of aswitch and the burning of human flesh?"

  "For every cause there must be martyrs. Their names will liveeternally."

  "And they themselves--?"

  "Bah! You are impractical."

  "Perhaps." Hugo ate a slice of toast with outward calm. "I was hopingfor a government that--did not weigh people against dollars--"

  "Nor do we!"

  "No?"

  Skorvsky leaped to his feet. "Fool! Dreamer! Preposterous idealist! Imust be going."

  Hugo sighed. "Suppose I went ahead?"

  "One thing!" The Russian turned with a livid face. "One thing the chiefbade me tell you. If those men escape--you die."

  "Oh," Hugo said. He stared through the window. "And supposing I were tooffer your chief a million--or nearly a million--for the privilege offreeing them?"

  Skorvsky's face returned to its look of transfiguration, the look thathad accompanied his noblest words of the night before. "You would dothat, comrade?" he whispered. "You would give us--give the cause--amillion? Never since the days of our Saviour has a man like you walkedon this--"

  Hugo stood up suddenly. "Get out of here!" His voice was a cosmicmenace. "Get out of here, you dirty swine. Get out of here before Ibreak you to matchwood, before I rip out your guts and stuff them backthrough your filthy, lying throat. Get out, oh, God, get out!"