Guffey had advised him not to make notes, for fear of detection, but
Peter could not carry all this in his head, so he would retire to
his room and make minute notes on slips of paper, and carefully sew
these up in the lining of his coat, with a thrill of mystery.
Except for this note-taking, however, Peter's sleuthing was easy
work, for these people all seemed eager to talk about what they were
doing; sometimes it frightened Peter--they were so open and defiant!
Not merely did they express their ideas to one another and to him,
they were expressing them on public platforms, and in their
publications, in pamphlets and in leaflets--what they called
"literature." Peter had had no idea their "movement" was so
widespread or so powerful. He had expected to unearth a secret
conspiracy, and perhaps a dynamite-bomb or two; instead of which,
apparently, he was unearthing a volcano!
However, Peter did the best he could. He got the names and details
about some forty or fifty people of all classes; obscure workingmen
and women, Jewish tailors, Russian and Italian cigar-workers,
American-born machinists and printers; also some "parlor
Reds"--large, immaculate and shining ladies who came rolling up to
the little bungalow in large, immaculate and shining automobiles,
and left their uniformed chauffeurs outside for hours at a time
while they listened to Peter's story of his "third degree.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66