They Call Me Carpenter - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
The company laughed, and I subsided, and let the wave of conversation roll by. It was only later that I realized the part I had just been playing. It had been easy for me to recognize T-S as St. Peter, but I had not known myself as that rich young man who had asked for advice, and then rejected it. "When he heard this, he was very sorrowful; for he was very rich." Yes, I had found my place in the story!
XLIII
You may believe that next morning my first thought was to get hold of the "Times" and see what they had done to my prophet. Sure enough, there he was on the front page, three columns wide, with the customary streamer head:
MOB OF ANARCHISTS RAID ST. BARTHOLMEW'S
PROPHET AND RAGGED HORDE BREAK UP CHURCH SERVICES
I skimmed over the story quickly; I noted that Carpenter was represented as having tried to knock down the Reverend Mr.
Simpkinson, and that the prophet's followers had a.s.saulted members of the congregation. I confess to some relief upon discovering that my own humble part in the adventure had not been mentioned. I suspected that my Uncle Timothy must have been busy at the telephone on Sunday evening! But then I turned to the "Examiner," and alas, there I was! "A certain rich young man," rising up to protect an incendiary prophet! I remembered that my Uncle Timothy had had a violent row with the publisher of the "Examiner" a year or two ago, over some political appointment!
The "Times" had another editorial, two columns, double leaded.
Yesterday the paper had warned the public what to expect; today it saw the prophecies justified, and what it now wished to know was, had Western City a police department, or had it not? "How much longer do our authorities propose to give rein to this fire-brand imposter? This prophet of G.o.d who rides about town in a broken-down express-wagon, and consorts with movie actresses and red agitators!
Must the police wait until his seditious doctrines have fanned the flames of mob violence beyond control? Must they wait until he has gathered all the others of his ilk, the advocates of lunacy and a.s.sa.s.sination about him, and caused an insurrection of cla.s.s envy and hate? We call upon the authorities of our city to act and act at once; to put this wretched mountebank behind bars where he belongs, and keep him there."
There was another aspect of this matter upon which the "Times" laid emphasis. After long efforts on the part of the Chamber of Commerce and other civic organizations, Western City had been selected as the place for the annual convention of the Mobland Brigade. In three days this convention would be called to order, and already the delegates were pouring in by every train. What impression would they get of law and order in this community? Was this the purpose for which they had shed their blood in a dreadful war--that their country might be affronted by the ravings of an impious charlatan?
What had the gold-star mothers of Western City to say to this? What did the local post of the Mobland Brigade propose to do to save the fair name of their city? Said the "Times": "If our supine authorities refuse to meet this emergency, we believe there are enough 100% Americans still among us to protect the cause of public decency, and to a.s.sert the right of Christian people to wors.h.i.+p their G.o.d without interference from the Dictators.h.i.+p of the Lunatic Asylum."
Now, I had been so much interested in Carpenter and his adventures that I had pretty well overlooked this matter of the Mobland Brigade and its convention. I belong to the Brigade myself, and ought to have been serving on the committee of arrangements; instead of which, here I was chasing around trying to save a prophet, who, it appeared, really wanted to get into trouble! Yes, the Brigade was coming; and I could foresee what would happen when a bunch of these wild men encountered Carpenter's express wagon on the street!
XLIV
I swallowed a hasty cup of coffee, and drove in a taxi to the Labor Temple. Carpenter had said he would be there early in the morning, to help with the relief work again. I went to the rooms of the Restaurant Workers, and found that he had not yet arrived. I noticed a group of half a dozen men standing near the door, and there seemed something uncordial in the look they gave me. One of them came toward me, the same who had sought my advice about permitting Carpenter to speak at the ma.s.s meeting. "Good morning," he said; and then: "I thought you told me this fellow Carpenter was not a red?"
"Well," said I, taken by surprise, "is he?"
"G.o.d Almighty!" said the other. "What do you call this?" And he held up a copy of the "Times." "Going in and shouting in the middle of a church service, and trying to knock down a clergyman!"
I could not help laughing in the man's face. "So even you labor men believe what you read in the 'Times'! It happens I was present in the church myself, and I a.s.sure you that Carpenter offered no resistance, and neither did anyone else in his group. You remember, I told you he was a man of peace, and that was all I told you."
"Well," said the other, somewhat more mildly, "even so, we can't stand for this kind of thing. That's no way to accomplish anything.
A whole lot of our members are Catholics, and what will they make of carryings-on like this? We're trying to persuade people that we're a law-abiding organization, and that our officials are men of sense."
"I see," said I. "And what do you mean to do about it?"
"We have called a meeting of our executive committee this morning, and are going to adopt a resolution, making clear to the public that we knew nothing about this church raid, and that we don't stand for such things. We would never have permitted this man Carpenter to speak on our platform, if we had known about his ideas."
I had nothing to say, and I said it. The other was watching me uneasily. "We hear the man proposes to come back to our relief kitchen. Is that so?"
"I believe he does; and I suppose you would rather he didn't. Is that it?" The other admitted that was it, and I laughed. "He has had his thousand dollars worth of hospitality, I suppose."
"Well, we don't want to hurt his feelings," said the other. "Of gourse our members are having a hard time, and we were glad to get the money, but it would be better if our central organization were to contribute the funds, rather than to have us pay such a price as this newspaper publicity."
"Then let your committee vote the money, and return it to Mr. T-S, and also to Mary Magna."
It took the man sometime to figure out a reply to this proposition.
"We have no objection to Mr. T-S coming here," he said, "or Miss Magna either."
"That is," said I, "so long as they obey the law, and don't get in bad with the Western City 'Times'!" After a moment I added, "You may make your mind easy. I will go downstairs and wait for Mr.
Carpenter, and tell him he is not wanted."
And so I left the Labor Temple and walked up and down on the sidewalk in front. It was really rather unreasonable of me to be annoyed with this labor man for having voiced the same point of view of "common sense" which I had been defending to Carpenter's group on the previous evening. Also, I was obliged to admit to myself that if I were a labor leader, trying to hold together a group of half-educated men in the face of public sentiment such as existed in this city, I might not have the same carefree, laughing att.i.tude towards life as a certain rich young man whose pockets were stuffed with unearned increments.
To this mood of tolerance I had brought myself, when I saw a white robe come round the corner, arm in arm with a frock coat of black broadcloth. Also there came Everett, looking still more ghastly, his nose and lip having become purple, and in places green. Also there was Korwsky, and two other men; Moneta, a young Mexican cigarmaker out of work, and a man named Hamby, who had turned up on the previous evening, introducing himself as a pacifist who had been arrested and beaten up during the war. Somehow he did not conform to my idea of a pacifist, being a solid and rather stoutish fellow, with nothing of the idealist about him. But Carpenter took him, as he took everybody, without question or suspicion.
XLV
I joined the group, and made clear to them, as tactfully as I could, that they were not wanted inside. Comrade Abell threw up his hands.
"Oh, those labor skates!" he cried. "Those miserable, cowardly, grafting politicians! Thinking about nothing but keeping themselves respectable, and holding on to their fat, comfortable salaries!"
"Vell, vat you expect?" cried Korwsky. "You git de verkin' men into politics, and den you blame dem fer bein' politicians!"
"Nothing was said about returning the money, I suppose?" remarked Everett, in a bitter tone.
"Something was said," I replied. "I said it. I don't think the money will be returned."
Then Carpenter spoke. "The money was given to feed the hungry," said he. "If it is used for that purpose, we can ask no more. And if men set out to preach a new doctrine, how can they expect to be welcomed at once? We have chosen to be outcasts, and must not complain. Let us go to the jail. Perhaps that is the place for us." So the little group set out in a new direction.
On the way we talked about the labor movement, and what was the matter with it. Comrade Abell said that Carpenter was right, the fundamental trouble was that the workers were imbued with the psychology of their masters. They would strike for this or that improvement in their condition, and then go to the polls and vote for the candidates of their masters. But Korwsky was more vehement; he was an industrial unionist, and thought the present craft unions worse than nothing.
Little groups of labor aristocrats, seking to benefit themselves at the expense of the ma.s.ses, the unorganized, unskilled workers and the floating population of casual labor! That was why those "skates"
at the Labor Temple has so little enthusiasm for Carpenter and his doctrine of brotherhood! In this country where every man was trying to climb up on the face of some other man!
Our little group had come out on Broadway. It attracted a good deal of attention, and a number of curiosity seekers were beginning to trail behind us. "We'll get a crowd again, and Carpenter 'll be making a speech," I thought; and as usual I faced a moral conflict.
Should I stand by, or should I sneak away, and preserve the dignity of my family?
Suddenly came a sound of music, fifes and drums. It burst on our ears from round the corner, shrill and lively--"The Girl I Left Behind Me." Carpenter, who was directly in front of me, stopped short, and seemed to shrink away from what was coming, until his back was against the show-window of a department-store, and he could shrink no further.
It was a company of ex-service men in uniform; one or two hundred, carrying rifles with fixed bayonets which gleamed in the suns.h.i.+ne.
There were two fifers and two drummers at their head, and also two flags, one the flag of the Brigade, and the other the flag of Mobland. I remembered having noted in the morning papers that the national commander of the brigade was to arrive in town this morning, and no doubt this was a delegation to do him honor.
The marchers swept down on us, and past us, and I watched the prophet. His eyes were wide, his whole face expressing anguish. "Oh G.o.d, my Father!" he whispered, and seemed to quiver with each thud of the tramping feet on the pavement. After the storm had pa.s.sed, he stood motionless, the pain still in his face "It is Rome! It is Rome!" he murmured.
"No," said I, "it is Mobland."
He went on, as if he had not heard me. "Rome! Eternal Rome! Rome that never dies!" And he turned upon me his startled eyes. "Even the eagles!"
For a moment I was puzzled; but then I remembered the golden eagle with wings outspread, that perches on top of our national banner.