100%: The Story of a Patriot | Page 9

other. "Of course you know him.
What sort of a looking man is he?"
"I--I dunno. He's a big man."
"You lie! You know he's a medium-sized man!"
"He's a medium-sized man."
"A dark man?"
"Yes, a dark man."
"And you know Mrs. Goober, the music teacher?"
"Yes, I know her."
"And you've been to her house?"

"Yes, I've been to her house."
"Where is their house?"
"I dunno--that is--"
"It's on Fourth Street?"
"Yes, it's on Fourth Street."
"And he hired you to carry that suit-case with the bombs in it, didn't
he?"
"Yes, he hired me."
"And he told you what was in it, didn't he?"

"He--he--that is--I dunno."
"You don't know whether he told you?"
"Y-y-yes, he told me."
"You knew all about the plot, didn't you?"
"Y-y-yes, I knew."
"And you know Isaacs, the Jew?"
"Y-y-yes, I know him."
"He was the fellow that drove the jitney, wasn't he?"
"Y-y-yes, he drove the jitney."
"Where did he drive it?"
"H-h-he drove it everywhere."
"He drove it over here with the suit-case, didn't he?"
"Yes, he did."
"And you know Biddle, and you know what he did, don't you?"
"Yes, I know."
"And you're willing to tell all you know about it, are you?"
"Yes, I'll tell it all. I'll tell whatever you--"
"You'll tell whatever you know, will you?"
"Y-y-yes, sir."
"And you'll stand by it? You'll not try to back out? You don't want to
go back into the hole?"

"No, sir."
And suddenly Guffey pulled from his pocket a paper folded up. It was
several typewritten sheets. "Peter Gudge," he said, "I been looking up
your record, and I've found out what you did in this case. You'll see
when you read how perfectly I've got it. You won't find a single
mistake in it." Guffey meant this for wit, but poor Peter was too far
gone with terror to have any idea that there was such a thing as a smile
in the world.
"This is your story, d'you see?" continued Guffey. "Now take it and
read it."
So Peter took the paper in his trembling hand, the one which had not
been twisted lame. He tried to read it, but his hand shook so that he had
to put it on his knee, and then he discovered that his eyes had not yet
got used to the light. He could not see the print. "I c-c-can't," he wailed.
And the other man took the paper from him. "I'll read it to you," he said.
"Now you listen, and put your mind on it, and make sure I've got it all
right."
And so Guffey started to read an elaborate legal document: "I, Peter
Gudge, being duly sworn do depose and declare--" and so on. It was an
elaborate and detailed story about a man named Jim Goober, and his
wife and three other men, and how they had employed Peter to buy for
them certain materials to make bombs, and how Peter had helped them
to make the bombs in a certain room at a certain given address, and
how they had put the bombs in a suit-case, with a time clock to set
them off, and how Isaacs, the jitney driver, had driven them to a certain
corner on Main Street, and how they had left the suit-case with the
bombs on the street in front of the Preparedness Day parade.
It was very simple and clear, and Peter, as he listened, was almost
ready to cry with delight, realizing that this was all he had to do to
escape from his horrible predicament. He knew now what he was
supposed to know; and he knew it. Why had not Guffey told him long
ago, so that he might have known it without having his fingers bent out

of place and his wrist twisted off?
"Now then," said Guffey, "that's your confession, is it?"
"Y-y-yes," said Peter.
"And you'll stand by it to the end?"
"Y-y-yes, sir."
"We can count on you now? No more nonsense?"
"Y-y-yes, sir."
"You swear it's all true?"
"I do."
"And you won't let anybody persuade you to go back on it--no matter
what they say to you?"
"N-n-no, sir," said Peter.
"All right," said Guffey; and his voice showed the relief of a business
man who has closed an important deal. He became almost human as lie
went on. "Now, Peter," he said, "you're our man, and we're going to
count on you. You understand, of course, that we have to hold you as a
witness, but you're not to be a prisoner, and we're going to treat you
well. We'll put you in the hospital part of the jail, and you'll have good
grub and nothing to do. In a week or so, we'll want you