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But barely an hour had passed before a jailer came, and took him to a private room, where he found himself confronted by McGivney and Hammett, also the Chief of Police of the city, a deputy district attorney, and last but most important of all Guffey. It was the head detective of the Traction Trust who took Peter in charge. "Now, Gudge," said he, "what's this job you've been putting up on us?"
"Who do you think that was you pinched?" cried Guffey. "He's the brother of a United States senator! And what do you think he was saying? That was a sentence from the Declaration of Independence!" Peter couldn't "get it"; Peter was utterly lost. Could a man go ahead and break the law, just because he happened to be a brother of a United States senator?
"I mean it, get out!" And so Peter got to his feet and started unsteadily toward the door. He was thinking to himself: "Shall I threaten them? Shall I say I'll go over to the Reds and tell what I know?" No, he had better not do that; the least hint of that might cause Guffey to put him in the hole! But then, how was it possible for Guffey to let him go, to take a chance of his telling?
Ostensibly the action was taken by the Federal agents, or by the District Attorney's office, or by the city police and detectives; but Peter knew that it was always himself and the rest of Guffey's agents, pulling the wires behind the scenes. Guffey had the money, he was working for the men who really counted in American City; Guffey was the real boss.
She would have a little holiday, and the spell of old love would reassert itself, and Guffey would have a half dozen men to spring the trap and there would be a star witness of the Goober defense clean down and out! "There's always something you can get them on!" said McGivney, and cheerfully paid Peter Gudge five hundred dollars for the information he had brought.
Peter repeated and insisted that he really had played entirely fair he hadn't told Nelse Ackerman a thing except just the truth as he had told it to Guffey and McGivney. He had said that the police were all right, and that Guffey's bureau was stepping right on the tail of the Reds all the time. "And what does he want you to do?" demanded the rat-faced man.
"But Jesus Christ, Guffey," broke in one of the men, "have all of us got to know the Bible by heart?" There was a laugh all round. "No," Guffey admitted, "but at least be careful, and don't arrest anybody for saying anything that sounds as if it came from the Bible." "But hell!" put in another of the men, who happened to be an ex-preacher. "That'll tie us up tighter than a jail-sentence!
He had been a fool, of course, every kind of fool there was, and he hadn't a word to say for himself; but he had learned his lesson and learned it thoroughly. No more women for him, and no more high life, and if Mr. Guffey would give him another chance Guffey, of course, snorted at him. He wouldn't have a pudding-head like Peter Gudge within ten miles of his office!
"Well then, you might as well quit your fooling right away. We understand that you framed this thing up, and we're not going to be taken in." Peter stared at Guffey, speechless; and Guffey, for his part, took a couple of steps toward Peter, his brows gathering into a terrible frown, and his fists clenched.
Then Peter went to see Guffey, and seated himself on the edge of the chair alongside Guffey's desk, and twisted his hat in his hands, and flushed very red, and began to stammer out his confession. He expected to be received with a gale of ridicule; he was immensely relieved when Guffey said that if Peter had really found a good girl and wanted to marry her, he, Guffey, was for it.
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