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Updated: May 10, 2025
"I'm a practicing attorney," said Abell, "and I represent the man you have arrested. I presume I have a right to enter." "And I am a prospective bondsman," I stated, with sudden inspiration. "So let me in also." We entered, and the policeman led his prisoner to the sergeant at the desk. The latter asked the charge, and was told, "Disturbing the peace and blocking traffic."
Finally Carpenter dismissed the Company, with the statement that he wished to retire to Comrade Abell's private office to pray; and Abell and his friend Lynch and the young Mexican said they would watch and wait for him. The rest of us took our departure, not without misgivings and sorrow in our hearts.
Comrade Abell's office and also his home were in a second story, over a grocery-store in this neighborhood, and here also was a little hall used as a meeting-place by the Socialists. Every Saturday night Abell and two or three of his friends conducted a soap-box meeting on Western City Street, and gave away propaganda leaflets and sold a few pamphlets and books.
When he returned from Simon Karlin's, he brought with him the latter's wife, whom he had healed of a fever; and here was another of the company whom he insisted upon helping "Comrade" Abell, one of the men I had noticed at the meeting last night, and who appeared to be done up. This man, I learned, was secretary of the Socialist local of Western City.
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