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Updated: May 9, 2025
It was nearly all true, and the fact that it was guess-work on Donald Gordon's part did not make it any the better for Peter. Of course McGivney and Guffey and all his men read the story, and knew Peter for the whooping jackass that Peter knew himself. "You go and get yourself a job with a pick and shovel," said McGivney, and Peter sorrowfully took his departure.
Right now he had men in American City working over the data which Guffey had collected, and every week or two he would make a speech somewhere, or would issue a statement to the newspapers, telling of new bomb plots and new conspiracies to overthrow the government. And how clever he was about it!
"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.
Guffey answered that Peter needn't worry about the job's lasting; if he cared to give this testimony, he might have a joy ride from one end of the country to the other, and everywhere he would live on the fat of the land, and be a hero in the newspapers. But still Peter hemmed and hawed.
There were a dozen such witnesses as this in the Goober case. They had told their stories before the grand jury, and innumerable flaws and discrepancies had been discovered, which made more work and trouble for Guffey and his lieutenants.
Guffey said they would quite probably raid the meeting, and Peter must go along, so as to point out the Reds to the bulls. The work was in charge of a police detective by the name of Garrity, head of what was called the "Bomb Squad"; but this man didn't know very much, so he had the habit of coming to Peter for advice.
Really, he was Peter's employer; he had put up a lot of the money for the secret service work which Guffey was conducting, and neither Guffey or any of the city authorities dared try to fool him. "Well, that's all right," said Peter; "it won't hurt for me to see him." "He's going to question you about this case," said McGivney. "He's going to try to find out everything he can.
Among these were men like W. G. McAdoo of New York, A. Mitchell Palmer, Joseph Guffey, and Vance McCormick of Pennsylvania, Senator "Billy" Hughes of New Jersey, and Angus McLean of North Carolina.
Stanwix told a few outlines of the case. The men were known as the Arizona Kid and Big Bill Guffey. They had been cattlemen, miners, and about every other thing known to the Southwest. By degrees they had acquired the reputation of being bad men; and all sorts of lawless doings were laid at their door.
Not in vain had his finger been almost broken and his wrist almost dislocated! "Now," said Guffey, "here's my idea: As a witness you're on the bum, but as a spy, you're it. They know that you blabbed, and that I know it; they know I've had you in the hole. So now what I want to do is to make a martyr of you. D'you see?" Peter nodded; yes, he saw. It was his specialty, seeing things like that.
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