Эптон Синклер - Oil!

At first Bunny had a cruel suspicion—that his father had known of this arrest, or at any rate that it was pending, before his latest effort to keep Bunny away from California. But he realized, it was enough to believe that Vernon Roscoe, intending to break up the “nest of Bolshevism” in the Rascum cabin, had made plans to get both Dad and Bunny away and keep them away. Anyhow, the scheme would not work, for Bunny was not going to permit his friend to be treated in that crude fashion!

Dad happened to be out, and Bunny showed the telegram to Vee, and talked it out with her. She wanted to know what he meant to do, and he answered that Dad would have to put up the bail for Paul, at least.

“But Bunny, you know he can’t do that—he wouldn’t cross Verne in regard to the strike.”

“He’s simply got to do it, Vee! I’d be a dog to let a man like Paul be locked up in that filthy hole.”

“But suppose Dad won’t, Bunny?”

“Then I’ve got to go back, that’s all there is to it.”

“What could you do when you got there?”

“I’ll hunt around till I find somebody that’s got a sense of decency and also a little cash.”

“The combination isn’t so easy to find, dear—I know, because I’ve tried it. And it’s going to make Dad dreadfully unhappy, to say nothing of spoiling our vacation. I have just learned of the loveliest place—a camp that Schmolsky bought up in Ontario, and he’s never been there, he’s too busy. And, oh, Bunny, I thought we were going to have such a marvelous time.”

She put her arms about him, but he hardly knew she was there, so cruelly was his spirit wrung by the vision of Paul in jail. And he, Bunny, running away from the trouble, loafing about and pretending it was a “vacation”! He that thought he understood the social problem, and had an ideal, at least a glimpse of what was kind and fair! He broke loose from Vee’s arms and began to pace the floor, storming half at himself for a renegade and half at the dirty crooks that ran the government of San Elido county, and stole the funds that were supposed to keep the jail clean and feed the prisoners. Bunny was twisting his hands together in his misery, and Vee watched him, startled; it was a new aspect of her Bunny-rabbit, that she had thought so sweet and soft and warm!

“Listen, dear!” she broke in, suddenly. “Stop a minute and talk to me quietly. You know, I don’t know much about these things.”

“What is it?”

“How can you be sure that Paul hasn’t broken any law?”

“Because I know him. I know all his ideas. I’ve talked the thing out with him from A to Z—all about this strike, and how it’s to be handled, the importance of getting the men to stand as a unit, how everything else must be subordinated to that. That’s what he’s been doing, and that’s why Verne has thrown him into jail.”

“You’re quite sure Verne has done it?”

“Of course—he and the rest of the operators’ committee. What are those officials in San Elido, but office-boys for the oil men? Before Verne came in there, Dad ran that county; I’ve seen him pay the money with my own eyes, and more times than one.”

“And you don’t think they may have evidence that Paul has been conniving at violence?”

“I don’t know what evidence they’ve got. Verne as good as told me he had spies on that bunch, and I don’t know what those spies may have planted—and neither does Verne know, for that matter. That’s one of the damnable things about it. Another is—you see that charge, ‘suspicion of criminal syndicalism’! What they call ‘criminal syndicalism’ means that you advocate overthrowing the government, or changing the social system by force; but you notice they don’t arrest you for that—they arrest you for ‘suspicion’ of it! In other words, you advocate some idea that some ignorant cop or some crook in office chooses to think may be dangerous, and then they throw you into jail, and there you stay—the courts are crowded, and they can keep you a year without a trial or any chance at all.”

“Oh, surely they can’t do that, Bunny!”

“They’re doing it right along. I know fellows it’s been done to. They put the bail high on purpose, so that workingmen can’t get it. And they think they’re going to do it to Paul Watkins, the best boy-friend I ever had, the straightest fellow I ever knew—yes, by God, and he went to Siberia and served in that war, and came out sick—that boy was as tough as a hickory nut before that, a country fellow, simple and straight, and with no vices. And this is the reward he gets for his services to his country—by Jesus, I’d like to see them get me to fight for a country like that!”

Bunny had to dash a tear out of his eyes, and he began to pace the floor again, and stumbled against a chair. Vee put her arms about him and whispered, “Listen, dear, I know some people that have got money, and I may be able to help you. Leave it to me for a few hours, and don’t say anything to Dad about it—what’s the use of worrying him to no purpose? If I can arrange it, he’ll be able to tell Verne that he knew nothing about it, and that’ll be so much better all round.”

She went off, and a couple of hours later came back. Bunny was to wire Ruth that neither he nor his father could do anything, but a friend had taken an interest in the case, and the money had been deposited with the American Bonding Company, and their office in Angel City would obtain Paul’s release. Bunny said, “How did you do it?” and she answered, “The less you know about it the better. I know somebody that owns some real estate in Angel City, and has a salary coming to them, and employers that are anxious to keep them happy and contented.” Bunny said it must have cost a good deal, and he ought to pay it back, and Vee said, “Yes, it cost a pile, and you’re going to pay in love and affection, and you can start right now.” She flew to his arms, and he covered her with kisses, and it was like an orchestra that went surging up in their hearts. It is an extremely unsettling thing to have a whole orchestra inside you!

Well, Paul got out, and Bunny was supposed to be satisfied. To be sure, seven other fellows were in, and Bunny knew them all; but it would have cost fifty-two thousand five hundred dollars to release them, and that would certainly be carrying idealism to unreasonable extremes. So Bunny let Vee carry him and Dad off to that “camp” on a lake with a long Indian name, and there they swam, and canoed, and fished, and tramped the forests, and took pictures of moose in the water; they had Indian guides, and everything romantic—and at the same time hot and cold water in their bed-rooms, and steam-heat if they wanted it; all the comforts of Broadway and Forty-second Street.

Here, if ever, they had a chance to get enough of each other; there were no distractions, no social duties, no visitors dropping in, no dressing to be done; they were together all day and all night. What Bunny found was that they were perfectly happy so long as they were doing physical things: canoe trips to other places, new fishing stunts, hunting with the camera, shooting rapids, learning to make camp, to start a fire like the Indians—anything it might be. But they must be playing all the time, otherwise a great gulf opened between them. If Bunny wanted to read, what was Vee to do?

Once a day a little steamer came the length of the lake and put off supplies and a packet of mail. There were papers from Angel City, and also, once a week, the strike bulletin of the oil workers, which Bunny had very unwisely subscribed for. What was the use of running three thousand miles away from trouble, and then having it sent to you in a mail sack? Reading of the scenes that he knew so well—the meetings, the relief work, the raising of funds, the struggles with the guards, the arrests, the sufferings of the men in jail, the beating up of strike pickets, the insolence of the sheriff and other officials, the dishonesty of the newspapers—it was exactly the same as if Bunny were in Paradise. Paul was one of the executive committee, Paul had become Tom Axton’s right-hand man, and his speeches were quoted, and his experiences in the San Elido county jail—when Bunny had finished that little paper, he was so shaken he was not the same all day. Vee found out about it, of course, and began trying to persuade him to stop reading it. Had he not done his share by giving the strikers back their leader? And had he not promised to repay her, his darling Vee-Vee, with love and affection for a whole summer?