Social problems -- Fiction; War stories; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
“We're going to teach a little fundamental morality to a young man
whose education has been neglected,” replied the other. That somehow
did not tell Jimmie very much, but he forebore to speak again, for
never in all his life had he seen a man who conveyed to him the
impression of such resistless force as this man. He was truly a
superhuman creature, terrifying, panoplied in lightnings of wrath.
The door of the house opened again, and Lacey Granitch came in, with
a man on each side holding him by the arms and a pair of handcuffs
on his wrists. Of all the dreadful spectacles that Jimmie had seen
that dreadful night, the worst was the face of the young master of
the Empire Machine Shops. It was green--absolutely and literally
green. His knees trembled so that he seemed about to sink to the
floor, and his dark eyes were those of an animal in a trap.
There came another man behind him carrying two black cases in his
hands. He opened one, and took out some instrument with wires
attached, and hung part of it to a hook on the wall; he pressed a
switch, and a soft white radiance flooded the room. The man who was
in command, the one whom the lady had called “Paul”, now turned to
Jimmie and his wife. “You may take your lamp,” he said. “Go into the
other room and stay there till we call you, please.”
“W--w--what are you goin' to do?” Jimmie found courage to stammer
again. But the other merely bade him to go into the other room and
stay, and it would be all right, and he would be well paid for his
time and trouble. There was no use trying to interfere; no use
trying to get away, for the house would be watched.
V
Jimmie Junior had been wakened by the uproar, and was whimpering; so
Lizzie hurried to quiet him, and Jimmie set the little smoky lamp on
the dresser, and went and sat on the bed beside her, holding her
hand in his. Both their hands were shaking in a way that was
amazing.
Every sound from the other room was plainly audible. Lacey was
pleading, and “Paul” commanded him to hold his tongue. There was a
scuffle, and then terrified moans, which died away. There began to
steal into the Higgins's bedroom a most ghastly odour; they could
not imagine what it was. And then they began to hear wild clamour
from Lacey Granitch, as if he were suffering in hell. It was awful
beyond words; the perspiration came out in beads on the faces of the
listeners, and Jimmie was just about making up his mind that it was
his duty to rush in and protest, or perhaps to climb out of the
window and make an effort to steal away and summon help, when the
door opened and the man called “Paul” came in, closing the door
behind him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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