Criminals -- Fiction; Social problems -- Fiction; United States -- Social conditions -- 1865-1918 -- Fiction
Just at this time the law touched the family at another point--Archie
was arrested. For a while he had sought work, but his experience in the
army had unfitted him for every normal calling; he had acquired a taste
for excitement and adventure, and no peaceful pursuit could content him.
He would not return to the army because he had too keen a memory of the
indignities heaped on a common soldier by officers who had been trained
from youth to an utter disregard of all human relations save those that
were unreal and artificial. He had learned but one thing in the army,
and that was to shoot, and he could shoot well. Somehow he had secured
a revolver, a large one, thirty-eight caliber, and with this he was
constantly practising.
Because Archie would not work, Koerner became angry with him; he was
constantly remonstrating with him and urging him to get something to do.
Archie took all his father’s reproaches with his usual good nature, but
as the winter wore slowly on and the shadow of poverty deepened in the
home, the old man became more and more depressed, his treatment of his
son became more and more bitter. Finally Archie stayed away from home
to escape scolding. He spent his evenings in Nussbaum’s saloon, where,
because he had been a soldier in the Philippines and was attractive and
good looking, he was a great favorite and presently a leader of the
young men who spent their evenings there. These young men were workers
in a machine shop; they had a baseball club called the "Vikings," and in
summer played games in the parks on Sundays. In the winter they spent
their evenings in the saloon, the only social center accessible to them;
here, besides playing pool, they drank beer, talked loudly, laughed
coarsely, sang, and now and then fought, very much like Vikings indeed.
Later, roaming down town to Market Place, Archie made other
acquaintances, and these young men were even more like Vikings. They
were known as the Market Place gang, and they made their headquarters in
Billy Deno’s saloon, though they were well known in all the little
saloons around the four sides of the Market. They were known, too, at
the police station, which stood grimly overlooking Market Place, for
they had committed many petty raids, and most of them had served terms
in the workhouse. One by one they were being sent to the penitentiary,
a distinction they seemed to prize, or which their fellows seemed to
prize in them when they got back. The gang had certain virtues,--it
stuck together; if a member was in trouble, the other members were all
willing to do anything to help him out. Usually this willingness took
the form of appearing in police court and swearing to an alibi, but they
had done this service so often that the police-court habitués and
officials smiled whenever they appeared. Their testimonies never
convinced the judge; but they were imperturbable and ever ready to
commit perjury in the cause.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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