§ 30
Thus Peter was done with the Goober case, and mighty glad of it he
was. He was tired of the strain, he needed a rest and a little pleasure.
He had his pockets stuffed with money, and a good fat bank account, and
proposed to take things easy for the first time in his hard and lonely
life.
The opportunity was at hand: for he had taken McGivney's
advise and got himself another girl. It was a little romance, very
worldly and delightful. To understand it, you must know that in the
judicial procedure of American City they used both men and women jurors;
and because busy men of affairs did not want to waste their time in the
jury-box, nor to have the time of their clerks and workingmen wasted,
there had gradually grown up a class of men and women who made their
living by working as jurors. They hung around the courthouse and were
summoned on panel after panel, being paid six dollars a day, with
numerous opportunities to make money on the side if they were clever.
Among this group of professional jurors, there was the keenest
competition to get into the jury-box of the Goober case. It was to be a
long and hard-fought case, there would be a good deal of prestige
attached to it, and also there were numerous sums of money floating
round. Anybody who got in, and who voted right, might be sure of an
income for life, to say nothing of a life-job as a juror if he wanted
it.
Peter happened to be in court while the talesmen were being
questioned. A very charming and petite brunette — what Peter described as
a "swell dresser" — was on the stand, and was cleverly trying to satisfy
both sides. She knew nothing about the case, she had never read anything
about it, she knew nothing and cared nothing about social problems; so
she was accepted by the prosecution. But then the defense took her in
hand, and it appeared that once upon a time she had been so indiscreet
as to declare to somebody her conviction that all labor leaders ought to
be stood up against the wall and filled with lead; so she was
challenged by the defense, and very much chagrined she came down from
the stand, and took a seat in the courtroom next to Peter. He saw a
trace of tears in her eyes, and realizing her disappointment, ventured a
word of sympathy. The acquaintance grew, and they went out to lunch
together.
Mrs. James was her name, and she was a widow, a grass widow as
she archly mentioned. She was quick and lively, with brilliant white
teeth, and cheeks with the glow of health in them; this glow came out of
a little bottle, but Peter never guessed it. Peter had got himself a
good suit of clothes now, and made bold to spend some money on the
lunch. As it happened, both he and Mrs. James were thru with the Goober
case; both were tired and wanted a change, and Peter, blushing shyly,
suggested that a sojourn at the beach might be fun. Mrs. James agreed
immediately, and the matter was arranged.
Peter had seen enough of the detective business by this time to
know what you can safely do, and what you had better not do. He didn't
travel with his grass widow, he didn't pay her car-fare, nor do anything
else to constitute her a "white slave." He simply went to the beach and
engaged himself a comfortable apartment; and next day, strolling on the
board walk, he happened to meet the widow.
So for a couple of months Peter and Mrs. James set up
housekeeping together. It was a wonderful experience for
the former, because Mrs. James was what is called a "lady,"
she had rich relatives, and took pains to let Peter know that
she had lived in luxury before her husband had run away
to Paris with a tight-rope walker. She taught Peter all
those worldly arts which one misses when one is brought up
in an orphan asylum, and on the road with a patent medicine vender.
Tactfully, and without hurting his feelings, she taught him how to hold
a knife and fork, and what color tie to select. At the same time she
managed to conduct a propaganda which caused him to regard himself as
the most favored of mankind; he was overwhelmed with gratitude for every
single kiss from the lips of his grass widow. Of course he could not
expect such extraordinary favors of fortune without paying for them; he
had learned by now that there was no such thing as "free love." So he
paid, hand over fist; he not only paid all the expenses of the
unregistered honeymoon, he bought numerous expensive presents at the
lady's tactful suggestion. She was always so vivacious and affectionate
when Peter had given her a present! Peter lived in a kind of dream, his
money seemed to go out of his pockets without his having to touch it.
Meantime great events were rolling by, unheeded by Peter and his
grass widow who never read the newspapers. For one thing Jim Goober was
convicted and sentenced to die on the gallows, and Jim Goober's
associate, Biddle, was found guilty, and sentenced to prison for life.
Also, America entered the war, and a wave of patriotic excitement swept
like a prairie fire over the country. Peter could not help hearing about
this; his attention was attracted to one aspect of the matter — Congress
was about to pass a conscription act. And Peter was within the age
limit; Peter would almost certainly be drafted into the army!
No terror that he had ever felt in his life was equal to
this terror. He had tried to forget the horrible pictures of
battle and slaughter, of machine-guns and hand-grenades
and torpedoes and poison gas, with which little Jennie had
filled his imagination; but now these imaginings came crowding back upon
him, now for the first time they concerned him. From that time on his
honeymoon was spoiled. Peter and his grass widow were like a party of
picnickers who are far away in the wilderness, and see a black
thunder-storm come rolling up the sky!
Also, Peter's bank account was running low. Peter had had no
conception how much money you could spend on a grass widow who is a
"swell dresser" and understands what is "proper." He was overwhelmed
with embarrassment; he put off telling Mrs. James until the last
moment — in fact, until he wasn't quite sure whether he had enough money
in bank to meet the last check he had given to the landlady. Then,
realizing that the game was up, he told.
He was surprised to see how charmingly a grass widow of "good
breeding" could take bad tidings. Evidently it wasn't the first time
that Mrs. James had been to the beach. She smiled cheerfully, and said
that it was the jury-box for her once more. She gave Peter her card, and
told him she would be glad to have him call upon her again — when he had
restored his fortunes. She packed up her suit-case and her new trunk
full of Peter's presents, and departed with the most perfect sweetness
and good taste.
