The audience in the armory at Fairweather on the evening of Donatello’s
visit and expulsion had been treated to something more, and something
of vastly greater moment, than a mere exhibition drill. They had not
appreciated it at first, and while it was going on their attention
had been too greatly strained to fully take it in. But when Sergeant
McCormack reported the fulfilment of his orders, and started around
the right of the line to take his post, it dawned on the people who
had seen the incident that an exhibition of American military spirit
had been witnessed, the spirit of the soldier as distinct from that
of the civilian, that it would have been worth going far to see.
Simultaneously, from all quarters of the hall, people began to applaud.
The applause grew more vigorous and was punctured with loud hurrahs.
Men and women rose to their feet and waved hands and handkerchiefs.
Sarah Halpert mounted the chair in which she had been sitting, stood on
it, and clapped her gloved hands until they burned.
First Sergeant Barriscale bowed to right and left. He naturally
assumed that it was all a tribute to the prompt and vigorous action
taken by him in ridding the room of an undesirable guest. Then some
one yelled: “Three cheers for Sergeant McCormack!” and it occurred to
Barriscale that the audience might also be expressing its appreciation
of the splendid sense of military discipline, exhibited under the most
severely trying circumstances, by the second sergeant.
In the midst of the applause and shouting, Captain Murray entered with
his lieutenants, and the command was turned over to him. But he did
not learn, until after the drill was over and the company had been
dismissed, what had caused the commotion prior to his entrance. When he
did find out what had happened he crossed the hall to where Sergeant
McCormack stood talking with his mother and his aunt, and gave the
boy’s hand a mighty grip.
“I’m proud of you!” he said. “That was splendid! You’re an ideal
soldier!”
Whereupon Sarah Halpert, quite unable to restrain her enthusiasm, threw
her arms around the neck of the second sergeant, and, much to his
embarrassment, kissed him on both cheeks.
The next day the occurrence at the armory the night before was the talk
of the town. The newspapers took the matter up and exploited it from
one end of the State to the other. Sergeant Barriscale was commended
for his prompt and vigorous action in ridding the armory of an avowed
enemy to the government, while Sergeant McCormack received due credit
for his soldierly obedience, under most embarrassing circumstances.
But Sergeant McCormack’s anger at the humiliation that had been put
upon him was not appeased by any commendation of his soldierly conduct.
Slow to wrath as he had always been, he was now thoroughly aroused
and intensely indignant. If he could have withdrawn from the company
and so severed the only relations between him and Barriscale, he
would have done so at once. But it is not within the province of an
enlisted man to resign, and he had no legitimate excuse for applying
for a discharge, so nothing happened. But the breach that had opened
narrowly between the two boys at the time of the flag-raising, and
that had broadened dangerously on the night Chick was ordered from the
stack-room, and had yawned wide, deep and impassable, since the night
of the company meeting, was apparently never to be closed.
Hal was still employed at the Citizens’ Bank. He had been promoted
from one position to another until he had come now to be regarded as
one of the most trusted and skilful employees of that institution.
Only one shadow rested on his standing there, and that was cast by
his open espousal of the cause of the discontented in society, and
his association with the more radical elements in the city. He had
not been accused of planning the destruction of the existing social
order, nor of advocating the confiscation of the property of the
rich. He was a student and a dreamer rather than a militant reformer.
But his well-known attitude was bound to cast upon him the shadow of
suspicion; and since the occurrence of the incident at the armory, and
its wide exploitation, the shadow had deepened into a cloud, and more
than one whispered accusation went forth against him, of disloyalty
to the forces that had made this country great and prosperous, and of
indifference to the flag which was a symbol of power and progress, and
so regarded the world over.
Moreover, for nearly a year, Europe had been weltering in the bloodiest
war of history. No one could tell how soon the red waves of it would
break on the shores of the United States. It was a time when absolute
loyalty was expected and demanded from every man who had the welfare
of his country and of his fellow-citizens at heart. Had it not been
that McCormack’s social heresies were leavened to an appreciable extent
by his apparent devotion to the National Guard, he would doubtless
have found himself criticized more severely, and ostracized more
effectually, than he had thus far been.
Yet, as it developed, his military connection was not sufficient fully
to protect him. If he had been put to a test as a soldier, and had met
it bravely and successfully, he was now to be put to a still greater
test as a civilian.
It was about two weeks after the armory incident that Hal stood one day
in the receiving teller’s cage at the bank, at the noon hour, relieving
the teller, who had gone to luncheon. He saw the senior Barriscale
enter the lobby and pass back to the president’s room. He thought
nothing of it, as Mr. Barriscale was one of the directors of the bank
and was frequently in to consult with the officers. But, ten minutes
later, Mr. Winton, the president, crossed the counting-room to the
teller’s cage, and spoke to Hal.
“McCormack,” he said, “will you please come into my room for a few
minutes? Mr. Hanes will relieve you at the counter.”
As they walked back together the president continued:
“Mr. Barriscale, who, as you know, is one of our directors, has called
my attention to a matter which seriously concerns you. I believe the
better way is for you to take it up with him in person. That is the
reason I have called you.”
Hal knew, instinctively, the nature of Mr. Barriscale’s errand, and he
knew that he had reached another crisis in his career. But, neither by
word nor look, did he exhibit any apprehension.
In the president’s room, in a chair by the table, the millionaire
manufacturer was sitting. Big-bodied, square-jawed, with heavy
moustache and closely cropped beard, he looked the determined and
aggressive man that he was. He nodded as Hal entered the room, but he
made no other sign, and gave no word, of recognition.
The president opened the conversation by saying:
“Mr. Barriscale desires to speak to you on a matter which he believes
to be of considerable importance both to you and to the bank.”
The manufacturer, accustomed to efficiency in business methods, went at
once to the heart of his errand.
“I am credibly informed,” he said, turning to the young man, “that you
associate with a group of radicals in this community whose purposes
and plans are entirely subversive of law and order. That you not
only associate with them but that you sympathize with many of their
aims, and assist, to an appreciable extent, in the spreading of their
propaganda. It is hardly necessary for me to say that such activities
are wholly inconsistent with your position in this bank. From what I
hear, your attitude has already cost the bank something in the way
of reputation for soundness and conservatism. I have said to Mr.
Winton that you should be compelled at once to do one of two things,
either cut loose absolutely from the associations and beliefs I have
mentioned, or else give up your position in the bank.”
He had stated his case clearly, concisely and positively. The statement
called for an equally clear, concise and positive answer, and that Hal
knew he could not give. But he was not minded to yield without at least
an attempt at justification.
“I have friends in the city,” he replied, “among all classes of people,
holding all kinds of beliefs. For myself, I am neither a conservative
nor a radical; I have an open mind. I am looking for that which is
best for my country and for her humblest as well as her most prominent
citizens. I have tried to fulfil my duty to this bank in every way.
If my associations or conduct have brought discredit on it in the
slightest degree I am extremely sorry.”
“I have no doubt of it, young man; but you are evading the issue. I
am not charging you with robbing the bank, but with maintaining evil
associations. It is that that is hurting us. For instance, you brought
to the armory a few evenings ago, as your guest, a notorious firebrand,
an enemy to this government, a defamer of the National Guard. I am
proud of my son that he should have had him put into the street. But
the fact has been spread broadcast that it was one of our employees who
took the fellow there, and it has done the bank no good, Mr. Winton, no
good.”
He turned toward the president, and emphasized his conviction by
bringing his hand down forcibly on the arm of his chair.
“It certainly was an unfortunate occurrence,” replied the president. “I
cannot believe that McCormack realized that it might be injurious to us
or he would not have been so injudicious.”
“That’s the point exactly,” replied the manufacturer. “An employee
who shows so little judgment in the choosing of his associates as
this young man has shown, and so little discretion in his speech and
conduct, is a constant menace to any financial institution. That is
why,” turning again toward Hal, “I have recommended to Mr. Winton that
we get rid of you.”
Get rid of him! Just as though he were a balky horse or a biting dog.
Resentment flashed up in Hal’s breast. He turned sharply on his critic.
“You don’t have to get rid of me, Mr. Barriscale,” he replied. “When
the bank wishes me to leave I will go. In the meantime I reserve to
myself the right to choose my friends and associates.”
Mr. Barriscale turned again toward the president with a shrug of his
shoulders and a significant wave of his hand, as if to say “I told you
so,” but he said nothing. Mr. Winton was the next to speak.
“I am sorry you assume this attitude, McCormack,” he said. “We like you
here. Your work is excellent. We want to keep you. But I am afraid we
can do so only on the condition laid down by Mr. Barriscale. You must
either give up your associates or your position.”
Hal looked from one to the other of the men and was silent. Across his
mind flashed the oft-repeated declaration of Donatello that under the
present social system not only business and trade, but the welfare, the
happiness, the very lives of the vast majority of men were absolutely
under the control of the money power centered in the few. Here was Mr.
Barriscale, the heaviest stockholder of the bank, the most influential
director, at the head of a corporation the daily balance of which at
the bank was five times that of any other depositor, able, by reason
of his money interest alone, to dictate the policy of the institution,
even to the matter of the employment and discharge of its clerks; the
very president himself being obliged to follow humbly in his wake.
Hal’s indignation rose with his resentment. He knew that Mr. Barriscale
had decided to force him out, and that it would be useless now for him
to argue or protest. He even doubted whether an unconditional surrender
on his part would result in more than a temporary truce. He felt that
he might as well meet the issue squarely.
“Very well, Mr. Winton,” he said quietly, “since Mr. Barriscale’s voice
here is the controlling one, and since it is his wish that I shall go,
there is nothing for me to do but comply with it. I am not ashamed of
my beliefs or associations and I must decline to give up any of them.”
Mr. Barriscale rose to his feet.
“That settles it!” he exclaimed. “I presume the young man will go at
once, Mr. Winton.”
“I will go to-day, Mr. Barriscale,” responded Hal.
[Illustration: “I WILL GO TO-DAY, MR. BARRISCALE,” RESPONDED HAL]
But the president began to protest.
“Oh, not to-day, McCormack. I don’t think there is any such haste as
that. I don’t think Mr. Barriscale means that you shall go to-day.”
The manufacturer brought the palm of his hand down heavily on the table.
“That is exactly what I mean, Mr. Winton,” he replied; “to-day. We
can’t afford to harbor him for a moment longer than we have to. It
would be an injustice to our stockholders and depositors.”
To this outburst Hal made no reply. He turned to the president and held
out his hand.
“I am grateful to you, Mr. Winton,” he said, “for all the help and
encouragement you have given me, and all the patience and kindness you
have shown to me since I have been here. Good-bye!”
Amazed, chagrined, and shocked by the suddenness of it all, the
president was unable to speak, but he held fast to the boy’s hand with
such a grip that Hal was obliged forcibly to withdraw it. When he had
done this he bowed formally in the direction of the manufacturer, and
turned and left the room. He stopped at the locker to get his hat and
one or two of his personal belongings, and then went down the aisle and
across the lobby to the big street door. As he passed the cashier’s
room that official saw him through the plate-glass window and called to
him:
“Oh, McCormack, are you going to lunch? I wish you’d take these letters
up to the post-office for me. John is out, and I’m anxious to get them
off on the 12:40.”
“With pleasure, Mr. Haldeman.”
Hal reached his hand through the wicket, took the letters, and passed
out into the street.
So, then, he had lost his job. It was an occupation of which he had
grown fond, and in which he had become skilful. His two years of bank
training would now go for naught. For it was not to be supposed that
after his dismissal from one bank he would easily find employment in
another. He must seek work now that would be less to his taste. When he
went home and told his mother about it she wept for an hour. She did
not blame him. She had implicit faith in his honesty and judgment, and
she never questioned his beliefs. But when his Aunt Sarah Halpert heard
of it she was beside herself. She sent for Hal to come to her house at
once.
“Not but what you’ve got what you deserved to get,” she told him,
“but it was all so absurdly unnecessary. I’ve no love for the elder
Barriscale; you know that. And I’ve no doubt he took malicious delight
in throwing you into the street; but he was dead right in declaring
that the bank couldn’t afford to keep you. I’ve no sympathy for you;
none whatever. Now go find a job somewhere and stick to it, and behave
yourself. Hal,” she said, after she had stormed at him to her heart’s
content, “if you need a little money, or a little help of any kind
while you’re looking around, just come to your Aunt Sarah.” And when
she kissed him good-night there were tears in her eyes, and there was
fondness in her voice.
It was not many days before Hal found new employment as an accountant
in a large wholesale house in the city. It was not so congenial a
task as his old one. The salary was larger, it is true, but the
hours were longer, the work more strenuous, the environment not so
refined and agreeable. However, so long as he paid strict attention
to business, his new employers were not concerned about his beliefs
or his personal associations. Indeed, in spite of his own bitter
experience, he continued to be on friendly terms with Donatello and his
group of reformers and internationalists. The young radical had laid
up nothing against Sergeant McCormack on account of his expulsion from
the armory on a certain night, but he did not cease to denounce, with
ever increasing bitterness, a civil and military system under which
such an outrage, as he termed it, was possible. When Hal was forced
from his position at the bank, Donatello’s indignation knew no bounds.
He declared that the boy was being crucified for his beliefs, at the
hands of privilege, and that the incident was but another argument
to prove that the money power and the capitalistic system the world
over should be overthrown and abolished. And slowly, insidiously,
but nevertheless effectually, under the tutelage of Donatello, the
poison of radicalism, of internationalism as opposed to patriotism, of
syndicalism as distinct from democracy, seeped into the boy’s mind and
colored his thought and his purpose. His connection with the National
Guard in these days was indeed the only anchor which held him safely to
his moorings as a loyal citizen of a great republic. And even at this
anchorage he chafed, and from it would willingly have been free.
One afternoon, in the street, as he turned a corner near his place
of business, he ran into Joe Brownell, second lieutenant of Company
E. Brownell had been his friend since the day of his enlistment in
the Guard, and, so far as a commissioned officer could do so without
exhibiting partiality, he had been his supporter and adviser.
“I was just hunting you up, Hal,” he said; “there’s news. Lieutenant
Morosco is going to resign.”
“Indeed!” was the reply. “How is that?”
“Well, you know the Sturtevant people that he’s been with so long have
transferred him to the New York office. He goes east next week. That
leaves a vacancy in the first lieutenancy.”
“Then you’ll go up; and Barriscale will get shoulder straps?”
“That’s just the point. That’s a programme I don’t like.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, there are reasons. One is that I don’t want the place. I’m not
fitted for it, and I know it. The boys like me too well and I’ve no
more sense of discipline than a ground-hog. If I ever had to command
the company I’d collapse. Another reason is that--well, there’s a
pretty congenial crowd in officers’ quarters now; I’d like to keep it
congenial.”
“You mean that Barriscale wouldn’t be quite acceptable there?”
“To be frank with you, that’s it exactly.”
“But how are you going to help it? If you keep the second lieutenancy,
Barriscale will get the first.”
“Not if I can prevent it, he won’t.”
“How will you prevent it? He’ll be entitled to the promotion.”
“I propose to have you stand for election to the first lieutenancy.”
“Me!”
“Yes, you. It’s a matter of company election, you know; the boys would
be glad to put you in, and it would be entirely satisfactory up above;
I know what I’m talking about.”
“But, Joe, I couldn’t jump two grades. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides,
after what happened at the armory, and at the bank, and after all the
comment that’s been stirred up about me, it would never do for me to
aspire to a commission. It’s my place to crawl into my shell and stay
there till my time’s out.”
“Nonsense! There are only two men in this town who would hate to see
you get a commission.”
“You might as well make it three, Joe. I would hate to see myself
get it. With my views on social and economic problems and the proper
functions of government, I’ve no business in the Guard anyway. I’ve no
right to be a sergeant, much less to get a commission. The whole thing
is entirely out of the question. So drop it, Joe. I appreciate your
friendship and good intentions; but--drop it.”
“Drop nothing! No one has ever criticized your conduct as a soldier.
It’s beyond criticism. And as for Ben Barriscale, you owe him nothing
and you know it. I’ve kept my mouth shut through everything. It was my
place to. But now, with no one but you to hear me, I’ve got to have my
fling. I think that stunt of Barriscale’s at the armory that night,
while doubtless within the rules, was the most contemptible thing I
ever heard of. And, if I’m rightly informed, even that was outclassed
by his father’s treatment of you at the bank. The whole thing gets
my----”
Hal interrupted him impatiently. “Joe,” he said, “in a situation like
this there’s no room for resentments. But you’re a loyal friend of
mine and I’ll be fair with you. I’ll consider your proposition, and
I’ll let you know to-morrow what I’ve decided to do.”
The next day, at noon, when the two men came together, Sergeant
McCormack said:
“I’ve thought it all over, and I’ve decided not to stand for the
election.”