The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1924-03-05
CHAPTER Ix-Continued.

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CHAPTER IX-Continued.
And Martuinov, half doing,
thought of how many of the work
men members Of the Party could
do more responsible Party work,
and deal win it with more Com
munistic tact, than certain intel
lectuals, but that the mechanism of
the Party was so arranged as to
push forward those who knew how
to speak eloquently, preside at
meetings and manage them. And
he compared Andreev and his dis
jointed but sensible words with the
cracking speeches of that respon-
sible Communist, the director Of
the leather factory, who was SO
self-confident and at the same time
so ignorant, did not understand the
class struggle or the fundamental
principles IF the Party, but was
able to hide his lack of knowledge
under sounding phrases. And yet,
on account of his authoritative
baritone voice, his ability in man
aging a stormy meeting, and his
skill in getting the right to speak
out of his. turn, was elected every
where and considered very clever
and capable.
Suddenly Martuinov's sleepy
thoughts were broken into by a
loud noise in the passage.
There's some one there" Mar
tuincv heard Andreetis anxious
voice, "Comrade Martuinov, do you
hear ?"
cts probably the orderly"
murmured Martuinov, ready to slip
once more into his light sleep.
"No, no. There's something
wrong" cried Andrew, cooking the
trigger of his gun.
Martuinov jumped up and saw
a crowd of people pouring thru the
doors Angry faces, dishevelled
boards, hatchets and guns in their
hands.
Bandits flashed into his mind.
Probably killed the sentry i.
and now US +. :"
But he had not carried his
thoughts to its end when the heavy
dull sound Of a shot reverberated
in the room. Smoke filled the
room and the fat, red-haired peas
ant, the first to run into the guard
room, sank heavily on the ground,
dropping an elegant cavalry car
bine
"Shoot, Comrade Martuinov. 4.
What are you waiting for ?" sound
ed a desperate cry, and, profiting
by the confusion of the crowd,
Andrew fired a second time.
"Son of -. Filth Beat
them :. Beat
81 must shoot" flashed into his
mind. ''It's the end all the same.
I. <. Shoot" and, with trembling
fingers he released the safety
catch. But he had not time to
shoot. A heavy blow on the back
of the head brought him to the
floor. He fell, and, already not
knowing what it was, heard An
dreev's third shot, a heavy, re-
sounding noise, covered by the
bowling and curses of the crowd
A sharp, intolerable wringine
pain seized his breast and throat
He lost consciousness, and did moi
feel the third blow Of the bandits
pike, which smashed his skull in
Emptiness, interviewer with tht
last perceptions Of departing life
blotted out his consciousness.
CHAPTER X.
TOR three days Robeiko had moi
4 left the house. He had caught
cold; probably in a 'draugnt, dur,
ing the house-to-house search. To
wards evening, he grew stronger
but in the night had been very
bad again. In the morning hi
tried TO get up, but his head swan
and, swearing enersetically, he lay
down again, and, without strength
to rise, kept to his bed in the big
room with green velvet curtains
which had formerly been the study
Of Mrs. Senator.
He wanted TO eat but there wat
no one to go to the refractory I,
fetch his dinner. His hosts wer,
afraid not to give him boiling
water; they had agreed to provide
two samovars daily So he dranl
hot tea and nibbled stale rye
bread.
He had plenty Of bread. A Who'll,
loaf was standing on the table
Robeiko took all the crust from l
with his fingers and crumbled 1
up on the table. He was yer.
wretched. He did not blame Thu
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