Elmer Gantry (Unabridged). Sinclair Lewis

And I've longed for you something fierce, ever since I saw you!" His fingers touched her throat, but softly. "Aren't you a little glad?"

      As she turned her head, for a second she looked at him with embarrassed confession. She sharply whispered, "No — don't!" as he caught her hand, but she moved nearer to him, leaned against his shoulder.

      "You're so big and strong," she sighed.

      "But, golly, you don't know how I need you! The president, old Quarles — quarrels is right, by golly, ha, ha, ha! — 'member I was telling you about him? — he's laying for me because he thinks it was me and Jim that let the bats loose in chapel. And I get so sick of that gosh-awful Weekly Bible Study — all about these holy old gazebos. And then I think about you, and gosh, if you were just sitting on the other side of the stove from me in my room there, with your cute lil red slippers cocked up on the nickel rail — gee, how happy I'd be! You don't think I'm just a bonehead, do you?"

      Jim and Nellie were at the stage now of nudging each other and bawling, "Hey, quit, will yuh!" as they stood over the coffee.

      "Say, you girls change your shirts and come on out and we'll blow you to dinner, and maybe we'll dance a little," proclaimed Jim.

      "We can't," said Nellie. "Aunty's sore as a pup because we was up late at a dance night before last. We got to stay home, and you boys got to beat it before she comes in."

      "Aw, come on!"

      "No, we can't!"

      "Yuh, fat chance you girls staying home and knitting! You got some fellows coming in and you want to get rid of us, that's what's the trouble."

      "It is not, Mr. James Lefferts, and it wouldn't be any of your business if it was!"

      While Jim and Nellie squabbled, Elmer slipped his hand about Juanita's shoulder, slowly pressed her against him. He believed with terrible conviction that she was beautiful, that she was glorious, that she was life. There was heaven in the softness of her curving shoulder, and her pale flesh was living silk.

      "Come on in the other room," he pleaded.

      "Oh — no — not now."

      He gripped her arm.

      "Well — don't come in for a minute," she fluttered. Aloud, to the others, "I'm going to do my hair. Looks just ter-ble!"

      She slipped into the room beyond. A certain mature self-reliance dropped from Elmer's face, and he was like a round-faced big baby, somewhat frightened. With efforts to appear careless, he fumbled about the room and dusted a pink and gilt vase with his large crumpled handkerchief. He was near the inner door.

      He peeped at Jim and Nellie. They were holding hands, while the coffee-pot was cheerfully boiling over. Elmer's heart thumped. He slipped through the door and closed it, whimpering, as in terror:

      "Oh — Juanita — "

       6

      They were gone, Elmer and Jim, before the return of Nellie's aunt. As they were not entertaining the girls, they dined on pork chops, coffee, and apple pie at the Maginnis Lunch.

      It has already been narrated that afterward, in the Old Home Sample Room, Elmer became philosophical and misogynistic as he reflected that Juanita was unworthy of his generous attention; it has been admitted that he became drunk and pugnacious.

      As he wavered through the sidewalk slush, on Jim's arm, as his head cleared, his rage increased against the bully who was about to be encouraged to insult his goo' frien' and roommate. His shoulders straightened, his fists clenched, and he began to look for the scoundrel among the evening crowd of mechanics and coal-miners.

      They came to the chief corner of the town. A little way down the street, beside the red brick wall of the Congress Hotel, some one was talking from the elevation of a box, surrounded by a jeering gang.

      "What they picking on that fella that's talking for? They better let him alone!" rejoiced Elmer, throwing off Jim's restraining hand, dashing down the side street and into the crowd. He was in that most blissful condition to which a powerful young man can attain — unrighteous violence in a righteous cause. He pushed through the audience, jabbed his elbow into the belly of a small weak man, and guffawed at the cluck of distress. Then he came to a halt, unhappy and doubting.

      The heckled speaker was his chief detestation, Eddie Fislinger, president of the Terwillinger College Y.M.C.A., that rusty-haired gopher who had obscenely opposed his election as president.

      With two other seniors who were also in training for the Baptist ministry, Eddie had come over to Cato to save a few souls. At least, if they saved no souls (and they never had saved any, in seventeen street meetings) they would have handy training for their future jobs.

      Eddie was a rasping and insistent speaker who got results by hanging to a subject and worrying it, but he had no great boldness, and now he was obviously afraid of his chief heckler, a large, blond, pompadoured young baker, who bulked in front of Eddie's rostrum and asked questions. While Elmer stood listening, the baker demanded:

      "What makes you think you know all about religion?"

      "I don't pretend to know all about religion, my friend, but I do know what a powerful influence it is for clean and noble living, and if you'll only be fair now, my friend, and give me a chance to tell these other gentlemen what my experience of answers to prayer has been — "

      "Yuh, swell lot of experience you've had, by your looks!"

      "See here, there are others who may want to hear — "

      Though Elmer detested Eddie's sappiness, though he might have liked to share drinks with the lively young baker-heckler, there was no really good unctuous violence to be had except by turning champion of religion. The packed crowd excited him, and the pressure of rough bodies, the smell of wet overcoats, the rumble of mob voices. It was like a football line-up.

      "Here, you!" he roared at the baker. "Let the fellow speak! Give him a chance. Whyn't you pick on somebody your own size, you big stiff!"

      At his elbow, Jim Lefferts begged, "Let's get out of this, Hell-cat. Good Lord! You ain't going to help a gospel-peddler!"

      Elmer pushed him away and thrust his chest out toward the baker, who was cackling, "Heh! I suppose you're a Christer, too!"

      "I would be, if I was worthy!" Elmer fully believed it, for that delightful moment. "These boys are classmates of mine, and they're going to have a chance to speak!"

      Eddie Fislinger bleated to his mates, "Oh, fellows, Elm Gantry! Saved!"

      Even this alarming interpretation of his motives could not keep Elmer now from the holy zeal of fighting. He thrust aside the one aged man who stood between him and the baker — bashing in the aged one's derby and making him telescope like a turtle's neck — and stood with his fist working like a connecting-rod by his side.

      "If you're looking for trouble — " the baker suggested, clumsily wobbling his huge bleached fists.

      "Not me," observed Elmer and struck, once, very judiciously, just at the point of the jaw.

      The baker shook like a skyscraper in an earthquake and caved to the earth.

      One of the baker's pals roared, "Come on, we'll kill them guys and — "

      Elmer caught him on the left ear. It was a very cold ear, and the pal staggered, extremely sick. Elmer looked pleased. But he did not feel pleased. He was almost sober, and he realized that half a dozen rejoicing young workmen were about to rush him. Though he had an excellent opinion of himself, he had seen too much football, as played by denominational colleges with the Christian accompaniments of kneeing and gouging, to imagine that he could beat half a dozen workmen at once.

      It is doubtful whether he would ever have been led to further association with the Lord and Eddie Fislinger had not Providence intervened in its characteristically mysterious way. The foremost of the attackers was just reaching for Elmer when the mob shouted, "Look out! The cops!"