The conspirator paid another call on his Uncle Jesse. This time no one answered his knock, so he poked a note under the door, saying he would return at seven. He had pressing duties, and the only time he could get free was by skipping his dinner; he bought a couple of bananas and ate them in the taxi, donating the dinner to the German babies. On his second call the uncle was waiting; Lanny, explaining that he had to attend a night session of one of the commissions, got down to business at once. “Uncle Jesse, do you agree that the blockade of Central Europe should be lifted?”
“I am an internationalist,” replied the other. “I am opposed to every such interference with human liberty.”
“You know people who are working to have it lifted — I mean they are writing and publishing and speaking in support of that demand, aren't they?”
“Yes; but what-?”
“I have a friend, who for important reasons cannot be named. It's enough that I know him intimately, and trust him. He feels about this blockade as you do, and it happens that he has a great deal of money. He asked me to suggest some way that he could put money into the hands of someone who would spend it for that purpose. I took the liberty of naming you.”
“The devil you did!” said Uncle Jesse. “What then?”
“You realize that I don't know you very well — I haven't been allowed to. But I have the impression that you have real convictions, and wouldn't misapply funds that you accepted for such a cause.”
“You have guessed correctly in that.”
“No doubt you have friends who are trying to raise money for promoting your party, or whatever it is?”
“We get it by persuading poor workingmen to cut down on their food. We don't have rich people coming and dropping it into our laps.”