looking down at the packed dirt and he watched Hyde’s shadow shake its head. “Well, I’ll tell you, Daniel was at a feast in Belshazzar’s court when some writing mysteriously appeared on the walls. No one could read this writing except Daniel, who said it predicted Belshazzar’s death, followed by the division of his kingdom. That’s why we still say ‘read the writing on the wall.’” Norris took his billfold from his coat, counted out five one-dollar bills. “You should study your Bible.” He handed the money to Hyde and said, “You find him. Or you don’t get another penny from me.”
IN Chicago, Czolgosz spent an entire afternoon pacing the sidewalk in front of Abraham Isaak’s house on Carroll Street. Isaak’s wife, Mary, a heavyset woman who wore a cardigan despite the heat, frequently peeked out from behind the curtains. Finally, Abraham Isaak came outside in his shirtsleeves.
“I know who you are,” he said. There was a bit of scrambled egg in his full beard.
“I wish to see Emma Goldman.”
“She’s not here.”
“When will she be back?”
“That’s none of your business,” Isaak said, looking up and down the street.
“I only want to talk to her.”
“Who are you working for?”
“No one.”
“She’s not here. She’s not in Chicago.”
“Where is she?” Czolgosz pleaded. “You remember me, don’t you? I came here in July. She was preparing to go to the train station with your daughter. I helped you with the luggage. They were going to Rochester, to visit Emma’s family, and then they were going to visit the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. She hasn’t returned?”
“I know what you’re up to,” Isaak said. “They send men to watch us all the time, but they don’t have the
nerve
to stand right here in front of our house!”
“I only wish to speak to her—”
Isaak started up the stairs to his front door, saying over his shoulder, “You keep away from her. You keep away from
us!”
Czolgosz returned to his boardinghouse and spent much of the next few days in bed because his catarrh was particularly bad. He had clogged sinuses, a sore throat, sneezing fits, a hacking cough, headaches, and dizziness. Though he tried various remedies, nothing worked. He was convinced he would die young, which caused him to worry about his place in history.
At night, when a cool breeze came in off Lake Michigan, he felt a little better and he walked the city streets. He brought English and Polish newspapers back to his room and read everything in them. There was little truth or comfort in the opinions expressed in their pages, though he was particularly drawn to advertisements for elixirs, nostrums, and other health aids: Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound; Syrup of Figs Laxative; Dr. McLaughlin’s Electric Belt, which “stops the drain upon a young man’s vitality.” But it was next to a Sozodent Tooth Powder advertisement (“Good for Bad Teeth. Not Bad for Good Teeth.”) that he read that the president’s visit to the Pan-American Exposition had been rescheduled for the first week of September. The original plan had been that McKinley would pay a visit to Buffalo on his return from his tour of the western states in the spring, but Mrs. McKinley had taken ill. In El Paso the president’s physician,Dr. Presley Rixey, lanced a bone felon on her finger, but when the entourage reached California the first lady collapsed. The president’s train sped north to San Francisco, where the first lady could rest. Her condition grew worse and the press reported that arrangements had been made for a funeral train. The president’s entire schedule had been canceled. But the first lady, as she had done before, rallied, and her health stabilized. They returned to their home in Canton, Ohio, where they spent the summer while she recuperated. Czolgosz wasn’t sure what a bone felon was, but he realized that the first lady’s illness had given him an opportunity.
On the last
IN Chicago, Czolgosz spent an entire afternoon pacing the sidewalk in front of Abraham Isaak’s house on Carroll Street. Isaak’s wife, Mary, a heavyset woman who wore a cardigan despite the heat, frequently peeked out from behind the curtains. Finally, Abraham Isaak came outside in his shirtsleeves.
“I know who you are,” he said. There was a bit of scrambled egg in his full beard.
“I wish to see Emma Goldman.”
“She’s not here.”
“When will she be back?”
“That’s none of your business,” Isaak said, looking up and down the street.
“I only want to talk to her.”
“Who are you working for?”
“No one.”
“She’s not here. She’s not in Chicago.”
“Where is she?” Czolgosz pleaded. “You remember me, don’t you? I came here in July. She was preparing to go to the train station with your daughter. I helped you with the luggage. They were going to Rochester, to visit Emma’s family, and then they were going to visit the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. She hasn’t returned?”
“I know what you’re up to,” Isaak said. “They send men to watch us all the time, but they don’t have the
nerve
to stand right here in front of our house!”
“I only wish to speak to her—”
Isaak started up the stairs to his front door, saying over his shoulder, “You keep away from her. You keep away from
us!”
Czolgosz returned to his boardinghouse and spent much of the next few days in bed because his catarrh was particularly bad. He had clogged sinuses, a sore throat, sneezing fits, a hacking cough, headaches, and dizziness. Though he tried various remedies, nothing worked. He was convinced he would die young, which caused him to worry about his place in history.
At night, when a cool breeze came in off Lake Michigan, he felt a little better and he walked the city streets. He brought English and Polish newspapers back to his room and read everything in them. There was little truth or comfort in the opinions expressed in their pages, though he was particularly drawn to advertisements for elixirs, nostrums, and other health aids: Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound; Syrup of Figs Laxative; Dr. McLaughlin’s Electric Belt, which “stops the drain upon a young man’s vitality.” But it was next to a Sozodent Tooth Powder advertisement (“Good for Bad Teeth. Not Bad for Good Teeth.”) that he read that the president’s visit to the Pan-American Exposition had been rescheduled for the first week of September. The original plan had been that McKinley would pay a visit to Buffalo on his return from his tour of the western states in the spring, but Mrs. McKinley had taken ill. In El Paso the president’s physician,Dr. Presley Rixey, lanced a bone felon on her finger, but when the entourage reached California the first lady collapsed. The president’s train sped north to San Francisco, where the first lady could rest. Her condition grew worse and the press reported that arrangements had been made for a funeral train. The president’s entire schedule had been canceled. But the first lady, as she had done before, rallied, and her health stabilized. They returned to their home in Canton, Ohio, where they spent the summer while she recuperated. Czolgosz wasn’t sure what a bone felon was, but he realized that the first lady’s illness had given him an opportunity.
On the last
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