He was a plump, balding, kindly looking little man. He seemed dumfounded one day last October to find reporters outside his $35-a-month apartment in Queens. Was he Gerhart Eisler? Yes, yes, he was. Well—he had just been accused of being the No. I U.S. Communist, the Brain, the big tap on the wire to Moscow. How about it?
Eisler acted as though he did not understand. Who had said this? A man who knew him—Louis Francis Budenz, ex-managing editor of Manhattan's Daily Worker. Eisler peered through his hornrimmed spectacles with a gentle...
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