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Mary Louise and the Liberty Girl=
s
By
L. Frank Baum
(AKA Edith Van Dyne)
JUST
A WORD
The object of this
little story is not especially to encourage loyalty and devotion to one's
country, for these are sentiments firmly enshrined in the hearts of all true
American girls. It is rather intended to show what important tasks girls may
accomplish when spurred on by patriotism, and that none is too humble to
substantially serve her country.
Organizations of
Liberty Girls are possible in every city and hamlet in America, and are
effective not only in times of war but in times of peace, for always their
Country needs them--always there is work for their busy hands.
One other message=
the
story hopes to carry--the message of charity towards all and malice towards
none. When shadows are darkest, those who can lighten the gloom are indeed =
the
blessed ones.
EDITH VAN DYNE
Contents
CHAPTER II MARY LOUIS=
E TAKES
COMMAND
CHAPTER III THE LIBER=
TY GIRLS
CHAPTER V UNCONVINCING
TESTIMONY
CHAPTER VI. TO HELP W=
IN THE
WAR
CHAPTER VII THE LIBER=
TY SHOP
CHAPTER VIII THE DETE=
CTIVE'S
DAUGHTER
CHAPTER IX GATHERING =
UP THE
THREADS
CHAPTER XII JOSIE BUY=
S A DESK
CHAPTER XIII JOE LANG=
LEY,
SOLDIER
CHAPTER XIV THE PROFE=
SSOR IS
ANNOYED
CHAPTER XV SUSPENDERS=
FOR
SALE
CHAPTER XVI MRS. CHAR=
LEWORTH
CHAPTER XVII THE BLACK
SATCHEL
CHAPTER XVIII A HINT =
FEOM
ANNIE BOYLE
CHAPTER XIX THE PRINT=
ING
OFFICE
CHAPTER XXII A SLIGHT=
MISTAKE
CHAPTER XXIII THE FLA=
SHLIGHT
CHAPTER XXIV AFTER TH=
E CRISIS
One might reasona=
bly
think that "all Dorfield" had turned out to attend the much
advertised meeting. The masses completely filled the big public square. The
flaring torches, placed at set intervals, lighted fitfully the faces of the
people--faces sober, earnest, thoughtful--all turned in the direction of the
speakers' platform.
Mr. Peter Conant,=
the
Chairman, a prominent attorney of Dorfield, was introducing the orator of t=
he
evening, Colonel James Hathaway, whose slender, erect form and handsome
features crowned with snow-white hair, arrested the attention of all.
"You have be=
en
told," began the old colonel in a clear, ringing voice, "of our
Nation's imperative needs. Money must be provided to conduct the great war =
on
which we have embarked--money for our new army, money for ship-building, mo=
ney
for our allies. And the people of America are permitted to show their loyal=
ty
and patriotism by subscribing for bonds--bonds of the rich and powerful Uni=
ted
States--that all may participate in our noble struggle for the salvation of
democracy and the peace of the world. These bonds, which you are asked to b=
uy,
bear interest; you will be investing in the Corporation of Right, Justice a=
nd
Freedom, with the security of the Nation as your shield. As a stockholder in
this noblest of corporations you risk nothing, but you gain the distinction=
of
personally assisting to defeat Civilization's defiant and ruthless enemy.&q=
uot;
Loud applause
interrupted the speaker. On one of the rows of seats at the back of the sta=
nd
sat Mary Louise Burrows, the granddaughter of Colonel Hathaway, with severa=
l of
her girl friends, and her heart leaped with pride to witness the ovation
accorded her dear "Gran'pa Jim."=
With well chosen
words the old gentleman continued his discourse, stating succinctly the
necessity of the Liberty Bond issue and impressing upon his hearers the
righteousness of the cause for which this money was required.
"The allotme=
nt
of Dorfield," he added, "is one million dollars, seemingly a huge=
sum
for our little city to raise and invest, but really insignificant when
apportioned among those who can afford to subscribe. There is not a man amo=
ng
you who cannot without hardship purchase at least one fifty-dollar bond. Ma=
ny
of you can invest thousands. Yet we are approaching our time limit and, so =
far,
less than two hundred thousand dollars' worth of these magnificent Liberty
Bonds have been purchased in our community! But five days remain to us to s=
ubscribe
the remaining eight hundred thousand dollars, and thereby preserve the hono=
r of
our fair city. That eight hundred thousand dollars will be subscribed! We m=
ust
subscribe it; else will the finger of scorn justly be pointed at us forever
after."
Another round of
applause. Mr. Conant, and Mr. Jaswell, the banker, and other prominent memb=
ers
of the Liberty Loan Committee began to look encouraged and to take heart.
"Of course
they'll subscribe it!" whispered Mary Louise to her friend Alora Jones.
"The thing has looked like a failure, lately, but I knew if Gran'pa Jim
talked to the slackers, they'd see their plain duty. Gran'pa Jim knows how =
to
stir them to action."
Gradually the
applause subsided. The faces of the multitude that thronged about the stand
seemed to Mary Louise stern and resolved, determined to prove their loyalty=
and
devotion to their country.
And now Mr. Jaswe=
ll
advanced and seated himself at a table, while Mr. Conant requested those
present to come forward and enter their subscriptions for the bonds. He urg=
ed
them to subscribe generously, in proportion to their means, and asked them =
not
to crowd but to pass in line across the platform as swiftly as possible.
"Let us raise
that entire eight hundred thousand to-night!" shouted the Colonel, in
clarion tones. Then the band struck up a popular war tune, and the banker d=
ipped
a pen in ink and held it ready for the onslaught of signers.
But no one came
forward. Each man looked curiously at his neighbor but stood fast in his pl=
ace.
The city, even to its furthermost suburbs, had already been systematically
canvassed by the Committee and their efforts had resulted in a bare two hun=
dred
thousand dollars. Of this sum, Colonel Hathaway had himself subscribed
twenty-five thousand. Noting the hesitation of his townsmen, the old gentle=
man
again arose and faced them. The band had stopped playing and there was an
ominous silence.
"Let me
encourage you," said Colonel Hathaway, "by taking another twenty-=
five
thousand dollars' worth of these wonderful bonds. Put me down for that amou=
nt,
Mr. Jaswell. Now, then, who are the patriots eager to follow my lead!"=
There was
applause--somewhat more mild in character--but none came forward. Alora's
father, Jason Jones, who had already signed for fifty thousand dollars, rose
and added another twenty-five thousand to that sum. This act elicited anoth=
er
ripple of applause; more questioning looks were exchanged between those
assembled, but there were no further offers to subscribe.
The hearts of the
committeemen fell. Was this meeting, on which they had so greatly depended,
destined to prove a failure, after all?&nb=
sp;
Jake Kasker, the
owner of "Kasker's Clothing Emporium," finally made his way to the
platform and mounting the steps faced his townspeople. There was a little
murmur of surprise and a sudden tension. The man had been distrusted in
Dorfield, of late.
"You all know
what I think about this war," said Kasker in a loud voice and with a
slight German accent. "I don't approve of it, whatever anyone says, an=
d I
think we were wrong to get into it, anyhow."
A storm of hisses=
and
cries of "Shame!" saluted him, but he waited stolidly for the
demonstration to subside. Then he continued:
"But, whatev=
er I
think about the war, I want to tell you that this flag that now waves over =
my
head is as much my flag as it is yours, for I'm an American citizen. Where =
that
flag goes, Jake Kasker will follow, no matter what fools carry the standard=
. If
they don't think I'm too old to go to France, I'll pack up and go to-morrow.
That's Jake Kasker--with a Dutch name but a Yankee heart. Some of you down
there got Yankee names an' hearts that make the Kaiser laugh. I wouldn't tr=
ade with
you! Now, hear this: I ain't rich; you know that; but I'll take two thousand
dollars' worth of Liberty Bonds."&nbs=
p;
Some one laughed, jeeringly. Another shouted: <= o:p>
"Make it thr=
ee
thousand, Jake!"
"I will,&quo=
t;
said Kasker; "and, if there ain't enough of you war-crazy, yellow-hear=
ted
patriots in Dorfield to take what we got to take, then I'll make it five
thousand. But if I have to do that--an' I can't afford it, but I'll do
it!--it's me, Jake Kasker, that'll cry 'Shame!' and hiss like a goose whene=
ver
you slackers pass my door."
There was more
laughter, a few angry shouts, and a movement toward the platform. The German
signed the paper Mr. Jaswell placed before him and withdrew. Soon there was=
a
line extending from the banker's table to the crowd below, and the signatur=
es
for bonds were slowly but steadily secured.
Colonel Hathaway
faced the German clothier, who stood a few paces back, a cynical grin upon =
his
features.
"Thank you,
Kasker," said the old gentleman, in a cold voice. "You have really
helped us, although you should have omitted those traitorous words. They
poisoned a deed you might have been proud of."
"We don't ag=
ree,
Colonel," replied Kasker, with a shrug. "When I talk, I'm honest;=
I
say what I think." He turned and walked away and Colonel Hathaway look=
ed
after him with an expression of dislike.&n=
bsp;
"I wonder wh=
y he
did it?" whispered Mary Louise, who had overheard the exchange of words
and marked Kasker's dogged opposition.&nbs=
p;
"He bought t=
he
bonds as a matter of business," replied Laura Hilton. "It's a safe
investment, and Kasker knows it. Besides that, he may have an idea it would
disarm suspicion."
"Also,"
added Alora Jones, "he took advantage of the opportunity to slam the w=
ar.
That was worth something to a man like Kasker."
When Mary Louise
entered the library the next morning she found her grandfather seated at the
table, his head resting on his extended arms in an attitude of great
depression. The young girl was startled.&n=
bsp;
"What is it,
Gran'pa Jim?" she asked, going to his side and laying a hand lovingly =
on
his shoulder.
The old gentleman
looked up with a face drawn and gray.
"I'm nervous=
and
restless, my dear," he said; "that's all. Go to breakfast, Mary
Louise; I--I'll join you presently."&=
nbsp;
She sat down on t=
he
arm of his chair.
"Haven't you
slept well, Gran'pa?" she asked anxiously, and then her eyes wandered
through the open door to the next room and rested on the undisturbed bed.
"Why, you haven't slept at all, dear!" she cried in distress.
"What is wrong? Are you ill?"&nb=
sp;
"No, no, Mary
Louise; don't worry. I--I shall be all right presently. But--I was terribly
disappointed in last night's meeting, and--"
"I see. They
didn't subscribe what they ought to. But you can't help that, Gran'pa Jim! =
You
did all that was possible, and you mustn't take it so much to heart."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"It is so
important, child; more important, I fear, than many of them guess. This wil=
l be
a desperate war, and without the money to fight--"
"Oh, the
money'll come, Gran'pa; I'm sure of that. If Dorfield doesn't do it's duty,=
the
rest of the country will, so you mustn't feel badly about our failure. In f=
act,
we haven't failed, as yet. How much did they subscribe last night?"
"In all, a
hundred and thirty thousand. We have now secured barely a third of our
allotment, and only five days more to get the balance!"
Mary Louise
reflected, eyeing him seriously.
"Gran'pa,&qu=
ot;
said she, "you've worn yourself out with work and worry. They ought no=
t to
have put you on this Liberty Bond Committee; you're too old, and you're not
well or strong enough to endure all the anxiety and hard work."
"For the hon=
or
of--"
"Yes, I know,
dear. Our country needs you, so you mustn't break down. Now come and drink a
cup of coffee and I'll talk to you. I've a secret to tell you."
He smiled, rather
wanly and hopelessly, but he permitted the girl to assist him to rise and to
lead him to the breakfast room. There Mary Louise poured his coffee and
attacked her own breakfast, although with indifferent appetite.
Gran'pa Jim was t=
he
only relative she had in all the world and she loved him devotedly. Their l=
ife
in the pretty little town had been peaceful and happy until recently--until=
the
war. But the old Colonel, loyal veteran that he was, promptly made it his w=
ar
and was roused as Mary Louise had never seen him roused before. In his mind=
was
no question of the justice of our country's participation in the world stru=
ggle;
he was proud to be an American and gloried in America's sacrifice to the ca=
use
of humanity. Too old to fight on the battlefield, he felt honored at his
appointment to the membership of the Liberty Bond Committee and threw all h=
is
energies into the task assigned him. So it is easy to understand that the
coldness and reluctance to subscribe for bonds on the part of his fellow
townsmen had well nigh broken his heart.&n=
bsp;
This the girl, his
closest companion, fully appreciated.
"Gran'pa,&qu=
ot;
she said, regarding him across the table after their old black mammy, Aunt
Sally, had left them together, "I love my country, as you know; but I =
love
you better."
"Oh, Mary
Louise!"
"It's true; =
and
it's right that I should. If I had to choose between letting the Germans
capture the United States, or losing you, I'd let the Germans come! That's
honest, and it's the way I feel. Love for one's country is a fine sentiment,
but my love for you is deeper. I wouldn't whisper this to anyone else, for =
no
one else could understand it, but you will understand it, Gran'pa Jim, and =
you
know my love for you doesn't prevent my still being as good an American as =
the
average. However," continued the young girl, in a lighter tone, "=
I've
no desire to lose you or allow the Germans to whip us, if I can help it, so
I've got two battles to fight. The truth is, Gran'pa, that you're used up w=
ith
the hard work of the last few weeks, and another five days of begging for
subscriptions would wreck you entirely. So you're to stop short--this very
minute--and rest up and take it easy and not worry."
"But--my
dear!"
"See here,
Gran'pa Jim," with assumed sternness, "you've worked hard to secu=
re
Dorfield's quota, and you've failed. Why, the biggest subscribers for bonds=
in
the whole city are you and Jason Jones! There's plenty of wealth in Dorfiel=
d,
and over at the mills and factories are thousands of workmen who can buy bo=
nds;
but you and your Committee don't know how to interest the people in your
proposition. The people are loyal enough, but they don't understand, and you
don't understand how to make them understand."
"No," he
said, shaking his head dolefully, "they're a dense lot, and we can't m=
ake
them understand."
"Well, I
can," said Mary Louise, cheerfully.&n=
bsp;
"You,
child?"
"Yes. You
mustn't imagine I've tackled the problem this very morning; I've been
considering it for some time, and I've talked and consulted with Alora and
Irene and Laura and the other girls about the best way to redeem the situat=
ion.
We knew the situation was desperate long before last night's meeting. So all
our plans are made, and we believe we can sell all the bonds required. It w=
as
our policy to keep silent until we knew what the big mass-meeting last night
would accomplish, but we suspected it would turn out just the way it did--a
fizzle. So the job's up to us, and if you'll sit quiet, Gran'pa Jim, and le=
t us
girls do the work, we'll put Dorfield in the honor column by Saturday night=
."
"This is
nonsense!" exclaimed the Colonel, but there was an accent of hope in h=
is
voice, nevertheless.
"We girls are
thoroughly organized," said Mary Louise, "and we'll sell the
bonds."
"Girls!"=
;
"Why, just t=
hink
of it, Gran'pa. Who would refuse a group of young girls--earnest and
enthusiastic girls? The trouble with you men is that you accept all sorts of
excuses. They tell you they're hard up and can't spare the money; there's a
mortgage to pay, or taxes or notes to meet, and they can't afford it, anywa=
y.
But that kind of talk won't do when we girls get after them."
"What argume=
nts
can you use that we have disregarded?"
"First, we'll
coax; then we'll appeal to their patriotism; then we'll threaten them with
scorn and opprobrium, which they'll richly deserve if they hang on till it
comes to that. If the threats don't make 'em buy, we'll cry--and every tear
will sell a bond!"
The Colonel stirr=
ed
his coffee thoughtfully.
"You might t=
ry
it," he suggested. "I've read that in some cities the Boy Scouts =
have
been successful in placing the bonds. It's an honorable undertaking, in any
event, but--I hope you will meet with no insults."
"If that rank
pro-German, Jake Kasker, will buy bonds, there isn't a man in Dorfield who =
can
give a logical excuse for not doing likewise," declared Mary Louise.
"I'm going to use Kasker to shame the rest of them. But, before I
undertake this job, I shall make a condition, Gran'pa. You must stay quietl=
y at
home while we girls do the work."&nbs=
p;
"Oh, I could= not do that, Mary Louise." <= o:p>
"You're not =
fit
to leave the house. Will you try my plan for one day--just for to-day."=
;
"I'll think =
it
over, dear," he said, rising. <=
/span>
She assisted him =
to
the library and then ran down the street to the doctor's office.
"Dr.
McGruer," she said, "go over at once and see my grandfather. He's=
completely
exhausted with the work of selling Liberty Bonds. Be sure you order him to =
keep
at home and remain quiet--at least for to-day."
An hour later six
girls met at the home of Alora Jones, who lived with her father in a fine
mansion across the street from Colonel Hathaway's residence. These girls we=
re
prepared to work, and work diligently, under the leadership of Mary Louise,=
for
they had been planning and discussing this event for several days, patiently
awaiting the word to start their campaign.=
"Some
girls," said Mary Louise, "are knitting, and that's a good thing =
to
do, in a way. Others are making pajamas and pillows for the Red Cross, and
that's also an admirable thing to do. But our duty lies on a higher plane, =
for
we're going to get money to enable Uncle Sam to take care of our soldier
boys."
"Do--do you
think we can make people buy bonds?" asked little Laura Hilton, with a
trace of doubt in her voice. =
Mary Louise gave =
her
a severe look.
"We not only
can, but we shall make people buy," she replied. "We shall ask th=
em
very prettily, and they cannot refuse us. We've all been loaded to the brim
with arguments, if arguments are necessary, but we haven't time to gossip w=
ith
folks. A whole lot of money must be raised, and there's a short time to do =
it
in."
"Seems to
me," remarked Edna Barlow, earnestly, "we're wasting time just no=
w.
Let's get busy."
"Well, get on
your costumes, girls," suggested Alora Jones. "They are all here,=
in
this big box, and the banners are standing in the hall. It's after nine, no=
w,
and by ten o'clock we must all be at work."
They proceeded to
dress themselves in the striking costumes they had secretly prepared; a blue
silk waist with white stars scattered over it, a red-and-white striped skir=
t,
the stripes running from waistband to hem, a "Godess of Liberty" =
cap
and white canvas shoes. Attired in this fashion, the "Liberty Girls,&q=
uot;
as they had dubbed themselves, presented a most attractive and patriotic
appearance, and as they filed out through the hall each seized a handsome s=
ilken
banner, gold fringed, which bore the words: "Buy Bonds of Dorfield's
Liberty Girls."
"Now,
then," said Mary Louise, "we have each been allotted a certain di=
strict
in the business part of the city, for which we are individually responsible.
Each one knows what she is expected to do. Let no one escape. If any man cl=
aims
to have already bought bonds, make him buy more. And remember, we're all to
meet at my house at one o'clock for luncheon, and to report progress."=
A block away they
secured seats in a streetcar and a few minutes thereafter reached the
"Four Corners," the intersection of the two principal streets of
Dorfield. But on the way they had sold old Jonathan Dodd, who happened to b=
e in
the car and was overawed by the display of red-white-and-blue, two hundred
dollars' worth of bonds. As for old man Dodd, he realized he was trapped and
bought his limit with a sigh of resignation.
As they separated=
at
the Four Corners, each to follow her appointed route, many surprised, if not
startled, citizens regarded the Liberty Girls with approving eyes. They were
pretty girls, all of them, and their silken costumes were really becoming. =
The
patriots gazed admiringly; the more selfish citizens gave a little shiver of
dismay and scurried off to escape meeting these aggressive ones, whose gorg=
eous
banners frankly proclaimed their errand.&n=
bsp;
Mary Louise enter=
ed
the bank on the corner and made inquiry for Mr. Jaswell, the president.
"We're off at
last, sir," she said, smiling at his bewildered looks, "and we gi=
rls
are determined to make the Dorfield people do their full duty. May we depend
upon your bank to fulfill your promises, and carry those bond buyers who wi=
sh
to make time payments?" =
"To be sure,=
my
dear," replied the banker. "I'd no idea you young ladies were to =
wear
uniforms. But you certainly look fascinating, if you're a fair sample of the
others, and I don't see how anyone can refuse to back up our girls in their
patriotic 'drive.' God bless you, Mary Louise, and help you to achieve your
noble object."
There were many
offices in the building, above the bank, and the girl visited every one of
them. Her appearance, garbed in the national colors and bearing her banner,=
was
a sign of conquest, for it seemed to these busy men as if Uncle Sam himself=
was
backing this crusade and all their latent patriotism was stirred to the dep=
ths.
So they surrendered at discretion and signed for the bonds.
Mary Louise was
modest and sweet in demeanor; her pleas were as pleasant as they were
persuasive; there was nothing virulent or dominant in her attitude. But when
she said: "Really, Mr. So-and-so, you ought to take more bonds than th=
at;
you can afford it and our country needs the money," the argument was
generally effective, and when she had smilingly pinned the bond button on a
man's coat and passed on to interview others, she left him wondering why he=
had
bought more bonds than he ever had intended to, or even provoked with himse=
lf that
he had subscribed at all. These were the people who had generally resisted =
all
former pleadings of the regular committee and had resolved to ignore the bo=
nd
sale altogether. But perhaps their chagrin was equalled by their satisfacti=
on
in having been won over by a pretty girl, whose manner and appearance were
alike irresistible.
The men of Dorfie=
ld
are a fair sample of men everywhere. At this period the full meaning of the
responsibilities we had assumed in this tremendous struggle was by no means
fully realized. The war was too far away, and life at home was still runnin=
g in
its accustomed grooves. They could not take the European war to themselves,=
nor
realize that it might sweep away their prosperity, their liberties--even th=
eir
homes. Fear had not yet been aroused; pity for our suffering and hard-press=
ed allies
was still lightly considered; the war had not struck home to the hearts of =
the
people as it has since. I doubt if even Mary Louise fully realized the vital
importance of the work she had undertaken.=
When the Liberty
Girls met at Colonel Hathaway's for a light luncheon, their eyes were spark=
ling
with enthusiasm and their cheeks rosy from successful effort. Their individ=
ual
sales varied, of course, for some were more tactful and winning than others,
but all had substantial results to report. "We've taken Dorfield by
storm!" was their exultant cry.
"Altogether,=
"
said Mary Louise, figuring up the amounts, "we've sold thirty-two thou=
sand
dollars' worth of bonds this morning. That's encouraging for three hours' w=
ork,
but it's not enough to satisfy us. We must put in a busy afternoon and try =
to
get a total of at least one hundred thousand by to-night. To-morrow we must=
do
better than that. Work as late as you can, girls, and at eight o'clock we w=
ill
meet again at Alora's house and compare results."
The girls needed =
no
urging to resume their work, for already they had gained confidence in their
ability and were inspired to renewed effort.
Mary Louise had
optimistic plans for that afternoon's work. She first visited the big flour
mill, where she secured an interview with Mr. Chisholme, the president and
general manager.
"We can't buy
bonds," he said peevishly. "Our business is being ruined by the h=
igh
price of wheat and the absurd activities of Hoover. We stand to operate at a
loss or else shut down altogether. The government ought to pay us compensat=
ion,
instead of asking us to contribute to the war."
"However, if=
we
fail to win the war," Mary Louise quietly replied, "your enormous
investment here will become worthless. Isn't it better to lose a little now,
for the sake of future winnings, than to sacrifice the past and future and =
be
reduced to poverty? We are asking you to save yourself from threatened
danger--the national calamity that would follow our defeat in this war.&quo=
t;
He sat back in his
chair and looked at the girl in amazement. She was rather young to have
conceived such ideas.
"Well, there=
's
time enough to consider all that," he said, less gruffly. "You'll
have to excuse me now, Miss Burrows. I'm busy."
But Mary Louise k=
ept
her seat and redoubled her arguments, which were logical and straight to the
point. Mr. Chisholme's attitude might have embarrassed her had she been
pleading a personal favor, but she felt she was the mouthpiece of the
President, of the Nation, of worldwide democracy, and would not allow herse=
lf
to feel annoyed. She devoted three-quarters of an hour to Mr. Chisholme, who
gradually thawed in her genial sunshine. She finally sold him fifty thousand
dollars worth of Liberty Bonds and went on her way elated. The regular Bond
Committee had labored for weeks with this stubborn man, who managed one of =
the largest
enterprises in Dorfield, yet they had signally failed to convince him or to
induce him to subscribe a dollar. The girl had succeeded in less than an ho=
ur,
and sold him exactly the amount he should have bought.
The mill subscrip=
tion
was a powerful leverage with which to pry money from other reluctant ones.
Stacks, Sellem & Stacks, the big department store heretofore resisting =
all
appeals, bought from Mary Louise bonds to the amount of twenty-five thousan=
d;
the Denis Hardware Company took ten thousand. Then Mary Louise met her first
serious rebuff. She went into Silas Herring's wholesale grocery establishme=
nt
and told Mr. Herring she wanted to sell him bonds.
"This is
outrageous!" cried Herring indignantly. "When the men can't rob u=
s,
or force us to back England in her selfish schemes, they set girls on us to
wheedle us out of money we have honestly earned. This hold-up game won't wo=
rk,
I assure you, and I advise you to get into more respectable business. My mo=
ney
is mine; it doesn't belong to the Allies, and they won't get a cent of
it." He was getting more angry as he proceeded in his harangue.
"Moreover," he continued, "our weak administration can't use=
me
to help it out of the hole it has foolishly stumbled into, or make America =
the
cat's-paw to pull British chestnuts out of the fire. You ought to be ashame=
d,
Miss Burrows, to lend yourself to such unpatriotic methods of bulldozing ho=
nest
citizens!"
Mary Louise was
distressed, but undaunted. The man was monstrously wrong, and she knew it.
Sitting in Mr. Herring's private office at the time were Professor John Dye=
r,
the superintendent of Dorfield's schools, and the Hon. Andrew Duncan, a lea=
ding
politician, a former representative and now one of the county supervisors. =
The
girl looked at Professor Dyer, whom she knew slightly, and said pleadingly:=
"Won't you
defend our administration and our country, Mr. Dyer?"
He smiled
deprecatingly but did not speak. He was a tall, lean man, quite round-shoul=
dered
and of studious appearance. He wore double eyeglasses, underneath which his
eyes were somewhat watery. The smile upon his thin features was a stationary
one, not as if assumed, but molded with the features and lacking geniality.=
It was the Hon.
Andrew Duncan who answered the Liberty Girl.
"The differe=
nce
between Mr. Herring and eighty percent of the American people," said h=
e in
stilted, pompous tones, "is that our friend Herring unwisely voices his
protest, while the others merely think--and consider it the part of wisdom =
to
say nothing."
"I don't bel=
ieve
that!" cried Mary Louise indignantly. "The American people are lo=
yal
to their President. There may be a few traitors; we're gradually discovering
them; but--"
"I am
busy," Herring interrupted her, scowling, and he swung his chair so th=
at
his back was toward her.
"You won't be
busy long, if you keep talking that way," predicted the girl.
"Tut-tut!&qu=
ot;
said the Hon. Andrew, warningly. "Your threats, young lady, are as unw=
ise
as Mr. Herring's speech."
"But they ca=
rry
more weight," she asserted stoutly. "Do you think any grocery man=
in
Dorfield would buy goods of Mr. Herring if he knew him to be disloyal in th=
is,
our country's greatest crisis? And they're going to know it, if I have to v=
isit
each one and tell him myself what Mr. Herring has said."
A tense, if momen=
tary
silence, followed, broken by the Professor, who now said in his smooth,
unctuous way:
"Mr. Herring=
's
blunt expression of his sentiments was not intended for other ears than our=
s, I
am sure. In confidence, one may say many things to friends which he would
prefer to withhold from an indiscriminating public. We are well assured,
indeed, that Mr. Herring is a loyal American, with America's best interests=
at
heart, but he does not regard our present national activities as leniently =
as
we do. I have been endeavoring, in my humble way, to change his attitude of
mind," here Herring swung around and looked at the speaker stolidly,
"and though I admit he is a bit obstinate, I venture to assure you, Mi=
ss Burrows,
that Silas Herring will stand by the Stars and Stripes as long as there is a
shred of our banner to wave in the breeze of freedom, justice and
democracy."
A cynical smile
gradually settled on the grocer's stern face. The Hon. Andrew was smiling w=
ith
undisguised cheerfulness.
"We are all
loyal--thoroughly loyal," said the latter. "I've bought some Libe=
rty
Bonds already, my girl, but you can put me down for a hundred dollars more.=
We
must support our country in every possible way, with effort, with money, wi=
th
our flesh and blood. I have no children, but my two nephews and a second co=
usin
are now in France!"
"For my
part," added Professor Dyer, "I have hesitated as to how much of =
my
meagre salary I can afford to spend. But I think I can handle five hundred
dollars' worth."
"Thank
you," said Mary Louise, somewhat puzzled by these offers. "It isn=
't
like risking the money; it's a solid investment in the best securities in t=
he
world."
"I know,&quo=
t;
returned the Professor, nodding gravely, "But I'm not thinking of that.
I'm a poor man, as you probably know, but what I have is at my country's
disposal, since it is evident that my country needs it."
"Doesn't that
shame you, sir?" asked Mary Louise brightly, as she turned to Silas
Herring. "You're a business man, and they say--although I confess I do=
ubt
it--that you're a loyal American. You can convince me of the fact by purcha=
sing
a liberal share of bonds. Then I can forget your dreadful words. Then I can
carry to everyone the news that you've made a splendid investment in Liberty
Bonds. Even if you honestly think the administration has been at fault, it
won't do any good to grumble. We are in this war, sir, and we've got to win=
it,
that you and every other American may enjoy prosperity and freedom. How much
shall I say that you have subscribed, Mr. Herring?"
He studied her fa=
ce,
his expression never changing. Mary Louise wondered if he could read her
suspicion and dislike of him, despite her efforts to smother those feelings=
in
the cause of Liberty. Then Herring looked at Professor Dyer, who stood meek=
ly,
with downcast eyes. Next the grocer gazed at the supervisor, who smiled in a
shrewd way and gave a brief nod.
Mr. Herring frown=
ed.
He drummed nervously with his fingers on his mahogany desk. Then he reached=
for
his check-book and with grim deliberation wrote a check and handed it to Ma=
ry
Louise.
"You've won,
young lady," he admitted. "I'm too good an American to approve wh=
at
has been done down at Washington, but I'll help keep our flag waving, as the
Professor suggests. When we've won our war--and of course we shall win--the=
re
will be a day of reckoning for every official who is judged by our citizens=
to
have been disloyal, however high his station. Good afternoon!"
The first impulse=
of Mary
Louise was to crumple up the check and throw it in the man's face, to show =
her
resentment of his base insinuations. But as she glanced at the check she sa=
w it
was for ten thousand dollars, and that meant sinews of war--help for our
soldiers and our allies. She couldn't thank the man, but she bowed coldly a=
nd
left the private office. Professor Dyer accompanied her and at the outer do=
or
he said to the girl:
"Silas Herri=
ng's
heart is in the right place, as you see by his generous check. Of course, h=
e might
have bought more bonds than that, as he is very wealthy, but he is an obsti=
nate
man and it is a triumph for our sacred cause that he was induced to buy at =
all.
You are doing a noble work, my child, and I admire you for having undertaken
the task. If I can be of service to you, pray command me."
"Urge everyo=
ne
you meet to buy bonds," suggested Mary Louise. She did not care to dis=
cuss
Silas Herring.
"I'll do tha=
t,
indeed," promised the school superintendent. But as he watched her dep=
art,
there was a queer expression on his lean face that it was well Mary Louise =
did
not see.
When the Liberty
Girls met that evening at the home of Alora Jones, it was found that Mary
Louise had sold more bonds than any of the others, although Laura Hilton had
secured one subscription of fifty thousand dollars from the Dorfield Nation=
al
Steel Works, the manager of which industry, Mr. Colton, was a relative of t=
he
girl. Altogether, the day's work had netted them two hundred and fourteen
thousand dollars, and as soon as she could escape Mary Louise rushed home to
report their success to her grandfather.&n=
bsp;
"In one day,
Gran'pa Jim!" she cried exultantly, and the old colonel's eyes sparkle=
d as
he replied:
"That makes =
our
great mass-meeting look pretty small; doesn't it, my dear? I consider it
wonderful! With four more such days our quota would be over-subscribed.&quo=
t;
"That's what=
we
shall try for," she declared, and then told him who the biggest bond
buyers had been--mostly those who had refused to listen to the regular
Committee or had not been influenced by their carefully prepared arguments.=
"It's just
because we are girls, and they are ashamed to refuse us," she
acknowledged. "It seems like taking an unfair advantage of them, I kno=
w,
but those who need urging and shaming, to induce them to respond loyally to=
the
nation's needs, deserve no consideration. We're not robbing them, either,&q=
uot;
she added, "but just inducing them to make a safe investment. Isn't th=
at
true, Gran'pa Jim?"
"What surpri=
ses
me most," he responded, "is how you ever managed to load your lit=
tle
head with so much mature wisdom. I'd no idea, Mary Louise, you were so
interested in the war and our national propaganda for waging it
successfully."
"Why, I read=
the
newspapers, you know, and I've listened to you spout patriotism, and ever s=
ince
we joined the Allies against Germany, my girl chums and I have been secretly
organized as a band of Liberty Girls, determined to do our bit in winning t=
he
war. This is the first chance, though, that we've ever had to show what we =
can
do, and we are very proud and happy to-night to realize that we're backing
Uncle Sam to some purpose."
"This war,&q=
uot;
remarked the old soldier, thoughtfully, "is bringing the women of all
nations into marked prominence, for it is undeniable that their fervid
patriotism outranks that of the men. But you are mere girls, and I marvel at
your sagacity and devotion, heretofore unsuspected. If you can follow to-da=
y's
success until Saturday, and secure our quota of subscriptions to the bonds,=
not
only Dorfield but all the nation will be proud of your achievement."
"We shall do=
our
best," replied the girl, simply, although her cheeks glowed pink under
such praise. "There are enough slackers still to be interviewed to bri=
ng
the quota up to the required amount and with to-day's success to hearten us=
, I
am sure we shall end the week triumphantly."
Next morning the
Liberty Girls sallied forth early, all six aglow with enthusiasm. Mary Loui=
se
consulted her carefully prepared list and found that her first calf was to =
be
at McGill's drug store. She found Mr. McGill looking over his morning's mai=
l,
but moments were precious, so she at once stated her errand.
The old druggist
glanced up at the girl under his spectacles, noted her patriotic attire and=
the
eager look on her pretty face, and slowly shook his head.
"I'm sorry, =
Miss
Burrows, but I can't afford it," he said evasively.
"Oh, Mr. McG=
ill!
I'm sure you are mistaken," she replied. "You can afford insuranc=
e,
you know, to protect your stock, and this money for Uncle Sam is an insuran=
ce
that your home and business will be protected from the ravages of a ruthless
foe."
He stared at her
thoughtfully a moment. Then he selected a paper from his mail and handed it=
to
her.
"Read that,&=
quot;
he said briefly.
Mary Louise read =
it.
It was a circular, printed in small, open-faced, capital type on plain white
paper, and unsigned. It said:
"The Treasury
Department is asking us to invest billions in what are termed Liberty Bonds=
. It
has the 'liberty' to lend these billions to irresponsible or bankrupt natio=
ns
of Europe, who are fighting an unprofitable war. Some of our dollars will e=
quip
an army of Amer- ican boys to fight on Europe's battle- fields. This may be
good business. Our excited politicians down at Washington may think they are
acting for our best good. But what becomes of the money, finally? Will our
millionaire government contractors become billionaires when the money--our
money--is spent? Do you think the days of graft are past and gone? Have
politicians become honest now that they are handling untold sums? Let us
consider these questions when we are asked to subscribe for Liberty Bonds.&=
quot;
"Why, this is
treason!" cried Mary Louise, gasping from sheer amazement and indignat=
ion.
"It's a--a--treacherous, vile, disloyal insinuation. Some German spy w=
rote
that, and he ought to be hanged for it!"
The druggist nodd=
ed.
He picked up the envelope that had contained the circular and scrutinized it
closely.
"Really, it
looks like foreign handwriting; doesn't it?" he agreed, handing her the
envelope. "It is postmarked 'Dorfield' and was posted last evening. The
whole town is buzzing about the wonderful work of the Liberty Girls yesterd=
ay.
Perhaps your success is responsible for this-- this--opposition."
Mary Louise's che=
eks
were burning. Her eyes flashed.
"May I keep this--thing?" she asked, with a shudder of disgust as she thrust the circular into its envelope. <= o:p>
"Certainly, =
if
you wish."
"And will you
let an enemy attack like that influence you, Mr. McGill?"
He smiled, rather
grimly.
"Yes. I'll
invest five hundred in the bonds. I had already decided to put in a hundred
dollars, but for a moment this veiled accusation bewildered me. You're righ=
t;
it's treasonable. It will be hard for me to raise five hundred, just now, b=
ut
I'll do it. I want that to be my answer to the German."
Mary Louise thank=
ed
him and hurried away. Next door was Lacey's Shoe Store, and Mr. Lacey was
reading a duplicate of that identical circular when the Liberty Girl approa=
ched
him.
The man bowed low=
to
Mary Louise, a deference she felt rendered to her red-white-and-blue unifor=
m.
"Good
morning!" he said pleasantly, recognizing the girl as one of his good
customers. "Glad to see you, Mary Louise, for if I give you a good fat
check it may take a nasty taste out of my mouth, acquired by reading a bit =
of
German propaganda."
"I know, Mr.
Lacey," she replied earnestly. "I've seen that circular before. Do
you mind my having it--and the envelope?"
"I wouldn't =
touch
the filth, if I were you," he protested.
"I'm going to
run the traitor down," she said. "No man has the right to live in
Dorfield--or in America--who could be guilty of such disloyalty."
He gave her the
circular and his check for Liberty Bonds, and she passed on to the next sto=
re.
During the morning Mary Louise discovered several more of the traitorous
circulars. Some merchants would not admit having received the warning; othe=
rs,
through their arguments, convinced the girl they had not only read the scre=
ed
but had been influenced by it. Perhaps it did not seriously affect her sale=
s of
bonds, but she felt that it did and her indignation grew steadily. By noon =
she
was tingling with resentment and when she joined the other Liberty Girls at
luncheon, she found them all excited over the circular and demanding vengea=
nce
on the offender--whoever he might happen to be.
"Isn't it
dreadful!" exclaimed Lucile Neal, "and what could the person hope=
to
gain by it?"
"Why, he wan=
ted
to kill the Liberty Bond sale," explained Alora Jones.
"A suspicion
that this money is to be misapplied, or that officials will steal part of i=
t,
is likely to prevent a lot of foolish people from investing in the bonds. A=
ll
this morning I could see that men were influenced by this circular, which h=
as
been pretty generally distributed."&n=
bsp;
"Yes; one or=
two
repeated the very words of the circular to me," said Laura Hilton;
"but I just asked them if they considered the United States able to pay
its bonds and they were forced to admit it was a safe investment, however t=
he
money might be used."
"I'd like to
know who sent that circular," exclaimed Edna Barlow.
"I'm going to
find out!" asserted Mary Louise.
"How, my
dear?"
"There must =
be
ways of tracing such a bunch of circulars as were mailed last evening. I'm
going to see the Chief of Police and put him on the trail."
"Do you
know," said Edna, a thoughtful and rather quiet girl, "I already =
have
a suspicion who the traitor is."
"Who?" =
an
eager chorus.
"I'm not sur=
e I
ought to speak his name, for it's only a suspicion and I may be wrong. It w=
ould
be an awful thing to accuse one unjustly of such a dastardly act, wouldn't =
it?
But--think, girls!--who is known to be against the war, and pro-German? Who=
did
we consider an enemy to the cause of liberty until--until he happened to buy
some bonds the other night and indulge in some peanut patriotism to disarm a
criticism he knew was becoming dangerous?"
They looked at one
another, half frightened at the suggestion, for all knew whom she meant.
"Perhaps,&qu=
ot;
said Alora, slowly, "Jake Kasker really believes in the bonds. He
certainly set the example to others and led them to buy a lot of bonds. It
doesn't seem reasonable, after that, to credit him with trying to prevent t=
heir
sale."
"Those pro-G=
ermans,"
remarked little Jane Donovan, "are clever and sly. They work in the da=
rk.
Kasker said he hated the war but loved the flag."
"I'm afraid =
of
those people who think devotion to our flag can cover disloyalty to our
President," said Mary Louise earnestly.
"But the flag
represents the President, and Kasker said he'd stand by the flag to the
last."
"All buncomb=
e,
my dear," said Edna decidedly. "That flag talk didn't take the cu=
rse
off the statement that the war is all wrong."
"He had to s=
ay
something patriotic, or he'd have been mobbed," was Lucile's serious
comment. "I hadn't thought of Jake Kasker, before, but he may be the
culprit."
"Isn't he the
only German in town who has denounced our going into the European war?"
demanded Edna.
"No," s=
aid
Mary Louise; "Gran'pa has told me of several others; but none has spok=
en
so frankly as Kasker. Anyhow, there's no harm in suspecting him, for if he =
is
really innocent he can blame his own disloyal speeches for the suspicion. B=
ut
now let us check up the morning's work and get busy again as soon as possib=
le.
We mustn't lose a single minute."&nbs=
p;
"And, as we =
go
around," suggested Alora, "let us keep our eyes and ears open for
traces of the traitor. There may be more than one pro-German in the conspir=
acy,
for the circular was printed by somebody, and there are several kinds of
handwriting on the addressed envelopes we have gathered. We've no time to do
detective work, just now, but we can watch out, just the same."
Mary Louise did n=
ot
mention the circular to Colonel Hathaway that evening, for he was still ill=
and
she did not wish to annoy him.
The next day she
found another circular had been put in the mails, printed from the same que=
er
open-faced type as the first. Not so many had been sent out of these, but t=
hey
were even more malicious in their suggestions. The girls were able to colle=
ct
several of them for evidence and were 'more angry and resentful than ever, =
but
they did not allow such outrageous antagonism to discourage them in their w=
ork.
Of course the Lib=
erty
Girls were not the only ones in Dorfield trying to sell bonds. Mr. Jaswell =
and
other bankers promoted the bond sale vigorously and the regular Committee d=
id
not flag in its endeavors to secure subscriptions. On account of Colonel
Hathaway's illness, Professor Dyer was selected to fill his place on the
Committee and proved himself exceedingly industrious. The only trouble with=
the
Professor was his reluctance to argue. He seemed to work early and late,
visiting the wealthier and more prosperous citizens, but he accepted too ea=
sily
their refusals to buy. On several occasions the Liberty Girls succeeded in
making important sales where Professor Dyer had signally failed. He seemed
astonished at this and told Mary Louise, with a deprecating shrug, that he
feared his talents did not lie in the direction of salesmanship.
Despite the natur=
al
proportion of failures--for not all will buy bonds in any community--on the
fourth day following the mass-meeting Dorfield's quota of one million was f=
ully
subscribed, and on Saturday another hundred and fifty thousand was added,
creating jubilation among the loyal citizens and reflecting great credit on=
the
Liberty Girls, the Committee, and all who had labored so well for the cause=
.
"Really,&quo=
t;
said Professor Dyer, his voice sounding regretful when he congratulated the
girls, "our success is due principally to your patriotic organization.=
The
figures show that you secured subscriptions for over half a million. Dear m=
e,
what a remarkable fact!"
"More than
that," added Jason Jones, Alora's father, who was a wealthy artist and
himself a member of the Committee, "our girls encouraged the faltering
ones to do their duty. Many a man who coldly turned our Committee down smil=
ed
at the pretty faces and dainty costumes of our Liberty Girls and wrote their
checks without a murmur."
"All the cre=
dit
is due Mary Louise," declared Alora. "It was she who proposed the
idea, and who organized us and trained us and designed our Liberty costumes.
Also, Mary Louise made the most sales."
"Nonsense!&q=
uot;
cried Mary Louise, blushing red. "I couldn't have done anything at all
without the help of you girls. No one of us is entitled to more credit than=
the
others, but all six of us may well feel proud of our success. We've done our
bit to help Uncle Sam win the war."&n=
bsp;
On Sunday
"Gran'pa Jim," relieved of all worry, felt "quite himself ag=
ain,"
as he expressed it, and the old gentleman strutted somewhat proudly as he
marched to church with his lovely granddaughter beside him, although her
uniform was to-day discarded for a neat tailor-suit. Mary Louise had always
been a favorite in Dorfield, but the past week had made her a heroine in the
eyes of all patriotic citizens. Many were the looks of admiration and appro=
val
cast at the young girl this morning as she passed along the streets beside =
the
old colonel.
In the afternoon,=
as
they sat in the cosy study at home, the girl for the first time showed her
grandfather the disloyal circulars, relating how indignant the Liberty Girls
had been at encountering such dastardly opposition.
Colonel Hathaway
studied the circulars carefully. He compared the handwritings on the differ=
ent
envelopes, and when Mary Louise said positively: "That man must be
discovered and arrested!" her grandfather nodded his head and replied:=
"He is a
dangerous man. Not especially on account of these mischievous utterances, w=
hich
are too foolish to be considered seriously, but because such a person is su=
re
to attempt other venomous deeds which might prove more important. German
propaganda must be dealt with sternly and all opposition to the administrat=
ion
thoroughly crushed. It will never do to allow a man like this to go unrebuk=
ed
and unpunished."
"What, then,
would you suggest?" asked the girl.&n=
bsp;
"The police
should be notified. Chief Farnum is a clever officer and intensely patrioti=
c,
from all I have heard. I think he will have no difficulty in discovering wh=
o is
responsible for these circulars."&nbs=
p;
"I shall go =
to
him to-morrow," decided Mary Louise. "I had the same idea, Gran'pa
Jim; it's a matter for the police to handle."
But when she had
obtained an interview with Chief of Police Farnum the next morning and had
silently laid one of the circulars on his desk before him, an announcement =
of
her errand, Farnum merely glanced at it, smiled and then flashed a shrewd l=
ook
into the girl's face.
"Well!"
said the Chief, in an interrogative tone.&=
nbsp;
"Those
treasonable circulars have been mailed to a lot of our citizens," said
she.
"I know.&quo=
t;
"They are pro-German, of course. The traitor who is responsible for them ought to be arrested immediately." <= o:p>
"To be
sure," replied Farnum, calmly.
"Well, then =
do
it!" she exclaimed, annoyed by his bland smile.
"I'd like to,
Miss Burrows," he rejoined, the smile changing to a sudden frown,
"and only two things prevent my obeying your request. One is that the
writer is unknown to me."
"I suppose y=
ou
could find him, sir. That's what the police are for. Criminals don't usually
come here and give themselves up, I imagine, or even send you their address.
But the city isn't so big that any man, however clever, could escape your
dragnet."
"Thank you f=
or
the compliment," said the Chief, again smiling. "I believe we cou=
ld
locate the fellow, were such a task not obviated by the second objection.&q=
uot;
"And that?&q=
uot;
"If you'll r=
ead
this circular--there are two others, by the way, mailed at different times-=
-you
will discover that our objectionable friend has skillfully evaded breaking =
our
present laws. He doesn't assert anything treasonable at all; he merely
questions, or suggests."
"He is dislo=
yal,
however," insisted Mary Louise.
"In reality,
yes; legally, no. We allow a certain amount of free speech in this country,
altogether too much under present conditions. The writer of this circular m=
akes
certain statements that are true and would be harmless in themselves were t=
hey
not followed by a series of questions which insinuate that our trusted
officials are manipulating our funds for selfish purposes. A simple denial =
of
these insinuations draws the fangs from every question. We know very well t=
he
intent was to rouse suspicion and resentment against the government, but if=
we
had the author of these circulars in court we could not prove that he had i=
nfringed
any of the existing statutes."
"And you will
allow such a traitor as that to escape!" cried Mary Louise, amazed and
shocked.
For a moment he d=
id
not reply, but regarded the girl thoughtfully. Then he said:
"The police =
of a
city, Miss Burrows, is a local organization with limited powers. I don't mi=
nd
telling you, however, that there are now in Dorfield certain government age=
nts
who are tracing this circular and will not be so particular as we must be to
abide by established law in making arrests. Their authority is more elastic=
, in
other words. Moreover, these circulars were mailed, and the postoffice
department has special detectives to attend to those who use the mails for =
disloyal
purposes."
"Are any of
these agents or detectives working on this case?" asked the girl, more
hopefully.
"Let us supp=
ose
so," he answered. "They do not confide their activities to the
police, although if they call upon us, we must assist them. I personally saw
that copies of these circulars were placed in the hands of a government age=
nt,
but have heard nothing more of the affair."
"And you fear
they will let the matter drop?" she questioned, trying to catch the dr=
ift
of his cautiously expressed words. <=
/span>
He did not answer
that question at all. Instead, he quietly arranged some papers on his desk =
and
after a pause that grew embarrassing, again turned to Mary Louise.
"Whoever iss=
ued
these circulars," he remarked, "is doubtless clever. He is also
bitterly opposed to the administration, and we may logically suppose he will
not stop in his attempts to block the government's conduct of the war. At e=
very
opportunity he will seek to poison the minds of our people and, sooner or
later, he will do something that is decidedly actionable. Then we will arre=
st
him and put an end to his career."&nb=
sp;
"You think t=
hat,
sir?"
"I'm pretty =
sure
of it, from long experience with criminals."
"I suppose t=
he
Kaiser is paying him," said the girl, bitterly.
"We've no
grounds for that belief."
"He is helpi=
ng
the Kaiser; he is pro-German!"
"He is helpi=
ng
the Kaiser, but is not necessarily pro-German. We know he is against the
government, but on the other hand he may detest the Germans. That his
propaganda directly aids our enemies there is no doubt, yet his enmity may =
have
been aroused by personal prejudice or intense opposition to the administrat=
ion
or to other similar cause. Such a person is an out-and-out traitor when his
sentiments lead to actions which obstruct his country's interests. The trai=
tors
are not all pro-German. Let us say they are anti-American."
Mary Louise was
sorely disappointed.
"I think I k=
now
who this traitor is, in spite of what you say," she remarked, "an=
d I
think you ought to watch him, Mr. Farnum, and try to prevent his doing more
harm."
The Chief studied=
her
face. He seemed to have a theory that one may glean as much from facial
expression as from words.
"One ought t=
o be
absolutely certain," said he, "before accusing anyone of disloyal=
ty.
A false accusation is unwarranted. It is a crime, in fact. You have no idea,
Miss Burrows, how many people come to us to slyly accuse a neighbor, whom t=
hey
hate, of disloyalty. In not a single instance have they furnished proof, an=
d we
do not encourage mere telltales. I don't want you to tell me whom you suspe=
ct,
but when you can lay before me a positive accusation, backed by facts that =
can
be proven, I'll take up the case and see that the lawbreaker is vigorously =
prosecuted."
The girl went away
greatly annoyed by the Chief's reluctance to act in the matter, but when she
had related the interview to Gran'pa, the old colonel said:
"I like Farn=
um's
attitude, which I believe to be as just as it is conservative. Suspicion, b=
ased
on personal dislike, should not be tolerated. Why, Mary Louise, anyone might
accuse you, or me, of disloyalty and cause us untold misery and humiliation=
in
defending ourselves and proving our innocence--and even then the stigma on =
our good
name would be difficult to remove entirely. Thousands of people have lost t=
heir
lives in the countries of Europe through false accusations. But America is =
an
enlightened nation, and let us hope no personal animosities will influence =
us
or no passionate adherence to our country's cause deprive us of our sense of
justice."
"Our sense of
justice," asserted Mary Louise, "should lead us to unmask traitor=
s,
and I know very well that somewhere in Dorfield lurks an enemy to my
country."
"We will adm=
it
that, my dear. But your country is watching out for those 'enemies within,'=
who
are more to be feared than those without; and, if I were you, Mary Louise, =
I'd
allow the proper officials to unmask the traitor, as they are sure to do in
time. This war has placed other opportunities in your path to prove your
usefulness to your country, as you have already demonstrated. Is it not
so?"
Mary Louise sighe=
d.
"You are alw=
ays
right, Gran'pa Jim," she said, kissing him fondly. "Drat that
traitor, though! How I hate a snake in the grass."
The activities of=
the
Liberty Girls of Dorfield did not cease with their successful Liberty Bond
"drive." Indeed, this success and the approbation of their fellow
townspeople spurred the young girls on to further patriotic endeavor, in wh=
ich
they felt sure of enthusiastic encouragement.
"As long as
Uncle Sam needs his soldiers," said Peter Conant, the lawyer, "he=
'll
need his Liberty Girls, for they can help win the war."
When Mary Louise
first conceived the idea of banding her closest companions to support the
government in all possible ways, she was a bit doubtful if their efforts wo=
uld
prove of substantial value, although she realized that all her friends were
earnestly determined to "do their bit," whatever the bit might ch=
ance
to be. The local Red Cross chapter had already usurped many fields of femin=
ine
usefulness and with a thorough organization, which included many of the old=
er women,
was accomplishing a 'vast deal of good. Of course the Liberty Girls could n=
ot
hope to rival the Red Cross. =
Mary Louise was o=
nly
seventeen and the ages of the other Liberty Girls ranged from fourteen to
eighteen, so they had been somewhat ignored by those who were older and more
competent, through experience, to undertake important measures of war relie=
f.
The sensational bond sale, however, had made the youngsters heroines--for t=
he
moment, at least-- and greatly stimulated their confidence in themselves and
their ambition to accomplish more. <=
/span>
Mary Louise Burro=
ws
was an orphan; her only relative, indeed, was Colonel James Hathaway, her
mother's father, whose love for his granddaughter was thoroughly returned by
the young girl. They were good comrades, these two, and held many interests=
in
common despite the discrepancy in their ages. The old colonel was
"well-to-do," and although he could scarcely be called wealthy in
these days of huge fortunes, his resources were ample beyond their needs. T=
he
Hathaway home was one of the most attractive in Dorfield, and Mary Louise a=
nd her
grandfather were popular and highly respected. Their servants consisted of =
an
aged pair of negroes named "Aunt Sally" and "Uncle Eben,&quo=
t;
who considered themselves family possessions and were devoted to "de o=
le
mar'se an' young missy."
Alora Jones, who
lived in the handsomest and most imposing house in the little city, was an
heiress and considered the richest girl in Dorfield, having been left sever=
al
millions by her mother. Her father, Jason Jones, although he handled Alora's
fortune and surrounded his motherless daughter with every luxury, was by
profession an artist--a kindly man who encouraged the girl to be generous a=
nd
charitable to a degree. They did not advertise their good deeds and only the
poor knew how much they owed to the practical sympathy of Alora Jones and h=
er father.
Alora, however, was rather reserved and inclined to make few friends, her w=
orst
fault being a suspicion of all strangers, due to some unfortunate experienc=
es
she had formerly encountered. The little band of Liberty Girls included all=
of
Alora's accepted chums, for they were the chums of Mary Louise, whom Alora
adored. Their companionship had done much to soften the girl's distrustful
nature.
The other Liberty
Girls were Laura Hilton, petite and pretty and bubbling with energy, whose
father was a prominent real estate broker; Lucile Neal, whose father and th=
ree
brothers owned and operated the Neal Automobile Factory, and whose intellig=
ent
zeal and knowledge of war conditions had been of great service to Mary Loui=
se;
Edna Barlow, a widowed dressmaker's only child, whose sweet disposition had
made her a favorite with her girl friends, and Jane Donovan, the daughter of
the Mayor of Dorfield and the youngest of the group here described.
These were the six
girls who had entered the bond campaign and assisted to complete Dorfield's
quota of subscriptions, but there was one other Liberty Girl who had been
unable to join them in this active work. This was Irene Macfarlane, the nie=
ce
of Peter Conant. She had been a cripple since childhood and was confined to=
the
limits of a wheeled chair. Far from being gloomy or depressed, however, Ire=
ne
had the sunniest nature imaginable, and was always more bright and cheerful
than the average girl of her age. "From my knees down," she would=
say
confidentially, "I'm no good; but from my knees up I'm as good as
anybody." She was an excellent musician and sang very sweetly; she was
especially deft with her needle; she managed her chair so admirably that li=
ttle
assistance was ever required. Mrs. Conant called her "the light of the
house," and to hear her merry laughter and sparkling conversation, you
would speedily be tempted to forget that fate had been unkind to her and de=
creed
that for life she must be wedded to a wheeled chair.
If Irene resented
this decree, she never allowed anyone to suspect it, and her glad dispositi=
on
warded off the words of sympathy that might have pained her.
While unable to s=
ally
forth in the Liberty Bond drive, Irene was none the less an important membe=
r of
the band of Liberty Girls. "She's our inspiration," said Mary Lou=
ise
with simple conviction. Teeming with patriotism and never doubting her abil=
ity
to do something helpful in defeating her country's foes, Irene had many
valuable suggestions to make to her companions and one of these she broache=
d a
few days after the bond sale ended so triumphantly. On this occasion the
Liberty Girls had met with Irene at Peter Conant's cosy home, next door to =
the residence
of Colonel Hathaway, for consultation as to their future endeavors.
"Everyone is
knitting for the soldiers and sailors," said Irene, "and while th=
at
is a noble work, I believe that we ought to do something different from the
others. Such an important organization ought to render unusual and individu=
al
service on behalf of our beloved country. Is it not so?"
"It's all ve=
ry
well, Irene, to back our beloved country," remarked Laura, "but t=
he
whole nation is doing that and I really hanker to help our soldier boys.&qu=
ot;
"So do I,&qu=
ot;
spoke up Lucile. "The government is equal to the country's needs, I'm
sure, but the government has never taken any too good care of its soldiers =
and
they'll lack a lot of things besides knitted goods when they get to the
front."
"Exactly,&qu=
ot;
agreed Mary Louise. "Seems to me it's the girls' chief duty to look af=
ter
the boys, and a lot of the drafted ones are marching away from Dorfield each
day, looking pretty glum, even if loyally submitting to the inevitable. I t=
ell
you, girls, these young and green soldiers need encouraging, so they'll bec=
ome
enthusiastic and make the best sort of fighters, and we ought to bend our
efforts to cheering them up." <=
/span>
Irene laughed mer=
rily.
"Good!"=
she
cried; "you're like a flock of sheep: all you need is a hint to trail =
away
in the very direction I wanted to lead you. There are a lot of things we ca=
n do
to add to our soldiers' comfort. They need chocolate--sweets are good for
them--and 'comfort-kits' of the real sort, not those useless, dowdy ones so
many well-intentioned women are wasting time and money to send them; and
they'll be grateful for lots and lots of cigarettes, and--"
"Oh, Irene! =
Do
you think that would be right?" from Edna Barlow.
"Of course it
would. The government approves cigarettes and the French girls are supplying
our boys across the pond with them even now. Surely we can do as much for o=
ur
own brave laddies who are still learning the art of war. Not all smoke, of
course, and some prefer pipes and tobacco, which we can also send them. Ano=
ther
thing, nearly every soldier needs a good pocket knife, and a razor, and they
need games of all sorts, such as dominoes and checkers and cribbage-boards;=
and
good honest trench mirrors, and--"&nb=
sp;
"Goodness me,
Irene," interrupted Jane Donovan, "how do you think we could supp=
ly
all those things? To equip a regiment with the articles you mention would c=
ost
a mint of money, and where's the money coming from, and how are we to get i=
t?"
"There you go
again, helping me out!" smiled Irene. "In your question, my dear,
lies the crux of my suggestion. We Liberty Girls must raise the money."=
;
"How,
Irene?"
"I object to
begging."
"The people =
are
tired of subscribing to all sorts of schemes."
"We certainly
are not female Croesuses!"
"Perhaps you
expect us to turn bandits and sandbag the good citizens on dark nights.&quo=
t;
Irene's smile did=
not
fade; she simply glowed with glee at these characteristic protestations.
"I can't bla=
me
you, girls, for you haven't thought the thing out, and I have," she
stated. "My scheme isn't entirely original, for I read the other day o=
f a
similar plan being tried in another city, with good success. A plan similar=
, in
some ways, but quite different in others. Yet it gave me the idea."
"Shoot us the
idea, then," said Jane, who was inclined to favor slang.
"In order to
raise money," said Irene, slowly and more seriously than she had before
spoken, "it is necessary for us to go into business. The other day, wh=
en I
was riding with Alora, I noticed that the store between the post-office and=
the
Citizens' Bank is vacant, and a sign in the window said 'Apply to Peter Con=
ant,
Agent.' Peter Conant being my uncle, I applied to him that evening after
dinner, on behalf of the Liberty Girls. It's one of the best locations in t=
own
and right in the heart of the business district. The store has commanded a =
big
rental, but in these times it is not in demand and it has been vacant for t=
he last
six months, with no prospect of its being rented. Girls, Peter Conant will
allow us to use this store room without charge until someone is willing to =
pay
the proper rent for it, and so the first big problem is solved. Three cheers
for Uncle Peter!"
They stared at her
rather suspiciously, not yet understanding her idea.
"So far, so
good, my dear," said Mary Louise. "We can trust dear old Peter Co=
nant
to be generous and patriotic. But what good is a store without stock, and h=
ow
are we going to get a stock to sell--and sell it at a profit that will allo=
w us
to do all the things we long to do for the soldiers?"
"Explain tha=
t,
and I'm with you," announced Alora.&n=
bsp;
"Explain tha=
t,
and we're all with you!" declared Lucile Neal.
"All I need =
is
the opportunity," protested Irene. "You're such chatterboxes that=
you
won't let me talk! Now--listen. I'm not much of an executioner, girls, but I
can plan and you can execute, and in that way I get my finger in the pie. N=
ow,
I believe I've a practical idea that will work out beautifully. Dorfield is=
an
ancient city and has been inhabited for generations. Almost every house
contains a lot of articles that are not in use--are put aside and forgotten=
--or
are not in any way necessary to the comfort and happiness of the owners, ye=
t would
be highly prized by some other family which does not possess such articles.=
For
instance, a baby-carriage or crib, stored away in some attic, could be sold=
at
a bargain to some young woman needing such an article; or some old brass
candlesticks, considered valueless by their owner, would be eagerly bought =
by
someone who did not possess such things and had a love for antiques.
"My proposit=
ion
is simply this: that you visit all the substantial homes in Dorfield and as=
k to
be given whatever the folks care to dispense with, such items to be sold at
'The Liberty Girls' Shop' and the money applied to our War Fund to help the
soldier boys. Lucile's brother, Joe Neal, will furnish us a truck to cart a=
ll
the things from the houses to our store, and I'm sure we can get a whole lo=
t of
goods that will sell readily. The people will be glad to give all that they=
don't
want to so good a cause, and what one doesn't want, another is sure to want.
Whatever money we take in will be all to the good, and with it we can supply
the boys with many genuine comforts. Now, then, how does my idea strike
you?"
Approval--even the
dawn of enthusiasm--was written on every countenance. They canvassed all the
pros and cons of the proposition at length, and the more they considered it=
the
more practical it seemed.
"The only
doubtful thing," said Mary Louise, finally, "is whether the people
will donate the goods they don't need or care for, but that can be easily
determined by asking them. We ought to pair off, and each couple take a
residence street and make a careful canvass, taking time to explain our pla=
n.
One day will show us whether we're to be successful or not, and the whole i=
dea
hinges on the success of our appeal."=
"Not
entirely," objected Alora. "We may secure the goods, but be unabl=
e to
sell them."
"Nonsense,&q=
uot;
said little Laura Hilton; "nothing in the world sells so readily as
second-hand truck. Just think how the people flock to auctions and the like.
And we girls should prove good 'salesladies,' too, for we can do a lot of
coaxing and get better prices than an auctioneer. All we need do is appeal =
to
the patriotism of the prospective buyers."
"Anyhow,&quo=
t;
asserted Edna, "it seems worth a trial, and we must admit the idea is
attractive and unique--at least a novelty in Dorfield."
So they planned t=
heir
method of canvassing and agreed to put in the next day soliciting articles =
to
sell at the Liberty Girls' Shop.
Mary Louise said =
to
her grandfather that night, after explaining Irene's novel scheme to raise =
money:
"We haven't been housekeeping many years in Dorfield and I'm not sure I
can find among our household possessions anything to give the Liberty Shop.=
But
I've some jewelry and knickknacks that I never wear and, if you don't mind,
Gran'pa Jim, I'll donate that to our shop."
The Colonel was
really enthusiastic over the plan and not only approved his granddaughter's
proposition to give her surplus jewelry but went over the house with her and
selected quite an imposing lot of odds and ends which were not in use and c=
ould
readily be spared. Eager to assist the girls, the old colonel next morning =
went
to town and ordered a big sign painted, to be placed over the store entranc=
e,
and he also induced the editors of the two newspapers to give the Liberty
Girls' latest venture publicity in their columns, inviting the cooperation =
of
the public.
Peter Conant turn=
ed
over the keys of the big store to the girls and the first load of goods to =
be
delivered was that from the Hathaway residence.
The Liberty Girls
were astonished at the success of their solicitations. From almost every ho=
use
they visited they secured donations of more or less value. It may have seem=
ed
"rubbish" to some of the donors, but the variety of goods that so=
on
accumulated in the store room presented an interesting collection and the g=
irls
arranged their wares enticingly and polished up the brass and copper orname=
nts and
utensils until they seemed of considerable value.
They did not open
their doors to the public for ten days, and Joe Neal began to grumble becau=
se
one of his trucks was kept constantly running from house to house, gatherin=
g up
the articles contributed to the Liberty Girls' Shop. But the girls induced
other trucks to help Joe and the enthusiasm kept growing. Curiosity was spu=
rred
by the big sign over the closed doors, and every woman who donated was anxi=
ous
to know what others had given to the shop. It was evident there would be a
crowd at the formal "opening," for much was expected from the uni=
que
enterprise.
Meantime, the gir=
ls
were busily occupied. Each day one group solicited donations while another
stayed at the store to arrange the goods. Many articles of furniture, more =
or
less decrepit, were received, and a man was hired to varnish and patch and =
put
the chairs, stands, tables, desks and whatnots into the best condition
possible. Alora Jones thought the stock needed "brightening," so =
she
induced her father to make purchases of several new articles, which she
presented the girls as her share of the donations. And Peter Conant, finding
many small pieces of jewelry, silverware and bric-a-brac among the
accumulation, rented a big showcase for the girls, in which such wares were
properly displayed.
During these ten =
days
of unflagging zeal the Liberty Girls were annoyed to discover that another
traitorous circular had been issued. A large contingent of the selective dr=
aft
boys had just been ordered away to the cantonment and the day before they l=
eft
all their parents received a circular saying that the draft was
unconstitutional and that their sons were being sacrificed by autocratic
methods to further the political schemes of the administration. "Mr.
Wilson," it ended, "is trying to make for himself a place in hist=
ory,
at the expense of the flesh and blood of his countrymen."
This vile and
despicable screed was printed from the same queer type as the former circul=
ars
denouncing the Liberty Bond sale and evidently emanated from the same sourc=
e.
Mary Louise was the first to secure one of the papers and its envelope, mai=
led
through the local post-office, and her indignation was only equalled by her
desire to punish the offender. She realized, however, her limitations, and =
that
she had neither the time nor the talent to unmask the traitor. She could on=
ly hope
that the proper authorities would investigate the matter.
That afternoon, w=
ith
the circular still in her handbag, she visited the clothing store of Jacob
Kasker and asked the proprietor if he had any goods he would contribute to =
the
Liberty Girls' Shop.
Kasker was a stol=
id,
florid-faced man, born in America of naturalized German parents, and theref=
ore
his citizenship could not be assailed. He had been quite successful as a
merchant and was reputed to be the wealthiest clothing dealer in Dorfield.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"No," s=
aid
Kasker, shortly, in answer to the request. Mary Louise was annoyed by the t=
one.
"You mean th=
at
you won't help us, I suppose?" she said impatiently.
He turned from his
desk and regarded her with a slight frown. Usually his expression was stupi=
dly
genial.
"Why should I
give something for nothing?" he asked. "It isn't my war; I didn't
make it, and I don't like it. Say, I got a boy--one son. Do you know they've
drafted him--took him from his work without his consent, or mine, and march=
ed
him off to a war that there's no good excuse for?"
"Well,"
returned Mary Louise, "your boy is one of those we're trying to help.&=
quot;
"You won't h=
elp
make him a free American again; you'll just help give him knickknacks so he
won't rebel against his slavery."&nbs=
p;
The girl's eyes
flashed.
"Mr. Kasker,=
"
she said sternly, "I consider that speech disloyal and traitorous. Men=
are
being jailed every day for less!"&nbs=
p;
He shrugged his
shoulders.
"I believe t=
hat
is true, and it proves what a free country this is--does it not? Mr. Wilson=
's
democracy is the kind that won't allow people to express their opinions, un=
less
they agree with him. If I say I will stand by the American constitution, th=
ey
will put me in jail."
Mary Louise fairly
gasped. She devoutly wished she had never approached this dreadful man. She
felt ashamed to breathe the same air with him. But she hated to retreat wit=
hout
a definite display of her disgust at his perfidious utterances. Drawing the
circular from her bag she spread it before him on his desk and said:
"Read
that!"
He just glanced at
it, proving he knew well its wording. Mary Louise was watching him closely.=
"Well, what
about it?" he asked brusquely.
"It expresses
your sentiments, I believe." =
span>
He turned upon her
suspiciously.
"You think I
wrote it?" he demanded. =
"My thoughts=
are
my own," retorted Mary Louise.
Kasker's frown
deepened.
"Your though=
ts
may get you into trouble, my girl," he said slowly. "Let me tell =
you
this: However much I hate this war, I'm not fighting it publicly. To you I =
have
spoken in private--just a private conversation. The trouble with me is, I t=
alk
too much; I don't know enough to keep my mouth shut. I guess I'll never lea=
rn
that. I ain't a hypocrite, and I ain't a pacifist. I say the United States =
must
win this war because it has started the job, and right or wrong, must finish
it. I guess we could beat the whole world, if we had to. But I ain't fool
enough to say that all they do down at Washington is right, 'cause I know i=
t ain't.
But I'm standing by the flag. My boy is standing by the flag, and he'll fig=
ht
as well as any in the whole army to keep the flag flying over this great
republic. By and by we'll get better congressmen; the ones we got now are
accidents. But in spite of all accidents--and they're mostly our own fault-=
-I'm
for America first, last and all the time. That's Jake Kasker. I don't like =
the
Germans and I don't like the English, for Jake Kasker is a George Washingto=
n American.
What are you doing, girl?" he suddenly asked with a change of tone.
"I'm putting
down that speech in shorthand in my notebook," said Mary Louise, "=
;and
I think I've got every word of it." She slipped the book in her bag and
picked up the circular. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kasker!"
The German seemed
bewildered; he ran his fingers through his bushy hair as if trying to remem=
ber
what he had said.
"Wait!"=
he
cried, as she turned away. "I've changed my mind about those goods; I'=
ll
send some over to your shop to be sold."
"Don't do
it," she replied, "for we won't accept them. Only those whose pat=
riotism
rings true are allowed to help us."&n=
bsp;
Then she marched =
out
of the big store, the proprietor at the desk staring at her fixedly until s=
he
had disappeared.
"That's it,
Jake," he said to himself, turning to his papers; "you talk too m=
uch.
If a man prints a thing, and nobody knows who printed it, he's safe."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"I'm pretty
sure, Gran'pa Jim," said Mary Louise that evening, "that I've tra=
iled
the traitor to his lair, and he's none other than--Jake Kasker!"
This was the first
time she had mentioned her suspicion of Kasker to him, and her statement was
received by the colonel with moderate surprise, followed by a doubtful smil=
e.
"I know
Jake," he remarked, "and while he is uneducated and his mind is u=
nformed
concerning most things outside the clothing business, I should hesitate to
accuse him of downright disloyalty."&=
nbsp;
"He's a Germ=
an,
and sympathizes with the Kaiser," asserted Mary Louise.
"Did he say
that?"
"Well, not i=
n so
many words."
"A
German-American is not usually pro-German," the colonel declared, &quo=
t;for
Germans who come to America come to escape the militarism and paternalism of
the Junkers, which is proof in itself that they disapprove of what we term
kaiserism. I know that Kasker talks foolishly against the war and resents t=
he
drafting of his son, but I think he is a good American at heart. He has bou=
ght
Liberty Bonds more liberally than some who proclaim their patriotism from t=
he
housetops. I don't fear these outspoken objectors, my dear, as much as thos=
e who
work slyly in the dark--such as the writers of those disgraceful circulars.=
"
"I practical=
ly
accused Kasker of sending out those circulars," said Mary Louise,
"and his defense was very lame and unconvincing. Listen, Grand'pa, to =
what
he said. I took the speech down in shorthand, and that worried him, I'm
sure."
The colonel liste= ned and shook his head gravely. <= o:p>
"Yes, Jake
Kasker talks too much," he confessed, "and much that he says is
disloyal to our government and calculated to do much harm, especially if wi=
dely
circulated. This is no time to criticise the men who are working hard to win
the war; we should render them faithful support. The task before us is
difficult and it will require a united country to defeat our enemies. I must
talk to Jake Kasker."
"Won't it be
better to let the authorities deal with him?" suggested the girl.
"They're certain to get him, in time, if he goes on this way. I believ=
e I
frightened him a bit this afternoon, but he's too dull to take warning. Any=
how,
I shall relate the whole interview to Chief Farnum to-morrow morning."=
This she did, but=
the
Chief gave her little satisfaction.
"No one pays=
any
attention to Kasker," he said.
"He's a Germ=
an,
and a traitor!" she insisted. "A woman's intuition is seldom at
fault, and I'm convinced he's responsible for this latest and most dreadful
circular," and she laid it before him.
"A girl's
intuition is not as mature as a woman's intuition," the Chief answered=
in
an impatient tone. "You force me to say, my dear young lady, that you =
are
dabbling in affairs that do not concern you. I've plenty of those circulars=
on
file and I'm attending to my duty and keeping an eye open for the rascal who
wrote them. But there is no proof that Kasker is the man. The federal offic=
ers
are also investigating the case, and I imagine they will not require your a=
ssistance."
Mary Louise flush=
ed
but stood her ground.
"Isn't it the
duty of every patriotic person to denounce a traitor?" she inquired.
"Yes, if the=
re
is proof. I think you are wrong about Kasker, but if you are able to bring =
me
proof, I'll arrest him and turn him over to the federal agents for prosecut=
ion.
But, for heaven's sake, don't bother me with mere suspicions."
Mary Louise did n=
ot
accept this rebuke graciously. She went away with the feeling that Chief Fa=
rnum
was, for some reason, condoning a crime, and she was firmly resolved to obt=
ain
the required proof if it could be secured without subjecting herself to the
annoyance of such rebuffs as the one she had just endured.
"We ought no=
t to
permit such a snake in the grass to exist in dear old Dorfield," she t=
old
her girl associates. "Let us all try to discover absolute proof of
Kasker's treachery."
The other Liberty
Girls were as indignant as Mary Louise, but were too intent on their present
duties to pay much attention to Jake Kasker. For the Liberty Girls' Shop was
now open to the public, and men, women and children crowded in to see what =
the
girls had to offer. Sales were so brisk during the first week that the stock
became depleted and once more they made a house to house canvass to obtain a
new supply of material.
This kept all six=
of
the girls busily occupied. Irene each morning rode down to the shop in the
Hathaway automobile--wheel-chair and all--and acted as cashier, so as to
relieve the others of this duty. She could accomplish this work very nicely=
and
became the Liberty Girls' treasurer and financial adviser. Each day she
deposited in the bank the money received, and the amounts were so liberal t=
hat
enthusiasm was easily maintained. =
span>
"The soldier
boys have reason to rejoice," said Irene complacently, "for we sh=
all
soon be able to provide them with numerous comforts and luxuries--all of wh=
ich
they are surely entitled to." <=
/span>
So the new enterp=
rise
was progressing finely when, one evening, on reaching home from a busy day =
at
the shop, Mary Louise found a letter that greatly pleased her. It was from =
an
old and valued girl friend in Washington and after rambling along pleasantl=
y on
a variety of subjects the writer concluded as follows:
"But we can =
talk
all this over at our leisure, my dear, for I'm going to accept one of your =
many
pressing invitations (the first one, of course) and make you another little
visit. I love Dorfield, and I love you, and the dear Colonel, and Irene and
Alora, and I long to see all of you again. Moreover, Daddy is being sent ab=
road
on a secret mission, and I should be lonely without him. So expect me at any
time. In my usual erratic fashion I may follow on the heels of this letter,=
or
I may lag behind it for a few days, but whenever I turn up at the Hathaway
gate, I'll demand a kiss and a welcome for "JOSIE O'GORMAN."
Now, this girl wa=
s in
many ways so entirely unlike Mary Louise that one might wonder what link of
sympathy drew them together, unless it was "the law of opposites."
However, there was one quality in both their natures that might warrant the
warm friendship existing between the two girls. Mary Louise was sweet and
winning, with a charming, well-bred manner and a ready sympathy for all who
were in trouble. She was attractive in person, particular as to dress, gene=
rous
and considerate to a fault. The girl had been carefully reared and had well
repaid the training of the gallant old colonel, her grandfather, who had su=
rrounded
her with competent instructors. Yet Mary Louise had a passion for mysteries=
and
was never quite so happy as when engaged in studying a baffling personality=
or
striving to explain a seeming enigma. Gran'pa Jim, who was usually her
confidant when she "scented a mystery," often accused her of allo=
wing
her imagination to influence her judgment, but on several occasions the girl
had triumphantly proven her intuitions to be correct. You must not think, f=
rom
this statement, that Mary Louise was prone to suspect everyone she met; it =
was
only on rare occasions she instinctively felt there was more beneath the su=
rface
of an occurrence than appeared to the casual observer, and then, if a wrong
might be righted or a misunderstanding removed--but only in such event--she
eagerly essayed to discover the truth. It was in this manner that she had o=
nce
been of great service to her friend Alora Jones, and to others as well. It =
was
this natural quality, combined with sincere loyalty, which made her long to
discover and bring to justice the author of the pro-German circulars.
Josie O'Gorman was
small and "pudgy"--her own expression--red-haired and freckled-fa=
ced
and snub-nosed. Her eyes redeemed much of this personal handicap, for they =
were
big and blue as turquoises and as merry and innocent in expression as the e=
yes
of a child. Also, the good humor which usually pervaded her sunny features =
led
people to ignore their plainness. In dress, Josie was somewhat eccentric in=
her
selections and careless in methods of wearing her clothes, but this might be
excused by her engrossing interest in people, rather than in apparel.
The girl was the
daughter--the only child, indeed--of John O'Gorman, an old and trusted
lieutenant of the government's secret-service. From Josie's childhood, the
clever detective had trained her in all the subtle art of his craft, and
allowing for her youth, which meant a limited experience of human nature and
the intricacies of crime, Josie O'Gorman was now considered by her father t=
o be
more expert than the average professional detective. While the astute
secret-service agent was more than proud of his daughter's talent, he would=
not
allow her to undertake the investigation of crime as a profession until she=
was
older and more mature. Sometimes, however, he permitted and even encouraged=
her
to "practise" on minor or unimportant cases of a private nature, =
in
which the United States government was not interested.
Josie's talent dr=
ew
Mary Louise to her magnetically. The detective's daughter was likewise a
delightful companion. She was so well versed in all matters of national imp=
ort,
as well as in the foibles and peculiarities of the human race, that even
conservative, old Colonel Hathaway admired the girl and enjoyed her society.
Josie had visited Mary Louise more than once and was assured a warm welcome
whenever she came to Dorfield. Most of the Liberty Girls knew Josie O'Gorma=
n,
and when they heard she was coming they straightway insisted she be made a =
member
of their band.
"She'll just
have to be one of us," said Mary Louise, "for I'm so busy with our
wonderful Shop that I can't entertain Josie properly unless she takes a han=
d in
our game, which I believe she will be glad to do."
And Josie was gla=
d,
and proclaimed herself a Liberty Girl the first hour of her arrival, the mo=
ment
she learned what the patriotic band had already accomplished and was determ=
ined
to accomplish further.
"It's just p=
lay,
you know, and play of the right sort--loyal and helpful to those who deserve
the best we can give them, our brave soldiers and sailors. Count me in, gir=
ls,
and you'll find me at the Liberty Shop early and late, where I promise to s=
ell
anything from an old hoopskirt to a decayed piano at the highest market pri=
ce.
We've had some 'rummage sales' in Washington, you know, but nothing to comp=
are with
this thorough and businesslike undertaking of yours. But I won't wear your
uniform; I can't afford to allow the glorious red-white-and-blue to look do=
wdy,
as it would on my unseemly form."&nbs=
p;
Josie O'Gorman had
been in Dorfield several days before Mary Louise showed her the traitorous
circulars that had been issued by some unknown obstructionist. At first she=
had
been a little ashamed to acknowledge to her friend that a citizen of her own
town could be so disloyal, but the matter had weighed heavily on her mind a=
nd
so she decided to unload it upon Josie's shrewder intelligence.
"I feel, dea=
r,
that the best service you can render us while here--the best you can render=
the
nation, too--will be to try to discover this secret enemy," she said
earnestly. "I'm sure he has done a lot of harm, already, and he may do
much more if he is left undisturbed. Some folks are not too patriotic, even
now, when we are facing the most terrible ordeal in our history, and some a=
re
often so weak as to be influenced by what I am sure is pro-German
propaganda."
Josie studied the
various circulars. She studied the handwriting on the envelopes and the dat=
es
of the postmarks. Her attitude was tense, as that of a pointer dog who sudd=
enly
senses a trail. Finally she asked: <=
/span>
"Do the poli=
ce
know?"
Mary Louise relat=
ed
her two interviews with Chief Farnum.
"How about t=
he
agents of the department of justice?"=
"I don't kno=
w of
any," confessed Mary Louise. =
span>
Josie put the
circulars in her pocket.
"Now, then, =
tell
me whom you suspect, and why," she said.
Until now Mary Lo=
uise
had not mentioned the clothing merchant to Josie, but she related Jake Kask=
er's
frank opposition to the war at the Liberty Bond mass-meeting and her interv=
iew
with him in his store, in which he plainly showed his antagonism to the dra=
ft
and to the administration generally. She read to Josie the shorthand notes =
she
had taken and supplemented all by declaring that such a man could be guilty=
of
any offense.
"You see,&qu=
ot;
she concluded, "all evidence points to Kasker as the traitor; but Chief
Farnum is stubborn and independent, and we must obtain positive proof that
Kasker issued those circulars. Then we can put an end to his mischief-makin=
g. I
don't know how to undertake such a job, Josie, but you do; I'm busy at the
Liberty Shop, and we can spare you from there better than any one else; so,=
if
you want to 'practise,' here's an opportunity to do some splendid work.&quo=
t;
Josie was a good
listener. She did not interrupt Mary Louise, but let her say all she had to=
say
concerning this interesting matter. When her friend paused for lack of word=
s,
Josie remarked:
"Every
American's watchword should be: 'Swat the traitor!' War seems to breed
traitors, somehow. During the Civil War they were called 'copperheads,' as =
the
most venomous term that could be applied to the breed. We haven't yet coine=
d an
equally effective word in this war, but it will come in time. Meanwhile, ev=
ery
person--man or woman--who is not whole-heartedly with President Wilson and
intent on helping win the war, is doing his country a vital injury. That's =
the
flat truth, and I'd like to shake your Jake Kasker out of his suit of
hand-me-down clothing. If he isn't a traitor, he's a fool, and sometimes fo=
ols
are more dangerous than traitors. There! All this has got me riled, and an =
investigator
has no business to get riled. They must be calm and collected." She
slapped her forehead, settled herself in her chair and continued in a more
moderate tone: "Now, tell me what other people in Dorfield have led yo=
u to
suspect they are not in accord with the administration, or resent our entry
into the Great War."
Mary Louise gave =
her
a puzzled look.
"Oughtn't we=
to
finish with Kasker, first?" she asked, hesitatingly, for she respected
Josie's judgment.
The girl detective
laughed.
"I've an
impression we've already finished with him--unless I really give him that
shaking," she replied. "I'll admit that such a person is mischiev=
ous
and ought to be shut up, either by jailing him or putting a plaster over his
mouth, but I can't believe Jake Kasker guilty of those circulars."
"Why not?&qu=
ot;
in an aggrieved tone.
"Well, in sp=
ite
of his disloyal mutterings, his deeds are loyal. He's disgruntled over the =
loss
of his son, and doesn't care who knows it, but he'll stand pat and spank the
kid if he doesn't fight like a tartar. He hates the war--perhaps we all hate
it, in a way--but he'll buy Liberty Bonds and help win a victory. I know th=
at
sort; they're not dangerous; just at war with themselves, with folly and
honesty struggling for the mastery. Let him alone and in a few months you'l=
l find
Kasker making patriotic speeches."&nb=
sp;
"Oh,
Josie!"
"Think of
someone else."
Mary Louise shook=
her
head.
"What, only =
one
string to your bow of distrust? Fie, Mary Louise! When you were selling Lib=
erty
Bonds, did you meet with no objectors?"
"Well--yes;
there's a wholesale grocer here, who is named Silas Herring, a very rich ma=
n,
but sour and disagreeable."
"Did he kick=
on
the bonds?"
"Yes."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"Then tell me
all about him."
"When I first
entered his office, Mr. Herring made insulting remarks about the bonds and
accused our government of being dominated by the English. He was very bitte=
r in
his remarks, but in his office were two other men who remonstrated with him
and--"
"What were t=
he
two men doing there?"
"Why, they w=
ere
talking about something, when I entered; I didn't hear what, for when they =
saw
me they became silent." =
"Were they
clerks, or grocers--customers?"
"No; one was=
our
supervisor, Andrew Duncan--" =
span>
"And the oth=
er
man?" asked Josie.
"Our
superintendent of schools, Professor Dyer."
"Oh; then th=
ey
were talking politics." =
"I suppose
likely. I was obliged to argue with Mr. Herring and became so incensed that=
I
threatened him with the loss of his trade. But Mr. Duncan at once subscribed
for Liberty Bonds, and so did Professor Dyer, and that shamed Silas Herring
into buying a big bunch of them also."
"H-m-m,"
murmured Josie contentedly. "Then neither of the three had purchased a=
ny
bonds until then?"
"I think not.
Gran'pa Jim had himself tried to sell Mr. Herring and had been refused.&quo=
t;
"I see. How =
much
did the supervisor invest in bonds?"&=
nbsp;
"One hundred
dollars."
"Too little.=
And
the Professor?"
"Five
hundred."
"Too much. He
couldn't afford it, could he?"
"He said it =
was
more than his salary warranted, but he wanted to be patriotic."
"Oh, well; t=
he
rich grocer took them off his hands, perhaps. No disloyal words from the
Professor or the supervisor?" <=
/span>
"No, indeed;
they rebuked Mr. Herring and made him stop talking."
Josie nodded,
thoughtfully.
"Well, who e=
lse
did you find disloyal?" =
"No one, so =
far
as I can recollect. Everyone I know seems genuinely patriotic--except,"=
; as
an afterthought, "little Annie Boyle, and she doesn't count."
"Who is litt=
le
Annie Boyle?"
"No one much.
Her father keeps the Mansion House, one of the hotels here, but not one of =
the
best. It's patronized by cheap traveling men and the better class of clerks,
I'm told, and Mr. Boyle is said to do a good business. Annie knows some of =
our
girls, and they say she hates the war and denounces Mr. Wilson and everybody
concerned in the war. But Annie's a silly little thing, anyhow, and of cour=
se
she couldn't get out those circulars."
Josie wrote Annie
Boyle's name on her tablets--little ivory affairs which she always carried =
and
made notes on.
"Do you know
anyone else at the Mansion House?" she inquired.
"Not a
soul."
"How old is
Annie?"
"Fourteen or
fifteen."
"She didn't
conceive her unpatriotic ideas; she has heard someone else talk, and like a
parrot repeats what she has heard."&n=
bsp;
"Perhaps so;
but--"
"All right. =
I'm
not going to the Liberty Girls' Shop to-morrow, Mary Louise. At your invita=
tion
I'll make myself scarce, and nose around. To be quite frank, I consider this
matter serious; more serious than you perhaps suspect. And, since you've put
this case in my hands, I'm sure you and the dear colonel won't mind if I'm a
bit eccentric in my movements while I'm doing detective work. I know the to=
wn
pretty well, from my former visits, so I won't get lost. I may not accompli=
sh anything,
but you'd like me to try, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, indeed.
That's why I've told you all this. I feel something ought to be done, and I
can't do it myself."
Josie slipped the
tablets into her pocket.
"Mary Louise,
the United States is honeycombed with German spies," she gravely
announced. "They're keeping Daddy and all the Department of Justice pr=
etty
busy, so I've an inkling as to their activities. German spies are encourage=
d by
German propagandists, who are not always German but may be Americans, or ev=
en
British by birth, but are none the less deadly on that account. The paid spy
has no nationality; he is true to no one but the devil, and he and his abet=
tors
fatten on treachery. His abettors are those who repeat sneering and slurring
remarks about our conduct of the war. You may set it down that whoever is n=
ot pro-American
is pro-German; whoever does not favor the Allies--all of them, mind you--favors the Kaiser; whoev=
er is
not loyal in this hour of our country's greatest need is a traitor."
"You're righ=
t,
Josie!"
"Now,"
continued Josie, reflectively, "you and I must both understand that we=
're
undertaking a case that is none of our business. It's the business of Mr.
Bielaski, of the department of justice, first of all; then it's the busines=
s of
Mr. Flynn, of the secret service; then it's the business of the local polic=
e.
Together, they have a thousand eyes, but enemy propagandists are more numer=
ous
and scattered throughout the nation. Your chief of police doesn't want to
interfere with the federal agents here, and the federal agents are instruct=
ed
not to pay attention to what is called 'spy hysteria,' and so they're letti=
ng
things slide. But you believe, and I believe, that there's more treachery
underlying these circulars than appears on the surface, and if we can secur=
e evidence
that is important, and present it to the proper officials, we shall be doing
our country a service. So I'll start out on my own responsibility."
"Doesn't your
secret service badge give you authority?" asked Mary Louise.
"No,"
replied Josie; "that badge is merely honorary. Daddy got it for me so =
that
if ever I got into trouble it would help me out, but it doesn't make me a
member of the secret service or give me a bit of authority. But that doesn't
matter; when I get evidence, I know what authority to give it to, and that's
all that is necessary." =
"Anyhow,&quo=
t;
said Mary Louise, with a relieved sigh, "I'm glad you are going to
investigate the author of those awful circulars. It has worried me a good d=
eal
to think that Dorfield is harboring a German spy, and I have confidence tha=
t if
anyone can discover the traitor, you can."
"That's good=
of
you," returned Josie, with a grimace, "but I lack a similar
confidence in myself. Don't you remember how many times I've foozled?"=
"But sometim=
es,
Josie, you've won, and I hope you'll win now."
"Thank
you," said Josie; "I hope so, myself."
Day was just
beginning to break when a terrible detonation shook all Dorfield. Houses
rocked, windows rattled, a sudden wind swept over the town and then a glare
that was not a presage of the coming sun lit the sky.
A brief silence
succeeded the shock, but immediately thereafter whistles shrieked, fire-bel=
ls
clanged, a murmur of agitated voices crying aloud was heard on every side, =
and
the people began pouring from the houses into the streets demanding the cau=
se
of the alarm.
Colonel Hathaway,
still weak and nervous, stood trembling in his bathrobe when Mary Louise ca=
me
to him.
"It's the
airplane factory, Gran'pa Jim," she said. "I can see it from my
windows. Something must have exploded and the buildings are on fire."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
The airplane work=
s of
Dorfield had been one of the city's most unique institutions, but until we
entered the World War it was not deemed of prime importance. The government=
's
vast airplane appropriations, however, had resulted in the Dorfield works
securing contracts for the manufacture of war machines that straightway rai=
sed
the enterprise to an important position. The original plant had been duplic=
ated
a dozen times, until now, on the big field south of the city, the cluster o=
f buildings
required for the construction of aircraft was one of the most imposing
manufacturing plants in that part of the State. Skilled government aviators=
had
been sent to Dorfield to inspect every machine turned out. Although backed =
by
local capital, it was, in effect, a government institution because it was n=
ow
devoted exclusively to government contracts; therefore the explosion and fi=
re
filled every loyal heart with a sinister suspicion that an enemy had caused=
the
calamity.
Splendid work on =
the
part of the fire department subdued the flames after but two of the huge sh=
ed-like
buildings had been destroyed. By noon the fire was controlled; a cordon of
special police surrounded the entire plant and in one of the yards a hundred
and fifty workmen were corralled under arrest until the federal officers had
made an investigation and decided where to place the blame.
Reassuring reports
had somewhat quieted Colonel Hathaway and Mary Louise, but although they
returned to their rooms, they could not sleep. Aunt Sally, realizing the
situation, had an early breakfast prepared, but when she called Josie O'Gor=
man
the girl was not in her room or in the house. She appeared just as the othe=
rs
were finishing their meal and sat down with a sigh of content.
"My, but the
coffee smells good!" she exclaimed. "I'm worn out with the excite=
ment."
"Did you go =
to
the fire, Josie?" asked Mary Louise.&=
nbsp;
"Yes, and got
there in time to help drag some of the poor fellows out. Three men in the
building where the explosion occurred were killed outright, and two others
seriously injured. Fortunately the night shift had just quit work or the
casualties would have been much greater."
"It's dreadf=
ul,
as it is," said Mary Louise with a shudder.
"What was the
cause of the explosion!" inquired the colonel.
"Dynamite,&q=
uot;
replied Josie calmly.
"Then it was=
not
an accident?"
"They don't =
use
dynamite in making airplanes. Twenty-two machines, all complete and packed
ready for shipment, were blown to smithereens. A good many others, in cours=
e of
construction, were ruined. It's a pretty bad mess, I can tell you, but the
machines can be replaced, and the lives can't."
"I wonder who
did it," said Mary Louise, staring at her friend with frightened eyes.=
"The
Kaiser," declared Josie. "He must be in fine fettle this morning,=
since
his propaganda of murder and arson has been so successful."
"I--I don't
quite understand you," faltered Mary Louise.
"Josie means
that this is the work of a direct emissary of the Kaiser," explained t=
he
colonel. "We know that among us are objectors and pacifists and those =
who
from political motives are opposing the activities of our President, but th=
ese
are not dynamiters, nor do they display their disloyalty except through foo=
lish
and futile protests. One who resorts to murder and arson in an attempt to b=
lock
the government's plans, and so retard our victory, is doubtless a hired ass=
assin
and in close touch with the German master-spies who are known to be lurking=
in
this country."
"That's the
idea, sir," approved Josie, nodding her tousled red head, "and be=
tter
expressed than any answer of mine could have been."
"Well, then,
can't this demon be arrested and punished?" asked Mary Louise.
"That remain=
s to
be seen," said Josie. "An investigation is already under way. All=
the
outgoing night shift and some of the incoming day shift have been held under
suspicion, until they can be examined and carefully questioned. I heard your
Chief of Police--whom I know and knows me--assert that without doubt the bo=
mb
had been placed by one of the workmen. I wonder what makes him think that. =
Also
the police are hunting for everyone seen loitering about the airplane plant
during the past twenty-four hours. They'll spend days--perhaps weeks--in in=
vestigating,
and then the affair will quiet down and be forgotten."
"You fear th=
ey
will not be able to apprehend the criminal?" from the colonel.
"Not the way=
the
police are going at it. They're virtually informing the criminal that they'=
re
hunting for him but don't know where to find him, and that if he isn't care=
ful
they'll get him. So he's going to be careful. It is possible, of course, th=
at
the fellow has left traces-- clues that will lead to his discovery and arre=
st.
Still, I'm not banking much on that. Such explosions have been occurring for
months, in various parts of the country, and the offenders have frequently =
escaped.
The government suspects that German spies are responsible, but an indefinite
suspicion is often as far as it gets. Evidence is lacking."
"How about y=
our
boasted department of justice, and the secret service?" asked Mary Lou=
ise.
"They're as =
good
as the German spy system, and sometimes a bit better. Don't think for a min=
ute
that our enemies are not clever," said Josie earnestly. "Sometimes
our agents make a grab; sometimes the German spy remains undiscovered. It's
diamond cut diamond--fifty-fifty. But when we get every alien enemy sequest=
ered
in zones removed from all factories doing government work, we're going to h=
ave
less trouble. A lot of these Germans and Austrians are liberty-loving
Americans, loyal and true, but we must round up the innocent many, in order=
to
squelch the guilty few."
The following week
was one of tense excitement for Dorfield. Federal officers poured into the =
city
to assist in the investigation; the victims were buried with honor and
ceremony, wrapped in American flags to show that these "soldiers of
industry" had been slain by their country's foe; the courtrooms were
filled with eager mobs hoping that evidence would be secured against some o=
ne
of the many suspects. Gradually, however, the interest decreased, as Josie =
had
predicted it would. A half dozen suspects were held for further examination=
and
the others released. New buildings were being erected at the airplane plant,
and although somewhat crippled, the business of manufacturing these necessa=
ry
engines of war was soon going on much as usual.
Mary Louise went =
into
Josie O'Gorman's room and found the young girl bent over a table on which w=
ere
spread the disloyal circulars.
"You've been
studying those things for nearly two weeks, Josie," she said. "Ha=
ve
you made any discoveries?"
"I know a lot
more about the circulars than I did," answered Josie. "For instan=
ce,
there are nineteen printing offices in Dorfield, and only two of them have =
this
kind of type."
"Oh, that's
something, indeed!" cried Mary Louise. "One of the two offices mu=
st
have printed the circulars." =
span>
"No; the cur=
ious
fact is that neither printed them," returned Josie, regarding the
circulars with a frown.
"How do you
know?"
"It's an old
style of type, not much in use at present," explained the youthful
detective. "In one printing office the case that contains this type fa=
ce
hasn't been used for months and months. I found all the compartments covered
with dust a quarter of an inch thick. There wasn't a trace of the type havi=
ng
been disturbed. I proved this by picking out a piece of type, which scatter=
ed
the dust and brought to light the shining bodies of the other type in that
compartment. So the circulars could never have been printed from that case =
of
type."
"But the oth=
er
printing office?"
"Well, there
they had a font of the same style of type, which is occasionally used in job
printing; but it's a small font and has only twenty-four small a's. I rumma=
ged
the whole shop, and found none of the type standing, out of the case. Anoth=
er
thing, they had only three capital G's, and one of those was jammed and
damaged. In the last circular issued, no less than seven capital G's appear=
. In
the first one sent out I find fifty-eight small a's. All this convinces me =
the circulars
were issued from no regular printing office."
"Then how di=
d it
get printed?" asked Mary Louise.
"That's what
puzzles me," confessed Josie. "Three of the four big manufacturing
concerns here have outfits and do their own printing--or part of it,
anyhow--and I don't mind saying I expected to find my clue in one of those
places, rather than in a regular printing office. But I've made an exhausti=
ve
search, aided by the managers, and there's no type resembling that used in =
the
circulars in any of the private print shops. In fact, I'm up a stump!"=
"But why do =
you
attach so much importance to this matter?" queried Mary Louise.
"It's the mo=
st
direct route to the traitor. Find who printed the circulars and you've got =
your
hand on the man who wrote and mailed them. But the printing baffles me, and=
so
I've started another line of investigation."
"What line is
that, Josie?"
"The circular
envelopes were addressed by hand, with pen and ink. The ink is a sort in co=
mmon
use. The envelopes are an ordinary commercial kind. The circulars are print=
ed
on half a sheet of letter-size typewriting paper, sold in several stationery
store in large quantities. No clue there. But the handwriting is interestin=
g.
It's disguised, of course, and the addressing was done by two different peo=
ple--that's
plain."
"You are
wonderful, Josie!"
"I'm stupid =
as a
clam, Mary Louise. See here!" she went to a closet and brought out a l=
arge
card-board box, which she placed upon the table. It was filled to the brim =
with
envelopes, addressed to many business firms in Dorfield, but all bearing the
local postmark. "Now, I've been days collecting these envelopes,"
continued the girl, "and I've studied them night after night. I'm
something of a handwriting expert, you know, for that is one of the things =
that
Daddy has carefully taught me. These envelopes came from all sorts of
people--folks making inquiries, paying bills, ordering goods, and the like.
I've had an idea from the first that some prominent person--no ordinary man=
--is
responsible for the circulars. They're well worded, grammatical, and the
malicious insinuations are cleverly contrived to disconcert the loyal but w=
eak brethren.
However, these envelopes haven't helped me a bit. Neither of the two persons
who addressed the envelopes of the circulars addressed any of these business
envelopes. Of that I'm positive."&nbs=
p;
"Dear me,&qu=
ot;
said Mary Louise, surprised, "I'd no idea you'd taken so much trouble,
Josie."
"Well, I've
undertaken a rather puzzling case, my dear, and it will mean more trouble t=
han
you can guess, before I've solved it. This pro-German scoundrel is clever; =
he
suspected that he'd be investigated and has taken every precaution to preve=
nt
discovery. Nevertheless, the cleverest criminal always leaves some trace be=
hind
him, if one can manage to find it, so I'm not going to despair at this stag=
e of
the game."
"Do you
know," said Mary Louise thoughtfully, "I've had an idea that ther=
e's
some connection between the explosion at the airplane works and the sender =
of
these circulars."
Josie gave her a
queer look.
"What connec=
tion
do you suspect?" she asked quickly.&n=
bsp;
"Why, the man
who wrote those circulars would not stop at any crime to harass the governm=
ent
and interfere with the promotion of the war."
"Is that as =
far
as you've gone?"
"Have you go=
ne
any farther, Josie?"
"A step, Mary
Louise. It looks to me as if there is an organized band of traitors in
Dorfield. No one person is responsible for it all. Didn't I say two differe=
nt
people addressed the circulars in disguised handwriting? Now, a bomb has to=
be
constructed, and placed, and timed, and I don't credit any one person with
handling such a job and at the same time being aware that the utmost damage=
to
the War Department's plans would be accomplished by blowing up the airplane
works. That argues intelligent knowledge of national and local affairs. The=
re
may be but two conspirators, and there may be more, but the more there are,=
the
easier it will be for me to discover them."
"Naturally,&=
quot;
agreed Mary Louise. "But, really, Josie, I don't see how you're going =
to
locate a clue that will guide you. Have you attended the trial of those
suspected of the bomb outrage?"
"I've seen a=
ll
the testimony. There isn't a culprit in the whole bunch. The real criminal =
is
not even suspected, as yet," declared Josie. "The federal officers
know this, and are just taking things easy and making the trials string out=
, to
show they're wide awake. Also I've met two secret service men here--Norman
Addison and old Jim Crissey. I know nearly all of the boys. But they haven't
learned anything important, either."&=
nbsp;
"Are these m=
en
experienced detectives?"
"They've done
some pretty good work, but nothing remarkable. In these times the governmen=
t is
forced to employ every man with any experience at all, and Crissey and Addi=
son
are just ordinary boys, honest and hard-working, but not especially talente=
d.
Daddy would have discovered something in twenty-four hours; but Daddy has b=
een
sent abroad, for some reason, and there are many cases of espionage and
sabotage fully as important as this, in this spy-infested land. That's why =
poor
Josie O'Gorman is trying to help the government, without assignment or auth=
ority.
If I succeed, however, I'll feel that I have done my bit."
"Don't you g=
et
discouraged, dear, at times?" <=
/span>
"Never! Why,
Mary Louise, discouragement would prove me a dub. I'm puzzled, though, just
now, and feeling around blindly in the dark to grab a thread that may lead =
me
to success. If I have luck, presently I'll find it."
She put away the
envelopes, as she spoke, and resuming her seat drew out her tablets and
examined the notes she had made thereon. Josie used strange characters in h=
er
memoranda, a sort of shorthand she had herself originated and which could be
deciphered only by her father or by herself.
"Here's a li=
st
of suspects," she said. "Not that they're necessarily connected w=
ith
our case, but are known to indulge in disloyal sentiments. Hal Grober, the
butcher, insists on selling meat on meatless days and won't defer to the wi=
shes
of Mr. Hoover, whom he condemns as a born American but a naturalized
Englishmen. He's another Jake Kasker, too noisy to be guilty of clever
plotting."
"They're both
un-American!" exclaimed Mary Louise. "There ought to be a law to
silence such people, Josie." =
span>
"Don't worry=
, my
dear; they'll soon be silenced," predicted her friend. "Either be=
tter
judgment will come to their aid or the federal courts will get after them. =
We
shouldn't allow anyone to throw stones at the government activities, just at
this crisis. They may think what they please, but must keep their mouths
shut."
"I'm sorry t=
hey
can even think disloyalty," said Mary Louise.
"Well, even =
that
will be remedied in time," was the cheerful response. "No war more
just and righteous was ever waged than this upon which our country has
embarked, and gradually that fact will take possession of those minds, whic=
h,
through prejudice, obstinacy or ignorance, have not yet grasped it. I'm mig=
hty
proud of my country, Mary Louise, and I believe this war is going to give us
Americans a distinction that will set us up in our own opinion and in the e=
yes
of the world. But always there is a willful objection, on the part of some,
toward any good and noble action, and we must deal charitably with these de=
luded
ones and strive to win them to an appreciation of the truth."
"Isn't that
carrying consideration too far?" asked Mary Louise.
"No. Our
ministers are after the unregenerates, not after the godly. The noblest act=
of
humanity is to uplift a fellow creature. Even in our prisons we try to refo=
rm
criminals, to make honest men of them rather than condemn them to a future =
of
crime. It would be dreadful to say: 'You're all yellow; go to thunder!'&quo=
t;
"Yes; I beli=
eve
you're right," approved the other girl. "That is, your theory is
correct, but the wicked sometimes refuse to reform."
"Usually the
fault of the reformers, my dear. But suppose we redeem a few of them, isn't=
it
worth while? Now, let me see. Here's a washwoman who says the Kaiser is a
gentleman, and a street-car driver who says it's a rich man's war. No use
bothering with such people in our present state of blind groping. And here's
the list that you, yourself, gave to me: One Silas Herring, a wholesale gro=
cer.
I'm going to see him. He's a big, successful man, and being opposed to the
administration is dangerous. Herring is worth investigating, and with him is
associated Professor John Dyer, superintendent of schools."
"Oh, Profess=
or
Dyer is all right," said Mary Louise hastily. "It was he who help=
ed
bring Mr. Herring to time, and afterward he took Gran'pa Jim's place on the
Bond Committee and solicited subscriptions."
"Did he get
any?"
"Any what?&q=
uot;
"Subscriptio=
ns."
"--I believe= so. Really, I don't know." <= o:p>
"Well, I
know," said Josie, "for I've inspected the records. Your professo=
r--who,
by the way, is only a professor by courtesy and a politician by
profession--worked four days on the bond sale and didn't turn in a single
subscription. He had a lot of wealthy men on his list and approached them in
such a manner that they all positively declined to buy bonds. Dyer's activi=
ties
kept these men from investing in bonds when, had they been properly approac=
hed,
they would doubtless have responded freely."
"Good gracio=
us!
Are you sure, Josie?"
"I'm positiv=
e.
I've got a cross opposite the name of Professor John Dyer, and I'm going to
know more about him--presently. His bosom chum is the Honorable Andrew Dunc=
an,
a man with an honest Scotch name but only a thirty-second or so of Scotch b=
lood
in his veins. His mother was a German and his grandmother Irish and his
greatgrandmother a Spanish gipsy."&nb=
sp;
"How did you
learn all that, Josie?" =
"By making
inquiries. Duncan was born in Dorfield and his father was born in the count=
y.
He's a typical American--a product of the great national melting-pot--but no
patriot because he has no sympathy for any of the European nations at war, =
or
even with the war aims of his native land. He's a selfish, scheming,
unprincipled politician; an office-holder ever since he could vote; a man w=
ho
would sacrifice all America to further his own personal ends."
"Then, you t=
hink
Mr. Duncan may--might be--is--"
"No," s=
aid
Josie, "I don't. The man might instigate a crime and encourage it, in a
subtle and elusive way, but he's too shrewd to perpetrate a crime himself. I
wouldn't be surprised if Duncan could name the man--or the band of
traitors--we're looking for, if he chose to, but you may rest assured he has
not involved his own personality in any scheme to balk the government."=
;
"I can't
understand that sort of person," said Mary. Louise, plaintively.
"It's because
you haven't studied the professional politician. He has been given too much
leeway heretofore, but his days, I firmly believe, are now numbered,"
Josie answered. "Now, here's my excuse for investigating Silas Herring=
and
his two cronies, Dyer and Duncan. All three of them happen to be political
bosses in this section. It is pretty generally known that they are not in
sympathy with President Wilson and the administration. They are shrewd enou=
gh
to know that the popularity of the war and the President's eloquent messages
have carried the country by storm. So they cannot come right out into the o=
pen
with their feelings. At the same time, they can feel themselves losing cont=
rol
of the situation. In fact, the Herring gang is fearful that at the coming
elections they will be swept aside and replaced with out-and-out loyal
supporters of the President. So they're going to try to arouse sentiment
against the administration and against the war, in order to head off the
threatened landslide. Dyer hoped to block the sale of Liberty Bonds, blindi=
ng
folks to his intent by subscribing for them himself; but you girls foiled t=
hat
scheme by your enthusiastic 'drive.' What the other conspirators have done,=
I
don't know, but I imagine their energies will not be squelched by one small
defeat. I don't expect to land any of the three in jail, but I think they a=
ll ought
to be behind the bars, and if I shadow them successfully, one or the other =
may
lead me to their tools or confederates--the ones directly guilty of issuing=
the
disloyal circulars and perhaps of placing the bomb that damaged the airplane
works and murdered some of its employes."
Mary Louise was p=
ale
with horror when Josie finished her earnest and convincing statement. She
regarded her friend's talent with profound admiration. Nevertheless, the wh=
ole
matter was becoming so deep, so involved that she could only think of it wi=
th a
shudder.
"I'm almost
sorry," said the girl, regretfully, "that I ever mixed up in this
dreadful thing."
"I'm not
sorry," returned Josie. "Chasing traitors isn't the pleasantest t=
hing
in the world, even for a regular detective, but it's a duty I owe my country
and I'm sufficiently interested to probe the affair to the extent of my
ability. If I fail, nothing is lost, and if I win I'll have done something
worth while. Here's another name on the list of suspects you gave me--Annie
Boyle, the hotel-keeper's daughter."&=
nbsp;
"Don't bother
about Annie, for goodness' sake," exclaimed Mary Louise. "She has=
n't
the brains or an opportunity to do any harm, so you'd better class her with
Kasker and the butcher."
But Josie shook h=
er
head.
"There's a c=
ross
opposite her name," said she. "I don't intend to shuffle Annie Bo=
yle
into the discard until I know more about her."
The "Liberty
Girls' Shop" was proving a veritable mint. Expenses were practically
nothing, so all the money received could be considered clear profit. It was
amusing to observe the people who frequented the shop, critically examining=
the
jumble of wares displayed, wondering who had donated this or that and meant=
ime
searching for something that could be secured at a "bargain." Mos=
t of
the shrewd women had an idea that these young girls would be quite ignorant=
of
values and might mark the articles at prices far below their worth, but the
"values" of such goods could only be conjectural, and therefore t=
he
judgment of the older women was no more reliable than that of the girls. Th=
ey
might think they were getting bargains, and perhaps were, but that was prob=
lematic.
The one outstandi=
ng
fact was that people were buying a lot of things they had no use for, merely
because they felt they were getting them cheaply and that their money would=
be
devoted to a good cause.
Mrs. Brown, who h=
ad
given the Shop a lot of discarded articles, purchased several discarded
articles donated by Mrs. Smith, her neighbor, while Mrs. Smith eagerly boug=
ht
the cast-off wares of Mrs. Brown. Either would have sneered at the bare ide=
a of
taking "truck" which the other had abandoned, had the medium of
exchange not been the popular Liberty Girls' Shop. For it was a popular sho=
p;
the "best families" patronized it; society women met there to chat
and exchange gossip; it was considered a mark of distinction and highly
patriotic to say: "Oh, yes; I've given the dear girls many really valu=
able
things to sell. They're doing such noble work, you know."
Even the eminent =
Mrs.
Charleworth, premier aristocrat of Dorfield, condescended to visit the Shop,
not once but many times. She would sit in one of the chairs in the rear of =
the
long room and hold open court, while her sycophants grouped around her, han=
ging
on her words. For Mrs. Charleworth's status was that of social leader; she =
was
a middle-aged widow, very handsome, wore wonderful creations in dress, was =
of charming
personality, was exceedingly wealthy and much traveled. When she visited New
York the metropolitan journals took care to relate the interesting fact. Mr=
s.
Charleworth was quite at home in London, Paris, Berlin and Vienna; she was
visiting friends in Dresden when the European war began, and by advice of H=
err
Zimmerman, of the German Foreign Office, who was in some way a relative, had
come straight home to avoid embarrassment. This much was generally known.
It had been a mat=
ter
of public information in the little town for a generation that Dick Charlew=
orth
had met the lady in Paris, when she was at the height of her social glory, =
and
had won the hand of the beautiful girl and brought her to Dorfield as his w=
ife.
But the wealthy young manufacturer did not long survive his marriage. On his
death, his widow inherited his fortune and continued to reside in the hands=
ome residence
he had built, although, until the war disrupted European society, she passed
much time abroad.
The slight taint =
of
German blood in Mrs. Charleworth's veins was not regarded seriously in
Dorfield. Her mother had been a Russian court beauty; she spoke several
languages fluently; she was discreet in speech and negative in sympathy
concerning the merits of the war. This lasted, however, only while the Unit=
ed
States preserved neutrality. As soon as we cast our fortunes with the Allie=
s,
Mrs. Charleworth organized the "Daughters of Helpfulness," an
organization designed to aid our national aims, but a society cult as well.
Under its auspices two private theatrical entertainments had been given at =
the
Opera House and the proceeds turned over to the Red Cross. A grand charity =
ball
had been announced for a future date.
It may easily be
understood that when Mrs. Charleworth became a patroness of the Liberty Gir=
ls'
Shop, and was known to have made sundry purchases there, the high standing =
of
that unique enterprise was assured. Some folks perhaps frequented the place=
to
obtain a glimpse of the great Mrs. Charleworth herself, but of course these
were without the pale of her aristocratic circle.
Their social triu=
mph,
however, was but one reason for the girls' success; the youngsters were
enticing in themselves, and they proved to be clever in making sales. The f=
irst
stock soon melted away and was replaced by new contributions, which the gir=
ls
took turns in soliciting. The best residences in Dorfield were first canvas=
sed,
then those of people in moderate circumstances. The merchants were not over=
looked
and Mary Louise took the regular stores personally in charge.
"Anything you
have that you can't sell, we will take," was her slogan, and most of t=
he
merchants found such articles and good-naturedly contributed them to the Sh=
op.
"Sooner or l=
ater
we shall come to the end of our resources," predicted Alora Jones.
"We've ransacked about every house in town for contributions."
"Let's make a
second canvas then," suggested Lucile. "And especially, let us ma=
ke a
second appeal to those who did not give us anything on our first round. Our
scheme wasn't thoroughly understood at first, you know, but now folks regar=
d it
an honor to contribute to our stock."=
"Yes," =
said
Jane Donovan, "I had to laugh when Mrs. Charleworth asked Mrs. Dyer
yesterday what she had given us, and Mrs. Dyer stammered and flushed and sa=
id
that when we called on her the Dyers were only renting the house and furnit=
ure,
which belonged to the Dudley-Markhams, who are in South America; but, Mrs. =
Dyer
added, they have now bought the place--old furniture and all--and perhaps s=
he
would yet find some items she can spare."
"Very
good," said Edna Barlow; "the Dyers are in my district and I'll c=
all
upon them at once."
"Have the Dy=
ers
really bought the Dudley-Markham place?" asked Mary Louise.
"So it
seems," replied Jane.
"But--'it mu=
st
have cost a lot of money."
"Isn't the
Professor rich?" inquired Josie O'Gorman, who was present and had list=
ened
quietly to the conversation. =
"I-don't-kno=
w,"
answered Mary Louise, and the other girls forbore to answer more definitely=
.
That evening,
however, Josie approached the subject when she and Mary Louise were sitting
quietly at home and the conversation more confidential.
"The
Dyers," explained her friend, "were not very prosperous until the=
Professor
got the appointment as superintendent of schools. He was a teacher in a boy=
s'
school for years, on a small salary, and everyone was surprised when he sec=
ured
the appointment."
"How did it
happen?" asked Josie.
Mary Louise looked
across at her grandfather.
"How did it
happen, Gran'pa Jim?" she repeated.&n=
bsp;
The old colonel
lowered his book.
"We haven't =
been
residents of Dorfield many years," said he, "so I am not well
acquainted with the town's former history. But I remember to have heard that
the Herring political ring, which elected our Board of Education, proposed =
John
Dyer for the position of school superintendent--and the Board promptly gave=
him
the appointment."
"Was he prop=
erly
qualified?" Josie asked.
"I think so.=
A
superintendent is a sort of business manager. He doesn't teach, you know. B=
ut I
understand the Professor received his education abroad--at Heidelburg--and =
is
well versed in modern educational methods. Our schools seem to be conducted
very well."
Josie was thought=
ful
for a time, and after the colonel had resumed his book, she asked Mary Loui=
se:
"Who was Mrs.
Dyer, before her marriage?"
"That is anc=
ient
history, as far as I am concerned, but I heard the girls talking about her,
just the other day. Her family, it seems, was respectable but unimportant; =
yet
Mrs. Dyer is very well liked. She's not brilliant, but kindly. When we first
came here, the Dyers lived in a little cottage on Juniper street, and it is
only lately that they moved to the big house they've just bought. Mrs. Dyer=
is
now trying hard for social recognition, but seems to meet with little encou=
ragement.
Mrs. Charleworth speaks to her, you know, but doesn't invite Mrs. Dyer to h=
er
affairs."
Next day Edna Bar=
low,
after a morning's quest of contributions, returned to the Shop in triumph.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"There's alm=
ost
a truck-load of stuff outside, to be unloaded," she announced, "a=
nd a
good half of it is from Mrs. Dyer--a lot of the old Dudley-Markham rubbish,=
you
know. It has class to it, girls, and when it has been freshened up, we're s=
ure
to get good prices for the lot."
"I'm surpris=
ed
that Mrs. Dyer was so liberal," said Mary Louise.
"Well, at fi=
rst
she said the Professor had gone to Chicago on business, and so she couldn't=
do
anything for us," replied Edna; "but I insisted that we needed go=
ods
right now, so she finally said we could go up in the attic, and rummage aro=
und,
and take whatever we could find. My, what a lot of useless stuff there was!
That attic has more smashed and battered and broken-legged furniture in it =
than
would furnish six houses--provided it was in shape. The accumulation of age=
s.
But a lot of it is antique, girls, and worth fixing up. I've made the best =
haul
of our career, I verily believe."&nbs=
p;
Then Laura Hilton,
who had accompanied Edna, added:
"When Mrs. D=
yer
saw our men carrying all that stuff down, she looked as if she regretted her
act and would like to stop us. But she didn't--was ashamed to, probably--so=
we
lugged it off. Never having been used to antique furniture, the poor woman
couldn't realize the value of it."&nb=
sp;
"This seems =
to
me almost like robbery," remarked Lucile, doubtfully. "Do you thi=
nk
it right for us to take advantage of the woman's ignorance?"
"Remember the
Cause for which we fight!" admonished Irene, from her chair. "If =
the
things people are not using, and do not want, can provide comforts for our
soldier boys, we ought to secure them--if we have to take them by force.&qu=
ot;
The attic of the =
old
house had really turned out a number of interesting articles. There were
tables, stands, settees, chairs, and a quaint old desk, set on a square
pedestal with a base of carved lions' feet. This last interested Josie as s=
oon
as it was carried into the shop. The top part was somewhat dilapidated, the
cover of the desk being broken off and some of the "pigeonhole"
compartments smashed. But there was an odd lot of tiny drawers, located in
every conceivable place, all pretty well preserved, and the square pedestal=
and
the base were in excellent condition.
Josie open drawer
after drawer and looked the old cabinet-desk over thoroughly, quite unobser=
ved
because the others in the shop were admiring a Chippendale chair or waiting
upon their customers. Presently Josie approached Mary Louise and asked:
"What will y=
ou
take for the pedestal-desk--just as it stands?"
"Why, I'll l=
et
Irene put a price on it," was the reply. "She knows values better
than the rest of us."
"If it's fix=
ed
up, it will be worth twenty dollars," said Irene, after wheeling her c=
hair
to the desk for a critical examination of it.
"Well, what =
will
it cost to fix it up?" demanded Josie.
"Perhaps five
dollars."
"Then I'll g=
ive
you fifteen for it, just as it stands," proposed Josie.
"You? What c=
ould
you do with the clumsy thing?"
"Ship it hom=
e to
Washington," was the prompt reply. "It would tickle Daddy immense=
ly
to own such an unusual article, so I want to make him a present of it on his
birthday."
"Hand over t=
he
fifteen dollars, please," decided Irene.
Josie paid the mo=
ney.
She caught the drayman who had unloaded the furniture and hired him to take=
the
desk at once to the Hathaway residence. She even rode with the man, on the
truck, and saw the battered piece of furniture placed in her own room. Leav=
ing
it there, she locked her door and went back to the Shop.
The girls were mu=
ch
amused when they learned they had made so important a sale to one of
themselves.
"If we had a=
sked
Mrs. Dyer to give us fifteen dollars, cold cash," remarked Laura,
"she would have snubbed us properly; but the first article from her at=
tic
which we sold has netted us that sum and I really believe we will get from
fifty to seventy-five dollars more out of the rest of the stuff."
Mrs. Charleworth
dropped in during the afternoon and immediately became interested in the
Dudley-Markham furniture. The family to whom it had formerly belonged she k=
new
had been one of the very oldest and most important in Dorfield. The
Dudley-Markhams had large interests in Argentine and would make their future
home there, but here were the possessions of their grandmothers and
great-grandmothers, rescued from their ancient dust, and Mrs. Charleworth w=
as a
person who loved antiques and knew their sentimental and intrinsic values.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"The Dyers w=
ere
foolish to part with these things," she asserted. "Of course, Mary
Dyer isn't supposed to know antiques, but the professor has lived abroad an=
d is
well educated."
"The profess=
or
wasn't at home," explained Edna. "Perhaps that was lucky for us. =
He
is in Chicago, and we pleaded so hard that Mrs. Dyer let us go into the att=
ic
and help ourselves."
"Well, that
proves she has a generous heart," said the grand lady, with a peculiar,
sphinx-like smile. "I will buy these two chairs, at your price, when y=
ou
are ready to sell them."
"We will hold
them for you," replied Edna. "They're to be revarnished and prope=
rly
'restored,' you know, and we've a man in our employ who knows just how to do
it."
When Mary Louise =
told
Colonel Hathaway, jokingly, at dinner that evening, of Josie's extravagant
purchase, her girl friend accepted the chaffing composedly and even with a
twinkle in her baby-blue eyes. She made no comment and led Mary Louise to
discourse on other subjects. =
That night Josie =
sat
up late, locked in her own room, with only the pedestal-desk for company. F=
irst
she dropped to her knees, pushed up a panel in the square base, and disclos=
ed
the fact that in this inappropriate place were several cleverly constructed
secret compartments, two of which were well filled with papers. The papers =
were
not those of the Dudley-Markhams; they were not yellowed with age; they were
quite fresh.
"There!"
whispered the girl, triumphantly; "the traitor is in my toils. Is it j=
ust
luck, I wonder, or has fate taken a hand in the game? How the Kaiser would
frown, if he knew what I am doing to-night; and how Daddy would laugh!
But--let's see!--perhaps this is just a wedge, and I'll need a sledge-hamme=
r to
crack open the whole conspiracy."&nbs=
p;
The reason Josie
stayed up so late was because she carefully examined every paper and copied
most of those she had found. But toward morning she finished her self-impos=
ed
task, replaced the papers, slid the secret panel into place and then dragged
the rather heavy piece of furniture into the far end of the deep closet that
opened off her bedroom. Before the desk she hung several dresses, quite mas=
king
it from observation. Then she went to bed and was asleep in two minutes.
Strange as it may
seem, Mary Louise and her Liberty Girls were regarded with envy by many of =
the
earnest women of Dorfield, who were themselves working along different line=
s to
promote the interests of the government in the Great War. Every good woman =
was
anxious to do her duty in this national emergency, but every good woman lov=
es
to have her efforts appreciated, and since the advent of the bevy of pretty
young girls in the ranks of female patriotism, they easily became the favor=
ites
in public comment and appreciation. Young men and old cheerfully backed the=
Liberty
Girls in every activity they undertook. The Dorfield Red Cross was a branch=
of
the wonderful national organization; the "Hoover Conservation Club&quo=
t;
was also national in its scope; the "Navy League Knitting Knot" s=
ent
its work to Washington headquarters; all were respectfully admired and
financially assisted on occasion. But the "Liberty Girls of Dorfield&q=
uot;
were distinctly local and a credit to the city. Their pretty uniforms were
gloriously emblematic, their fresh young faces glowed with enthusiasm, their
specialty of "helping our soldier boys" appealed directly to the
hearts of the people. Many a man, cold and unemotional heretofore in his
attitude toward the war, was won to a recognition of its menace, its necess=
ities,
and his personal duty to his country, by the arguments and example of the
Liberty Girls. If there was a spark of manhood in him, he would not allow a
young girl to out-do him in patriotism.&nb=
sp;
Mary Louise gradu=
ally
added to her ranks, as girl after girl begged to be enrolled in the organiz=
ation.
After consulting the others, it was decided to admit all desirable girls
between the ages of 14 and 18, and six companies were formed during the
following weeks, each company consisting of twenty girls. The captains were=
the
original six--Alora, Laura, Edna, Lucile, Jane and Mary Louise. Irene
Macfarlane was made adjutant and quartermaster, because she was unable to
participate actively in the regimental drills.
Mary Louise wanted
Josie to be their general, but Josie declined. She even resigned, temporari=
ly,
from membership, saying she had other duties to attend to that would require
all her time. Then the girls wanted Mary Louise to be general of the Dorfie=
ld
Liberty Girls, but she would not consent.&=
nbsp;
"We will just
have the six companies and no general at all," she said. "Nor do =
we
need a colonel, or any officers other than our captains. Each and every gir=
l in
our ranks is just as important and worthy of honor as every other girl, so =
the
fewer officers the better."
About this time J=
oe
Langley came back from France with one arm gone. He was Sergeant Joe Langle=
y,
now, and wore a decoration for bravery that excited boundless admiration and
pride throughout all Dorfield. Joe had driven a milk wagon before he left h=
ome
and went to Canada to join the first contingent sent abroad, but no one
remembered his former humble occupation. A hero has no past beyond his hero=
ism.
The young man's empty sleeve and his decoration admitted him to intercourse
with the "best society" of Dorfield, which promptly placed him on=
a
pedestal.
"You know,&q=
uot;
said Joe, rather shamefacedly deprecating the desire to lionize him,
"there wasn't much credit in what I did. I'm even sorry I did it, for =
my
foolishness sent me to the hospital an' put me out o' the war. But there was
Tom McChesney, lyin' out there in No Man's Land, with a bullet in his chest=
an'
moanin' for water. Tom was a good chum o' mine, an' I was mad when I saw him
fall--jest as the Boches was drivin' us back to our trenches. I know'd the =
poor
cuss was in misery, an' I know'd what I'd expect a chum o' mine to do if I =
was
in Tom's place. So out I goes, with my Cap'n yellin' at me to stop, an' I g=
ot
to Tom an' give him a good, honest swig. The bullets pinged around us, alth=
ough
I saw a German officer--a decent young fellow--try to keep his men from
shootin'. But he couldn't hold 'em in, so I hoisted Tom on my back an' star=
ted
for our trenches. Got there, too, you know, jest as a machine-gun over to t=
he
right started spoutin'. It didn't matter my droppin' Tom in the trench an'
tumblin' after him. The boys buried him decent while the sawbones was cutti=
n'
what was left of my arm away, an' puttin' me to sleep with dope. It was a f=
ool
trick, after all, 'though God knows I'll never forget the look in Tom's eye=
s as
he swallered that swig o' cool water. That's all, folks. I'm out o' the gam=
e,
an' I s'pose the Gen'ral jus' pinned this thing on my coat so I wouldn't ta=
ke my
discharge too much to heart." <=
/span>
That was Joe Lang=
ley.
Do you wonder they forgot he was once a milk-man, or that every resident of
Dorfield swelled with pride at the very sight of him? Just one of "our
soldier boys," just one of the boys the Liberty Girls were trying to
assist.
"They're all
alike," said Mary Louise. "I believe every American soldier would=
be
a Joe Langley if he had the chance."&=
nbsp;
Joe took a mighty
interest in the Liberty Girls. He volunteered to drill and make soldiers of
them, and so well did he perform this task-- perhaps because they admired h=
im
and were proud of their drill-master-- that when the last big lot of select=
ed
draft men marched away, the entire six companies of Liberty Girls marched w=
ith
them to the train-- bands playing and banners flying--and it was conceded t=
o be
one of the greatest days Dorfield had ever known, because everyone cheered
until hoarse.
Josie O'Gorman, a=
fter
resigning from the Liberty Girls, became--so she calmly stated--a
"loafer." She wandered around the streets of Dorfield in a seemin=
gly
aimless manner, shopped at the stores without buying, visited the houses of=
all
sorts of people, on all sorts of gossipy errands, interviewed lawyers, bank=
ers
and others in an inconsequential way that amused some and annoyed others, a=
nd
conducted herself so singularly that even Mary Louise was puzzled by her
actions.
But Josie said to
Mary Louise: "My, what a lot I'm learning! There's nothing more
interesting--or more startling--or, sometimes, more repulsive--than human
nature."
"Have you
learned anything about the German spy plot?" questioned Mary Louise
eagerly.
"Not yet. My
quest resembles a cart-wheel. I go all around the outer rim first, and mark=
the
spokes when I come to them. Then I follow each spoke toward the center. The=
y'll
all converge to the hub, you know, and when I've reached the hub, with all =
my
spokes of knowledge radiating from it, I'm in perfect control of the whole
situation."
"Oh. How far=
are
you from the hub, Josie?"
"I'm still
marking the spokes, Mary Louise."&nbs=
p;
"Are there m=
any
of them?"
"More than I
suspected."
"Well, I
realize, dear, that you'll tell me nothing until you are ready to confide in
me; but please remember, Josie, how impatient I am and how I long to bring =
the
traitors to justice."
"I won't for=
get,
Mary Louise. We're partners in this case and perhaps I shall ask your help,
before long. Some of my spokes may be blinds and until I know something
positive there's no use in worrying you with confidences which are merely
surmises."
Soon after this
conversation Mary Louise found herself, as head of the Liberty Girls, in an
embarrassing position. Professor Dyer returned from Chicago on an evening t=
rain
and early next morning was at the Shop even before its doors were opened,
impatiently awaiting the arrival of Mary Louise.
"There has b=
een
a mistake," he said to her, hastily, as she smilingly greeted him;
"in my absence Mrs. Dyer has thoughtlessly given you some old furnitur=
e,
which I value highly. It was wife's blunder, of course, but I want back two=
of
the articles and I'm willing to pay your Shop as much for them as you could=
get
elsewhere."
"Oh, I'm awf=
ully
sorry, Professor," said the girl, really distressed, as she unlocked t=
he
Shop door. "Come in, please. Mrs. Dyer told our girls to go into the a=
ttic
and help themselves to anything they wanted. We've done splendidly with the=
old
furniture, and fenders, and brassware, but I hope the two articles you prize
are still unsold. If so, you shall not pay us for them, but we will deliver
them to your house immediately."
He did not reply,= for already he was searching through the accumulation of odds and ends with whi= ch the store-room was stocked. <= o:p>
"Perhaps I c=
an
help you," suggested Mary Louise.&nbs=
p;
He turned to her,
seeming to hesitate.
"One was a chair; a chair with spindle legs and a high back, richly carved. It is made= of black oak, I believe." <= o:p>
"Oh, I remem=
ber
that well," said the girl. "Mrs. Charleworth bought it from us.&q=
uot;
"Mrs.
Charleworth? Well, perhaps she will return it to me. I know the lady slight=
ly
and will explain that I did not wish to part with it." Still his eyes =
were
roving around the room, and his interest in the chair seemed somewhat
perfunctory. "The other piece of furniture was a sort of escritoire, s=
et
on a square pedestal that had a carved base of lions' feet." His voice=
had
grown eager now, although he strove to render it calm, and there was a ring=
of
anxiety in his words.
Mary Louise felt
relieved as she said assuringly:
"That, at le= ast, I can promise you will be returned. My friend, Josie O'Gorman, bought it and had it sent to our house, where she is visiting. As soon as some of the gir= ls come here to relieve me, I'll take you home with me and have Uncle Eben car= ry the desk to your house in our motor car. It isn't so very big, and Uncle Eb= en can manage it easily." <= o:p>
The tense look on=
the
man's face relaxed. It evident that Professor Dyer was greatly relieved.
"Thank
you," he said; "I'd like to get it back as soon as possible."=
;
But when, half an
hour later, they arrived at the Hathaway residence, and met Josie just prep=
aring
to go out, the latter said with a bewildered look in her blue eyes: "T=
he
old desk? Why, I sent that home to Washington days ago!"
"You did?&qu=
ot;
Mary Louise was quite surprised. "Why, you said nothing to me about th=
at,
Josie."
"I didn't
mention it because I'd no idea you were interested. Daddy loves old things,=
and
I sent it home so he would have it on his return. By freight. You are away =
at
the Shop all day, you know, so I asked Uncle Eben to get me a big box, whic=
h he
brought to my room. The desk fitted it nicely. I nailed on the cover myself,
and Uncle Eben took it to the freight office for me. See; here's the receip=
t,
in my pocket-book."
She unfolded a pa=
per
and held it out to Professor Dyer, who read it with a queer look on his fac=
e.
It was, indeed, a freight receipt for "one piece of furniture,
boxed," to be shipped to John O'Gorman, Washington, D. C, The sender w=
as
described as "Miss J. O'Gorman, Dorfield." There was no questioni=
ng
Josie's veracity, but she called the black servant to substantiate her stor=
y.
"Yes, Miss
Josie," said Uncle Eben, "I done took de box to de freight office=
an'
got de receipt, lak yo' tol' me. Tuesday, it were; las' Tuesday."
Professor Dyer was
thoughtful.
"You say your
father is away from home at present?" he asked.
"Yes; he's
abroad."
"Do you supp=
ose
the freight office in Washington would deliver the box to me, on your
order?"
"I'm afraid
not," said Josie, "It's consigned to John O'Gorman, and only John
O'Gorman can sign for its receipt."&n=
bsp;
Again the Profess=
or
reflected. He seemed considerably disturbed.
"What is the
business of John O'Gorman, your father?" he presently inquired.
"He's a memb=
er
of the government's secret service," Josie replied, watching his face.=
The professor's e=
yes
widened; he stood a moment as if turned to stone. Then he gave a little, fo=
rced
laugh and said:
"I'm obliged=
to
make a trip to Washington, on business, and I thought perhaps I'd pick up
the--ah--the box, there, and ship to Dorfield. The old desk isn't valuable,
except--except that it's--ah--antique and--unusual. I'd like to get it back=
and
I'll return to you the money you paid for it, and the freight charges. If
you'll write a note to the railway company, saying the box was wrongly
addressed and asking that it be delivered to my order, I think I can get
it."
Josie agreed to t=
his
at once. She wrote the note and also gave Professor Dyer the freight receip=
t.
But she refused to take his money. <=
/span>
"There might=
be
some hitch," she explained. "If you get the box, and it reaches D=
orfield
safely, then I'll accept the return of my money; but railroads are unreliab=
le
affairs and have queer rules, so let's wait and see what happens."
The Professor ass=
ured
her, however, that there was no doubt of his getting the box, but he Would =
wait
to pay her, if she preferred to let the matter rest. When he had gone
away--seeming far more cheerful than when he came--Mary Louise said to Josi=
e:
"This is a v= ery unfortunate and embarrassing affair, all around. I'm so sorry we took that furniture from Mrs. Dyer before her husband came home and gave his consent.= It is very embarrassing." <= o:p>
"I'm glad, f=
or
my part," was the reply. Josie's blue eyes were shining innocently and=
her
smile was very sweet. Mary Louise regarded her suspiciously.
"What is it,=
Josie!"
she demanded. "What has that old desk to do with--with--"
"The German =
spy
plot? Just wait and see, Mary Louise."
"You won't t=
ell
me?"
"Not now,
dear."
"But why did=
you
ship the thing to Washington, if it is likely to prove a valuable clue?&quo=
t;
"Why ask
questions that I can't answer? See here, Mary Louise: it isn't wise, or even
safe, for me to tell you anything just yet. What I know frightens me--even =
me!
Can't you wait and--trust me?"
"Oh, of
course," responded Mary Louise in a disappointed voice. "But I fa=
il
to understand what Professor Dyer's old desk can possibly have to do with o=
ur
quest."
Josie laughed.
"It used to
belong to the Dudley-Markhams."
"The
Dudley-Markhams! Great heavens, But--see here--they left Dorfield long befo=
re
this war started, and so--"
"I'm going
out," was Josie's inconsequent remark. "Do you think those are ra=
in
clouds, Mary Louise? I hate to drag around an umbrella if it's not
needed."
The two girls par=
ted
at the Liberty Shop. Mary Louise went in "to attend to business,"
while Josie O'Gorman strolled up the street and paused thoughtfully before =
the
windows of Kasker's Clothing Emporium. At first she didn't notice that it w=
as
Kasker's; she looked in the windows at the array of men's wear just so she
could think quietly, without attracting attention, for she was undecided as=
to
her next move. But presently, realizing this was Kasker's place, she gave a=
little
laugh and said to herself: "This is the fellow poor little Mary Louise
suspected of being the arch traitor. I wonder if he knows anything at all, =
or
if I could pump it out of him if he does? Guess I'll interview old Jake, if
only to satisfy myself that he's the harmless fool I take him to be."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
With this in mind=
she
walked into the store. A clerk met her; other clerks were attending to a few
scattered customers.
"Is Mr. Kask=
er
in?" she asked the young man. <=
/span>
"In his offi=
ce,
miss; to the right, half way down."&n=
bsp;
He left her to gr=
eet
another who entered and Josie walked down the aisle, as directed. The office
was raised a step above the main floor and was railed in, with a small swin=
ging
gate to allow entrance. This was not the main business office but the
proprietor's special den and his desk was placed so he could overlook the
entire establishment, with one glance. Just at present Kasker was engaged in
writing, or figuring, for his bushy head was bent low.
Josie opened the
gate, walked in and took a chair that stood beside the desk.
"Good mornin=
g,
Mr. Kasker," she said sweetly.
He looked up, swe=
pt
her with a glance and replied:
"What's the
matter? Can't one of the clerks attend to you? I'm busy."
"I'll
wait," was Josie's quiet reply. "I'd rather deal with you than a =
clerk."
He hesitated, laid
down his pen and turned his chair toward her. She knew the man, by sight, b=
ut
if he had ever seen the girl he did not recall the fact. His tone was now
direct and businesslike.
"Very well,
miss; tell me what I can do for you."=
It had only taken=
her
an instant to formulate her speech.
"I'm interes=
ted
in the poor children of Dorfield," she began, "having been sent h=
ere
as the agent of an organization devoted to clothing our needy little ones. I
find, since I have been soliciting subscriptions in Dorfield and investigat=
ing
the requirements of the poor, that there are a lot of boys, especially, in =
this
city who are in rags, and I want to purchase for them as many outfits as my
money will allow. But on account of the war, and its demands on people form=
erly
charitably inclined, I realize my subscription money is altogether too litt=
le
to do what I wish. That's too bad, but it's true. Everywhere they talk war-=
-war---war
and its hardships. The war demands money for taxes, bonds, mess funds, the =
Red
Cross and all sorts of things, and in consequence our poor are being sadly
neglected."
He nodded, somewh=
at
absently, but said nothing. Josie felt her clever bait had not been taken, =
as
she had expected, so she resolved to be more audacious in her remarks.
"It seems a
shame," she said with assumed indignation, "that the poor of the
country must starve and be in want, while the money is all devoted to raisi=
ng
an army for the Germans to shoot and mangle."
He saw the point =
and
answered with a broad smile: =
"Is that the
alternative, young lady? Must one or the other happen? Well--yes; the soldi=
ers
must be killed, God help 'em! But himmel! We don't let our kiddies freeze f=
or
lack of clothes, do we? See here; they're taking everything away from us
merchants--our profits, our goods, everything!--but the little we got left =
the
kiddies can have. The war is a robber; it destroys; it puts its hand in an
honest man's pocket without asking his consent; all wars do that. The men w=
ho
make wars have no souls--no mercy. But they make wars. Wars are desperate t=
hings
and require desperate methods. There is always the price to pay, and the pe=
ople
always pay it. The autocrats of war do not say 'Please!' to us; they say 'H=
old
up your hands!' and so--what is there to do but hold up our hands?"
Josie was delight=
ed;
she was exultant; Jake Kasker was falling into her trap very swiftly.
"But the lit=
tle
ones," he continued, suddenly checking himself in his tirade, "mu=
st
not be made to suffer like the grown-up folks. They, at least, are innocent=
of
it all. Young lady, I'd do more for the kids than I'd do for the war--and I=
'll
do it willingly, of my own accord. Tell me, then, how much money you got and
I'll give you the boys' suits at cost price. I'll do more; for every five s=
uits
you buy from me at cost, I'll throw an extra one in, free--Jake Kasker's ow=
n contribution."
This offer startl=
ed
and somewhat dismayed Josie. She had not expected the interview to take suc=
h a
turn, and Kasker's generosity seriously involved her, while, at the same ti=
me,
it proved to her without a doubt that the man was a man. He was loud mouthed
and foolish; that was all.
While she gathered
her wits to escape from an unpleasant situation, a quick step sounded on the
aisle and a man brusquely entered the office and exclaimed:
"Hello, Jake;
I'm here again. How's the suspender stock?"
Kasker gave him a
surly look.
"You come pr=
etty
often, Abe Kauffman," he muttered. "Suspenders? Bah! I only buy '=
em
once a year, and you come around ev'ry month or so. I don't think it pays y=
ou
to keep pesterin' merchants." <=
/span>
Abe Kauffman
laughed--a big laugh--and sat down in a chair.
"One time you
buy, Jake, and other times I come to Dorfield somebody else buys. How do I =
know
you don't get a run on suspenders some time? And if I don't visit all my cu=
stomers,
whether they buy or not, they think I neglect 'em. Who's this, Jake? Your
daughter?"
He turned his bla=
nd
smile on Josie. He was a short, thickset man with a German cast of countena=
nce.
He spoke with a stronger German accent than did Kasker. Though his face
persistently smiled, his eyes were half closed and shrewd. When he looked at
her, Josie gave a little shudder and slightly drew back.
"Ah, that's a
wrong guess," said Mr. Kauffman quickly. "I must beg your pardon,=
my
girl. But I meant a compliment to you both. Accept my card, please," a=
nd
he drew it from his pocket and handed it to her with a bow.
Josie glanced at =
it:
"KAUFFMAN
SUSPENDER COMPANY, Chicago. Abe Kauffman, President."
"My business
does not interest ladies," he went on in a light tone meant to be jovi=
al.
"But with the men--ah!--with the men it's a hold-up game. Ha, ha, hee!=
One
of our trade jokes. It's an elastic business; Kauffman's suspenders keep th=
eir
wearers in suspense. Ha, ha; pretty good, eh?"
"Do you ever
sell any?" asked Josie curiously.&nbs=
p;
"Do I? Do I,
Jake? Ha, ha! But not so many now; the war has ruined the suspender busines=
s,
like everything else. Kasker can tell you that, miss."
"Kasker won'=
t,
though," asserted Jake in a surly tone. The girl, however, was now on
another scent.
"Don't you l=
ike
the war, then?" Josie asked the salesman.
"Like it?&qu=
ot;
the eyes half opened with a flash. "Who likes war, then? Does humanity,
which bears the burden? For me--myself--I'll say war is a good thing, but I
won't tell you why or how I profit by it; I'll only say war is a curse to
humanity and if I had the power I'd stop it tomorrow--to-day--this very hou=
r!
And, at that, I'd lose by it."
His voice shook w=
ith
a passion almost uncontrollable. He half rose from his chair, with clinched
fists. But, suddenly remembering himself, or reading the expression on the
girl's face, he sank back again, passed his hand over his face and forced
another bland, unmirthful smile.
"I'd hate to=
be
the man who commits his country to war," he said in mild, regretful to=
nes.
But here, Kasker,=
who
had been frowning darkly on the suspender man, broke in.
"See here, A=
be;
I don't allow that kind of talk in my store," he growled.
"You? You're
like me; you hate the war, Jake."&nbs=
p;
"I did once,
Abe, but I don't now. I ain't got time to hate it. It's here, and I can't h=
elp
it. We're in the war and we're going ahead to win it, 'cause there ain't no
hope in backing down. Stop it? Why, man, we can't stop it. It's like a man =
who
is pushed off a high bank into a river; he's got to swim to a landing on the
other side, or else--sink. We Americans ain't goin' to sink, Abe Kauffman;
we'll swim over, and land safe. It's got to be; so it will be."
"All right. I
said, didn't I, that it won't hurt my pocket? But it hurts my heart."
(Josie was amazed that he claimed a heart.) "But it's funny to hear you
talk for the war, Jake, when you always hated it."
"Well, I've =
quit
kickin' till we're out of the woods. I'm an American, Abe, and the American
flag is flying in France. If our boys can't hold it in the face of the enem=
y,
Jake Kasker will go do it himself!"&n=
bsp;
Kauffman stood up,
casting a glance of scorn on his customer.=
"You talk li=
ke a
fool, Jake; you talk like you was talking for the papers--not honest, but a=
s if
someone had scared you."
"Yes; it's t=
he
fellows like you that scare me," retorted the clothing merchant.
"Ev'ry time you curse the war you're keeping us from winning the war as
quick as we ought to; you're tripping the soldiers, the government, the Pre=
sident--the
whole machine. I'll admit I don't like the war, but I'm for it, just the sa=
me.
Can you figure that out, Abe Kauffman? Once I had more sense than you have,=
but
now I got a better way of thinking. It ain't for me to say whether the war's
right or not; my country's honor is at stake, so I'll back my country to the
last ditch."
Kauffman turned a=
way.
"I guess you
don't need any suspenders," he said, and walked out of the store.
Kasker gave a sig=
h of
relief and sat down again.
"Now, young
lady," he began, "we'll talk about--"
"Excuse
me," said Josie hastily. "I'm going, now; but I'll be back. I wan=
t to
see you again, Mr. Kasker."
She ran down the
aisle to the door, looked up and down the street and saw the thick-set form=
of
the suspender salesman just disappearing around the corner to the south.
Instantly she stepped out. Josie was an expert in the art of shadowing.
When Mary Louise
reached home that evening she was surprised to find a note from Josie which=
said:
"I've decide=
d to
change my boarding place for a week or so, although I shall miss Aunt Sally=
's
cooking and a lot of other comforts. But this is business. If you meet me in
the street, don't recognize me unless I'm quite alone. We've quarrelled, if=
anyone
asks you. Pretty soon we'll make up again and be friends. Of course, you'll
realize I'm working on our case, which grows interesting. So keep mum and
behave."
"I wish I kn=
ew
where she's gone," was Mary Louise's anxious comment, as she showed th=
e note
to Gran'pa Jim.
"Don't worry=
, my
dear," advised the colonel. "Josie possesses the rare faculty of
being able to take care of herself under all circumstances. Had she not bee=
n so
peculiarly trained by her detective father I would feel it a duty to search=
for
her, but she is not like other girls and wouldn't thank us for interfering,=
I'm
sure."
"I can't see=
the
necessity of her being so mysterious about it," declared the girl.
"Josie ought to know I'm worthy of her confidence. And she said, just =
the
other day, that we're partners."
"You must be=
the
silent partner, then," said her grandfather, smiling at her vexed
expression. "Josie is also worthy of confidence. She may blunder, but =
if
so, she'll blunder cleverly. I advise you to be patient with her."
"Well, I'll =
try,
Gran'pa. When we see her again she will probably know something
important," said Mary Louise resignedly.
As for little,
red-headed Josie O'Gorman, she walked into the office of the Mansion House =
that
afternoon, lugging a battered suit-case borrowed from Aunt Sally, and asked=
the
clerk at the desk for weekly rates for room and board. The clerk spoke to M=
r.
Boyle, the proprietor, who examined the girl critically.
"Where are y=
ou
from?" he asked.
"New York,&q=
uot;
answered Josie. "I'm a newspaper woman, but the war cost me my job,
because the papers are all obliged to cut down their forces. So I came here=
to
get work."
"The war aff=
ects
Dorfield, too, and we've only two papers," said the man. "But your
business isn't my business, in any event. I suppose you can pay in
advance?"
"For a week,
anyhow," she returned; "perhaps two weeks: If the papers can't use
me, I'll try for some other work."&nb=
sp;
"Know anybody
here?"
"I know Colo=
nel
Hathaway, but I'm not on good terms with his granddaughter, Mary Louise. We=
had
a fight over the war. Give me a quiet room, not too high up. This place loo=
ks
like a fire-trap."
As she spoke, she
signed her name on the register and opened her purse.
Boyle looked over=
his
keyboard.
"Give me 47,=
if
you can," said Josie carelessly. She had swiftly run her eye over the
hotel register. "Forty-seven is always my lucky number."
"It's
taken," said the clerk. =
"Well, 43 is=
the
next best," asserted Josie. "I made forty-three dollars the last =
week
I was in New York. Is 43 taken, also?"
"No," s=
aid
Boyle, "but I can do better by you. Forty-three is a small room and has
only one window."
"Just the
thing!" declared Josie. "I hate big rooms."
He assigned her to
room 43 and after she had paid a week in advance a bellboy showed her to the
tiny apartment and carried her suitcase.&n=
bsp;
"Number 45'l=
l be
vacant in a day or two," remarked the boy, as he unlocked her door.
"Kauffman has it now, but he won't stay long. He's a suspender drummer=
and
comes about every month--sometimes oftener--and always has 45. When he goes,
I'll let you know, so you can speak for it. Forty-five is one of our best
rooms."
"Thank
you," said Josie, and tipped him a quarter.
As she opened her
suitcase and settled herself in the room, she reflected on the meeting in
Kasker's store which had led her to make this queer move.
"A fool for
luck, they say," she muttered. "I wonder what intuition induced m=
e to
interview Jake Kasker. The clothing merchant isn't a bad fellow," she
continued to herself, looking over the notes she had made on her tablets.
"He didn't make a single disloyal speech. Hates the war, and I can't b=
lame
him for that, but wants to fight it to a finish. Now, the other
man--Kauffman--hates the war, too, but he did not make any remark that was
especially objectionable; but that man's face betrayed more than his words,=
and
some of his words puzzled me. Kauffman said, at two different times, that t=
he
war would make him money. There's only one way a man like him can make money
out of the war, and that is--by serving the Kaiser. I suppose he thought we=
wouldn't
catch that idea, or he'd been more careful what he said. All criminals are
reckless in little ways; that's how they betray themselves and give us a ch=
ance
to catch them. However, I haven't caught this fellow yet, and he's tricky
enough to give me a long chase unless I act boldly and get my evidence befo=
re
he suspects I'm on his trail. That must be my programme--to act quickly and
lose no time."
Kauffman saw her =
when
she entered the hotel dining room for dinner that evening, and he walked
straight over to her table and sat down opposite her.
"Met
again!" he said with his broad smile. "You selling something?&quo=
t;
"Brains,&quo=
t;
returned Josie composedly.
"Good! Did J=
ake
Kasker buy any of you?" =
"I've all my
stock on hand, sir. I'm a newspaper woman--special writer or advertising
expert. Quit New York last week and came on here."
"Wasn't New =
York
good enough for you?" he asked, after ordering his dinner of the waitr=
ess.
"I'm too
independent to suit the metropolitan journals. I couldn't endorse their gum=
shoe
policies. For instance, they wanted me to eulogize President Wilson and his
cabinet, rave over the beauties of the war and denounce any congressman or
private individual who dares think for himself," explained Josie, eati=
ng
her soup the while. "So--I'm looking for another job."
Kauffman maintain=
ed
silence, studying the bill-of-fare. When he was served he busied himself
eating, but between the slits of his half-closed eyes he regarded the girl
furtively from, time to time. His talkative mood had curiously evaporated. =
He
was thoughtful. Only when Josie was preparing to leave the table did he res=
ume
the conversation.
"What did you
think of Jake Kasker's kind of patriotism?" he asked.
"Oh; the
clothing man? I didn't pay much attention. Never met Kasker before, you kno=
w.
Isn't he like most of the rabble, thinking what he's told to think and sayi=
ng
what he's told to say?" =
She waited for a
reply, but none was forthcoming. Even this clever lead did not get a rise o=
ut
of Abe Kauffman. Indeed, he seemed to suspect a trap, for when she rose and
walked out of the dining room she noticed that his smile had grown ironical=
.
On reaching her r=
oom
through the dimly lighted passage, Josie refrained from turning on her own
lights, but she threw open her one little window and leaned out. The window
faced a narrow, unlighted alley at the rear of the hotel. One window of Room
45, next to her, opened on an iron fire-escape that reached to within a few
feet of the ground. Josie smiled, withdrew her head and sat in the dark of =
her
room for hours, with a patience possible only through long training.
At ten o'clock
Kauffman entered his room. She could distinctly hear him moving about. A li=
ttle
later he went away, walking boldly down the corridor to the elevator.
Josie rose and
slipped on her hat and coat. =
Leaving the hotel,
Kauffman made his way down the street to Broadway, Dorfield's main
thoroughfare. He wore a soft hat and carried a cane. The few people he pass=
ed
paid no attention to him. Steadily proceeding, he left the business district
and after a while turned abruptly to the right.
This was one of t=
he
principal residence sections of the city. Kauffman turned the various corne=
rs
with a confidence that denoted his perfect acquaintance with the route. But
presently his pace slowed and he came to a halt opposite an imposing mansion
set far back in ample grounds, beautifully cared for and filled with rare
shrubbery.
Only for a moment,
however, did the man hesitate--just long enough to cast a glance up and down
the deserted street, which was fairly well lighted. No one being in sight, =
he
stepped from the sidewalk to the lawn, and keeping the grass under his feet,
noiselessly made his way through the shrubbery to the south side of the
residence. Here a conservatory formed a wing which jutted into the grounds.=
The German softly
approached, mounted the three steps leading to a glass door, and rapped upon
the sash in a peculiar manner. Almost immediately the door was opened by a
woman, who beckoned him in. The conservatory was unlighted save by a mellow
drift that filtered through the plants from a doorway beyond, leading to the
main house.
From behind the
concealment of a thick bush Josie O'Gorman had noted the woman's form but w=
as
unable to see her face. The girl happened to know the house, however. It was
the residence of Dorfield's social leader, Mrs. Charleworth.
Josie squatted be=
hind
that bush for nearly half an hour. Then the glass door opened and Kauffman
stepped out.
"By the
way," he said in a low voice, "it's just as well we didn't take K=
asker
in with us. He's a loud-mouthed fool. I've tested him and find he blats out
everything he knows."
"We do not n=
eed
him, since I've decided to finance the affair," returned the woman, and
Josie recognized her voice. It was the great Mrs. Charleworth herself. Mrs.
Charleworth, in secret conference with Abe Kauffman, the suspender salesman=
!
Then Josie
experienced another surprise. A second man stepped through the shadowy door=
way,
joining Kauffman on the steps.
"It seems to
me," said this last person, "that there is danger in numbers. Of
course, that's your affair, Kauffman, and none of my business, but if I'm to
help you pull it off, I'd rather there wouldn't be too many of us. It's a
ticklish thing, at the best, and--"&n=
bsp;
"Shut up!&qu=
ot;
growled Kauffman, suspiciously peering around him into the darkness. "=
The
less we talk in the open, the better."
"That is tru=
e.
Good night," said the woman, and went in, closing the door behind her.=
"I think I w=
ill
light a cigar," said Kauffman.
"Wait until =
you
are in the street," cautioned the other.
They walked on the
grass, avoiding the paths and keeping in the darkest places. Finally they
emerged upon the sidewalk, and finding the coast clear, traveled on side by
side.
At times they
conversed in low tones, so low that the little red-headed girl, dodging thr=
ough
the parkings in their wake, could not overhear the words they spoke. But as
they approached the more frequented part of the town, they separated, Kauff=
man
turning into Broadway and the other continuing along a side street.
Josie O'Gorman
followed the latter person. He was tall and thin and stooped a trifle. She =
had
been unable, so far, to see his face. He seemed, from the turnings he made,=
to
be skirting the business section rather than pass directly through it. So t=
he
girl took a chance, darted down one street and around the corner of another,
and then slipped into a dim doorway near which hung an electric street-ligh=
t.
She listened eage=
rly
and soon was rewarded by a sound of footsteps. The man she was shadowing
leisurely approached, passed under the light and continued on his way, fail=
ing
to note the motionless form of the girl in the doorway.
Josie gave a litt=
le
laugh.
"You're a
puzzling proposition, Professor," she whispered to herself, "and =
you
came near fooling me very properly. For I imagined you were on your way to
Washington, and here you've mixed up with another important job!"
When Josie reached
the hotel it was nearly midnight. Half the lights in the office had been
extinguished and behind the desk, reading a novel, the night clerk sprawled=
in
an easy chair.
She hadn't seen t=
he
night clerk before. He was a sallow-faced boy, scarcely twenty years old,
attired in a very striking suit of clothes and wearing a gorgeous jewelled
scarf-pin in his cravat. As he read, he smoked a cigarette.
"Hello,"
said this brilliant individual, as Josie leaned over the counter and regard=
ed
him with a faint smile. "You're No. 43, I guess, and it's lucky old Bo=
yle
ain't here to read you a lecture--or to turn you out. He won't stand for
unmarried lady guests bein' out till this hour, an' you may as well know it
first as last."
"He's quite
right," was Josie's calm reply. "I'll not do it again. My key,
please!"
He rose reluctant=
ly
and gave her the key.
"Do you sit =
up
all night?" she asked sweetly.
"I'm s'posed
to," he answered in a tone less gruff, "but towards mornin' I sno=
oze
a little. Only way to pass the time, with noth'n' to do an' nobody to talk =
to.
It's a beastly job, at the best, an' I'm goin' to quit it."
"Why don't y=
ou
start a hotel of your own?" she suggested.
"You think
you're kiddin' me, don't you? But I might even do that, if I wanted to,&quo=
t;
he asserted, glaring at her as if he challenged contradiction. "It ain=
't
money that stops me, but hotel keepin' is a dog's life. I've made a bid for=
a
cigar-store down the street, an' if they take me up, somebody can have this
job."
"I see you're
ambitious," said Josie. "Well, I hope you get the cigar-store. Go=
od
night, Mr.--"
"My name's T=
om
Linnet. I won't tell the ol' boy you was out so late. So long."
The elevator had
stopped running, so Josie climbed the stairs and went thoughtfully to her r=
oom.
Kauffman had preceded her. She heard him drop his shoes heavily upon the fl=
oor
as he undressed.
She turned on the
light and made some notes on her tablets, using the same queer characters t=
hat
she always employed. The last note read: "Tom Linnet, night clerk at t=
he
Mansion House. New clothes; new jewelry. Has money. Recently acquired, for =
no
one with money would be a night clerk. Wants to quit his job and buy a cigar
store. Query: Who staked Tom? And why?"
As she crawled in=
to
bed Josie reflected: "Mary Louise would be astonished if she knew what=
I
have learned to-night. But then, I'm astonished myself. I feel like the boy=
who
went fishing for sunfish and caught a whale."
Next morning she =
was
up early, alert to continue her investigations. When she heard Mr. Kauffman=
go
down to breakfast she took a bunch of pass-keys from her bag, went boldly
through the hall to the door of 45, unlocked it with ease and walked in. A
hurried glance showed her a large suitcase lying open upon a table. She
examined its contents. One side was filled with samples of suspenders, the
other with miscellaneous articles of male apparel.
Josie was not
satisfied. She peered under the bed, softly opened all the drawers in the
dresser and finally entered the closet. Here, on the rear shelf, a newspaper
was placed in such manner as to hide from observation anything behind it. T=
o an
ordinary person, glancing toward it, the newspaper meant nothing; to Josie's
practised eye it was plainly a shield. Being short of stature, the girl had=
to
drag in a chair in order to reach the high shelf. She removed the newspaper,
took down a black hand-satchel--it was dreadfully heavy and she almost drop=
ped
it--and then replaced the paper as it had been before.
Josie was jubilan=
t.
She removed the chair, again closed the closet door, and leaving the room
practically as she had found it stole back to her own apartment, the heavy
satchel concealed in the folds of her frock. But no one saw her, the hall b=
eing
vacant, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she locked her own door against
possible intruders.
Then she placed t=
he
black satchel on a stand and bent over it. The lock was an unusual one. She
tried all the slender keys upon her bunch without effect--they were either =
too
large or did not fit the keyhole. Next she took a thin hairpin, bent and
twisted it this way and that and tried to pry the lock open. Failure. Howev=
er,
she was beginning to understand the mechanism of the lock by this time. From
that all-containing handbag which was her inseparable companion she drew ou=
t a
file, and taking one of the master-keys, began to file it to fit the lock of
the black satchel.
This operation
consumed more time than she was aware, so interesting was the intricate wor=
k.
She was presently startled by a sound in the corridor. Mr. Kauffman was com=
ing
back to his room, whistling an aria from "Die Walkure." Josie pau=
sed,
motionless; her heart almost stopped beating.
The man unlocked =
his
door and entered, still whistling. Sometimes the whistle was soft and low,
again it was louder and more cheerful. Josie listened in suspense. As long =
as
the whistling continued she realized that the theft of the black satchel
remained undiscovered.
Kauffman remained=
in
his room but a few moments. When he departed, carefully locking his door af=
ter
him, he was still whistling. Josie ran to her own door and when he had pass=
ed
it opened it just a crack, to enable her to gaze after him. Underneath his =
arm
he carried a bundle of the sample suspenders.
"Good!"=
she
whispered softly, retreating to bend over the satchel again. "Mr. Abe
Kauffman will sell suspenders this morning as a blind to his more important
industries, so I needn't hurry."
Sooner than she
expected the lock clicked and sprang open. Her eyes at first fell upon some
crumpled, soiled shirts, but these she hurriedly removed. The remainder of =
the
satchel contained something enclosed in a green flannel bag. It was heavy, =
as
she found when she tried to lift it out, and a sudden suspicion led her to
handle the thing very gingerly. She put it on the table beside the satchel =
and
cautiously untied the drawstring at the mouth of the bag. A moment later she
had uncovered a round ball of polished blue steel, to which was attached a =
tube
covered with woven white cotton.
Josie fell back o=
n a
chair, fairly gasping, and stared with big eyes at the ball. In her desire =
to
investigate the possessions of the suspender salesman she had scarcely expe=
cted
to find anything like this. The most she had hoped to discover were
incriminating papers.
"It's a
bomb!" she stammered, regarding the thing fearfully; "a real, hon=
est-for-true
bomb. And it is meant to carry death and destruction to loyal supporters of=
our
government. There's no doubt of that. But--" The thoughts that followe=
d so
amazing an assertion were too bewildering to be readily classified. They
involved a long string of conjectures, implicating in their wide ramificati=
ons
several persons of important standing in the community. The mere suggestion=
of
what she had uncovered sufficed to fill Josie's heart and brain with terror=
.
"Here! I mus=
tn't
try to think it out just yet," she told herself, trying with a little
shiver of repulsion for the thing to collect her wits. "One idea at a
time, Josie, my girl, or you'll go nutty and spoil everything! Now, here's a
bomb--a live, death-dealing bomb--and that's the first and only thing to be
considered at present." =
Controlling her
aversion and fear, the girl turned the bomb over and over, giving it a thor=
ough
examination. She had never seen such a thing before, but they had often been
explained to her and she had an inkling as to the general method of their
construction. This one before her was of beautiful workmanship, its surface=
as
carefully turned and polished as if it had been intended for public exhibit=
ion.
Grooves had been cut in the outer surface and within these grooves lay the
coils of the time fuse, which was marked with black ink into regular sectio=
ns.
The first section from the end of the fuse was marked "6;" the ne=
xt
section "5" and so on down to the section nearest the bomb, which=
was
divided by the marks "1"--"1/2"--"1/4."
"I see,"
said Josie, nodding her head with intelligent perception. "Each sectio=
n,
when lighted, will burn for one hour, running along its groove but harmless
until the end of the fuse is reached. If the entire fuse is lighted, it will
require just six hours to explode the bomb, while if it is cut off to the l=
ast
mark and then lighted, the bomb will explode in fifteen minutes. The operat=
or
can set it to suit himself, as circumstances require."
The manner in whi=
ch
the fuse was attached to the bomb was simple. The hole made in the bomb was
exactly the size of the fuse inserted into it. There were two little knobs,=
one
on each side the hole. After pushing the fuse into the hole a fine wire was
wound around it and attached to the tiny knobs, thus holding it firmly in
place.
Josie took a pair=
of
small pincers, unwound the wire and cautiously withdrew the fuse from the h=
ole.
Examining the end of the fuse she saw it was filled with a powdery substance
which, when ignited, would explode the bomb. She had recourse to her hairpin
again and carefully picked the powder out of the fuse for the distance of t=
he
entire first section. This proved difficult and painstaking work, but when
completed not a grain of the powder remained in the woven cotton casing for=
the
distance of six inches from the end.
Having accomplish=
ed
that much, Josie sat looking at the thing in a speculative way. She could n=
ot
have told you, at the moment, why her first act had been to render the bomb
impotent in so queer a manner when she could have simply destroyed the enti=
re
fuse. But, of course, no one would try to use the fiendish contrivance unle=
ss
it was supplied with a fuse. =
After a period of
thought the girl decided what to do next. She removed the bomb, fuse, green
bag--even the satchel--to the big lower drawer of her bureau, and turned the
lock.
"No one is
likely to come in but the chambermaid, and she will be too busy to disturb
anything," Josie decided; and then she locked her room door and went d=
own
stairs to breakfast.
Josie was late. In
the breakfast room she found but one guest besides herself, an old lady wit=
h a
putty face. But there was also a young girl seated at a near-by table who w=
as
grumbling and complaining to the maid who waited upon her.
"It ain't my
fault, Miss Annie," protested the maid. "The cook says you ordered
your breakfast half an hour ago, an' then went away. We tried to keep it hot
for you, and if it's cold it's your own fault."
"I was talki=
ng
with Mr. Kauffman," pouted the girl, who seemed a mere child. "I'=
ve a
good notion to order another breakfast."
"If you do, =
cook
will tell your father." =
This threat seemed
effective. The girl, with a sour face, began eating, and the maid came over=
to
take Josie's order. The tables were near enough for conversation, so when t=
he
maid had gone to the kitchen Josie said sweetly:
"That Mr.
Kauffman's a nice man, isn't he? I don't wonder you forgot your breakfast.
Isn't this Miss Annie Boyle?" <=
/span>
"Yes," =
was
the answer. "Do you know Abe Kauffman?"
"I've met
him," said Josie.
"He an' Pa u=
sed
to be good friends," said Annie Boyle, who did not seem at all shy in
conversing with strangers, "but Pa's soured on him lately. I don't know
why. P'raps because Abe is a German, an' everybody's tryin' to fling mud at=
the
Germans. But Abe says the German-Americans are the back-bone of this countr=
y,
and as good citizens as any." <=
/span>
"He don't se=
em
to like the war, though," remarked Josie carelessly.
"Well, do you
know why? Abe's had two brothers and five cousins in the German army, and a=
ll
of 'em's been killed. That's why he's sore on the war. Says his brothers
deserved what they got for not comin' to America an' bein' American citizen=
s,
like Abe is. But I know he's dreadful sorry 'bout their bein' killed just t=
he
same. German folks seem to think a good, deal of their families, an' so jes=
t to
mention the war makes Abe rave an' swear."
"That's
foolish," said Josie. "He'll get himself into trouble."
"Abe's no fo=
ol;
he knows how far he can go, an' when to stop talkin'. He'll cuss the war, b=
ut
you never hear him cuss'n' the United States. He told me, just a while ago,
that the war'll make him rich, 'cause he's smart enough to use it for his o=
wn
good. But he said I mustn't talk about that," she added, with a sudden
realization that Josie was regarding her curiously. "Abe an' me's chum=
s,
an' what he says is between us. P'raps he was only jokin', 'bout gettin' ri=
ch.
Abe's a great joker, anyhow." <=
/span>
That this was a
rather lame retraction was apparent even to Annie Boyle. She gave Josie a
suspicious look, but Josie's face was absolutely expressionless. The maid w=
as
placing her order before her and she calmly began her breakfast. A moment
later, the old lady rose and tottered out of the room.
"Gee! I wish=
I
had her money," remarked Annie Boyle, looking after her. "She's g=
ot a
wad of stocks an' just has to cut coupons off 'em. Lives here easy an' don't
worry. If I had her dough I'd--" She stopped suddenly.
"Money's a g=
ood
thing to have," said Josie. "There's Tom Linnet, now; he's going =
to
buy a cigar store."
"How'd you
know?" asked Annie quickly.
"Why, he told
me."
"Oh; are you=
an'
Tom friends?"
"We're not
enemies. Tom's in luck to have so much money."
"Wall,"
said Annie, "he's a fool to flash it all of a sudden. Pa took him for
night clerk when he didn't have a cent--and it wasn't so long ago, either. =
He
gets his board an' five dollars a week. Folks are goin' to wonder where he =
got
all his fine clothes, an' them di'monds, an' how he can afford to buy Barke=
r's
cigar store. I asked Abe about it an' Abe says he guesses Tom got the money
from an aunt that jus' died." <=
/span>
"Perhaps he
did."
"Well, where=
'd
he get the aunt? Tom's got two brothers that are peddlers an' a father who'=
s a
track-walker, an' he's got a mother what takes in washin'. If there's an au=
nt,
she's some relation to the rest of the family, so why didn't she leave them
some money, as well as Tom?" =
span>
"I don't kno=
w,
but I'm glad Tom is so well fixed," answered Josie, rather absently, f=
or
her eye had fallen on the menu card beside her plate, and the menu card had
somehow conveyed a new thought to her mind. She picked it up and examined it
critically. Part of it was printed in a queer, open-faced type--all
capitals--while the balance of the list of dishes had been written in with =
pen
and ink. These printed bills would do for a good many breakfasts, for they
mentioned only the staples, while the supplementary dishes were day by day
added in writing.
"I wonder who
prints your bills-of-fare?" she said to Annie Boyle.
"Why do you
wonder that?" demanded Annie. <=
/span>
"I like the
type, and I want to get some cards printed from it."
"We print our
own bills," said the child. "There's a press an' type an' the fix=
ings
in a room in the basement, an' Tom Linnet used to print a new card every day
for all the three meals. He did it at night, you know, between two an' six
o'clock, when nobody's ever around the hotel. They was swell bills-of-fare,=
but
Tom claimed he couldn't do so much printin', although that's part o' the ni=
ght
clerk's duty, an' Pa thought it used up too much good cardboard at war-time
prices. So now we jus' get out a new bill once a week, an' write the extry
dishes on it."
"That does v=
ery
well," said Josie. "Does Tom still do the printing?"
"Yes. Pa hir=
ed
him as night clerk 'cause he'd worked in a printin' office an' could do
printin'. But since Tom got rich he don't like to work, an the bills ain't
printed as good as they used to be."&=
nbsp;
"This looks
pretty good to me," said Josie, eyeing it approvingly.
"I guess, if=
Tom
wasn't goin' to leave, Pa would fire him," asserted Annie, rising from=
the
table. "Good mornin', miss; I'll see you again, if you're stoppin'
here."
After she had gon=
e,
Josie finished her breakfast thoughtfully. Three distinct facts she had gle=
aned
from Annie Boyle's careless remarks. First, Tom Linnet had acquired sudden
riches. Second, the type used on the hotel menu cards was identically the s=
ame
that the disloyal circulars had been printed from. Third, between the hours=
of
two and five in the mornings, the night clerk's duties permitted him to be =
absent
from the hotel office.
Josie decided that
Annie Boyle had not been admitted to the inner confidences of the conspirat=
ors,
and that Tom Linnet was their tool and had been richly paid for whatever
services he had performed. She was now gathering "clues" so fast =
that
it made her head swim. "That chance meeting with Kauffman, at
Kasker's," she told herself, "led me directly into the nest of
traitors. I'm in luck. Not that I'm especially clever, but because they're =
so
astonishingly reckless. That's usually the way with criminals; they close e=
very
loop-hole but the easiest one to peep through--and then imagine they're safe
from discovery!"
After breakfast J= osie sallied out upon the street and found a hardware store. There, after some exploration, she purchased an asbestos table-mat. With this she returned to= her room and locked herself in. <= o:p>
The chambermaid h=
ad
"been and gone," but Josie's drawer was still locked and its prec=
ious
contents intact. The girl scraped the surface of the table-mat with her
pen-knife until she had secured enough loose fibre to serve her purpose and
then she proceeded to restuff the fuse with the asbestos fibre the entire
length of the section from which she had removed the powder. Then she pushed
the end of the fuse into the hole in the bomb, wired it as before, and repl=
aced
the long fuse in its grooves.
"Now," =
said
Josie, surveying her work with satisfaction, "if they light that fuse,=
and
expect it to explode the bomb in an hour or more, they'll be badly fooled.
Also, I shall have prevented another catastrophe like the explosion at the
airplane factory."
She replaced the =
bomb
in its bag, placed the bag in the black satchel, tucked in the soiled shirt=
s to
cover it and with her improvised key managed to relock the satchel. Watching
for a time when the corridor was vacant, she went to 45, entered the room a=
nd
replaced the satchel on its shelf, taking care to arrange the newspaper bef=
ore
it as a mask.
She had taken the
chair from the closet and was about to leave the room when she heard footst=
eps
coming down the hallway, accompanied by a whistle which she promptly
recognized.
"Caught!&quo=
t;
she exclaimed, and gave a hurried glance around her. To hide within the room
was impossible, but the window was open and the iron fire-escape within easy
reach. In an instant she had mounted it and seizing the rounds of the iron
ladder climbed upward until she had nearly reached the next window directly
above, on the third floor. Then she paused, clinging, to get her breath.
Kauffman was anno=
yed
to find the door of his room unlocked. He paused a moment in the middle of =
the
room and looked around him. "Confound that chambermaid!" Josie he=
ard
him mutter, and then he opened the closet door and looked in. Apparently
reassured, he approached the open window, stuck out his head and looked down
the fire-escape. Josie's heart gave a bound; but Kauffman didn't look upwar=
d.
He drew in his head, resumed his whistling and busied himself repacking the
sample suspenders in his suitcase. <=
/span>
Josie hoped he wo=
uld
soon go out again, but he seemed to have no intention of doing so. So she
climbed her ladder until she could look into the window above, which was al=
so
open. The old lady she had seen at breakfast was lying upon the bed, her ey=
es
closed. Josie wondered if she was asleep. The door leading from the room to=
the
hallway also stood open. The weather was warm, and the old lady evidently
wanted plenty of air.
While Josie hesit=
ated
what to do a boy came up the alley, noticed her on the fire-escape and paus=
ed
to look at her in astonishment. The girl couldn't blame him for being
interested, for her attitude was certainly extraordinary. Others were likel=
y to
discover her, too, and might suspect her of burglary and raise a hue and cr=
y.
So she deliberately entered the room, tiptoed across to the hall and escaped
without arousing the old lady. But it was a desperate chance and she breath=
ed easier
when she had found the stairs and descended to her own floor. Safe in her o=
wn
room she gave a little laugh at her recent predicament and then sat down to
note her latest discoveries on her tablets.
Josie O'Gorman was
very particular in this regard. Details seemingly of trifling moment but wh=
ich
may prove important are likely to escape one's memory. Her habit was to note
every point of progress in a case and often review every point from the
beginning, fitting them into their proper places and giving each its due
importance. A digest of such information enabled her to proceed to the next
logical step in her investigation. <=
/span>
"These items=
all
dovetail very nicely," she decided, with a satisfied nod at the quaint
characters on the tablets--which all the world might read and be no wiser.
"I must, however, satisfy myself that Tom Linnet actually printed those
circulars. The evidence at hand indicates that he did, but I want positive
proof. Also, I'd like to know which one of the gang employed him--and paid =
him
so liberally. However, that suggestion opens up a new line of conjecture; I
don't believe Tom Linnet got all his wealth merely for printing a few circu=
lars,
helping to address them, and keeping his mouth shut. But--what else has he =
been
paid for?"
She brooded on th=
is
for a while and then determined to take one thing at a time and follow it t=
o a
conclusion. So she once more quitted her room and descended by the
elevator--openly, this time--to the office. It was now noon and the hotel
office was filled with guests, and the clerks and bellboys were all busily
occupied. Josie wandered carelessly around until she found the stairway lea=
ding
to the basement. Watching her opportunity she slipped down the stairs.
The basement was =
not
as barren as she expected to find it. There was an open central space, on o=
ne
side of which were rooms for the barber shop, baths, and a pool room, all m=
ore
or less occupied by guests and attendants. On the opposite side, at the rea=
r,
were baggage and storerooms. Just beside her she noted a boot-black's stand,
where a colored boy listlessly waited for customers.
"Shine,
miss?" he inquired.
"No," s=
aid
Josie in a businesslike tone; "I'm looking for the printing office.&qu=
ot;
"Secon' door,
miss," indicating it with a gesture; "but dey ain't nobody dere. =
De
room's mos'ly kep' locked."
"I know,&quo=
t;
said Josie, and advancing to the door drew out her keys.
Her very boldness
disarmed suspicion; the boy was not sufficiently interested to watch her, f=
or a
man came out of the barber-shop and seated himself in the boot-black's chai=
r.
This sort of lock
didn't phase Josie at all. At the second trial she opened the door, walked =
in
and closed the door behind her.
It was a small ro=
om,
dimly lighted and very disorderly. Scraps of paper were strewn around the
floor. Dust had settled on the ink-rollers of the foot-press. A single case=
of
type stood on a rack and the form of a bill-of-fare--partly "pied"=
;--was
on a marble slab which formed the top of a small table. On an upturned soap=
-box
was a pile of unprinted menu cards. Josie noted a few cans of ink, a bottle=
of
benzine, and a few printing tools lying carelessly about, but the room
contained nothing more.
Having "sized
up" Tom Linnet's printing room with one swift glance, the girl stooped
down and began searching among the scraps that littered the floor. They were
mostly torn bits of cardboard or crumpled papers on which trial impressions=
had
been made.
Josie expected
momentarily to be interrupted, so she conducted her search as rapidly as was
consistent with thoroughness. She paid no attention to the card scraps but =
all
papers she smoothed out, one by one. Finally, with a little cry of triumph,=
she
thrust one of these into her handbag. She made this discovery just back of =
the
press, and glancing up, she noted a hook that had formerly been hidden from=
her
view, on which were impaled a number of papers--the chef's "copy"
from which various bills had been printed. Running through these papers she=
suddenly
paused, pulled one away from the hook and tucked it into her bag.
She was fairly
satisfied, now, but still continued her search amongst the litter. It was n=
ot
easy to decipher writing or printing in that dim light, but her eyes were g=
ood
and the longer she remained in the room the more distinctly she saw. There =
was
an electric globe suspended over the press, but she dared not turn on the l=
ight
for fear of attracting attention. Several scraps on which writing appeared =
she
secured without trying to read them, but presently she decided she had made=
as
thorough an examination of the place as was necessary.
She left the room,
locked the door again and boldly mounted the stairs to the office, meeting =
and passing
several men who scarcely noticed her. Then she took the elevator to her room
and washed her grimy hands and prepared for luncheon.
At the table she
slipped another of the printed bills into her bag, to use for comparison, a=
nd
afterward ate her lunch as calmly as if she were not inwardly elated at the
success of her morning's work. Josie felt, indeed, that she had secured the
proof necessary to confound the traitors and bring them to the bar of justi=
ce.
But there might be other interesting developments; her trap was still set.
"There's no hurry," she told herself. "Let's see this thing
through--to the end."
Indeed, on
reflection, she realized that several threads of evidence had not yet been
followed to their source. Some points of mystification still remained to be
cleared up. Her facts were mingled with theories, and she had been taught t=
hat
theories are mighty uncertain things.
On leaving the di=
ning
room, Josie got on her hat and jacket, went out to the street and caught an=
Oak
Avenue car.
"Oh,
Josie!" cried a well-known voice, and there sat Mary Louise, on her way
home from the Shop.
Josie gave her a
haughty look, walked straight to the far end of the car and sat down in a
vacant seat. The car was half filled with passengers.
Mary Louise pushed
forward and sat beside her friend. Josie stared straight ahead, stolidly.
"No one here
knows you," whispered Mary Louise, "won't you speak to me, Josie?=
"
No reply.
"Where are y=
ou
stopping? What are you doing? How are you getting along on the case?"
pleaded Mary Louise, so softly that no one else could overhear.
Josie maintained
silence. Her features were expressionless.=
"I know you =
told
me, in case we met, not to recognize you," continued Mary Louise,
"but I'm so anxious for news, dear! Can't you come home, to-night, and
have a good talk with me? You owe me that much consideration. Josie."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
The car stopped a=
t a
street intersection. Josie stood up.
"Not
to-night," she replied, and alighted from the car just as it started to
move again.
"Bother Mary
Louise!" she muttered, "she has made me walk three whole blocks.&=
quot;
Mary Louise was h=
uman
and she was provoked. There was really no need for Josie O'Gorman to be so
absurdly mysterious. Had she not known her so well, Mary Louise would have =
felt
that Josie had deliberately insulted her. As it was, she blamed her friend =
for
inexcusable affectation. "I'm not sure," she reflected, "tha=
t a
girl can be a detective--a regular detective--without spoiling her disposit=
ion
or losing to some an extent her maidenly modesty. Of course, Josie has been
brought up in an atmosphere of mystery and can't be blamed for her peculiar=
ities,
but---I'm glad I'm not a detective's daughter."
Josie, however,
wasn't worrying over any resentment her friend might feel at the necessary
snub. She was on a keen scent and already had forgotten her meeting with Ma=
ry
Louise. Three blocks farther on she turned into the walk leading to an old =
but
picturesque residence, at one time a "show place" of Dorfield and=
the
pride of the Dudley-Markhams, but now overshadowed by modern and more impos=
ing mansions.
Josie rang the
door-bell and presently the door was opened by a young and rather untidy ma=
id.
"I'd like to=
see
Professor Dyer," said Josie. =
span>
"He's gone to
Washington," was the reply.
"Indeed! Are=
you
quite sure?"
"Yes," =
said
the maid; and then Mrs. Dyer's head appeared in the opening and she gave Jo=
sie
a curious if comprehensive examination. Then:
"If you're f=
rom
one of the schools, I'm sorry to tell you that Professor Dyer went to
Washington by the early train this morning. I don't know how soon he will be
back. Professor Harrington of the High School is in charge. But perhaps it =
is
something I can do?"
"No, thank y=
ou;
I can wait," said Josie, and went away.
"So," s=
he
said to herself, as she made her way back to town in a street car, "if
Dyer has really gone to Washington, he hopes to get possession of the old d=
esk
and its hidden papers. Pretty important to him, those papers are, and I
wouldn't blame him for chasing them up. But--has he really gone? Mrs. Dyer
thinks so; but all evidence points to the fact that she's not in her husban=
d's
confidence. Now, if Dyer is on his way to Washington, what did last night's
secret meeting mean? His absence will complicate matters, I fear. Anyhow, I
must revise my conclusions a bit."&nb=
sp;
As she entered the
hotel Josie encountered Joe Langley, the one-armed soldier back from the wa=
r.
She had taken a great interest in this young fellow and admired his simple,=
manly
nature, having had several interesting conversations with him at the Liberty
Girls' Shop and at the drills. Josie felt she needed an ally at this junctu=
re,
and here was one who could be trusted.&nbs=
p;
"Joe," =
she
said earnestly, drawing him aside, "are you going to be busy this
evening?"
"Yes, Miss
O'Gorman, I'm busy every evening now," he replied. "I've taken a =
job,
you know, and my loafing days and social stunts are over. There wasn't any
bread-an'-butter in telling the society dames about my war experiences, so I
had to go to work. I'm night watchman at the steel works, and go on duty at
seven o'clock."
Josie was
disappointed. Looking at him musingly, she asked:
"Are they ma=
king
munitions now, at the steel works?"&n=
bsp;
"Of course; =
it's
practically under government control, they say, but is still operated by the
old company. They make shells for the big guns, you know, and they've ten
car-loads on hand, just now, ready to be shipped to-morrow."
Josie drew a long
breath. This was real news and her active mind jumped to a quick conclusion=
.
"Are the she=
lls
loaded, Joe?" she inquired.
"All ready f=
or
war," replied the soldier. "You see, a night watchman in such a p=
lace
has an important position. I guard those shells by night, and another man d=
oes
nothing but guard them by day."
"Where are t=
hey
stored?" was Josie's next question.&n=
bsp;
"In the room
just back of Mr. Colton's office--the big main building."
"So Mr. Colt=
on
is still the head of the company?"&nb=
sp;
"He's
Vice-President and General Manager, and he knows the steel and ammunition
business from A to Z," asserted Joe Langley. "Mr. Colton represen=
ts
the government as well as the steel works. The President is Mr. Jaswell, the
banker, but he doesn't do anything but attend the Board meetings."
"Joe," =
said
Josie impressively, "you know who I am, don't you?"
"Why, you're=
one
of the Liberty Girls, I guess."
"I'm from
Washington," she said. "My father, John O'Gorman, is one of the
government's secret service officers; I'm working on a case here in the int=
erests
of our government, and I may want you to help me foil a German spy plot.&qu=
ot;
"Count on
me!" said Sergeant Joe, emphatically. And then he added: "I'd lik=
e to
make sure, though, that you're really what you claim to be."
Josie opened her =
hand
bag and from a side pocket drew a silver badge engraved "U. S. Secret
Service. No. L2O1." That was her father's number and a complimentary
badge, but Joe was satisfied. He had to glance inside the handbag to see it,
for the girl dared not exhibit it more openly.
"If you want=
to
know more about me, ask Colonel Hathaway," continued Josie.
"No," s=
aid
Joe; "I believe you're on the square. But I'd never have suspected it =
of
you. Tell me what I'm to do." <=
/span>
"Nothing, at
present. But should a crisis arrive, stand by me and obey my
instructions."
"I'll do
that," promised the man.
When the girl had
regained her room in the hotel, she sat down with a businesslike air and wr=
ote
upon a sheet of paper, in her peculiar cypher, the story of her discoveries=
and
the conclusions they justified up to the present hour. This was to fix all
facts firmly in her mind and to enable her to judge their merits. The story=
was
concise enough, and perhaps Josie was quite unaware how much she had drawn =
upon
her imagination. It read this way: <=
/span>
"Disloyal circulars have been issued from time to time in Dorfield, designed to inter= fere with sales' of Liberty Bonds, to cause resentment at conscription and to ar= ouse antipathy for our stalwart allies, the English. These circulars were writte= n by John Dyer, superintendent of schools, who poses as a patriot. The circulars were printed in the basement of the Mansion House by Tom Linnet, a night cl= erk, who was well paid for his work. Papers found secreted in an old desk from t= he attic of Dyer's house prove that Dyer is in the pay of German agents in this coun= try and has received fabulous sums for his 'services,' said services not being specified in the documents. In addition to these payments, there were found= in the desk notes of the Imperial German Government, for large amounts, such n= otes to be paid 'after the war.' <= o:p>
"Dyer is cle=
arly
the head of the German spy plot in Dorfield, but the person who acts as med=
ium
between Dyer and the Master Spy is an alleged suspender salesman calling
himself Abe Kauffman. This Kauffman makes frequent trips to Dorfield, giving
orders to Dyer, and on one occasion Kauffman, who stops at the Mansion House
while in town, hired Tom Linnet to place a bomb in the Airplane Factory,
causing an explosion which destroyed many government airplanes and killed
several employees. The sum paid Linnet for this dastardly act has made him =
rich
and he has bought or is about to buy a cigar store. Kauffman now has another
bomb in his possession, doubtless brought here to be placed, when opportuni=
ty
arrives, to do the most possible damage. Indications are that he may attemp=
t to
blow up the steel works, where a large amount of shells are now completed a=
nd
ready for shipment to-morrow--meaning that the job must be done to-night, i=
f at
all. Perhaps Linnet will place the bomb; perhaps Kauffman will do it himsel=
f.
Dyer has lost his incriminating papers and notes and is on his way to
Washington in an endeavor to recover them.=
"Associated =
with
Dyer in his horrible activities is Mrs. Augusta Charleworth, occupying a hi=
gh
social position, but of German birth and therefore a German sympathizer. Sh=
e is
clever, and her brains supplement those of Dyer, who seems more shrewd than
initiative, being content to execute the orders of others. Dyer was educate=
d at
Heidelburg, in Germany, which accounts, perhaps, for his being pro-German,
although I suspect he is pro-anything that will pay him money. Dyer and the Hon. Andrew Duncan, w=
hile
political pals, are not connected in this spy plot, but I suspect that Peter
Boyle, the proprietor of the Mansion House may be one of the gang. I've no =
evidence
yet that implicates Boyle, but he harbors Kauffman as a guest and ought to =
know
that his night clerk is printing traitorous propaganda. So far, the evidence
incriminates Kauffman, Mrs. Charleworth, Dyer and Tom Linnet. I believe Mrs.
Dyer to be innocent of any knowledge of her husband's crimes; otherwise, she
would never have parted with that important desk--the desk that will prove =
his
ruin and ought to cost him his life.
"My plan is
this," concluded the notation, "to catch Kauffman or Linnet in the
act of placing the bomb to-night, make the arrest, round up the other guilty
ones and jail them, and then turn the case over to the federal officers for
prosecution. A telegram to Washington will secure Professor Dyer's arrest on
his arrival there."
Josie read this
through twice and nodded her red head with intense satisfaction.
"All clear as
crystal," she asserted gleefully. "I have proof of every statemen=
t,
and the finale can't go very wrong with such knowledge in my possession.
To-night, unless all signs fail, will prove a warm night-- warm enough to
scorch these dreadful, murderous tools of the Kaiser!"
And now Josie ski=
pped
over to the police station and had a somewhat lengthy conference with Chief
Farnum, who knew her father and treated the girl detective with professional
consideration. After this she hunted up the two government agents--old Jim
Crissey and young Norman Addison--who knew her well as "John O'Gorman's
clever kid, the pride of her doting Daddy." They listened to her with
interest and genuine respect for her talent and not only promised their
assistance whenever it might be needed but congratulated her warmly on her =
good
work.
This concluded
Josie's afternoon labors, and it was with a sense of triumphant elation that
she returned to her hotel to rest and prepare for the expected crisis.
Josie went to din=
ner
as soon as the dining room opened. When she came out she met Abe Kauffman g=
oing
in. He stopped and spoke to her.
"Sell any br=
ains
yet?" in a jocular way. =
"Not
to-day," she replied, with her innocent, baby-like stare.
"Well, I did=
n't
sell any suspenders, either. There are no spenders for suspenders. Ha, ha,
ha!"
"That doesn't
seem to worry you much," asserted Josie, pointedly.
He gave a shrug.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"Well, to-mo=
rrow
morning I leave by the 5:30 train east, so if I don't see you any more, I h=
ope
the brains will find a market."
"Thank
you."
She went on, glad=
to
escape the man. "He told me about leaving on the 5:30, and is probably
giving everyone else the same information, so he can't be connected with the
explosion," she reflected. "Clever Mr. Kauffman! But not clever
enough to realize he is near the end of his infamous career."
Josie's plans,
perfected during that afternoon, primarily involved the shadowing of Abe
Kauffman every moment, from now on. Abe Kauffman and his black satchel. For=
it
grew dark early at this time of year, and already the brief twilight was
fading. So the girl hastened to her room and exchanged her gray walking suit
for a darker one that was inconspicuous and allowed free movement. Then she
slipped her little pearl-mounted revolver--her father's gift--into her hand=
bag
and decided she was ready for any emergency.
Having extinguish=
ed
the light in her room, she glanced from the window into the alley below, wh=
ere
the shadows were now gathering deeply.&nbs=
p;
"I think
Kauffman will go down the fire-escape and drop into the alley," she mu=
sed;
"but he must first come to his room for the black satchel, in any even=
t,
and from that instant I must never lose sight of him."
Suddenly she
discovered a form pacing slowly up and down the otherwise deserted alley.
Fearful that other detectives were on the watch, and might disrupt her plan=
s,
she strained her eyes to discover this person's identity. There was but one
light to relieve the gloom, and that was far down the alley, a spot the pro=
wler
for some time avoided. Finally, however, he came to a point where the light=
touched
his face and Josie instantly recognized Tom Linnet.
"He is waiti=
ng
for someone," she decided, "and Kauffman is still at dinner--kill=
ing
time because it's yet too early to undertake his nefarious task. Tom Linnet=
may
be the tool he has selected, and I ought to get in touch with the boy, some=
how,
before he meets the arch conspirator. Kauffman is the one I prefer to
land."
With this in mind,
she hurried down, passed out at the front office doorway and turned into a
narrow drive at the south of the hotel, which led to the rear alley. A great
business block, now dark and deserted, loomed on the other side of the
driveway, which was used by the baggage and supply wagons in the daytime.
When the girl rea=
ched
the corner of the alley she found herself in very deep shadow; so she ventu=
red
to protrude her head far enough to look after Tom Linnet. To her surprise t=
he
party he had been waiting for had already joined him, for she discovered two
dusky forms pacing the alley.
It could not be
Kauffman. While she hesitated whether to steal closer or maintain her posit=
ion,
the two advanced almost to her corner and paused there--in the blackest spot
they could find.
"I tell you I
won't do it!" said Tom, in a hard, dogged tone that was tense with
excitement. "I'm through, and that's all there is to it."
"That's a
mistaken notion," was the quiet reply. "You're too deep in the pl=
ot
to draw back, and the pay is well worth while."
"I don't want
any more money," growled Tom. <=
/span>
"You'll get =
two
thousand for this night's work. Cash. And there is no risk; you know
that."
"Risk? God, =
man!
Can't you guess how I dream of those poor devils I sent to their death in t=
he
airplane job? I hate the money I got! I--I--"
"See here,&q=
uot;
said the other voice impatiently, "that was a mistake, and you know it=
. We
didn't intend murder, but the explosion was delayed. No one will get hurt
to-night."
"Not through
me," declared Tom.
"If you fail= us, you'll come to grief." <= o:p>
"If I come to
grief, so will you. Peach on me, and I'll blow the whole deal." There =
was
a moment's silence.
"Would three
thousand satisfy you?" demanded the tempter.
"No,"
asserted Tom stoutly; "I'm goin' to quit. What's done can't be undone,=
but
I'm through with you. It--it's too blamed terrible, that's what it is! Leav=
e me
alone an' let me turn honest. Why don't you do the job yourself?"
"I think I
will," said the other calmly. "If you intend to turn down a good
thing, I'll do my own work and save the money. But remember, Linnet, silenc=
e is
your only salvation. Don't talk at all; if you do, you're liable to say the
wrong thing--and you can't afford to do that."
"I'm no
fool," responded the night clerk, a shade of relief in his tone. "=
;But
don't come to me again, Professor. I'm done with you."
Professor! Josie =
felt
a distinct shock. She had to flatten herself against the wall, too, and rem=
ain
rigid, for the man abruptly turned the corner and marched down the driveway.
Half way to the brilliantly lighted street he dodged behind the building
opposite the hotel, threading his way through narrow back yards. Josie
followed, swift and silent. Finally they reached a place where the man was
forced to pass beneath the rays of a lamp and Josie was near enough to see =
his
face. It was, in reality, Professor John Dyer.
That assurance was
all the girl wanted, just now. She let him go his way and turned to regain =
the
hotel. It was not quite eight o'clock, yet she felt it important to keep an=
eye
on Kauffman and the bomb. The bomb, especially, for until Dyer took possess=
ion
of the infernal contrivance he could do no mischief.
In the hotel lobby
she entered a public telephone booth and called up Jim Crissey; then she we=
nt
straight to her room. She could hear a low whistling in 45, which informed =
her
that Kauffman had not yet gone out and that he was in a cheerful mood.
"I'm beginni=
ng
to understand their method of work," Josie reflected. "Kauffman
prepares the bombs, or brings them here under the guise of a suspender
salesman; Dyer arranges for their being placed, having secured information =
as
to where an explosion will do the most damage to the government, and Tom Li=
nnet
is used as the tool to do the actual work. Mrs. Charleworth probably assists
Dyer in getting special information, and advises the gang, but doesn't take=
an
active part in the perpetration of the crimes. Her brains and position would
naturally place her at the head of the conspirators in Dorfield, although I=
'm pretty
sure Kauffman, as the agent of the Master Spy, can dictate what they must
do."
Kauffman slammed =
his
door and locked it. He was going out. Josie opened her own door a crack to =
look
after him. He was walking deliberately down the corridor, openly carrying in
his left hand the black satchel.
To Josie this see=
med
the essence of effrontery. He had no intention of using the fire-escape, af=
ter
all. He trusted in bravado, as so many careless criminals do. As she stealt=
hily
followed him, she observed the man stop in the office and exchange commonpl=
aces
with one or two guests whom he knew.
In reality, this =
was
his safest plan. The black bag did not look suspicious. Presently the bomb
would be turned over to Dyer and Kauffman's responsibility would then end. =
His
very boldness was calculated to prevent suspicion.
Leaving the hotel,
Kauffman walked leisurely up the lighted street. Only when he turned a corn=
er
did Josie momentarily lose sight of him. There were many pedestrians at this
hour and they masked the girl's form and for a while enabled her to keep ne=
ar
to the man she was shadowing. The only thing that puzzled Josie was the fact
that Kauffman was proceeding in a direction exactly opposite that taken by =
Dyer
a short time before. Dyer went south and Kauffman was going north.
When the business
section of Dorfield was passed, the streets became more deserted. They were=
not
well lighted either, which favored Josie the more.
Kauffman kept
steadily on, and as the houses along the way thinned, Josie decided he was
headed directly for the steel works. That upset her calculations a bit, for=
she
knew he had not seen Dyer since the latter's interview with Tom Linnet, nor=
had
he seen Linnet; therefore he could not know that any arrangements he had
previously made with them had fallen through. The German's present actions,
however, indicated that he had decided to place the bomb himself, without t=
he assistance
of his fellow conspirators. Had he been warned of Linnet's defection? Had he
means of communicating with Dyer unknown to Josie? Dyer was a mystery; even=
his
wife believed he was now on his way to Washington.
Surprises, in Jos=
ie's
line of work were not uncommon, and this was no time to consider whys and
wherefores. The one thing she was sure of was that the bomb was in the black
satchel and the black satchel in Kauffman's hand. No matter where the other
conspirators might be or how they were implicated in tonight's plot, as lon=
g as
she kept her eye on the bomb, she would be able to control the situation.
From the edge of =
the
town to the steel works the road led through a common, overgrown with brush=
and
weeds. There was no moon and although the distance was not great it was a
lonely, dark and "creepy" place. As soon as the girl saw Kauffman
take the road to the works she decided to get there before he could do so.
Knowing well she could not be seen, she branched off through the brush, and
finding her way by instinct rather than sight, ran swiftly in a half circle
over the fields and struck the road again considerably in advance of the mo=
re
deliberate Kauffman.
She now set off at
her swiftest run and on reaching the manager's office, in the front of the =
main
building, perceived that it was lighted.&n=
bsp;
Josie rapped upon=
the
door and it was opened by one-armed Joe Langley, the night watchman.
"Quick!"
she said, "let me in and hide me somewhere, where I can't be seen.&quo=
t;
Joe pulled her in,
closed the outer door and locked it, and then faced her.
"What's
up?" he demanded.
"There's a m=
an
coming here with a bomb in a black satchel," she panted. "He inte=
nds
to blow up this building, in which all the shells axe stored. I want to cat=
ch
him in the act, Joe, and you must hide me somewhere."
Joe glanced around
with a puzzled look.
"Where?"=
; he
asked helplessly.
So Josie looked
around her, too. This end of the long building was partitioned off for offi=
ces,
as it fronted the town. The central section was a big space containing a ta=
ble,
benches, etc., while on either side were little glass rooms with partitions
between them reaching about seven feet in height, the ceiling being some tw=
elve
feet from the floor. The first room to the left of the entrance was marked =
"Manager"
on its glass door; the next office "Purchasing Agent," and the th=
ird
"Chief Engineer." On the right hand side, the corresponding offic=
es
were marked "Secretary," "Examiner," and
"Superintendent." All the office doors were locked except that of=
the
Purchasing Agent, which stood ajar. Josie sprang into that office and cast a
hurried glance around. The glass division between that and the manager's of=
fice
was "frosted" with white paint, but so carelessly done that she f=
ound
places where she could see through into the office of the manager. Also she
could see into the main, or reception room, even with her door closed.
While she examined
this place a knock came on the outer door--a loud, imperative knock.
"This will
do," whispered Josie to Joe. "Go an let him in, but don't let him
suspect I'm here."
Joe was not
quick-witted, but on the battlefields of France he had learned prompt obedi=
ence
to orders. Josie, as a government agent, was now his commander, so he merely
nodded to her as he walked over to unlock the outer door.
Kauffman stepped =
in,
satchel in hand.
"You're the
watchman, I suppose," he said cheerfully. "Is Mr. Colton here?&qu=
ot;
"No,"
answered Joe.
"I was to me=
et
him here at this time," said Kauffman.
"He said he'=
d be
back this evening," returned Joe, just recalling that fact, "but =
he
isn't here yet."
"All
right," said the man, "I'll wait."
He carefully plac=
ed
the satchel on the table and sat down on a bench. Joe regarded him
suspiciously, remembering the girl's warning, but said nothing more. Josie =
was
watching Kauffman from her retreat, but as her little office was dark and t=
he
German sat under a bright light it was impossible for him to know that his =
every
movement was under observation.
The minutes dragg=
ed.
A big clock on the wall ticked with an ominous sound. Kauffman drew out his
watch and compared it with the clock. He appeared to grow restless.
Josie's quick ears
caught the distant sound of a motor car coming down the road. Perhaps Kauff=
man
heard it also. He rose from his seat and going to the table unlocked the bl=
ack
satchel, pressed the top open and looked inside it. Still bending over the
satchel he placed a cigarette in his mouth, lighted a match and applied the
flame to his cigarette. His back was toward Josie but she comprehended
instantly the action.
"He has ligh=
ted
the fuse!" she murmured, triumphantly.
The motor car cam=
e to
a sudden halt outside the door, which Joe had left unlocked; but while the
German turned expectantly toward the door the maimed soldier, hearing Josie=
's
whisper, approached her little room and slightly opened her door.
"He has ligh=
ted
the fuse of the bomb," she said to him excitedly. "The bomb is in=
the
satchel!"
Joe turned quickl=
y to
the table. He dived into the bag with his one good hand, drew out the heavy
ball of steel and rushed with it to the door just as the manager, Mr. Colto=
n,
opened it and stepped in.
So swift were Joe=
's
actions that Kauffman had no time to interfere. Both he and the manager sta=
red
in amazement as Joe Langley rushed outside and with all his might hurled the
bomb far out upon the common.
"Confound
you!" cried Kauffman. "What did you do that for?"
"What is
it?" inquired the astonished manager.=
"A bomb!&quo=
t;
cried Josie, stepping from her retreat and confronting them. "A bomb w=
ith
the fuse lighted, and timed to blow up this building after you had gone awa=
y,
Mr. Colton. That man before you is a German spy, and I arrest him in the na=
me of
the law. Put up your hands, Abe Kauffman!"
The little revolv=
er
was in her hand, steadily covering him. Kauffman gave an amused laugh, but =
he
slowly raised his arms, as commanded.
"I don't qui=
te
understand," said the puzzled manager, looking from one to the other.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"Well, I bro=
ught
the new projectile, Colton, as I had agreed," answered the German, coo=
lly,
"but your quaint watchman has thrown it away. As for the girl," he
added, with a broad grin, "she has fooled me. She said she had brains,=
and
I find she was mistaken."
The manager turne=
d to
Josie.
"May I ask w=
ho
you are, Miss, and how you came to be in my office?"
"I am Josie
O'Gorman, an agent of the government secret service," she replied, not
quite truthfully. "I've been shadowing this man for some time. I tell =
you,
sir, he brought a bomb here, to destroy this building, and under pretense of
lighting, a cigarette he has just lighted the time fuse. The bomb was in th=
at
satchel, but--" she added impressively, "as a matter of fact the
thing was harmless, as I had already removed the powder from the fuse."=
;
Kauffman gave a l=
ow
whistle.
"How did you
manage that?" he asked curiously.&nbs=
p;
"Never mind
how," she retorted; "I did it."
Kauffman turned to
the manager.
"Will you pl=
ease
order your man to get the projectile?" he asked. "It is lucky for=
us
all that the thing isn't loaded, or there really would have been an
explosion." He now turned to Josie, with his hands still in the air, a=
nd
explained: "It is meant to explode through impact, and ordering it tos=
sed
out there was the most dangerous thing you could have done."
At the manager's
command Joe took an electric searchlight and went out to find the steel bal=
l.
"If you plea=
se,
miss," said Kauffman, "may I put down my arms? They are tired, an=
d I
assure you I will not try to escape."=
Josie lowered the
revolver. Her face was red. She was beginning to wonder if she had bungled =
the
case. A second thought, however--a thought of the papers she had found in t=
he
old desk--reassured her. She might have been wrong in some respects, but su=
rely
she was right in the main.
"This man,&q= uot; said Mr. Colton, pointing to Kauffman, "is known to me as a munition expert. He bears the endorsement of the Secretary of War and is the invento= r of the most effective shells we now manufacture. What you have mistaken for a = bomb is his latest design of projectile for an eight-inch gun. He had arranged to bring it here and explain to me its mechanism to-night, and also to submit a proposition giving our company the control of its manufacture. If you are a government agent, you surely understand that these arrangements must be conducted with great secrecy. If we purchase the right to make this project= ile, we must first induce the government to use it, by demonstrating its effecti= veness, and then secure our contracts. So your interference, at this time, is---ahem!--annoying." <= o:p>
Josie's face was a
little more red than before. A second motor car drew up at the door and to =
her
astonishment Mrs. Charleworth entered and greeted both the manager and Kauf=
fman
in her usual charming manner. Then she looked inquiringly at the girl.
"Pardon me,
madam," said Mr. Colton. "There has been a singular misunderstand=
ing,
it seems, and our friend here has been accused of being a German spy by this
young lady, who is a government detective-- or--or claims to be such. The
precious projectile, in which you are so deeply interested, has just been
tossed out upon the common, but Joe Langley is searching for it."
Mrs. Charleworth's
face wore an amused smile.
"We are so b=
eset
with spies, on every hand, that such an error is quite likely to occur,&quo=
t;
said she. "I recognize this young lady as a friend of the Hathaway fam=
ily,
and I have met her at the Liberty Girls' Shop, so she is doubtless sincere-=
-if
misled. Let us hope we can convince her-- Miss O'Gorman, isn't it?--that we=
are
wholly innocent of attempting to promote the Kaiser's interests."
Joe came in with =
the
steel ball, which he deposited upon the table. Then, at a nod from the mana=
ger,
the soldier took his searchlight and departed through the door leading to t=
he
big room in the rear. It was time to make his regular rounds of the works, =
and
perhaps Mr. Colton preferred no listeners to the conversation that might
follow.
"Perhaps,&qu=
ot;
said Josie, her voice trembling a little, "I have assumed too much, and
accused this man," pointing to Kauffman, "unjustly. I was trying =
to
serve my country. But I am somewhat confused, even yet, in regard to this
affair. Will you please tell me, Mrs. Charleworth, what connection you have
with Mr. Kauffman, or with his--projectile?"
"Very
gladly," said the lady, graciously. "I am a stockholder in this s=
teel
company--a rather important stockholder, I believe--and while I am not a me=
mber
of the board of directors, Mr. Colton represents my interests. Two years ag=
o we
bought the Kauffman shell, and paid liberally for it, but Mr. Kauffman
unfortunately invested his money in a transatlantic merchant ship which was
sunk, with its entire cargo, by a German submarine. Again penniless, he beg=
an
the manufacture of suspenders, in a small way, with money I loaned him, but=
was
not very successful. Then he conceived the idea of a new projectile, very e=
ffective
and quite different from others. He asked our company to finance him while =
he
was experimenting and perfecting the new projectile. The company couldn't
undertake to do that, but I personally financed Mr. Kauffman, having confid=
ence
in his ability. He has been six months getting the invention made, tested a=
nd
ready to submit to government experts, and up to the present it has cost a =
lot
of money. However, it is now considered perfect and Mr. Kauffman has brough=
t it
here to-night to exhibit and explain it to Mr. Colton. If Mr. Colton approv=
es
it from a manufacturing standpoint, our company will secure an option for t=
he
sole right to manufacture it."
"Mr. Kauffman
has been in Dorfield several days," said Josie. "Why did he not s=
how
you the projectile before?"
"I have been=
out
of town," explained the manager. "I returned this afternoon,
especially for this interview, and made the appointment for this evening. I=
am
a busy man--these are war times, you know--and I must make my evenings coun=
t as
well as my days."
Josie scented
ignominous defeat, but she had one more shot to fire.
"Mrs.
Charleworth," she stated, with a severe look, "John Dyer, the sch=
ool
superintendent, was at your house last night, in secret conference with Mr.
Kauffman and yourself." =
"Oh, so you =
are
aware of that interview?"
"Clever!&quo=
t;
said Kauffman, "I'd no idea I was being shadowed." Then the two
exchanged glances and smiled. "It seems impossible," continued th=
e man,
"to keep any little matter of business dark, these days, although the =
war
office insists on secrecy in regard to all munitions affairs and publicity
would surely ruin our chances of getting the new projectile accepted for
government use."
"I am awaiti=
ng
an explanation of that meeting," declared Josie sternly. "Perhaps=
you
do not realize how important it may be."
"Well,"
answered Mrs. Charleworth, a thoughtful expression crossing her pleasant fa=
ce,
"I see no objection to acquainting you with the object of that mysteri=
ous
meeting, although it involves confiding to you a bit of necessary diplomacy.
Mr. Colton will tell you that the Dorfield Steel Works will under no
circumstances purchase the right to manufacture the Kauffman projectile--or=
any
other article of munition-- until it is approved and adopted by the War
Department. That approval is not easily obtained, because the officials are
crowded with business and a certain amount of red tape must be encountered.
Experience has proved that the inventor is not the proper person to secure
government endorsement; he labors under a natural disadvantage. Neither is =
Mr. Colton,
as the prospective manufacturer, free from suspicion of selfish interest.
Therefore it seemed best to have the matter taken up with the proper
authorities and experts by someone not financially interested in the
projectile.
"Now, Profes=
sor
Dyer has a brother-in-law who is an important member of the munitions board,
under General Crozier, and we have induced the professor, after much urging=
, to
take our projectile to Washington, have it tested, and secure contracts for=
its
manufacture. If he succeeds, we are to pay liberally for his services. That=
was
how he came to be at our house last evening, when arrangements were finally=
made."
"Was such
secrecy necessary?" asked Josie suspiciously.
It was Kauffman w=
ho
answered this question, speaking with apparent good humor but with a tinge =
of
sarcasm in his voice: "My dear young lady, your own disposition to
secrecy--a quality quite necessary in a detective--should show you the
absurdity of your question. Can we be too careful in these days of espionag=
e?
No emissary of the Kaiser must know the construction of this wonderful
projectile; none should even know that it exists. Even should our government
refuse to adopt it; we must not let the Central Powers know of it. My own
negotiations with Mr. Colton and Mrs. Charleworth have been camouflaged by =
my
disguise as a suspender merchant. It was equally important that Mr. Dyer's =
connection
with us be wholly unsuspected. When the projectile is adopted, and these wo=
rks
are manufacturing it in quantities to help win the war, still no information
concerning it must be made public. You must realize that."
"That is all
true," agreed Mr. Colton. "These frank statements, miss, have only
been made to you because of your claim to being a government agent. If you =
fail
to substantiate that claim, we shall place you under arrest and turn you ov=
er
to the authorities, for our own protection."
"To be
sure," said Josie; "that will be your duty. I am the daughter of =
John
O'Gorman, one of the high officers of the United States Secret Service, who=
is
now in Europe in the interests of the government. I came to Dorfield to vis=
it
my friend, Mary Louise Burrows, as Mrs. Charleworth is aware, and while her=
e my
suspicions were aroused of the existence of a German spy plot. Therefore I =
set
to work to bring the criminals to justice."
"And, like t=
he
regulation detective, you have followed a false trail," commented
Kauffman, with his provoking smile.
"Not
altogether," retorted Josie. "I have already secured proof that w=
ill
convict two persons, at least. And I am amazed that you have intrusted your
secrets to that arch-traitor, Professor Dyer. Will you tell me, Mrs.
Charleworth, what you know about that man?"
Mrs. Charleworth
seemed astounded.
"Professor J=
ohn
Dyer is one of Dorfield's old residents, I believe," she answered slow=
ly,
as if carefully considering her words. "He is also the superintendent =
of
schools, and in that capacity seems highly respected. I have never heard
anything against the man, until now. His important public position should v=
ouch
for his integrity."
"Isn't his
position a political appointment?" inquired Josie.
The lady looked at
Mr. Colton. "Yes," said the manager. "It is true that John D=
yer
was active in politics long before he was made superintendent of schools. H=
owever,
he was an educator, as well as a politician, so it seems his appointment was
merited."
"How well do=
you
know him personally, madam?" asked the girl.
"Not very
well," she admitted. "We do not meet socially, so our acquaintance
until very recently was casual. But I have looked upon him as a man of
importance in the community. On learning that he had a relative on the
munitions board, I asked him to come, to my house, where I made him the
proposition to take our projectile to Washington and secure its adoption. I
offered liberal terms for such service, but at first the professor seemed n=
ot
interested. I arranged a second meeting, last evening, at which Mr. Kauffman
was present to explain technical details, and we soon persuaded Mr. Dyer to
undertake the commission. We felt that we could trust him implicity."<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
"When did he
intend to go to Washington?" was Josie's next question.
"On the 5:30,
to-morrow morning. After exhibiting the projectile to Mr. Colton and securi=
ng
the firm's option to manufacture it on a royalty basis, we are to take it t=
o my
house, where Mr. Dyer will receive it and obtain our final instructions.&qu=
ot;
"One question
more, if you please," said Josie. "What connection with your
enterprise has Tom Linnet?"
"Linnet? I do
not know such a person," declared Mrs. Charleworth.
"Who is
he?" asked the manager. =
"I know
him," said Kauffman. "He's the night clerk at the Mansion House w=
here
I stop. Sometimes I see him when I come in late. He's not of special accoun=
t;
he's weak, ignorant, and--"
A sharp report
interrupted him and alarmed them all.
Josie swung around
quickly, for the sound--she knew it was a revolver shot--came from the rear=
. As
Colton and Kauffman sprang to their feet and Mrs. Charleworth shrank back i=
n a
fright, the girl ran to the back door, opened it and started to make her way
through the huge, dark building beyond the partition. The manager followed =
in
her wake and as he passed through the door he turned a switch which flooded=
the
big store-room with light.
In the center of =
the
building were long, broad tables, used for packing. A few shells still rema=
ined
grouped here and there upon the boards. On either side the walls were lined
with tiers of boxes bound with steel bands and ready for shipment. No person
was visible in this room, but at the farther end an outer door stood ajar a=
nd
just outside it a motionless form was outlined.
Josie and Mr. Col=
ton,
approaching this outer door nearly at the same time, controlled their haste=
and
came to an abrupt halt. The upright figure was that of Sergeant Joe Langley=
and
the light from the room just reached a human form huddled upon the ground a=
few
feet distant. Joe had dropped his flashlight and in his one hand held a
revolver. Josie drew a long, shuddering breath. The manager took a step
forward, hesitated, and returned to his former position, his face deathly
white.
"What is it?
What's the matter?" called Kauffman, coming upon the scene panting for=
he
was too short and fat to run easily.
Joe turned and lo=
oked
at them as if waking from a trance. His stolid face took on a shamed
expression.
"Couldn't he=
lp
it, sir," he said to the manager. "I caught him in the act. It was
the flashlight that saved us. When it struck him he looked up and the bullet
hit him fair."
"Who is it, =
and
what was he doing?" asked Mr. Colton hoarsely.
"It's under =
him,
sir, and he was a-lighting of it."&nb=
sp;
As he spoke, Serg=
eant
Joe approached the form and with a shove of his foot pushed it over. It rol=
led
slightly, unbent, and now lay at full length, facing them. Josie picked up =
the
flashlight and turned it upon the face.&nb=
sp;
"Oh!" s=
he
cried aloud, and shivered anew, but was not surprised.
"I guess,&qu=
ot;
said Joe slowly, "they'll have to get another school superintendent.&q=
uot;
"But what's =
it
all about? What did he do?" demanded Kauffman excitedly.
Joe took the light
from Josie's hand and turned it upon a curious object that until now had be=
en
hidden by the dead man's body.
"It's a infe=
rnal
machine, sir, an' I ain't sure, even yet, that it won't go off an' blow us =
all
up. He was leanin' down an' bendin' over it, twisting that dial you see, wh=
en
on a sudden I spotted him. I didn't stop to think. My Cap'n used to say 'Act
first an' think afterwards,' an' that's what I did. I didn't know till now =
it
was the school boss, but it wouldn't have made any difference. I done my du=
ty as
I saw it, an' I hope I did it right, Mr. Colton."
Kauffman was alre=
ady
stooping over the machine, examining it with a skilled mechanical eye.
"It's
ticking!" he said, and began turning the dial backward to zero. The
ticking stopped. Then the inventor stood, up and with his handkerchief wiped
the perspiration from his face.
"Gott!"=
he
exclaimed, "this is no joke. We've all been too near death to feel
comfortable."
"This is
horrible!" said Mr. Colton, "I can't yet believe that Dyer could =
be
guilty of so fiendish an act."
"I can,"
asserted Josie grimly, "and it isn't the first time he has planned mur=
der,
either. Dyer was responsible for the explosion at the airplane factory.&quo=
t;
Footsteps were he=
ard.
Out of the darkness between the group of buildings appeared two men, Crissey
and Addison.
"Are we too
late, Miss O'Gorman?" asked Crissey.&=
nbsp;
"Yes," =
she
replied. "How did you lose track of Dyer?"
"He's a slip= pery fellow," said Addison, "and threw us off the scent. But finally we traced him here and--" <= o:p>
"And there he
is," concluded Josie in a reproachful tone.
Crissey caught si=
ght
of the machine.
"Great
Caesar!" he exclaimed, "who saved you?"
"I did,"
answered Joe, putting the revolver in his hip pocket, "but I wish you'd
had the job, stranger." =
Mrs. Charleworth
drove Josie, who was sobbing nervously and quite bereft of her usual
self-command, to Colonel Hathaway's residence. The woman was unnerved, too,=
and
had little to say on the journey. =
span>
The old colonel h=
ad
retired, but Mary Louise was still up, reading a book, and she was shocked =
when
Josie came running in and threw herself into her friend's arms, crying and
laughing by turns, hysterically.
"What's the
matter, dear?" asked Mary Louise in an anxious voice.
"I've
b-b-bungled that whole miserable G-Ger-man spy plot!" wailed Josie.
"Wasn't there
any plot, then?"
"Of course; =
but
I g-grabbed the wrong end of it. Oh, I'm so glad Daddy wasn't here to see my
humiliation! I'm a dub, Mary Louise--a miserable, ignorant, foozle-brained
dub!"
"Never mind,
dear," said Mary Louise consolingly. "No one can know everything,
Josie, even at our age. Now sit down and wipe that wet off your face and te=
ll me
all about it."
Josie complied. S=
he
snivelled a little as she began her story, but soon became more calm. Indee=
d,
in her relation she tried to place the facts in such order that she might
herself find excuse for her erroneous theories, as well as prove to Mary Lo=
uise
that her suspicions of Abe Kauffman and Mrs. Charleworth were well founded.=
"No girl is
supposed to know the difference between a bomb and a cannon-ball--or
projectile--or whatever it is," was her friend's comment, when Josie h=
ad
reached the scene in the manager's office, "and any man who is a German
and acts queerly is surely open to suspicion. Go on, Josie; what happened
next?"
Even Mary Louise =
was
startled and horrified at the terrible retribution that had overtaken Profe=
ssor
Dyer, although Josie's story had aroused her indignation toward him and
prepared her for the man's final infamous attempt to wreck the steel plant.=
"And what ab=
out
Tom Linnet?" she asked. =
"Chief Farnu=
m is
to arrest him to-night," said Josie. "He will confess everything,=
of
course, and then the whole plot will be made public."
"Poor Mrs.
Dyer!" sighed Mary Louise.
But fate decreed a
different ending to the night's tragedy. When the police tried to arrest Tom
Linnet the young man was not to be found. He had not bought the cigar store,
but with what funds remained to him, he had absconded to parts unknown.
Chief Farnum wired
his description to all parts of the country. Meantime, on the morning after=
the
affair at the steel works, an earnest conference was held between Mr. Colto=
n,
Colonel Hathaway, Josie O'Gorman, Mrs. Charleworth, the Chief of Police and=
the
two secret service agents. At this conference it was deemed inadvisable to =
acquaint
the public with the truth about John Dyer's villainy. The government would =
be
fully informed, of course, but it seemed best not to tell the people of
Dorfield that a supposedly respectable citizen had been in the pay of the
Kaiser's agents. It would be likely to make them suspicious of one another =
and
have a bad influence generally. The criminal had paid the penalty of his
crimes. The murders he had committed and attempted to commit were avenged.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>
So it was announc=
ed
that the school superintendent had been killed by an accidental explosion at
the munition works, and the newspapers stated that Mrs. Dyer did not desire=
a
public funeral. Indeed, she was too overwhelmed by the tragedy to express a=
ny
desire regarding the funeral but left it all to Colonel Hathaway and Mr.
Colton, who volunteered to attend to the arrangements. The burial was very =
unostentatious
and the widow received much sympathy and did not suffer in the esteem of the
community. Mrs. Dyer, in fact, was never told of her husband's dishonor and=
so
mourned him sincerely.
Immediately follo=
wing
the conference referred to, Josie brought the Chief of Police and the secret
service men to her room and in their presence dragged the old pedestal-desk
from her closet. Mary Louise, who had been admitted, exclaimed in surprise:=
"Why, Josie!=
I
thought you sent the desk to Washington."
"No,"
answered Josie, "I merely shipped an empty box. I knew very well that =
Dyer
would try to get back the desk, hoping I had not discovered its secret, so I
deceived him and gained time by proving that I had sent a box home by
freight."
"That explai=
ns
his decision to take the projectile to Washington," commented Detective
Crissey, "he believed he could kill two birds with one stone--get back=
his
papers and earn a big fee from Mrs. Charleworth."
"Also,"
added Josie, "he would be able to give the German Master Spy full
information concerning the projectile, and so reap another reward. But all =
his
diabolical schemes were frustrated by Joe Langley's bullet."
"Well, here's
the desk," said Chief Farnum, "but where are those important pape=
rs,
Miss O'Gorman?"
"And what do
they prove?" added Crissey.
Josie slid back t=
he
panel in the square pedestal, disclosing the two compartments filled with
papers. These she allowed the police and the detectives to read, arid they =
not
only proved that John Dyer was in the pay of an organized band of German sp=
ies
having agents in Washington, New York and Chicago, but Crissey was confident
the notes, contracts and agreements would furnish clues leading to the
discovery and apprehension of the entire band. So the papers were placed in=
his
charge to take to Washington, and their importance was a further argument f=
or
secrecy concerning John Dyer's death.
"So far as I=
am
concerned," Josie said afterward to Colonel Hathaway and Mary Louise,
"the spy case is ended. When they arrest Tom Linnet they will be able =
to
prove, from the scraps of paper I found in the printing room of the hotel, =
that
Linnet printed the circulars from copy furnished by Dyer, and that Dyer and
Linnet together directed the envelopes, probably in the still hours of the
morning at the hotel desk, where they were not likely to be disturbed. The
circulars may not be considered legally treasonable, but the fact that Linn=
et
personally placed the bomb that destroyed the airplane works will surely se=
nd
him to the scaffold."
"I suppose y=
ou
will be called as a witness," suggested Mary Louise, "because you=
are
the only one who overheard his verbal confession of the crime."
"It wont take
much to make Linnet confess," predicted Josie. "He is yellow all
through, or he wouldn't have undertaken such dastardly work for the sake of
money. His refusal to undertake the second job was mere cowardice, not
repentance. I understand that sort of criminal pretty well, and I assure yo=
u he
will confess as soon as he is captured."
But, somewhat to =
the
astonishment of the officers, Tom Linnet managed to evade capture. They fou=
nd
his trail once or twice, and lost it again. After a time they discovered he=
had
escaped into Mexico; afterward they heard of a young man of his description=
in
Argentine; finally he disappeared altogether.
The arms of the l=
aw
are long and strong, far-reaching and mercilessly persistent. They may embr=
ace
Tom Linnet yet, but until now he has miraculously avoided them.
Colonel Hathaway =
and
Mary Louise were walking down the street one day when they noticed that the
front of Jake Kasker's Clothing Emporium was fairly covered with American
flags. Even the signs were hidden by a fluttering display of the Stars and
Stripes.
"I wonder wh=
at
this means?" said the colonel.
"Let's go in=
and
inquire," proposed Mary Louise. "I don't suppose the man has forg=
iven
me yet for suspecting his loyalty, but you've always defended him, Gran'pa =
Jim,
so he will probably tell you why he is celebrating."
They entered the
store and Kasker came forward to meet them.
"What's the
meaning of all the flags, Jake?" asked the colonel.
"Didn't you
hear?" said Kasker. "My boy's been shot--my little Jakie!" T=
ears
came to his eyes.
"Dear me!&qu=
ot;
exclaimed Mary Louise, with ready sympathy; "I hope he--he isn't
dead?"
"No," s=
aid
Kasker, wiping his eyes, "not that, thank God. A shell splinter took o=
ut a
piece of his leg--my little Jakie's leg!--and he's in a hospital at Soisson=
s.
His letter says in a few weeks he can go back to his company. I got a letter
from his captain, too. The captain says Jakie is a good soldier and fights =
like
wild-cats. That's what he says of Jakie!"
"Still,"
said Colonel Hathaway, with a puzzled look, "I do not quite understand=
why
you should decorate so profusely on account of so sad an event."
"Sad!"
exclaimed the clothing man, "not a bit. That's glory, the way I look at
it, Colonel. If my Jakie's blood is spilled for his country, and he can go =
back
and spill it again, it makes great honor for the name of Kasker. Say, once =
they
called me pro-German, 'cause I said I hated the war. Don't my Jakie's blood=
put
my name on America's honor roll? I'm pretty proud of Jakie," he wiped =
his
eyes again; "I'll give him an interest in the business, if he comes ba=
ck.
And if he don't--if those cursed Germans put an end to him--then folks will
say, 'See Jake Kasker over there? Well, he gave his son for his country--hi=
s only
son.' Seems to me, Colonel, that evens the score. America gives us Germans =
protection
and prosperity, and we give our blood to defend America's honor. I'm sorry I
couldn't find a place for any more flags."
The colonel and M=
ary
Louise were both a little awed, but as Kasker accompanied them to the door,
they strove to express their sympathy and approval. As they parted, however,
the man leaned over and whispered: "Just the same, I hate the war. But=
, if
it has to be, let's stand together to fight and win it!" * * * * * * *=
* "Gran'pa
Jim," said Mary Louise, when they were on the street again, "I'm
ashamed. I once told you I loved you better than my country, but Jake Kasker
loves his country better than his son."
The Liberty Girls
were forced to abandon their Shop when a substantial offer was made by a
business firm to rent the store they had occupied. However, they were then,
near the end of their resources, with depleted stock, for they had begged a=
bout
all the odds and ends people would consent to part with. What goods remaine=
d to
them were of inferior worth and slow to dispose of, so they concluded their
enterprise with a "grand auction," Peter Conant acting as auction=
eer,
and cleaned up the entire stock "in a blaze of glory," as Mary Lo=
uise
enthusiastically described the event.
The venture had b=
een
remarkably successful and many a soldier had cause to bless the Liberty Gir=
ls'
Shop for substantial comforts provided from its funds.
"But what ca=
n we
do now," inquired Mary Louise anxiously as the six captains met with I=
rene
one afternoon following the closing of the shop. "We must keep busy, of
course. Can't someone think of something?"
One and all had b=
een
thinking on that subject, it seemed. Various proposals were advanced, none =
of
which, however, seemed entirely practical until Irene said:
"We mustn't =
lose
our reputation for originality, you know, nor must we interfere with those =
who
are doing war relief work as well, if not much better, than we could. I've
pondered the case some, during the past few days, and in reading of the
progress of events I find that quite the most important thing on the govern=
ment
programme, at present, is the conservation of foods. 'Food will win the war=
' is
the latest slogan, and anyone who can help Mr. Hoover will be doing the utm=
ost
for our final victory." =
"That's all =
very
well, Irene," said Alora, "but I'm sure we are all as careful as
possible to conserve food."
"Don't ask u=
s to
eat any less," pleaded Edna, "for my appetite rebels as it is.&qu=
ot;
"I don't see=
how
we Liberty Girls can possibly help Mr. Hoover more than everyone else is
doing," remarked Laura. =
"Well, I've =
an
idea we can," replied Irene. "But this is just another case where=
I
can only plan, and you girls must execute. Now, listen to my proposition. T=
he
most necessary thing to conserve, it seems, is wheat."
"So it seems,
dear."
"People are
eating large quantities of wheat flour simply because they don't know what =
else
to eat," Irene continued. "Now, corn, properly prepared, is far m=
ore
delicious and equally as nourishing as wheat. The trouble is that people do=
n't
know how to use corn-meal and corn-flour to the best advantage."
"That is tru=
e;
and they're not likely to learn in time to apply the knowledge usefully,&qu=
ot;
commented Mary Louise.
"Not unless =
you
girls get busy and teach them," admitted Irene, while a smile went rou=
nd
the circle. "Don't laugh, girls. You are all very fair cooks, and if
properly trained in the methods of preparing corn for food, you could easily
teach others, and soon all Dorfield would be eating corn and conserving whe=
at. That
would be worth while, wouldn't it?"&n=
bsp;
"But who's to
train us, and how could we manage to train others?" asked Mary Louise.=
"The proposi=
tion
sounds interesting, Irene, and if carried through would doubtless be valuab=
le,
but is it practical?"
"Let us
see," was the reply. "Some time ago I read of the wonderful succe=
ss
of Mrs. Manton in preparing corn for food. She's one of the most famous
professional cooks in America and her name is already a household word. We =
use
her cook-book every day. Now, Mrs. Manton has been teaching classes in
Cleveland, and I wrote her and asked what she would charge to come here and
teach the Liberty Girls the practical methods of preparing her numerous corn
recipes. Here's her answer, girls. She wants her expenses and one hundred
dollars for two weeks' work, and she will come next week if we telegraph he=
r at
once."
They considered a=
nd
discussed this proposition very seriously.=
"At the Maso=
nic
Temple," said Mary Louise, "there is a large and fully equipped
kitchen, adjoining the lodge room, and it is not in use except on special
occasions. Gran'pa Jim is a high Mason, and so is Alora's father. Perhaps t=
hey
could secure permission for us to use the lodge kitchen for our class in
cookery."
The colonel and J=
ason
Jones, being consulted, promised the use of the kitchen and highly approved=
the
plan of the Liberty Girls. Mrs. Manton was telegraphed to come to Dorfield =
and
the cookery class was soon formed. Alora confessed she had no talent whatev=
er
for cooking, but all the other five were ready to undertake the work and a
selection was made from among the other Liberty Girls--of the rank and
file--which brought the total number of culinary endeavorers up to fifteen-=
-as large
a class as Mrs. Manton was able to handle efficiently.
While these fifte=
en
were being trained, by means of practical daily demonstration, in the many
appetizing preparations for the table from corn-meal and corn-flour, Alora =
and
one or two others daily visited the homes of Dorfield and left samples of
bread, buns, cookies, cakes, desserts and other things that had come fresh =
from
the ovens and range of the cooking-school. At the same time an offer was ma=
de
to teach the family cook--whether mistress or servant--in this patriotic br=
anch
of culinary art, and such offers were usually accepted with eagerness, espe=
cially
after tasting the delicious corn dainties.=
When Mrs. Manton =
left
Dorfield, after two weeks of successful work, she left fifteen Liberty Girls
fully competent to teach others how to prepare every one of her famous corn
recipes. And these fifteen, divided into "shifts" and with several
large kitchens at their disposal, immediately found themselves besieged by
applicants for instruction. Before winter set in, all Dorfield, as predicte=
d by
Irene, was eating corn, and liking it better than wheat, and in proof of th=
eir success,
the Liberty Girls received a highly complimentary letter from Mr. Hoover,
thanking them for their help in the time of the nation's greatest need. A f=
ee,
sufficient to cover the cost of the material used, had been exacted from all
those willing and able to pay for instruction, so no expense was involved in
this work aside from the charges of Mrs. Manton, which were cared for by
voluntary subscription on the part of a few who were interested in the girl=
s'
patriotic project.
Another thing the
Liberty Girls did was to start "Community Concerts" one evening e=
ach
week, which were held in various churches and attended by throngs of men, w=
omen
and children who joined lustily in the singing of patriotic and popular son=
gs.
This community singing became immensely popular and did much to promote
patriotic fervor as well as to entertain those in attendance.
And so Mary Louis=
e's
Liberty Girls, at the time this story ends, are still active workers in the
cause of liberty, justice and democracy, and will continue to support their
country's welfare as long as they can be of use.
"We're a real
part of the war," Mary Louise has often told her co-workers, "and=
I'm
sure that in the final day of glorious victory our girls will be found to h=
ave
played no unimportant part." =
span>
THE END