“We can’t buy bonds,” he said peevishly. “Our business is being ruined by the high 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 compensation, 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.”
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 kept 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 herself 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 hour, and sold him exactly the amount he should have bought.
The mill subscription 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 thousand; the Denis Hardware Company took ten thousand. Then Mary Louise met her first serious rebuff. She went into Silas Herring’s wholesale grocery establishment and told Mr. Herring she wanted to sell him bonds.
“This is outrageous!” cried Herring indignantly. “When the men can’t rob us, 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 work, I assure you, and I advise you to get into more respectable business. My money 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 ashamed, Miss Burrows, to lend yourself to such unpatriotic methods of bulldozing honest 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 Dyer, the superintendent of Dorfield’s schools, and the Hon. Andrew Duncan, a leading 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-shouldered 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 difference between Mr. Herring and eighty percent of the American people,” said he 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 believe that!” cried Mary Louise indignantly. “The American people are loyal 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 that his back was toward her.
“You won’t be busy long, if you keep talking that way,” predicted the girl.
“Tut-tut!” said the Hon. Andrew, warningly. “Your threats, young lady, are as unwise as Mr. Herring’s speech.”
“But they carry 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 this, our country’s greatest crisis? And they’re going to know it, if I have to visit each one and tell him myself what Mr. Herring has said.”
A tense, if momentary 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 ours, 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, Miss 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 with undisguised cheerfulness.
“We are all loyal — thoroughly loyal,” said the latter. “I’ve bought some Liberty 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, with our flesh and blood. I have no children, but my two nephews and a second cousin 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 the world.”
“I know,” 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 doubt it — that you’re a loyal American. You can convince me of the fact by purchasing 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 face, 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 meekly, with downcast eyes. Next the grocer gazed at the supervisor, who smiled in a shrewd way and gave a brief nod.
Mr. Herring frowned. 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 Mary Louise.
“You’ve won, young lady,” he admitted. “I’m too good an American to approve what 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 — there 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 saw 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 and left the private office. Professor Dyer accompanied her and at the outer door he said to the girl:
“Silas Herring’s heart is in the right place, as you see by his generous check. Of course, he might have bought more bonds than that, as he is very wealthy, but he is an obstinate 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 everyone you meet to buy bonds,” suggested Mary Louise. She did not care to discuss Silas Herring.
“I’ll do that, indeed,” promised the school superintendent. But as he watched her depart, there was a queer expression on his lean face that it was well Mary Louise did not see.
CHAPTER IV
THE TRAITOR
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 National Steel Works, the manager of which industry, Mr. Colton, was a relative of the 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.
“In one day, Gran’pa Jim!” she cried exultantly, and the old colonel’s eyes sparkled 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.”
“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 know, 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,” she added, “but just inducing them to make a safe investment. Isn’t that true, Gran’pa Jim?”
“What surprises me most,” he responded, “is how you ever managed to load your little 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 since 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 the 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,” 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-day’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 bring 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 Louise 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 mail, 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. McGill! I’m sure you are mistaken,” she replied. “You can afford insurance, you know, to protect your stock, and this money for Uncle Sam is an insurance 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,” 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 nations of Europe, who are fighting an unprofitable war. Some of our dollars will equip an army of American boys to fight on Europe’s battlefields. 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.”
“Why, this is treason!” cried Mary Louise, gasping from sheer amazement and indignation. “It’s a — a — treacherous, vile, disloyal insinuation. Some German spy wrote that, and he ought to be hanged for it!”
The druggist nodded. 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 yesterday. Perhaps your success is responsible for this — this — opposition.”
Mary Louise’s cheeks 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.
“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 right; it’s treasonable. It will be hard for me to raise five hundred, just now, but I’ll do it. I want that to be my answer to the German.”
Mary Louise thanked 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 approached him.
The man bowed low to Mary Louise, a deference she felt rendered to her red-white-and-blue uniform.
“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 passe
d on to the next store. During the morning Mary Louise discovered several more of the traitorous circulars. Some merchants would not admit having received the warning; others, through their arguments, convinced the girl they had not only read the screed but had been influenced by it. Perhaps it did not seriously affect her sales 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 vengeance 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 wanted 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 it, is likely to prevent a lot of foolish people from investing in the bonds. All this morning I could see that men were influenced by this circular, which has been pretty generally distributed.”
“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 the 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 sure I ought to speak his name, for it’s only a suspicion and I may be wrong. It would 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?”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 613