They looked at one another, half frightened at the suggestion, for all knew whom she meant.
“Perhaps,” 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 their sale.”
“Those pro-Germans,” remarked little Jane Donovan, “are clever and sly. They work in the dark. 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 buncombe, my dear,” said Edna decidedly. “That flag talk didn’t take the curse off the statement that the war is all wrong.”
“He had to say 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,” said Mary Louise; “Gran’pa has told me of several others; but none has spoken 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. But now let us check up the morning’s work and get busy again as soon as possible. We mustn’t lose a single minute.”
“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 conspiracy, 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 not 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 queer open-faced type as the first. Not so many had been sent out of these, but they were even more malicious in their suggestions. The girls were able to collect 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 work.
Of course the Liberty 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 did 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 easily 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 natural 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 fully 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,” 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 me, 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 smiled at the pretty faces and dainty costumes of our Liberty Girls and wrote their checks without a murmur.”
“All the credit 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!” 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.”
CHAPTER V
UNCONVINCING TESTIMONY
On Sunday “Gran’pa Jim,” relieved of all worry, felt “quite himself again,” 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 approval 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 different 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, which are too foolish to be considered seriously, but because such a person is sure to attempt other venomous deeds which might prove more important. German propaganda must be dealt with sternly and all opposition to the administration thoroughly crushed. It will never do to allow a man like this to go unrebuked and unpunished.”
“What, then, would you suggest?” asked the girl.
“The police should be notified. Chief Farnum is a clever officer and intensely patriotic, from all I have heard. I think he will have no difficulty in discovering who is responsible for these circulars.”
“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 look into the girl’s face.
“Well!” said the Chief, in an interrogative tone.
“Those treasonable circulars have been mailed to a lot of our citizens,” said she.
“I know.”
“They are pro-German, of course. The traitor who is responsible for them ought to be arrested immediately.”
“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 you 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 for the compliment,” said the Chief, again smiling. “I believe we could locate the fellow, were such a task not obviated by the second objection.”
“And that?”
“If you’ll read 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 disloyal, 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 makes certain statements that are true and would be harmless in themselves were they 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 the 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 infringed 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 did 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 mind telling you, however, that there are now in Dorfield certain government agents 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 suppose 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 agent, but have heard nothing more of the affair.”
“And you fear they will let the matter drop?” she questioned, trying to catch the drift of his cautiously expressed words.
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 issued 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 every 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 arrest him and put an end to his career.”
“You think that, sir?”
“I’m pretty sure of it, from long experience with criminals.”
“I suppose the Kaiser is paying him,” said the girl, bitterly.
“We’ve no grounds for that belief.”
“He is helping the Kaiser; he is pro-German!”
“He is helping 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 administration 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 traitors are not all pro-German. Let us say they are anti-American.”
Mary Louise was sorely disappointed.
“I think I know who this traitor is, in spite of what you say,” she remarked, “and 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 to be absolutely certain,” said he, “before accusing anyone of disloyalty. 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 they hate, of disloyalty. In not a single instance have they furnished proof, and we do not encourage mere telltales. I don’t want you to tell me whom you suspect, 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 Farnum’s attitude, which I believe to be as just as it is conservative. Suspicion, based 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 their 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 traitors, and I know very well that somewhere in Dorfield lurks an enemy to my country.”
“We will admit 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 sighed.
“You are always right, Gran’pa Jim,” she said, kissing him fondly. “Drat that traitor, though! How I hate a snake in the grass.”
CHAPTER VI.
TO HELP WIN THE WAR
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 which 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 would prove of substantial value, although she realized that all her friends were earnestly determined to “do their bit,” whatever the bit might chance to be. The local Red Cross chapter had already usurped many fields of feminine usefulness and with a thorough organization, which included many of the older women, was accomplishing a ‘vast deal of good. Of course the Liberty Girls could not hope to rival the Red Cross.
Mary Louise was only 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 relief. The sensational bond sale, however, had made the youngsters heroines — for the moment, at least — and greatly stimulated their confidence in themselves and their ambition to accomplish more.
Mary Louise Burrows 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. The Hathaway home was one of the most attractive in Dorfield, and Mary Louise and her grandfather were popular and highly respected. Their servants consisted of an aged pair of negroes named “Aunt Sally” and “Uncle Eben,” who considered themselves family possessions and were devoted to “de ole 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 several millions by her mother. Her father, Jason Jones, although he handled Alora’s fo
rtune and surrounded his motherless daughter with every luxury, was by profession an artist — a kindly man who encouraged the girl to be generous and 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 her father. Alora, however, was rather reserved and inclined to make few friends, her worst fault being a suspicion of all strangers, due to some unfortunate experiences 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 three brothers owned and operated the Neal Automobile Factory, and whose intelligent zeal and knowledge of war conditions had been of great service to Mary Louise; 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 niece 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, Irene 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 little 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 decreed that for life she must be wedded to a wheeled chair.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 614