America First
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silent in their seats,trying to calculate how many thousand years it would take for thatlong clock-hand to move half-way round the dial again.
Louise began wondering at just what point Rudolph Kreisler would stealout of his hiding and break for home. The rain had stopped, and shehoped and believed that the little German would make good his escapebefore the third grade had finished serving sentence.
Suddenly Luke, raising his hand, asked of the substitute:
"May I speak to Billy Hastings on business?"
The substitute was writing something and assented without looking up.Louise could not help hearing the hoarsely whispered "business."
"Connie Tipton," said Luke to Billy, "says that that German spy hasbeen hiding in the basement but has slipped up-stairs--" The hoarsewhisper dropped lower at this point and Louise could not catch thewords which followed. She guessed darkly, however, and clung to herdesk tighter and tighter.
At that fateful moment the substitute looked up and said:
"Children, the others have all gone, and it looks like rain again, soI am going to dismiss you. File out quietly--I don't wish to have tocall you back."
She did not rise from her seat to marshal them out, taking care thatthe last one of them was out of sight of the schoolhouse before heslackened his pace. She merely dropped her eyes to her writing againand left them practically to their own devices.
The boys marched through the cloaking-room first, and they wereominously quiet about it.
Then the little girls rose and filed out. Louise led the girls' line,but though she followed swiftly in the wake of the boys, they haddisappeared off the face of the earth when she reached thecloaking-room door which opened into the hall.
They had slipped off to hunt for Rudolph Kreisler, and Louise knew it.She hoped that Rudolph had left the building, but she was not sure.
Something must be done--but _what_?
Just then she caught from above the sound of tiptoeing and whispering.
It was dishonorable to "tattle," but it wasn't dishonorable to flyafter a set of lawless boys and keep them from abusing an innocentwould-be American. Louise deserted the head of her line and darted upthe long stairs.
It was like a frightful nightmare--the stealthy, breathless chasewhich followed. She could not stop the boys in their mad search, couldnot command their attention a moment to explain. In and out theydarted--fourth-grade, fifth-grade, sixth-grade, seventh! Every crackand cranny, every cloaking-room and teacher's desk was made to proveits innocence of sheltering the fugitive spy. The scampering boys werejust finishing their search of the seventh grade when Louise foundherself at the foot of the garret steps.
She stopped and surveyed their boxed-up secretiveness. What if Rudolphhad gone up there?
From the sounds of disappointment now issuing from the seventh gradeshe knew that the last schoolroom to be searched had not yielded upthe quarry. Yes, Rudolph must be in the garret, and of course the boyswould pursue him there!
Then a sudden idea came to her. If she could but reach Rudolph firstshe might help him to climb out of the garret window.
Up the dark steps she flew, but, alas! there were flying feet tofollow! The others had seen, and were coming after.
They caught up with her before she reached the top, and she and theyburst into the long garret room together.
It was big with mystery--that long garret place--and weirdlyfrightening with its half-lights and whole shadows. For one moment thechildren stood at pause before its awesome silence.
No German spy was in sight.
Then the boys began searching hurriedly, and after a quick glanceabout the open and lighter space before them, went pushing their questfarther and farther into the distant dark of the wings and gables.
Louise stood where they had left her, with the feeling that _the endof all things_ was at hand, and that there was no use to strugglefurther. Presently her mist-dimmed eyes were attracted to a pile ofsomething over at a small window near where she stood. The janitor hadthrown their beautiful flag across an old couch without taking thetrouble to roll it properly.
The indignant little girl started toward the couch to straighten outand roll the flag when her ear caught a sound which caused her topause a moment in dim speculation. There was a step below, a firm, afamiliar step--but no, she must be mistaken!
She slipped over to the couch, but the next moment drew back andclapped her hand over her mouth to repress a startled scream. A littleyellow-haired boy lay asleep upon the couch, with the big flag nearlycovering him!
Louise leaned over him. Two shining drops still lay on his cheek. Hehad sobbed himself to sleep--he was such a _little_ boy!
"You can't touch Rudolph!" she tried. "He's under theflag!"]
A drift of damp air floated in from the window, and the sleepershivered and moved as if to cuddle further under his shelter. Louisevery gently drew the bunting folds closer about his neck. Somehow she_knew_ that this was not desecration.
That steady step from below again and--nearer!
But just at that moment the boys came noisily back from the distantwings and gables.
"Hello, Louise! What are you doing there?" Luke Musgrove called.
Louise started up. She was between them and the sleeping boy, but shecould not screen him from their astonished eyes.
"Gee, but there he is!" exclaimed Billy. "Let's----"
But the spirit of a long line of just and fair Americans was facingthem. Louise Carey was descended from ancestors who had bought freedomand fair play with their blood, so in that hour--when she faced theunthinking lawless--there was a something in her eyes which broughtthem to a stand before her.
"You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under the flag!"
A quiet fell upon them. They looked first at the sacred, shelteringflag of their country, and then at each other. And while they yetpaused in awe there came to them the sound of a steady, familiar stepon the garret stair. The next moment the door opened and there enteredMiss Barclay--the teacher who, by her wisdom and her justice, couldalways command to stillness the tempests of their childish hearts.