satchel and cautiously untied thedrawstring at the mouth of the bag. A moment later she had uncovered around ball of polished blue steel, to which was attached a tube coveredwith woven white cotton.
Josie fell back on a chair, fairly gasping, and stared with big eyes atthe ball. In her desire to investigate the possessions of the suspendersalesman she had scarcely expected to find anything like this. The mostshe had hoped to discover were incriminating papers.
"It's a bomb!" she stammered, regarding the thing fearfully; "a real,honest-for-true bomb. And it is meant to carry death and destruction toloyal supporters of our government. There's no doubt of that. But--"The thoughts that followed so amazing an assertion were too bewilderingto be readily classified. They involved a long string of conjectures,implicating in their wide ramifications several persons of importantstanding in the community. The mere suggestion of what she haduncovered sufficed to fill Josie's heart and brain with terror.
"Here! I mustn't try to think it out just yet," she told herself,trying with a little shiver of repulsion for the thing to collect herwits. "One idea at a time, Josie, my girl, or you'll go nutty and spoileverything! Now, here's a bomb--a live, death-dealing bomb--and that'sthe first and only thing to be considered at present."
Controlling her aversion and fear, the girl turned the bomb over andover, giving it a thorough examination. She had never seen such a thingbefore, but they had often been explained to her and she had an inklingas to the general method of their construction. This one before her wasof beautiful workmanship, its surface as carefully turned and polishedas if it had been intended for public exhibition. Grooves had been cutin the outer surface and within these grooves lay the coils of the timefuse, which was marked with black ink into regular sections. The firstsection from the end of the fuse was marked "6;" the next section "5"and so on down to the section nearest the bomb, which was divided bythe marks "1"--"1/2"--"1/4."
"I see," said Josie, nodding her head with intelligent perception."Each section, when lighted, will burn for one hour, running along itsgroove but harmless until the end of the fuse is reached. If the entirefuse is lighted, it will require just six hours to explode the bomb,while if it is cut off to the last mark and then lighted, the bomb willexplode in fifteen minutes. The operator can set it to suit himself, ascircumstances require."
The manner in which the fuse was attached to the bomb was simple. Thehole made in the bomb was exactly the size of the fuse inserted intoit. There were two little knobs, one on each side the hole. Afterpushing the fuse into the hole a fine wire was wound around it andattached to the tiny knobs, thus holding it firmly in place.
Josie took a pair of small pincers, unwound the wire and cautiouslywithdrew the fuse from the hole. Examining the end of the fuse she sawit was filled with a powdery substance which, when ignited, wouldexplode the bomb. She had recourse to her hairpin again and carefullypicked the powder out of the fuse for the distance of the entire firstsection. This proved difficult and painstaking work, but when completednot a grain of the powder remained in the woven cotton casing for thedistance of six inches from the end.
Having accomplished that much, Josie sat looking at the thing in aspeculative way. She could not have told you, at the moment, why herfirst act had been to render the bomb impotent in so queer a mannerwhen she could have simply destroyed the entire fuse. But, of course,no one would try to use the fiendish contrivance unless it was suppliedwith a fuse.
After a period of thought the girl decided what to do next. She removedthe bomb, fuse, green bag--even the satchel--to the big lower drawer ofher bureau, and turned the lock.
"No one is likely to come in but the chambermaid, and she will be toobusy to disturb anything," Josie decided; and then she locked her roomdoor and went down stairs to breakfast.
CHAPTER XVIIIA HINT FEOM ANNIE BOYLE
Josie was late. In the breakfast room she found but one guest besidesherself, an old lady with a putty face. But there was also a young girlseated at a near-by table who was grumbling and complaining to the maidwho waited upon her.
"It ain't my fault, Miss Annie," protested the maid. "The cook says youordered your breakfast half an hour ago, an' then went away. We triedto keep it hot for you, and if it's cold it's your own fault."
"I was talking with Mr. Kauffman," pouted the girl, who seemed a merechild. "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 nearenough for conversation, so when the maid had gone to the kitchen Josiesaid sweetly:
"That Mr. Kauffman's a nice man, isn't he? I don't wonder you forgotyour breakfast. Isn't this Miss Annie Boyle?"
"Yes," was the answer. "Do you know Abe Kauffman?"
"I've met him," said Josie.
"He an' Pa used to be good friends," said Annie Boyle, who did not seemat all shy in conversing with strangers, "but Pa's soured on himlately. 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 theGerman-Americans are the back-bone of this country, and as goodcitizens as any."
"He don't seem to like the war, though," remarked Josie carelessly.
"Well, do you know why? Abe's had two brothers and five cousins in theGerman army, and all of 'em's been killed. That's why he's sore on thewar. Says his brothers deserved what they got for not comin' to Americaan' bein' American citizens, like Abe is. But I know he's dreadfulsorry 'bout their bein' killed just the same. German folks seem tothink a good, deal of their families, an' so jest to mention the warmakes Abe rave an' swear."
"That's foolish," said Josie. "He'll get himself into trouble."
"Abe's no fool; he knows how far he can go, an' when to stop talkin'.He'll cuss the war, but you never hear him cuss'n' the United States.He told me, just a while ago, that the war'll make him rich, 'causehe's smart enough to use it for his own good. But he said I mustn'ttalk about that," she added, with a sudden realization that Josie wasregarding her curiously. "Abe an' me's chums, an' what he says isbetween us. P'raps he was only jokin', 'bout gettin' rich. Abe's agreat joker, anyhow."
That this was a rather lame retraction was apparent even to AnnieBoyle. She gave Josie a suspicious look, but Josie's face wasabsolutely expressionless. The maid was placing her order before herand she calmly began her breakfast. A moment later, the old lady roseand tottered out of the room.
"Gee! I wish I had her money," remarked Annie Boyle, looking after her."She's got a wad of stocks an' just has to cut coupons off 'em. Liveshere easy an' don't worry. If I had her dough I'd--" She stoppedsuddenly.
"Money's a good 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 tookhim for night clerk when he didn't have a cent--and it wasn't so longago, 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' howhe can afford to buy Barker's cigar store. I asked Abe about it an' Abesays he guesses Tom got the money from an aunt that jus' died."
"Perhaps he did."
"Well, where'd he get the aunt? Tom's got two brothers that arepeddlers an' a father who's a track-walker, an' he's got a mother whattakes in washin'. If there's an aunt, she's some relation to the restof the family, so why didn't she leave them some money, as well asTom?"
"I don't know, but I'm glad Tom is so well fixed," answered Josie,rather absently, for her eye had fallen on the menu card beside herplate, and the menu card had somehow conveyed a new thought to hermind. She picked it up and examined it critically. Part of it wasprinted in a queer, open-faced type--all capitals--while the balance ofthe list of dishe
s had been written in with pen and ink. These printedbills would do for a good many breakfasts, for they mentioned only thestaples, while the supplementary dishes were day by day added inwriting.
"I wonder who prints your bills-of-fare?" she said to Annie Boyle.
"Why
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