Mary Louise and the Liberty Girls

by L. Frank Baum

induced theprofessor, after much urging, to take our projectile to Washington,have it tested, and secure contracts for its manufacture. If hesucceeds, we are to pay liberally for his services. That was how hecame to be at our house last evening, when arrangements were finallymade."

  "Was such secrecy necessary?" asked Josie suspiciously.

  It was Kauffman who answered this question, speaking with apparent goodhumor but with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice: "My dear young lady,your own disposition to secrecy--a quality quite necessary in adetective--should show you the absurdity of your question. Can we betoo careful in these days of espionage? No emissary of the Kaiser mustknow the construction of this wonderful projectile; none should evenknow that it exists. Even should our government refuse to adopt it; wemust not let the Central Powers know of it. My own negotiations withMr. Colton and Mrs. Charleworth have been camouflaged by my disguise asa suspender merchant. It was equally important that Mr. Dyer'sconnection with us be wholly unsuspected. When the projectile isadopted, and these works are manufacturing it in quantities to help winthe war, still no information concerning it must be made public. Youmust 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 governmentagent. If you fail to substantiate that claim, we shall place you underarrest and turn you over to the authorities, for our own protection."

  "To be sure," said Josie; "that will be your duty. I am the daughter ofJohn O'Gorman, one of the high officers of the United States SecretService, who is now in Europe in the interests of the government. Icame to Dorfield to visit my friend, Mary Louise Burrows, as Mrs.Charleworth is aware, and while here my suspicions were aroused of theexistence of a German spy plot. Therefore I set to work to bring thecriminals to justice."

  "And, like the regulation detective, you have followed a false trail,"commented Kauffman, with his provoking smile.

  "Not altogether," retorted Josie. "I have already secured proof thatwill convict two persons, at least. And I am amazed that you haveintrusted your secrets to that arch-traitor, Professor Dyer. Will youtell me, Mrs. Charleworth, what you know about that man?"

  Mrs. Charleworth seemed astounded.

  "Professor John Dyer is one of Dorfield's old residents, I believe,"she answered slowly, as if carefully considering her words. "He is alsothe superintendent of schools, and in that capacity seems highlyrespected. I have never heard anything against the man, until now. Hisimportant public position should vouch for his integrity."

  "Isn't his position a political appointment?" inquired Josie.

  The lady looked at Mr. Colton. "Yes," said the manager. "It is truethat John Dyer was active in politics long before he was madesuperintendent of schools. However, he was an educator, as well as apolitician, 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 ouracquaintance until very recently was casual. But I have looked upon himas a man of importance in the community. On learning that he had arelative on the munitions board, I asked him to come, to my house,where I made him the proposition to take our projectile to Washingtonand secure its adoption. I offered liberal terms for such service, butat first the professor seemed not interested. I arranged a secondmeeting, last evening, at which Mr. Kauffman was present to explaintechnical details, and we soon persuaded Mr. Dyer to undertake thecommission. We felt that we could trust him implicity."

  "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 securing the firm's option to manufacture it on a royaltybasis, we are to take it to my house, where Mr. Dyer will receive itand obtain our final instructions."

  "One question more, if you please," said Josie. "What connection withyour 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 Housewhere I stop. Sometimes I see him when I come in late. He's not ofspecial account; 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 revolvershot--came from the rear. As Colton and Kauffman sprang to their feetand Mrs. Charleworth shrank back in a fright, the girl ran to the backdoor, opened it and started to make her way through the huge, darkbuilding beyond the partition. The manager followed in her wake and ashe passed through the door he turned a switch which flooded the bigstore-room with light.

  In the center of the building were long, broad tables, used forpacking. A few shells still remained grouped here and there upon theboards. On either side the walls were lined with tiers of boxes boundwith steel bands and ready for shipment. No person was visible in thisroom, but at the farther end an outer door stood ajar and just outsideit a motionless form was outlined.

  Josie and Mr. Colton, approaching this outer door nearly at the sametime, controlled their haste and came to an abrupt halt. The uprightfigure was that of Sergeant Joe Langley and the light from the roomjust 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 scenepanting for he was too short and fat to run easily.

  Joe turned and looked at them as if waking from a trance. His stolidface took on a shamed expression.

  "Couldn't help it, sir," he said to the manager. "I caught him in theact. It was the flashlight that saved us. When it struck him he lookedup 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."

  As he spoke, Sergeant Joe approached the form and with a shove of hisfoot pushed it over. It rolled slightly, unbent, and now lay at fulllength, facing them. Josie picked up the flashlight and turned it uponthe face.

  "Oh!" she cried aloud, and shivered anew, but was not surprised.

  "I guess," said Joe slowly, "they'll have to get another schoolsuperintendent."

  "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 curiousobject that until now had been hidden by the dead man's body.

  "It's a infernal machine, sir, an' I ain't sure, even yet, that itwon't go off an' blow us all up. He was leanin' down an' bendin' overit, twisting that dial you see, when on a sudden I spotted him. Ididn't stop to think. My Cap'n used to say 'Act first an' thinkafterwards,' an' that's what I did. I didn't know till now it was theschool boss, but it wouldn't have made any difference. I done my dutyas I saw it, an' I hope I did it right, Mr. Colton."

  Kauffman was already stooping over the machine, examining it with askilled 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 hishandkerchief wiped the perspiration from his face.

  "Gott!" he exclaimed, "this is no joke. We've all been too near deathto feel comfortable."

  "This is horrible!" said Mr. Colton, "I can't yet believe that Dyercould be guilty of so fiendish an act."

  "I can," asserted Josie grimly, "and it isn't the first time he hasplanned murder, either. Dyer was responsible for the explosion at theairplane factory."

  Footsteps were heard. Out of the darkness between the group ofbuildings appeared two men, Crissey and Addison.

  "Are we too late, Miss O'Gorman?" asked Crissey.

  "Yes," she replied. "How did you lose track of Dyer?"

  "He's a slippery fellow," said Addison, "and threw us off the scent.But
finally we traced him here and--"

  "And there he is," concluded Josie in a reproachful tone.

  Crissey caught sight of the machine.

  "Great Caesar!" he exclaimed, "who saved you?"

  "I did," answered Joe, putting the revolver in his hip pocket, "but Iwish you'd had the job, stranger."

  CHAPTER XXIVAFTER THE CRISIS

  Mrs. Charleworth drove Josie, who was sobbing nervously and quitebereft of her usual self-command, to Colonel Hathaway's