Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  There was applause — somewhat more mild in character — but none came forward. Alora’s father, Jason Jones, who had already signed for fifty thousand dollars, rose and added another twenty-five thousand to that sum. This act elicited another ripple of applause; more questioning looks were exchanged between those assembled, but there were no further offers to subscribe.

  The hearts of the committeemen fell. Was this meeting, on which they had so greatly depended, destined to prove a failure, after all?

  Jake Kasker, the owner of “Kasker’s Clothing Emporium,” finally made his way to the platform and mounting the steps faced his townspeople. There was a little murmur of surprise and a sudden tension. The man had been distrusted in Dorfield, of late.

  “You all know what I think about this war,” said Kasker in a loud voice and with a slight German accent. “I don’t approve of it, whatever anyone says, and I think we were wrong to get into it, anyhow.”

  A storm of hisses and cries of “Shame!” saluted him, but he waited stolidly for the demonstration to subside. Then he continued:

  “But, whatever I think about the war, I want to tell you that this flag that now waves over my head is as much my flag as it is yours, for I’m an American citizen. Where that flag goes, Jake Kasker will follow, no matter what fools carry the standard. If they don’t think I’m too old to go to France, I’ll pack up and go to-morrow. That’s Jake Kasker — with a Dutch name but a Yankee heart. Some of you down there got Yankee names an’ hearts that make the Kaiser laugh. I wouldn’t trade with you! Now, hear this: I ain’t rich; you know that; but I’ll take two thousand dollars’ worth of Liberty Bonds.”

  Some one laughed, jeeringly. Another shouted:

  “Make it three thousand, Jake!”

  “I will,” said Kasker; “and, if there ain’t enough of you war-crazy, yellow-hearted patriots in Dorfield to take what we got to take, then I’ll make it five thousand. But if I have to do that — an’ I can’t afford it, but I’ll do it! — it’s me, Jake Kasker, that’ll cry ‘Shame!’ and hiss like a goose whenever you slackers pass my door.”

  There was more laughter, a few angry shouts, and a movement toward the platform. The German signed the paper Mr. Jaswell placed before him and withdrew. Soon there was a line extending from the banker’s table to the crowd below, and the signatures for bonds were slowly but steadily secured.

  Colonel Hathaway faced the German clothier, who stood a few paces back, a cynical grin upon his features.

  “Thank you, Kasker,” said the old gentleman, in a cold voice. “You have really helped us, although you should have omitted those traitorous words. They poisoned a deed you might have been proud of.”

  “We don’t agree, Colonel,” replied Kasker, with a shrug. “When I talk, I’m honest; I say what I think.” He turned and walked away and Colonel Hathaway looked after him with an expression of dislike.

  “I wonder why he did it?” whispered Mary Louise, who had overheard the exchange of words and marked Kasker’s dogged opposition.

  “He bought the bonds as a matter of business,” replied Laura Hilton. “It’s a safe investment, and Kasker knows it. Besides that, he may have an idea it would disarm suspicion.”

  “Also,” added Alora Jones, “he took advantage of the opportunity to slam the war. That was worth something to a man like Kasker.”

  CHAPTER II

  MARY LOUISE TAKES COMMAND

  When Mary Louise entered the library the next morning she found her grandfather seated at the table, his head resting on his extended arms in an attitude of great depression. The young girl was startled.

  “What is it, Gran’pa Jim?” she asked, going to his side and laying a hand lovingly on his shoulder.

  The old gentleman looked up with a face drawn and gray.

  “I’m nervous and restless, my dear,” he said; “that’s all. Go to breakfast, Mary Louise; I — I’ll join you presently.”

  She sat down on the arm of his chair.

  “Haven’t you slept well, Gran’pa?” she asked anxiously, and then her eyes wandered through the open door to the next room and rested on the undisturbed bed. “Why, you haven’t slept at all, dear!” she cried in distress. “What is wrong? Are you ill?”

  “No, no, Mary Louise; don’t worry. I — I shall be all right presently. But — I was terribly disappointed in last night’s meeting, and — ”

  “I see. They didn’t subscribe what they ought to. But you can’t help that, Gran’pa Jim! You did all that was possible, and you mustn’t take it so much to heart.”

  “It is so important, child; more important, I fear, than many of them guess. This will be a desperate war, and without the money to fight — ”

  “Oh, the money’ll come, Gran’pa; I’m sure of that. If Dorfield doesn’t do it’s duty, the rest of the country will, so you mustn’t feel badly about our failure. In fact, we haven’t failed, as yet. How much did they subscribe last night?”

  “In all, a hundred and thirty thousand. We have now secured barely a third of our allotment, and only five days more to get the balance!”

  Mary Louise reflected, eyeing him seriously.

  “Gran’pa,” said she, “you’ve worn yourself out with work and worry. They ought not to have put you on this Liberty Bond Committee; you’re too old, and you’re not well or strong enough to endure all the anxiety and hard work.”

  “For the honor of — ”

  “Yes, I know, dear. Our country needs you, so you mustn’t break down. Now come and drink a cup of coffee and I’ll talk to you. I’ve a secret to tell you.”

  He smiled, rather wanly and hopelessly, but he permitted the girl to assist him to rise and to lead him to the breakfast room. There Mary Louise poured his coffee and attacked her own breakfast, although with indifferent appetite.

  Gran’pa Jim was the only relative she had in all the world and she loved him devotedly. Their life in the pretty little town had been peaceful and happy until recently — until the war. But the old Colonel, loyal veteran that he was, promptly made it his war and was roused as Mary Louise had never seen him roused before. In his mind was no question of the justice of our country’s participation in the world struggle; he was proud to be an American and gloried in America’s sacrifice to the cause of humanity. Too old to fight on the battlefield, he felt honored at his appointment to the membership of the Liberty Bond Committee and threw all his energies into the task assigned him. So it is easy to understand that the coldness and reluctance to subscribe for bonds on the part of his fellow townsmen had well nigh broken his heart.

  This the girl, his closest companion, fully appreciated.

  “Gran’pa,” she said, regarding him across the table after their old black mammy, Aunt Sally, had left them together, “I love my country, as you know; but I love you better.”

  “Oh, Mary Louise!”

  “It’s true; and it’s right that I should. If I had to choose between letting the Germans capture the United States, or losing you, I’d let the Germans come! That’s honest, and it’s the way I feel. Love for one’s country is a fine sentiment, but my love for you is deeper. I wouldn’t whisper this to anyone else, for no one else could understand it, but you will understand it, Gran’pa Jim, and you know my love for you doesn’t prevent my still being as good an American as the average. However,” continued the young girl, in a lighter tone, “I’ve no desire to lose you or allow the Germans to whip us, if I can help it, so I’ve got two battles to fight. The truth is, Gran’pa, that you’re used up with the hard work of the last few weeks, and another five days of begging for subscriptions would wreck you entirely. So you’re to stop short — this very minute — and rest up and take it easy and not worry.”

  “But — my dear!”

  “See here, Gran’pa Jim,” with assumed sternness, “you’ve worked hard to secure Dorfield’s quota, and you’ve failed. Why, the biggest subscribers for bonds in the whole city are you and Jason Jones! There’s plenty of wealth in Dorfield,
and over at the mills and factories are thousands of workmen who can buy bonds; but you and your Committee don’t know how to interest the people in your proposition. The people are loyal enough, but they don’t understand, and you don’t understand how to make them understand.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head dolefully, “they’re a dense lot, and we can’t make them understand.”

  “Well, I can,” said Mary Louise, cheerfully.

  “You, child?”

  “Yes. You mustn’t imagine I’ve tackled the problem this very morning; I’ve been considering it for some time, and I’ve talked and consulted with Alora and Irene and Laura and the other girls about the best way to redeem the situation. We knew the situation was desperate long before last night’s meeting. So all our plans are made, and we believe we can sell all the bonds required. It was our policy to keep silent until we knew what the big mass-meeting last night would accomplish, but we suspected it would turn out just the way it did — a fizzle. So the job’s up to us, and if you’ll sit quiet, Gran’pa Jim, and let us girls do the work, we’ll put Dorfield in the honor column by Saturday night.”

  “This is nonsense!” exclaimed the Colonel, but there was an accent of hope in his voice, nevertheless.

  “We girls are thoroughly organized,” said Mary Louise, “and we’ll sell the bonds.”

  “Girls!”

  “Why, just think of it, Gran’pa. Who would refuse a group of young girls — earnest and enthusiastic girls? The trouble with you men is that you accept all sorts of excuses. They tell you they’re hard up and can’t spare the money; there’s a mortgage to pay, or taxes or notes to meet, and they can’t afford it, anyway. But that kind of talk won’t do when we girls get after them.”

  “What arguments can you use that we have disregarded?”

  “First, we’ll coax; then we’ll appeal to their patriotism; then we’ll threaten them with scorn and opprobrium, which they’ll richly deserve if they hang on till it comes to that. If the threats don’t make ‘em buy, we’ll cry — and every tear will sell a bond!”

  The Colonel stirred his coffee thoughtfully.

  “You might try it,” he suggested. “I’ve read that in some cities the Boy Scouts have been successful in placing the bonds. It’s an honorable undertaking, in any event, but — I hope you will meet with no insults.”

  “If that rank pro-German, Jake Kasker, will buy bonds, there isn’t a man in Dorfield who can give a logical excuse for not doing likewise,” declared Mary Louise. “I’m going to use Kasker to shame the rest of them. But, before I undertake this job, I shall make a condition, Gran’pa. You must stay quietly at home while we girls do the work.”

  “Oh, I could not do that, Mary Louise.”

  “You’re not fit to leave the house. Will you try my plan for one day — just for to-day.”

  “I’ll think it over, dear,” he said, rising.

  She assisted him to the library and then ran down the street to the doctor’s office.

  “Dr. McGruer,” she said, “go over at once and see my grandfather. He’s completely exhausted with the work of selling Liberty Bonds. Be sure you order him to keep at home and remain quiet — at least for to-day.”

  CHAPTER III

  THE LIBERTY GIRLS

  An hour later six girls met at the home of Alora Jones, who lived with her father in a fine mansion across the street from Colonel Hathaway’s residence. These girls were prepared to work, and work diligently, under the leadership of Mary Louise, for they had been planning and discussing this event for several days, patiently awaiting the word to start their campaign.

  “Some girls,” said Mary Louise, “are knitting, and that’s a good thing to do, in a way. Others are making pajamas and pillows for the Red Cross, and that’s also an admirable thing to do. But our duty lies on a higher plane, for we’re going to get money to enable Uncle Sam to take care of our soldier boys.”

  “Do — do you think we can make people buy bonds?” asked little Laura Hilton, with a trace of doubt in her voice.

  Mary Louise gave her a severe look.

  “We not only can, but we shall make people buy,” she replied. “We shall ask them very prettily, and they cannot refuse us. We’ve all been loaded to the brim with arguments, if arguments are necessary, but we haven’t time to gossip with folks. A whole lot of money must be raised, and there’s a short time to do it in.”

  “Seems to me,” remarked Edna Barlow, earnestly, “we’re wasting time just now. Let’s get busy.”

  “Well, get on your costumes, girls,” suggested Alora Jones. “They are all here, in this big box, and the banners are standing in the hall. It’s after nine, now, and by ten o’clock we must all be at work.”

  They proceeded to dress themselves in the striking costumes they had secretly prepared; a blue silk waist with white stars scattered over it, a red-and-white striped skirt, the stripes running from waistband to hem, a “Godess of Liberty” cap and white canvas shoes. Attired in this fashion, the “Liberty Girls,” as they had dubbed themselves, presented a most attractive and patriotic appearance, and as they filed out through the hall each seized a handsome silken banner, gold fringed, which bore the words: “Buy Bonds of Dorfield’s Liberty Girls.”

  “Now, then,” said Mary Louise, “we have each been allotted a certain district in the business part of the city, for which we are individually responsible. Each one knows what she is expected to do. Let no one escape. If any man claims to have already bought bonds, make him buy more. And remember, we’re all to meet at my house at one o’clock for luncheon, and to report progress.”

  A block away they secured seats in a streetcar and a few minutes thereafter reached the “Four Corners,” the intersection of the two principal streets of Dorfield. But on the way they had sold old Jonathan Dodd, who happened to be in the car and was overawed by the display of red-white-and-blue, two hundred dollars’ worth of bonds. As for old man Dodd, he realized he was trapped and bought his limit with a sigh of resignation.

  As they separated at the Four Corners, each to follow her appointed route, many surprised, if not startled, citizens regarded the Liberty Girls with approving eyes. They were pretty girls, all of them, and their silken costumes were really becoming. The patriots gazed admiringly; the more selfish citizens gave a little shiver of dismay and scurried off to escape meeting these aggressive ones, whose gorgeous banners frankly proclaimed their errand.

  Mary Louise entered the bank on the corner and made inquiry for Mr. Jaswell, the president.

  “We’re off at last, sir,” she said, smiling at his bewildered looks, “and we girls are determined to make the Dorfield people do their full duty. May we depend upon your bank to fulfill your promises, and carry those bond buyers who wish to make time payments?”

  “To be sure, my dear,” replied the banker. “I’d no idea you young ladies were to wear uniforms. But you certainly look fascinating, if you’re a fair sample of the others, and I don’t see how anyone can refuse to back up our girls in their patriotic ‘drive.’ God bless you, Mary Louise, and help you to achieve your noble object.”

  There were many offices in the building, above the bank, and the girl visited every one of them. Her appearance, garbed in the national colors and bearing her banner, was a sign of conquest, for it seemed to these busy men as if Uncle Sam himself was backing this crusade and all their latent patriotism was stirred to the depths. So they surrendered at discretion and signed for the bonds.

  Mary Louise was modest and sweet in demeanor; her pleas were as pleasant as they were persuasive; there was nothing virulent or dominant in her attitude. But when she said: “Really, Mr. So-and-so, you ought to take more bonds than that; you can afford it and our country needs the money,” the argument was generally effective, and when she had smilingly pinned the bond button on a man’s coat and passed on to interview others, she left him wondering why he had bought more bonds than he ever had intended to, or even provoked with himself that he had
subscribed at all. These were the people who had generally resisted all former pleadings of the regular committee and had resolved to ignore the bond sale altogether. But perhaps their chagrin was equalled by their satisfaction in having been won over by a pretty girl, whose manner and appearance were alike irresistible.

  The men of Dorfield are a fair sample of men everywhere. At this period the full meaning of the responsibilities we had assumed in this tremendous struggle was by no means fully realized. The war was too far away, and life at home was still running in its accustomed grooves. They could not take the European war to themselves, nor realize that it might sweep away their prosperity, their liberties — even their homes. Fear had not yet been aroused; pity for our suffering and hard-pressed allies was still lightly considered; the war had not struck home to the hearts of the people as it has since. I doubt if even Mary Louise fully realized the vital importance of the work she had undertaken.

  When the Liberty Girls met at Colonel Hathaway’s for a light luncheon, their eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm and their cheeks rosy from successful effort. Their individual sales varied, of course, for some were more tactful and winning than others, but all had substantial results to report. “We’ve taken Dorfield by storm!” was their exultant cry.

  “Altogether,” said Mary Louise, figuring up the amounts, “we’ve sold thirty-two thousand dollars’ worth of bonds this morning. That’s encouraging for three hours’ work, but it’s not enough to satisfy us. We must put in a busy afternoon and try to get a total of at least one hundred thousand by to-night. To-morrow we must do better than that. Work as late as you can, girls, and at eight o’clock we will meet again at Alora’s house and compare results.”

  The girls needed no urging to resume their work, for already they had gained confidence in their ability and were inspired to renewed effort.

  Mary Louise had optimistic plans for that afternoon’s work. She first visited the big flour mill, where she secured an interview with Mr. Chisholme, the president and general manager.