“No girl is supposed to know the difference between a bomb and a cannon-ball — or projectile — or whatever it is,” was her friend’s comment, when Josie had reached the scene in the manager’s office, “and any man who is a German and acts queerly is surely open to suspicion. Go on, Josie; what happened next?”
Even Mary Louise was startled and horrified at the terrible retribution that had overtaken Professor Dyer, although Josie’s story had aroused her indignation toward him and prepared her for the man’s final infamous attempt to wreck the steel plant.
“And what about Tom Linnet?” she asked.
“Chief Farnum is to arrest him to-night,” said Josie. “He will confess everything, of course, and then the whole plot will be made public.”
“Poor Mrs. Dyer!” sighed Mary Louise.
But fate decreed a different ending to the night’s tragedy. When the police tried to arrest Tom Linnet the young man was not to be found. He had not bought the cigar store, but with what funds remained to him, he had absconded to parts unknown.
Chief Farnum wired his description to all parts of the country. Meantime, on the morning after the affair at the steel works, an earnest conference was held between Mr. Colton, Colonel Hathaway, Josie O’Gorman, Mrs. Charleworth, the Chief of Police and the two secret service agents. At this conference it was deemed inadvisable to acquaint the public with the truth about John Dyer’s villainy. The government would be fully informed, of course, but it seemed best not to tell the people of Dorfield that a supposedly respectable citizen had been in the pay of the Kaiser’s agents. It would be likely to make them suspicious of one another and have a bad influence generally. The criminal had paid the penalty of his crimes. The murders he had committed and attempted to commit were avenged.
So it was announced that the school superintendent had been killed by an accidental explosion at the munition works, and the newspapers stated that Mrs. Dyer did not desire a public funeral. Indeed, she was too overwhelmed by the tragedy to express any desire regarding the funeral but left it all to Colonel Hathaway and Mr. Colton, who volunteered to attend to the arrangements. The burial was very unostentatious and the widow received much sympathy and did not suffer in the esteem of the community. Mrs. Dyer, in fact, was never told of her husband’s dishonor and so mourned him sincerely.
Immediately following the conference referred to, Josie brought the Chief of Police and the secret service men to her room and in their presence dragged the old pedestal-desk from her closet. Mary Louise, who had been admitted, exclaimed in surprise:
“Why, Josie! I thought you sent the desk to Washington.”
“No,” answered Josie, “I merely shipped an empty box. I knew very well that Dyer would try to get back the desk, hoping I had not discovered its secret, so I deceived him and gained time by proving that I had sent a box home by freight.”
“That explains his decision to take the projectile to Washington,” commented Detective Crissey, “he believed he could kill two birds with one stone — get back his papers and earn a big fee from Mrs. Charleworth.”
“Also,” added Josie, “he would be able to give the German Master Spy full information concerning the projectile, and so reap another reward. But all his diabolical schemes were frustrated by Joe Langley’s bullet.”
“Well, here’s the desk,” said Chief Farnum, “but where are those important papers, Miss O’Gorman?”
“And what do they prove?” added Crissey.
Josie slid back the panel in the square pedestal, disclosing the two compartments filled with papers. These she allowed the police and the detectives to read, arid they not only proved that John Dyer was in the pay of an organized band of German spies having agents in Washington, New York and Chicago, but Crissey was confident the notes, contracts and agreements would furnish clues leading to the discovery and apprehension of the entire band. So the papers were placed in his charge to take to Washington, and their importance was a further argument for secrecy concerning John Dyer’s death.
“So far as I am concerned,” Josie said afterward to Colonel Hathaway and Mary Louise, “the spy case is ended. When they arrest Tom Linnet they will be able to prove, from the scraps of paper I found in the printing room of the hotel, that Linnet printed the circulars from copy furnished by Dyer, and that Dyer and Linnet together directed the envelopes, probably in the still hours of the morning at the hotel desk, where they were not likely to be disturbed. The circulars may not be considered legally treasonable, but the fact that Linnet personally placed the bomb that destroyed the airplane works will surely send him to the scaffold.”
“I suppose you will be called as a witness,” suggested Mary Louise, “because you are the only one who overheard his verbal confession of the crime.”
“It wont take much to make Linnet confess,” predicted Josie. “He is yellow all through, or he wouldn’t have undertaken such dastardly work for the sake of money. His refusal to undertake the second job was mere cowardice, not repentance. I understand that sort of criminal pretty well, and I assure you he will confess as soon as he is captured.”
But, somewhat to the astonishment of the officers, Tom Linnet managed to evade capture. They found his trail once or twice, and lost it again. After a time they discovered he had escaped into Mexico; afterward they heard of a young man of his description in Argentine; finally he disappeared altogether.
The arms of the law are long and strong, far-reaching and mercilessly persistent. They may embrace Tom Linnet yet, but until now he has miraculously avoided them.
CHAPTER XXV
DECORATING
Colonel Hathaway and Mary Louise were walking down the street one day when they noticed that the front of Jake Kasker’s Clothing Emporium was fairly covered with American flags. Even the signs were hidden by a fluttering display of the Stars and Stripes.
“I wonder what this means?” said the colonel.
“Let’s go in and inquire,” proposed Mary Louise. “I don’t suppose the man has forgiven me yet for suspecting his loyalty, but you’ve always defended him, Gran’pa Jim, so he will probably tell you why he is celebrating.”
They entered the store and Kasker came forward to meet them.
“What’s the meaning of all the flags, Jake?” asked the colonel.
“Didn’t you hear?” said Kasker. “My boy’s been shot — my little Jakie!” Tears came to his eyes.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Mary Louise, with ready sympathy; “I hope he — he isn’t dead?”
“No,” said Kasker, wiping his eyes, “not that, thank God. A shell splinter took out a piece of his leg — my little Jakie’s leg! — and he’s in a hospital at Soissons. His letter says in a few weeks he can go back to his company. I got a letter from his captain, too. The captain says Jakie is a good soldier and fights like wild-cats. That’s what he says of Jakie!”
“Still,” said Colonel Hathaway, with a puzzled look, “I do not quite understand why you should decorate so profusely on account of so sad an event.”
“Sad!” exclaimed the clothing man, “not a bit. That’s glory, the way I look at it, Colonel. If my Jakie’s blood is spilled for his country, and he can go back and spill it again, it makes great honor for the name of Kasker. Say, once they called me pro-German, ‘cause I said I hated the war. Don’t my Jakie’s blood put my name on America’s honor roll? I’m pretty proud of Jakie,” he wiped his eyes again; “I’ll give him an interest in the business, if he comes back. And if he don’t — if those cursed Germans put an end to him — then folks will say, ‘See Jake Kasker over there? Well, he gave his son for his country — his only son.’ Seems to me, Colonel, that evens the score. America gives us Germans protection and prosperity, and we give our blood to defend America’s honor. I’m sorry I couldn’t find a place for any more flags.”
The colonel and Mary Louise were both a little awed, but as Kasker accompanied them to the door, they strove to express their sympathy and approval. As they parted, however, the man lea
ned over and whispered: “Just the same, I hate the war. But, if it has to be, let’s stand together to fight and win it!”
* * * * * * * *
“Gran’pa Jim,” said Mary Louise, when they were on the street again, “I’m ashamed. I once told you I loved you better than my country, but Jake Kasker loves his country better than his son.”
CHAPTER XXVI
KEEPING BUSY
The Liberty Girls were forced to abandon their Shop when a substantial offer was made by a business firm to rent the store they had occupied. However, they were then, near the end of their resources, with depleted stock, for they had begged about all the odds and ends people would consent to part with. What goods remained to them were of inferior worth and slow to dispose of, so they concluded their enterprise with a “grand auction,” Peter Conant acting as auctioneer, and cleaned up the entire stock “in a blaze of glory,” as Mary Louise enthusiastically described the event.
The venture had been remarkably successful and many a soldier had cause to bless the Liberty Girls’ Shop for substantial comforts provided from its funds.
“But what can we do now,” inquired Mary Louise anxiously as the six captains met with Irene one afternoon following the closing of the shop. “We must keep busy, of course. Can’t someone think of something?”
One and all had been thinking on that subject, it seemed. Various proposals were advanced, none of which, however, seemed entirely practical until Irene said:
“We mustn’t lose our reputation for originality, you know, nor must we interfere with those who are doing war relief work as well, if not much better, than we could. I’ve pondered the case some, during the past few days, and in reading of the progress of events I find that quite the most important thing on the government programme, at present, is the conservation of foods. ‘Food will win the war’ is the latest slogan, and anyone who can help Mr. Hoover will be doing the utmost for our final victory.”
“That’s all very well, Irene,” said Alora, “but I’m sure we are all as careful as possible to conserve food.”
“Don’t ask us to eat any less,” pleaded Edna, “for my appetite rebels as it is.”
“I don’t see how we Liberty Girls can possibly help Mr. Hoover more than everyone else is doing,” remarked Laura.
“Well, I’ve an idea we can,” replied Irene. “But this is just another case where I can only plan, and you girls must execute. Now, listen to my proposition. The most necessary thing to conserve, it seems, is wheat.”
“So it seems, dear.”
“People are eating large quantities of wheat flour simply because they don’t know what else to eat,” Irene continued. “Now, corn, properly prepared, is far more delicious and equally as nourishing as wheat. The trouble is that people don’t know how to use corn-meal and corn-flour to the best advantage.”
“That is true; and they’re not likely to learn in time to apply the knowledge usefully,” commented Mary Louise.
“Not unless you girls get busy and teach them,” admitted Irene, while a smile went round the circle. “Don’t laugh, girls. You are all very fair cooks, and if properly trained in the methods of preparing corn for food, you could easily teach others, and soon all Dorfield would be eating corn and conserving wheat. That would be worth while, wouldn’t it?”
“But who’s to train us, and how could we manage to train others?” asked Mary Louise.
“The proposition sounds interesting, Irene, and if carried through would doubtless be valuable, but is it practical?”
“Let us see,” was the reply. “Some time ago I read of the wonderful success of Mrs. Manton in preparing corn for food. She’s one of the most famous professional cooks in America and her name is already a household word. We use her cook-book every day. Now, Mrs. Manton has been teaching classes in Cleveland, and I wrote her and asked what she would charge to come here and teach the Liberty Girls the practical methods of preparing her numerous corn recipes. Here’s her answer, girls. She wants her expenses and one hundred dollars for two weeks’ work, and she will come next week if we telegraph her at once.”
They considered and discussed this proposition very seriously.
“At the Masonic Temple,” said Mary Louise, “there is a large and fully equipped kitchen, adjoining the lodge room, and it is not in use except on special occasions. Gran’pa Jim is a high Mason, and so is Alora’s father. Perhaps they could secure permission for us to use the lodge kitchen for our class in cookery.”
The colonel and Jason Jones, being consulted, promised the use of the kitchen and highly approved the plan of the Liberty Girls. Mrs. Manton was telegraphed to come to Dorfield and the cookery class was soon formed. Alora confessed she had no talent whatever for cooking, but all the other five were ready to undertake the work and a selection was made from among the other Liberty Girls — of the rank and file — which brought the total number of culinary endeavorers up to fifteen — as large a class as Mrs. Manton was able to handle efficiently.
While these fifteen were being trained, by means of practical daily demonstration, in the many appetizing preparations for the table from corn-meal and corn-flour, Alora and one or two others daily visited the homes of Dorfield and left samples of bread, buns, cookies, cakes, desserts and other things that had come fresh from the ovens and range of the cooking-school. At the same time an offer was made to teach the family cook — whether mistress or servant — in this patriotic branch of culinary art, and such offers were usually accepted with eagerness, especially after tasting the delicious corn dainties.
When Mrs. Manton left Dorfield, after two weeks of successful work, she left fifteen Liberty Girls fully competent to teach others how to prepare every one of her famous corn recipes. And these fifteen, divided into “shifts” and with several large kitchens at their disposal, immediately found themselves besieged by applicants for instruction. Before winter set in, all Dorfield, as predicted by Irene, was eating corn, and liking it better than wheat, and in proof of their success, the Liberty Girls received a highly complimentary letter from Mr. Hoover, thanking them for their help in the time of the nation’s greatest need. A fee, sufficient to cover the cost of the material used, had been exacted from all those willing and able to pay for instruction, so no expense was involved in this work aside from the charges of Mrs. Manton, which were cared for by voluntary subscription on the part of a few who were interested in the girls’ patriotic project.
Another thing the Liberty Girls did was to start “Community Concerts” one evening each week, which were held in various churches and attended by throngs of men, women and children who joined lustily in the singing of patriotic and popular songs. This community singing became immensely popular and did much to promote patriotic fervor as well as to entertain those in attendance.
And so Mary Louise’s Liberty Girls, at the time this story ends, are still active workers in the cause of liberty, justice and democracy, and will continue to support their country’s welfare as long as they can be of use.
“We’re a real part of the war,” Mary Louise has often told her co-workers, “and I’m sure that in the final day of glorious victory our girls will be found to have played no unimportant part.”
THE END
MARY LOUISE ADOPTS A SOLDIER
Baum apparently wrote only a fragment of Mary Louise Adopts a Soldier, finished by an unknown author. Reilly & Britton published the fifth volume of the series in 1919, the year of Baum’s death. The series continued with five more books, written by Emma Speed Samson, all under the pseudonym, Edith Van Dyne. By the final two books, the girl agent, Josie O’Gorman, rather than Mary Louise, became the focus of the series.
A first edition copy of ‘Mary Louise Adopts a Soldier’
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
; CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER I
MARY LOUISE CONSIDERS THE SITUATION
“Grandpa Jim,” said Mary Louise one May morning as they sat together at the breakfast table, “I see the Dorfield Regiment is due to arrive home to-day or to-morrow.”
“So I see,” replied the old Colonel, “if we may rightly call it the ‘Dorfield’ Regiment. The newspapers don’t mention the fact, but it takes in the whole surrounding country, because there were not enough Dorfield boys to fill the ranks completely and so we took all who applied. I’m afraid you’ll find many unfamiliar faces among the ranks.”
“Still,” said the girl, “there will be some friends anyhow, and the very fact that this is the Dorfield Regiment should arouse our loyal enthusiasm. Why, I’ve followed them all through the war, and somehow this practice has almost made it seem that the whole Dorfield Regiment is a sort of personal possession.”
“I feel much the same way,” said Colonel Hathaway, composedly turning over the Dorfield Gazette. “This is not a delightful country to demobilize in — if we should judge by the Civil War, in which I was somewhat more interested. The regiment may not be free to disorganize for a week, or a month, according to the whim of the War Department.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 625
