crime. It would be dreadful to say:'You're _all_ yellow; go to thunder!'"
"Yes; I believe you're right," approved the other girl. "That is, yourtheory is correct, but the wicked sometimes refuse to reform."
"Usually the fault of the reformers, my dear. But suppose we redeem afew of them, isn't it worth while? Now, let me see. Here's a washwomanwho says the Kaiser is a gentleman, and a street-car driver who saysit's a rich man's war. No use bothering with such people in our presentstate of blind groping. And here's the list that you, yourself, gave tome: One Silas Herring, a wholesale grocer. I'm going to see him. He's abig, successful man, and being opposed to the administration isdangerous. Herring is worth investigating, and with him is associatedProfessor John Dyer, superintendent of schools."
"Oh, Professor Dyer is all right," said Mary Louise hastily. "It was hewho helped bring Mr. Herring to time, and afterward he took Gran'paJim's place on the Bond Committee and solicited subscriptions."
"Did he get any?"
"Any what?"
"Subscriptions."
"--I believe so. Really, I don't know."
"Well, _I_ know," said Josie, "for I've inspected the records. Yourprofessor--who, by the way, is only a professor by courtesy and apolitician by profession--worked four days on the bond sale and didn'tturn in a single subscription. He had a lot of wealthy men on his listand approached them in such a manner that they all positively declinedto buy bonds. Dyer's activities kept these men from investing in bondswhen, had they been properly approached, they would doubtless haveresponded freely."
"Good gracious! Are you sure, Josie?"
"I'm positive. I've got a cross opposite the name of Professor JohnDyer, and I'm going to know more about him--presently. His bosom chumis the Honorable Andrew Duncan, a man with an honest Scotch name butonly a thirty-second or so of Scotch blood in his veins. His mother wasa German and his grandmother Irish and his greatgrandmother a Spanishgipsy."
"How did you learn all that, Josie?"
"By making inquiries. Duncan was born in Dorfield and his father wasborn in the county. He's a typical American--a product of the greatnational melting-pot--but no patriot because he has no sympathy for anyof the European nations at war, or even with the war aims of his nativeland. He's a selfish, scheming, unprincipled politician; anoffice-holder ever since he could vote; a man who would sacrifice allAmerica to further his own personal ends."
"Then, you think Mr. Duncan may--might be--is--"
"No," said Josie, "I don't. The man might instigate a crime andencourage it, in a subtle and elusive way, but he's too shrewd toperpetrate a crime himself. I wouldn't be surprised if Duncan couldname the man--or the band of traitors--we're looking for, if he choseto, but you may rest assured he has not involved his own personality inany scheme to balk the government."
"I can't understand that sort of person," said Mary. Louise,plaintively.
"It's because you haven't studied the professional politician. He hasbeen given too much leeway heretofore, but his days, I firmly believe,are now numbered," Josie answered. "Now, here's my excuse forinvestigating Silas Herring and his two cronies, Dyer and Duncan. Allthree of them happen to be political bosses in this section. It ispretty generally known that they are not in sympathy with PresidentWilson and the administration. They are shrewd enough to know that thepopularity of the war and the President's eloquent messages havecarried the country by storm. So they cannot come right out into theopen with their feelings. At the same time, they can feel themselveslosing control of the situation. In fact, the Herring gang is fearfulthat at the coming elections they will be swept aside and replaced without-and-out loyal supporters of the President. So they're going to tryto arouse sentiment against the administration and against the war, inorder to head off the threatened landslide. Dyer hoped to block thesale of Liberty Bonds, blinding folks to his intent by subscribing forthem himself; but you girls foiled that scheme by your enthusiastic'drive.' What the other conspirators have done, I don't know, but Iimagine their energies will not be squelched by one small defeat. Idon't expect to land any of the three in jail, but I think they allought to be behind the bars, and if I shadow them successfully, one orthe other may lead me to their tools or confederates--the ones directlyguilty of issuing the disloyal circulars and perhaps of placing thebomb that damaged the airplane works and murdered some of itsemployes."
Mary Louise was pale with horror when Josie finished her earnest andconvincing statement. She regarded her friend's talent with profoundadmiration. Nevertheless, the whole matter was becoming so deep, soinvolved that she could only think of it with a shudder.
"I'm almost sorry," said the girl, regretfully, "that I ever mixed upin this dreadful thing."
"I'm not sorry," returned Josie. "Chasing traitors isn't thepleasantest thing in the world, even for a regular detective, but it'sa duty I owe my country and I'm sufficiently interested to probe theaffair to the extent of my ability. If I fail, nothing is lost, and ifI win I'll have done something worth while. Here's another name on thelist of suspects you gave me--Annie Boyle, the hotel-keeper'sdaughter."
"Don't bother about Annie, for goodness' sake," exclaimed Mary Louise."She hasn't the brains or an opportunity to do any harm, so you'dbetter class her with Kasker and the butcher."
But Josie shook her head.
"There's a cross opposite her name," said she. "I don't intend toshuffle Annie Boyle into the discard until I know more about her."
CHAPTER XIIJOSIE BUYS A DESK
The "Liberty Girls' Shop" was proving a veritable mint. Expenses werepractically nothing, so all the money received could be consideredclear profit. It was amusing to observe the people who frequented theshop, critically examining the jumble of wares displayed, wondering whohad donated this or that and meantime searching for something thatcould be secured at a "bargain." Most of the shrewd women had an ideathat these young girls would be quite ignorant of values and might markthe articles at prices far below their worth, but the "values" of suchgoods could only be conjectural, and therefore the judgment of theolder women was no more reliable than that of the girls. They mightthink they were getting bargains, and perhaps were, but that wasproblematic.
The one outstanding fact was that people were buying a lot of thingsthey had no use for, merely because they felt they were getting themcheaply and that their money would be devoted to a good cause.
Mrs. Brown, who had given the Shop a lot of discarded articles,purchased several discarded articles donated by Mrs. Smith, herneighbor, while Mrs. Smith eagerly bought the cast-off wares of Mrs.Brown. Either would have sneered at the bare idea of taking "truck"which the other had abandoned, had the medium of exchange not been thepopular Liberty Girls' Shop. For it was a popular shop; the "bestfamilies" patronized it; society women met there to chat and exchangegossip; it was considered a mark of distinction and highly patriotic tosay: "Oh, yes; I've given the dear girls many really valuable things tosell. They're doing such noble work, you know."
Even the eminent Mrs. Charleworth, premier aristocrat of Dorfield,condescended to visit the Shop, not once but many times. She would sitin one of the chairs in the rear of the long room and hold open court,while her sycophants grouped around her, hanging on her words. For Mrs.Charleworth's status was that of social leader; she was a middle-agedwidow, very handsome, wore wonderful creations in dress, was ofcharming personality, was exceedingly wealthy and much traveled. Whenshe visited New York the metropolitan journals took care to relate theinteresting fact. Mrs. Charleworth was quite at home in London, Paris,Berlin and Vienna; she was visiting friends in Dresden when theEuropean war began, and by advice of Herr Zimmerman, of the GermanForeign Office, who was in some way a relative, had come straight hometo avoid embarrassment. This much was generally known.
It had been a matter of public information in the little town for ageneration that Dick Charleworth had met the lady in Paris, when shewas at the height of her social glory, and had won the hand of thebeautiful girl and brought her to Dorfield as hi
s wife. But the wealthyyoung manufacturer did not long survive his marriage. On his death, hiswidow inherited his fortune and continued to reside in the handsomeresidence he had built, although, until the war disrupted Europeansociety, she passed much time abroad.
The slight taint of German blood in Mrs. Charleworth's veins was notregarded seriously in Dorfield. Her mother had been a Russian courtbeauty; she spoke several languages fluently; she was discreet inspeech and negative in sympathy concerning the