CHAPTER XV
Rebecca Mary had walked over to the farmhouse for Joan, but Joan wasfeeding the chickens and just couldn't come at once, so Rebecca Mary satdown on the steps and talked with Mrs. Erickson until the last downychicken had been given its dinner.
"My, Miss Wyman, I expect you'll be glad when they're through their workhere and you can leave," Mrs. Erickson remarked sympathetically, as sheoffered Rebecca Mary a plate of crispy flaky gooseberry tarts. "It musthave been pretty hard to start for a wedding and find yourself in jail.I know how it is with me. I never was much of a gadabout, but, landknows, I'll be glad enough when the guards are taken off, and I can comeand go as I please."
"It is rather horrid," Rebecca Mary carelessly agreed as she ate agooseberry tart. "But I'm not having such a bad time really, Mrs.Erickson. It might be a lot worse."
"I wish I could look at it like that. But I ain't one to dwell much onthe cheerful side of things. What's the use, I say, when there's somuch that ain't cheerful. I suppose the old Major knows what he's about,but there's queer things going on in Riverside, or I miss my guess."
Rebecca Mary looked up quickly. "What do you mean?" she wanted to knowat once. Mrs. Erickson looked as if she meant such a lot.
Mrs. Erickson drew a sigh from the sole of her stout shoes and movedcloser to Rebecca Mary, quite ready and willing to tell her what shemeant.
"Well," she said in a whisper which blew a lock of Rebecca Mary's yellowbrown hair across her face, "as I understand it, Major Martingalebrought all these men down here to work on his experiment and locked usup with them so he wouldn't be disturbed or interrupted and so hewouldn't have any Germans nosing around. Wouldn't you think, then, thathe wouldn't want any Germans here? But last night her father," shenodded to Joan, who was vainly trying to divide the dinner evenly amongthe hungry chickens, "was over here talking to one of the mechanics,George Weiss. He took him down behind the shed there and talked to himin German. They didn't know I heard them, but I did. There isn't muchthat goes on around Riverside that I don't hear something of. Ericksonsaid talking German don't mean anything but it does to me. Don't it toyou?"
"Not much." Rebecca Mary helped herself to another tart. "My word, butthese are good, Mrs. Erickson. No, I don't think it means anything forMr. Befort to talk German. He was brought up practically in Germany."And she told Mrs. Erickson of the Luxembourg town which was just acrossthe river from Rhenish Prussia. "He hates the Germans," she added, andher white teeth closed over the crispy flaky tart.
"He didn't sound as if he hated the Germans the way he was talkingGerman. Maybe you're right, Miss Wyman, you see more of him than I do,but seems to me if I was trying to keep what I was doing from theGermans I wouldn't have no Germans working with me. Major Martingaleoughta know his business, but I dunno----" She shook her head dolefully."And more than once, Miss Wyman," she went on in almost a whisper, "I'veseen Mr. Befort coming up from the river at sunrise. What's he doingdown there I'd like to know? Why ain't he in bed and asleep like therest of folks? Swimming may be excuse enough for you but it ain't forme. I don't say he ain't what he says he is but I must say that underthe circumstances it's mighty queer. I said to George Weiss myself,said I, 'You got a name that sounds like sauerkraut to me,' said I.'What side was you on in the late war?' I said. And he looked at me andlaughed and said, 'Now Mrs. Erickson,' said he, 'you know very well thatI was one of Uncle Sam's boys. It wasn't my fault if I didn't get toFrance. Maybe my name does have a German sound but the father what gaveit to me didn't stay in Germany. He brought it to America, and his boysare a hundred per cent American,' he said. But, land, you dunno whetherto believe him or not. A man'll say 'most anything he wants to." And shedrew a second sigh from the sole of her thick shoe.
Rebecca Mary should have gasped, but she didn't. She giggled. "You don'tlook on the cheerful side of things, do you, Mrs. Erickson?"
"Well, it ain't so easy to be cheerful when you know the world as itreally is. I've had some experience with these I. W. W. Bolsheviks, MissWyman. Not here at Riverside. Land, no! Erickson keeps too good a watchon things, and our men have been working here long enough to know whichside of their bread's buttered. But I got a brother up in North Dakotaand last summer his crops was set on fire and a new thrashing machineruined by putting nails and other truck into it. I dunno who I dotrust, Miss Wyman, but it ain't a man who talks enemy language and actswhat I can't understand. I don't blame the Major for being afraid ofI. W. W.'s and anarchists, but what I can't see is the way he trustssome folks. My brother said the Germans was back of all the trouble inNorth Dakota, and he's a truthful man if there is one. Do you knowanything about this great work we're doing here, Miss Wyman?"
"Not a thing." Rebecca Mary looked a trifle puzzled. She was a trifledazed, also, at the flood of words which had poured from Mrs. Erickson'slips.
"No more do I. And Erickson don't know anything or I'd know. More'nonce I've slipped down beside that shop hoping to pick up a word, butthey don't use language I can understand, and what they're working ondon't look like nothing to me through the window. I don't dare go veryclose for if the old Major'd see me he'd be sure to give me a piece ofhis mind. He's got a harsh tongue when things don't go his way. Ideclare, Miss Wyman, when I got so much to worry me I almost wish Mr.Cabot hadn't been so free with Riverside. I hope he don't find himselfwishing that, too." But she smacked her lips and there was a greedy lookin her eyes which flatly contradicted her words. Rebecca Mary jumped toher feet and brushed the crumbs of crispy flaky tart from her fingers."It's easy to make mountains out of mole hills, Mrs. Erickson," she saidquickly. "But it's rather a waste of time. Major Martingale knows whathe is doing. He isn't blind nor deaf. Come, Joan. Haven't you finishedyet? We'll be late for our own dinner if you don't hurry."
"I've just finished." Joan held up the empty pan and spoon. "It's suchfun, Miss Wyman. Isn't it kind of Mrs. Erickson to let me feed them? ButI do think she should teach them better manners. That big white roosterwants to eat it all. If I hadn't driven him away the weeny little oneswouldn't have had a bite."
Mrs. Erickson snorted. "The big white rooster is just like some folks,"she told Joan. "And if you can teach him table manners, Miss Joan,you're welcome to the job. I've got enough on my hands without showingroosters how to be polite."
"Isn't she a funny woman, Miss Wyman?" Joan asked when they had closedthe farmhouse gate behind them. "She is always asking me about daddy.Every day she asks me if he is an American citizen or if he isn't. Andwhen I asked daddy he said he couldn't be an American citizen becausehe isn't through with being another kind of a citizen yet."
"He's a Luxembourger, you know, Joan. Why didn't you tell Mrs. Ericksonthat?"
"I did, and she just sniffed and said she never heard of such a country.She sniffs awfully funny, Miss Wyman, but she's kind, too. She gave me adoughnut and a piece of cheese as well as a gooseberry tart. She saidthey'd probably make me sick but I could eat them if I wanted to. And Iwanted to, and I wasn't sick. She makes awfully good doughnuts. I thinkshe must be a good cook. The chickens liked their dinner awfully much."
"Positive proof that Mrs. Erickson is the perfect cook. None but thebest would do for a flock of hungry chickens. Joan, I'll race you to thehouse. Wait a minute. Now, one--two--three--Go!"
And they were off, down the driveway, by the lilac bushes to the old oakwhere Peter and Wallie, on their way from the shop, stretched a barrieracross the walk.
"You must be in a hurry," grinned Peter. "Hold on and we'll ride withyou, but you must have some regard to the speed limit."
"Tired?" They did look hot and tired. "It must be horrid to spend aperfectly gorgeous day like this in a stuffy shop with a gasolineengine that says nothing but puff-puff. Aren't you almost through?"
"We'll never be through," moaned Wallie. "I expect the Major will keepus here on the job until we are gray and tottering. You'll be a dearlittle old lady then, Miss Wyman."
"Silly!" Rebecca Mary tilted her nose. "But, honest, won't you bet
hrough soon? Granny and I have been perfect saints. We haven't made anyfuss at all, but we can't stay here forever. Of course, I don't knowanything about your great experiment----"
"It is great, all right!" interrupted Peter. "The more we work at it themore sure I am of that. I don't wonder old Germany moved heaven andearth to get hold of it."
When Peter spoke of Germany Rebecca Mary remembered Mrs. Erickson'sgloomy fears and she asked impulsively; "Has Germany given up trying toget your wonderful secret?"
The two men stared at her in surprise.
"Don't you know that's why the Major brought the whole works down here?"Peter asked. "In Waloo the Huns made trouble more than once, through themechanics, you know, regular bolshevik work. You'd never believe howsly they were. That's why Joshua Cabot turned this place over to theMajor, and why the rule was made to bar people, and why you are here toshed light on our dark way. The Major isn't taking any chances of havinganything stolen from him nor of any dirty sabotage, either, you maybelieve me. Every man here had to pass a pretty rigid examination thatwent back to his father and his grandfather."
"Every man?" Rebecca Mary could not help but put a little dash ofsignificance into those two words.
"Every one," Peter told her stoutly. "It is only the women who got inwithout. When I drove you in here I hadn't any idea how necessarysecrecy was. You should have heard the wigging the Major gave me.Perhaps you have been bored but you've been a life-preserver just thesame, hasn't she, Wallie?"
"Sure thing!" Wallie gave a strong and hearty indorsement to Peter'sstatement that Rebecca Mary had been a life-preserver. "I wish we couldtell you more about this work, Miss Wyman, you'd be interested, butwe're on oath, you know. You'll just have to trust us and wait."
"M-m," murmured Rebecca Mary. It is so much easier to ask for trust andpatience than it is to furnish it. "You are sure you can trust yourmen?"
"Why not?" Peter's voice was sharp and quick. "Why not, Rebecca Mary?What do you mean?"
Rebecca Mary laughed uneasily. "I don't suppose it is anything but----"And she told them what Mrs. Erickson had told her, that Frederick Befortand George Weiss had been heard talking German behind the Ericksonwoodshed, and Mrs. Erickson feared the worst.
"Just like a woman," jeered Peter. "You take my word for it, RebeccaMary. I guess I know as much about it as old Mother Erickson. Befort isall right. So is George Weiss. I suppose if I were to go back of thechicken run and murmur 'hickory dickory dock' Mrs. Erickson would swearI was a red Russian. You just keep your hair on, Rebecca Mary, andlisten to me. Some day you'll know that I'm right, won't she, Wallie?"
"Sure thing," Wallie said again. "We didn't run any chance of a leak,Miss Wyman. Believe me, we have picked men."
Rebecca Mary looked from Wallie to Peter. They nodded to her as if toemphasize what they had told her. Surely they must know more than Mrs.Erickson, who had only been able to peek through the shop window. Mrs.Erickson had told her that she always looked on the dark side of thingsand naturally she had hunted for a dark side to the great experiment. Itwas foolish for Rebecca Mary to look at the dark side when Peter andWallie were insisting that there was such a bright and sunny side.
"Mrs. Erickson makes awful good gooseberry tarts and doughnuts," Petersaid gently. "But she hasn't much of a record as a detective."
"I didn't really think she had. I'm not a complete idiot," Rebecca Maryexclaimed with considerable scorn. "But I thought it was only right totell you what I heard. Of course, I know that Major Martingale didn'ttake any chances. Germany couldn't get a clue now to what you aredoing."
"Huh," grunted Peter. "I wouldn't go quite as far as that. I thinkGermany will still make a try, don't you, Wallie?"
"I do, but don't let's talk about Germany as if the war was still on;let's guess what Ben is going to give us for dinner. I'm so hungry Icould eat you, Miss Wyman. You'd better not come near me garnished withany bunch of mint."
"Silly!" Rebecca Mary's nose was elevated disdainfully. "Well, you can'tsay I have any secrets from you. And Ben is going to give you roastbeef for your dinner, Mr. Marshall. I heard him tell Joan."
"Trust the kid to find out. I rather thought we might have lamb." AndWallie grinned impudently.