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CHAPTER VI
MESSING WITH A BRIGADIER
“THE car has gone?”
“Yes, Mrs. Gray. One of our men drivers took it out under orders this morning,” the sergeant informed her.
“Whose orders?”
“Captain Grant’s.”
“No provision then has been made for a car for me?” questioned Grace.
“Not that I am aware of. Sorry, but I can’t help it. It’s orders.”
“I understand, Sergeant. I think a hike will do myself and my friend good.”
“Would you ride on a truck?”
“Of course if necessary, but I think we prefer to walk, thank you. I always did enjoy hiking. You don’t know whether or not the car has gone on?”
“It went on less than five minutes before you came out. Four women in it, the same ones you carried before.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. May I offer you a package of cigarettes?”
He said she might, and thanked her, a broad grin on his face.
“The old party hasn’t passed out a thing since we started,” he informed her.
“I know it. She informs me that none will be distributed from the canteen until we reach the Rhine. Thank you very much for your kindness.” Grace returned to their cellar, where she found Elfreda awaiting her with more or less impatience. Their mess kits and other supplies were packed.
“Where is the car? I didn’t hear you drive up,” questioned Miss Briggs.
“Mrs. Chadsey Smythe took the car and a soldier driver, and went on, I am informed.”
“What?”
“You and I are going to enjoy a lovely twelve-mile walk this morning, and I know it will do us a world of good. We have been riding too much since we came over here.”
“I call that an outrage!” expostulated J. Elfreda. “What about all this stuff?”
“We will carry our own kits. Our bags and what little government property we have here we will try to get on a truck. The rest will be easy. I had an interview with Madame in her cellar this morning. I tried to come to an amicable settlement of our difficulties, but she threatened me and drove me out. It is quite evident that General Gordon has not taken action, as he said he would. However, I feel that we are going to be all right and that we shall arrive at the Rhine flying high.”
“Tell me about it,” urged Elfreda.
Grace did so, her companion listening with narrowed eyes.
“This passes all comprehension, Grace. I can’t believe that the woman is so bad as she would have us think her. You must admit that she is a good American else she would not be here, suffering all the discomforts of army life.”
“That is the way I have reasoned it out, Elfreda, and that is why I went to see her this morning, hoping that after yesterday she might have seen a light – instead she saw red,” added Grace, smiling up at her companion. “Let’s get our luggage out and I will look up one of our unit’s wagons. Perhaps we may arrange our day’s journey quite satisfactorily.”
They were fortunate in finding one of their own camions that was just starting out, and the driver was more than willing to take their belongings and asked them to ride through with him, but Grace said they preferred to walk, now that their car had gone on without them.
The Overton girls set out bravely, falling in behind the regiment with which they had been billeted. There were many offers of a ride on wagons of their train, and doughboys frequently urged them to turn over their kits, to all of which Grace gave a smiling “Thank you” and shook her head.
They were two weary girls when they arrived at their objective, and while Elfreda was in search of a cellar, Grace looked up the driver who had their belongings and carried them to the side of the street to a point where Elfreda was to meet her.
“I have a whole house for us,” cried Miss Briggs, running up to Grace nearly half an hour later. “It is what is left of a peasant cottage. Part of the roof is shot away, but what is left of it will cover us very nicely. There is a fireplace where we can make our tea, and enough pieces of board about to make a roaring fire and keep us warm.”
“Fine. Help me carry the things in, then I will report our location to Company A’s commander. I don’t suppose you chance to know where Mrs. Smythe’s billet is?”
“Neither know nor care, Grace Harlowe. I have troubles of my own, the principal one being a pair of feet that weigh several pounds above normal. Let’s go!”
Grace was delighted with their quarters, and the two girls promptly set about arranging their belongings. “Captain” Grace then reported their billet to a lieutenant of Company A, which was according to orders.
When she returned to the cottage a car was standing before it, and Elfreda was at the door of the house watching for her.
“What is it?”
“General Gordon’s car,” said Elfreda. “He has sent it for us, requesting that we mess with him. It strikes me that this is moving some. I hope Chad doesn’t hear of it, or she will have us drawn and quartered at sunrise.”
Grace stepped out to the driver.
“Can you wait fifteen minutes, Buddy? We simply must slick up before we go.”
“Yes, Mrs. Gray. Take your time.”
The girls changed their clothes, brushed their hair and put on clean boots, and came out fit for the most rigid inspection.
The general’s driver was not a slow driver, and ten minutes later they halted before a cottage that appeared to be whole. It was about the only one in town that escaped the deluge of Hun steel that had been hurled on the little French village. The general met the Overton girls at the door and led them in. Captain Boucher was there, and a Major Colt, who was a member of the balloon corps, and to whom he introduced both women.
A cheerful fire was blazing in the wide fireplace, and a table was set for five, while a Chinaman was cooking the supper over the fire.
“How cheerful,” exclaimed Grace. “We too have a cottage and fireplace, but we lack a roof, and what heat doesn’t go up the chimney goes through the place where the roof once was.”
“How is your superior behaving to-day?” questioned the general quizzically.
“I don’t know, not having seen her since early morning, sir. I wish to make a confession to you, and now is the proper time to do so. I feel that I took an inexcusable advantage of you yesterday in telling you of my supervisor’s shortcomings in her presence. Mrs. Chadsey Smythe was the woman I referred to, and she was in the car when I told you the story. She also, of course, heard you express your opinion of her. I owe you an apology, General, but do not see how you can overlook what I did.”
General Gordon laughed heartily.
“No apology is necessary. I knew that it was she to whom you referred. Even had I not known it, her face would have told me. I expressed myself as I did, partly for her own good. I take it that she hasn’t been driving with you to-day?”
“No, sir. She preferred to drive with some one else. When do we reach the Rhine, if I may ask, sir?”
“Four or five days hence. We could do it in much less time, but the enemy is moving slowly, and you know we cannot hurry him, much as we should like to. Things have been moving smoothly thus far, but I am of the opinion that we shall meet with little friendliness after we cross the Moselle. So you ladies hiked through to-day, eh?”
Grace’s face flushed and Elfreda looked amazed.
“Yes, sir, so long as you have mentioned the subject. May I ask how you know?” questioned Grace.
“Our Intelligence Department hears and sees all things,” the general informed her, waving a hand toward Captain Boucher.
“Are you quite positive as to that, General?” returned “Captain” Grace suggestively.
“What do you mean?” demanded the captain, pricking up his ears.
“I was wondering if the Intelligence Department had reason to believe we had spies with us in this army of invasion,” smiled the Overton girl. She observed a quick flash in the eyes of the Intelligence officer, followed by an expression of inquiry there.
“We will be seated now, if you please. Sorry, Mrs. Gray, that we can offer you nothing better than a board to sit on.”
“A board for a seat is luxury compared with what we have had for the last several evenings. Miss Briggs and myself have been dining sitting on a cellar floor,” replied Grace brightly, taking a seat at the right of the general, Elfreda being placed between Captain Boucher and Major Colt on the opposite side of the table.
“To return to your hike, I am very sorry that you did not inform me of the difficulty. Was the action taken without notice to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What led up to it? Had you any conversation with Mrs. Smythe last evening?”
“Not last evening. I had this morning. It was this way, sir. I went to her headquarters and tried to get her to see the matter in a right light and at the same time to warn her that I could tolerate no further insults from her. I should prefer to say nothing about it, for I do not like to talk behind a person’s back, much preferring to speak out when that person is present and can answer.”
“So I observed the other day. I don’t know about finding another car for you, but in any event I will see that you and Miss Briggs have places in an officer’s car for the rest of the journey.”
“Have you ever been up in the air, Mrs. Gray?” interjected Major Colt.
Grace said she had, and related her experience when on a flight with Hippy Wingate, which interested and amused the officers very much.
“Never been in an observation balloon?” questioned the major.
“No, sir.”
“With the general’s permission, I should be glad to have you go up with me, and Miss Briggs too, though she would have to go in another car or else wait until a later date, for the basket is not roomy enough for so many.”
“If I am permitted to say so without offense, I believe I should prefer to remain on the ground,” spoke up J. Elfreda. “I have no ambition to soar.”
“How about you, Mrs. Gray?”
“I should be delighted, sir.”
“Done! To-morrow if the weather looks promising; otherwise on the following day, if that is agreeable.”
Grace said it was.
“I warn you, though,” she added, “that you will be taking desperate chances if I go with you.”
“How so?”
“Mrs. Gray means that something always happens when she is along,” Elfreda informed them.
“Nothing very serious can interfere with us now,” soothed the major. “There are no Boche airplanes to shoot us down, no enemy artillery to shoot off our cables, and, being attached to trucks, we shall move along slowly and steadily behind the army, with a wonderful view spread out before us.”
“I know I shall enjoy it until – ”
“Until what?” demanded the general.
“Until the cable breaks,” returned “Captain” Grace with a twinkle in her eyes.
“I will let you hear from me early in the morning, Mrs. Gray.”
“And I will have a car to take you to the balloons or on toward the front,” added the general. “Then that is settled.”
“You spoke of spies a few moments ago,” spoke up Captain Boucher inquiringly. “I was wondering if you had anything in mind?”
“Likewise, I was wondering if you were having any spy scares?” answered Grace.
Captain Boucher reflected briefly.
“We are,” he said. “I am revealing no military secrets when I say that we are.”
“You may speak frankly before Mrs. Gray, Captain,” interjected the general. “She is something of an investigator herself, and if ever you get in a pickle call on her to assist you.”
“And make a mess of the case,” finished “Captain” Grace. “Pardon me.”
“Military information of a vital nature is percolating to the enemy. Of course an army always has and always will have traitors in it, enemy subjects, I mean, but we thought we had stopped all the leaks. It appears that we haven’t.”
“It is an impossible task, Captain,” observed Grace.
“So long as there are wars there will be spies,” added the general. “All that we can do is to do our best to minimize the evil and deal sternly with those we catch. Our people in Washington have not been in sympathy with stern measures and the enemy knows this. The result is they have been very bold. It was Mrs. Gray, I understand, Captain, who was responsible for the capture of the spy André.”
“And Madame de Beaupre,” added Captain Boucher.
“Oh, you know about it, then?” exclaimed General Gordon.
“Yes.”
“Suppose we change the subject,” suggested Grace, her face flushing. “I never did like to hear myself talked about. May I ask if we are using carrier pigeons on this march?” she questioned innocently.
“Not to speak of. We have them, of course, but our lines of communication are so open that birds are not needed. We have sent out a few in an experimental way; but that is all.”
“In which direction did they fly, sir, if I may ask?”
“Westward, of course. Why do you ask?” demanded the captain, bending a keen glance on the face of the Overton girl.
“I wondered.”
“Will you be good enough to tell us, Mrs. Gray, why you appear to be so interested in carrier pigeons at this moment?” urged the Intelligence officer.
“Yes, what have you to suggest?” added the general.
“That you watch the skies in the early morning. Pigeons are being flown from this army in the early morning, and, sir, they are flying to the eastward,” Grace Harlowe informed them in a quiet tone.
CHAPTER VII
OFFICERS GET A SHOCK
EVERY eye was fixed on Grace Harlowe’s face mid a tense silence. General Gordon was the first to break the silence.
“Ah! I was certain that you had something in mind,” he said.
“I think you must be mistaken, Mrs. Gray,” objected Captain Boucher. “What you probably saw was a bird and – ”
“Yes, sir, it was a bird,” agreed “Captain” Grace amid much laughter.
“Did you see the bird, or did some one tell about it?” persisted the Intelligence officer.
“I saw it, sir.”
“Describe its manner of flight, if you can, please, and the point where you saw it.”
“The bird spiralled up after a little apparent uncertainty, then taking a direct line, streaked it to the eastward. Two others followed it at regular intervals. That was at Etain, and the birds were flown from a little patch of woods to the south of the ruined village. I have seen many pigeons flown in this war, Captain Boucher, and I am familiar, in a way, with their methods of operating.”
“You surely have described it properly. You only saw three birds go up?”
“That was all I saw at Etain.”
“You have seen some since?” asked the general quickly.
“Yes, sir. Three more were liberated from a field just at break of day this morning. They too went east.”
“Most remarkable,” declared the major gazing at her admiringly. “Our Intelligence Department is obtaining some real intelligence.”
“Yes, here’s a job for you, Captain. I’ll warrant you are up at break of day to-morrow morning,” chuckled the general.
“This is a serious matter, General,” reminded the captain. “It doesn’t seem possible that a thing like that could be pulled off under the very eyes of the army. However, if your information is correct, we shall catch the culprit. May I ask you to take an early observation again in the morning, Mrs. Gray?”
“I shall be pleased to do so. If I may make a suggestion, I would urge you to discuss nothing of this before the Chinaman. I observed that the general sent him away before we began speaking; else I should not have told you what I have,” said Grace.
“You suspect that the Chinese are involved in this? I hadn’t considered that at all.”
“No, Captain, I do not – that is, I do not know, but it is well to be cautious. I understand that the Chinese labor battalion was recruited from a very bad element in China. They are great gamblers, as you all know, and for a little money those fellows would go to any lengths. Fertile ground for the Huns, sir.”
General Gordon nodded his approval of the sentiment.
“Boucher, would it not be well to make contact with a Chinaman and have him watch his fellows?” asked the general.
“Afraid we can’t trust them. We shall have to adopt other methods, which we shall do at once.”
“Perhaps I may be able to assist you somewhat. I know one of them, and I know that he knows of the flights of the birds. He knows that I saw them; how, I can’t say.”
“Who is he?” demanded the Intelligence officer sharply.
“I should prefer not to say just now, and I hope you will not press me on that point. I am asking that, believing that I can obtain information from the man better than you can. What I learn from him may not be very definite, but it may be an indication.”
“Better allow Mrs. Gray to operate in her own way, Boucher. That is my advice,” urged the general.
Captain Boucher nodded.
“We will leave this particular Chinaman to you, Mrs. Gray. When you have any information I trust you will advise me immediately, for moments may be precious. I hope they send out other birds, desiring to have the confirmation of my own eyes.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“You have not spoken to any one about what you saw?” questioned the Intelligence officer.
“No, sir.”
“That is well. Please do not. Pardon me, I am well aware that you are too clever a woman to do that. I may need your assistance in other matters when we get into enemy territory. If I may say so, you would make an excellent secret service agent.”
“Thank you, but I have no ambitions in that direction. My great ambition at the moment is to finish with this miserable business and go back to my home in the States with my husband, Captain Gray of the engineers, and my adopted daughter who is now at school in Paris. Believe me, gentlemen, when I do get back I shall be perfectly content to stay at home, even on election day.”
“We all feel as you do,” agreed the general, “but you, like the rest of us, will be in the thick of things even then. One can’t get the fireside habit immediately after having spent months on the western front. I suppose you are thinking of getting back to your billets?” suggested the general politely.
“Yes, if you please, sir. I am most grateful for this pleasant evening and the excellent dinner. The bacon tastes like that which we have at home.”
“Straight from the States,” the general informed her. “This, unfortunately, is the last of it, and we shall live on army chow hereafter, unless the Germans see fit to give us something more worth while. The pleasure this evening has been wholly ours, Mrs. Gray and Miss Briggs, and we thank you for coming. I am in hopes of meeting your husband one of these days. I wish to tell him what I think of his wife,” added the general.
“I am grateful to you for the information,” said the captain in a low tone, for the Chinese servant had just come in, though the general sent him out immediately to order the car for the visitors.
Good nights were said, and a few moments later the Overton girls were on their way to their billets.
“You surely gave those army gentlemen a genuine shock, Loyalheart,” declared Miss Briggs. “It was all news to me. How you can keep things in the back of your head, and never say a word to your next best friend, is more than I can understand. When did you see all you told them about?”
“While you were in dreamland, my dear. If you will rise early enough to-morrow, you may see something too.”
“No, thank you. My desire to sleep is greater than my curiosity. You may do all the sleuthing you choose, J. Elfreda prefers her beauty sleep. I wonder what Mrs. Smythe would say were she to know that we had been dining with a general. I’ll venture to say that she does hear about it; then look out for squalls. Here we are.”
The car came to a stop before their billets, and as it did Grace observed that some one was standing leaning against the wall of the house. She could not make out much more than that in the darkness. Perhaps it was some one seeking protection from the chill wind that was sweeping up the street, and under which both girls were shivering a little.
Grace stepped up on the walk, went up to the man standing there, and peered into his face.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Me Won.”
“Indeed! What are you doing here so late, Won?”
“Me watchee.”
“Watching what?” Grace was puzzled.
“Watchee Missie Glay’s slatchel,” the Chinaman informed her, pointing to something standing against the side of the building.
“Elfreda, will you look here?” called Grace. “Our belongings are out here on the street.”
“You don’t say! What can have happened?”
“I should say from the appearance of things that we had been evicted. Who threw these things out, Won?”
“Number one boss woman.”
“Who?”
“Blig boss woman. Tlow everything all over, a-la.”
“Do you mean Mrs. Smythe?” demanded “Captain” Grace.
“Les.”
“I – I begin to understand,” gasped Miss Briggs. “She threw our belongings into the street, eh?”
“Les.”
“Oh, for a place where I could practice law for one little half hour,” raged J. Elfreda.
“Why did she do that, Won?” questioned Grace Harlowe, though suspecting the truth.
“Not know.”
“Is she in there?” pointing to the cottage.
“Les.”
“Thank you, Won. It was very kind of you to watch our belongings. Don’t go away yet, I may need you.”
Grace tried the door and found it barred. She called, but there was no answer.
“This is provoking!” she exclaimed, now thoroughly exasperated.
“What are you going to do?” asked Elfreda.
“Wake up the house,” she replied shortly, stepping out into the street and feeling about on the ground. “I think this will do it,” she observed, returning to the sidewalk with a rock in one hand. It was a sizable rock, a big cobblestone, with which the street was paved, except for the holes that had been dug by German shells.
“Hulloa the house!” shouted Grace.
There was no response from within. Grace drew back the rock and banged it against the door, but still no response. Now began such a banging as awakened sleepers in the cellars all along the street, a banging that attracted the attention of M. P.’s (military police) and that split a board in the door itself.
“Hulloa the house!” repeated the Overton girl.
“What do you want?” demanded a calm voice from within, in a tone that convinced Grace Harlowe that its owner had not been asleep at all.
“I wish to get into my billet, if you please.”
“Then go to your billet,” suggested Mrs. Smythe.
“These are our billets, Mrs. Smythe. If you wish to stay in them, you are welcome so far as we are concerned, but you will please open the door so we may come in.”
“You are mistaken. These are not your billets; they are the headquarters of the welfare supervisor. You will be good enough to go away before it becomes necessary for me to call the police.”
“Be so kind as to open the door!” demanded Grace evenly.
“You threw our things into the street,” shouted Elfreda.
Grace begged her to be quiet.
“Will you go away?” demanded the supervisor, raising her voice.
“Where shall we go? We have no place to sleep. You have thrown our kits out, and we are very cold. I ask you once more to let us in.”
“That does not concern me, driver. I am not interested in your domestic affairs. Go away or I shall scream for the M. P.’s.”
“Save your breath, they are coming now,” answered “Captain” Grace as she heard men running toward them from two directions, and a moment later half a dozen military police with drawn clubs came rushing on the scene.
