Grace Harlowe with the American Army on the Rhine

CHAPTER V

GRACE WINS AND IS SORRY

THE general saluted and stepped away, and in a moment or so a squad of soldiers ran to the car.

“All hands out, please,” called Grace. “No need to have them lift us with the car.”

Up to this time J. Elfreda had not dared permit herself to catch Grace’s eye, knowing very well that were she to do so she would laugh. Perhaps “Captain” Grace was of the same opinion regarding her own emotions, so she avoided Elfreda’s eyes. The men quickly boosted the car back into the road.

“Take the wheel and make a fresh start, Elfreda,” directed Grace, after thanking the doughboys.

“I beg most respectfully to be excused. Mrs. Smythe, I ask to be relieved from driving. An empty road and a wide one is the only safe place for me to experiment. May I turn the wheel over to Mrs. Gray?”

The supervisor half nodded. She was dazed, at least she appeared to be so, and had not a word to say. At least two of her companions in the car found themselves wondering what her thoughts were at that moment. After a little Elfreda ventured to speak.

“How wide and expansive the morning is,” she observed.

“Very,” agreed Grace. “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I agree with you.”

A great silence hovered over the army automobile, so far as the rear seat was concerned, though eventually Grace and Elfreda fell to discussing army matters of a general nature. At noon they halted for mess, then proceeded on at slow speed, for they were close up to the engineers, who were following the advance column to examine roads for mines and repair them where necessary.

Thus far not a gun had been fired, though at any moment a blast was looked for by every one in the Third Army. Airplanes were constantly buzzing overhead, observation balloons were continuously on watch in the skies, and every precaution was being taken to guard against a surprise. That night their bedroom again was in a cellar, and once more Won Lue brought them fagots and water.

They had left Mrs. Chadsey Smythe at the cellar that had been assigned to her. Miss Cahill arrived at about the same time on an army truck and shared the cellar with Madame, Miss O’Leary and the maid, Marie Debussy.

“Grace Harlowe, I take off my hat to you,” Elfreda exclaimed, throwing off her cap and blouse. “Chad got her deserts that time, but, woman, look out for her. Revenge is as sweet to her as it is to you.”

“Revenge is not sweet to me,” objected Grace. “I am so sorry that I turned the tables on her as I did, but it was an opportunity that I could not miss. At least it served one useful purpose; Madame did not speak to me all the rest of the day. What a heavenly relief. Do you suppose the general knew who she was?”

“He may have known who she was, but I do not believe he understood that she was the woman to whom you referred. I hope the general doesn’t find out that he was abusing the woman to her face,” Elfreda chuckled.

“He will learn it the first time I see him. I feel that I did an inexcusable thing in drawing him into the muss as I did. I am always doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“It is war,” reminded Elfreda. “Ah! Here comes our friend the Chinaman. Good evening, Won. What is it?”

“Plenty fline apple,” he answered, emptying out full two quarts of red apples from a gas mask bag.

“Oh, isn’t that fine,” glowed Elfreda. “I haven’t had an apple since I left America. Grace, what do you think of that?”

“I think Won must have found an orchard in a cellar somewhere. Thank you ever so much. Why do you do so many nice things for us?”

“Nicee lady, a-la. Missie see nicee birdie fly fly away?” Won accompanied the words with a wink and knowing smirk.

“What do you mean?” demanded Grace, regarding him narrowly.

For answer Won formed a spiral in the air with one hand, raising the hand a little higher with each circle, then sending the hand flitting through the air in imitation of a bird’s flight.

Grace caught the meaning instantly.

“Oh, you mean a bird?”

“Les. Plidgin bird. Him fly, a-la. Missie see plidgin fly.”

“Did you see it, Won?”

“Me savvy. Me see.”

“Do you know where they came from, where they were going or who sent them? Understand me?”

“Not know. Plenty blad man. Mebby Chinaman blad man.”

“Why do you tell me, then?”

“Missie no like blad man, no likee plidgin go so,” pointing to the east.

“Thank you. I understand. You must keep watch, Won, and let me know who is making the ‘plidgin fly-fly.’”

Won nodded and chuckled, then shaking hands with himself, trotted away without another word.

“What was that wild heathen talking about?” demanded Elfreda. “You appeared to understand perfectly what he was getting at, but I couldn’t make a single thing out of it.”

“He was trying to convey to me that something bad is going on in the Third Army.”

“What is the something?”

“Perhaps I shall be able to tell you about that later. Won is a wise Chinaman. He knew that I knew something was going on and wished to let me know he was on our side. I don’t believe many of the Orientals in the labor battalion are in the same class with our friend. To change the subject, do you know I feel sorry for that poor little Marie Debussy. The half dumb way she looks at you is almost heart-breaking. Mrs. Smythe must make her life miserable. When we get to the Rhine we must try to do something for the girl. Did you observe that Miss Cahill came through on a camion to-day?”

“Yes, I observed it.”

“Mrs. Smythe evidently did not propose to be so crowded.”

“No, she wished to be free to jump if you hit another bridge,” declared Elfreda.

Supper was attended with the same smoke-screen as had happened at the meal of the previous evening, but they enjoyed their mess and chatted and teased each other until it was time to turn in.

Grace was up at daybreak again, but did not awaken her companion. The morning was very chill, but the air was clear, and Grace with her binoculars surveyed the surrounding country as well as she could in the half light of the early morning, appearing to be especially interested in every clump of trees within the range of her vision.

Day was just dawning when she discovered that of which she was in search, a pigeon rising into the air from a field quite a distance to the southward. As on the previous occasion the pigeon flew east, and was followed at regular intervals by two others.

There could be no doubt about it now. War pigeons were being sent toward the enemy country, though Grace was not at all certain that it was enemy agents who were doing the sending. In any event it was a matter that should be reported, which the Overton girl determined to do that very day.

Without saying anything to her companion of what she had observed, Grace ate her breakfast, and asking Elfreda to clean up and pack up, set out for Mrs. Smythe’s headquarters. The supervisor was just eating her breakfast. Her face flushed as she saw who her visitor was, but she spoke no word, merely stared.

“I have come, Mrs. Smythe, for two reasons; first, to ask what your orders are for the day; secondly, to tell you I am sorry that I gave way to my inclinations yesterday and related the story of our trouble to the general. I ordinarily fight my own battles. You must admit, however, that I had very excellent reasons for feeling as I did toward you.”

“You insulted and humiliated me!” cried the supervisor, suddenly finding speech.

“And you also have insulted and humiliated me,” replied Grace. “It is my feeling that you were well entitled to all that you received, but my regret is that I permitted myself to be the instrument of the rebuke. You are my superior. I am at all times ready to take and obey any reasonable orders that you may give me. However, we must understand each other. My self-respect will not permit me to remain silent under such tongue-lashings as you have been indulging in. It must cease, Mrs. Smythe!”

“You – you are telling me, your commanding officer, what I must do?” demanded the woman, exercising more than ordinary self-restraint.

“No, not that, Mrs. Smythe. What I am seeking to do is to convince you that it will not be advisable for the peace of mind of either of us for you to continue your unkind treatment of me.”

“And, in the event that I decide to do as I please in all matters relating to your official duties, what then?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders.

“Attention!”

Grace smiled sweetly.

“The regulations do not require me to salute a superior when that superior is seated, without head covering and with blouse unbuttoned. Neither do the regulations require that I shall come to attention in such circumstances. This is not an official call and I do not expect you to receive me as such, therefore you must expect no more of me. I am here as woman to woman to ask that you treat me like a human being, and then to ask your forgiveness for my questionable revenge of to-day. Even the Huns have signed an armistice and agreed to cease fighting. Surely you and I as good Americans should be able to settle our differences by declaring an armistice; and you may rest assured that I shall do my part toward preserving the peace. What are your feelings on the matter and your orders for the day, please?”

“Driver, my feelings are my own. You came here with the deliberate intention of further insulting me.”

“I am sincerely sorry that you look at it in that light. I know you will not feel that way after you have thought over what I have said.”

“Have you anything further to say, driver? If so, say it and have done, for it will be your last opportunity.”

“Only to ask again for orders, Mrs. Smythe,” replied Grace sweetly.

“My orders are that you get out of my sight instantly!” The supervisor rose, buttoned her blouse to the throat and put on her cap. “Go!” she commanded, pointing to the cellar opening.

Grace Harlowe clicked her heels together and snapped into a salute, then executing a right-about, marched from the cellar and back to her own headquarters under a ruined cottage.

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