Part 2 (1/2)
A block away they secured seats in a streetcar and a few minutes thereafter reached the ”Four Corners,” the intersection of the two princ.i.p.al streets of Dorfield. But on the way they had sold old Jonathan Dodd, who happened to be in the car and was overawed by the display of red-white-and-blue, two hundred dollars' worth of bonds. As for old man Dodd, he realized he was trapped and bought his limit with a sigh of resignation.
As they separated at the Four Corners, each to follow her appointed route, many surprised, if not startled, citizens regarded the Liberty Girls with approving eyes. They were pretty girls, all of them, and their silken costumes were really becoming. The patriots gazed admiringly; the more selfish citizens gave a little s.h.i.+ver of dismay and scurried off to escape meeting these aggressive ones, whose gorgeous banners frankly proclaimed their errand.
Mary Louise entered the bank on the corner and made inquiry for Mr.
Jaswell, the president.
”We're off at last, sir,” she said, smiling at his bewildered looks, ”and we girls are determined to make the Dorfield people do their full duty. May we depend upon your bank to fulfill your promises, and carry those bond buyers who wish to make time payments?”
”To be sure, my dear,” replied the banker. ”I'd no idea you young ladies were to wear uniforms. But you certainly look fascinating, if you're a fair sample of the others, and I don't see how anyone can refuse to back up our girls in their patriotic 'drive.' G.o.d bless you, Mary Louise, and help you to achieve your n.o.ble object.”
There were many offices in the building, above the bank, and the girl visited every one of them. Her appearance, garbed in the national colors and bearing her banner, was a sign of conquest, for it seemed to these busy men as if Uncle Sam himself was backing this crusade and all their latent patriotism was stirred to the depths. So they surrendered at discretion and signed for the bonds.
Mary Louise was modest and sweet in demeanor; her pleas were as pleasant as they were persuasive; there was nothing virulent or dominant in her att.i.tude. But when she said: ”Really, Mr. So-and-so, you ought to take more bonds than that; you can afford it and our country needs the money,” the argument was generally effective, and when she had smilingly pinned the bond b.u.t.ton on a man's coat and pa.s.sed on to interview others, she left him wondering why he had bought more bonds than he ever had intended to, or even provoked with himself that he had subscribed at all. These were the people who had generally resisted all former pleadings of the regular committee and had resolved to ignore the bond sale altogether. But perhaps their chagrin was equalled by their satisfaction in having been won over by a pretty girl, whose manner and appearance were alike irresistible.
The men of Dorfield are a fair sample of men everywhere. At this period the full meaning of the responsibilities we had a.s.sumed in this tremendous struggle was by no means fully realized. The war was too far away, and life at home was still running in its accustomed grooves.
They could not take the European war to themselves, nor realize that it might sweep away their prosperity, their liberties--even their homes.
Fear had not yet been aroused; pity for our suffering and hard-pressed allies was still lightly considered; the war had not struck home to the hearts of the people as it has since. I doubt if even Mary Louise fully realized the vital importance of the work she had undertaken.
When the Liberty Girls met at Colonel Hathaway's for a light luncheon, their eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm and their cheeks rosy from successful effort. Their individual sales varied, of course, for some were more tactful and winning than others, but all had substantial results to report. ”We've taken Dorfield by storm!” was their exultant cry.
”Altogether,” said Mary Louise, figuring up the amounts, ”we've sold thirty-two thousand dollars' worth of bonds this morning. That's encouraging for three hours' work, but it's not enough to satisfy us.
We must put in a busy afternoon and try to get a total of at least one hundred thousand by to-night. To-morrow we must do better than that.
Work as late as you can, girls, and at eight o'clock we will meet again at Alora's house and compare results.”
The girls needed no urging to resume their work, for already they had gained confidence in their ability and were inspired to renewed effort.
Mary Louise had optimistic plans for that afternoon's work. She first visited the big flour mill, where she secured an interview with Mr.
Chisholme, the president and general manager.
”We can't buy bonds,” he said peevishly. ”Our business is being ruined by the high price of wheat and the absurd activities of Hoover. We stand to operate at a loss or else shut down altogether. The government ought to pay us compensation, instead of asking us to contribute to the war.”
”However, if we fail to win the war,” Mary Louise quietly replied, ”your enormous investment here will become worthless. Isn't it better to lose a little now, for the sake of future winnings, than to sacrifice the past and future and be reduced to poverty? We are asking you to save yourself from threatened danger--the national calamity that would follow our defeat in this war.”
He sat back in his chair and looked at the girl in amazement. She was rather young to have conceived such ideas.
”Well, there's time enough to consider all that,” he said, less gruffly. ”You'll have to excuse me now, Miss Burrows. I'm busy.”
But Mary Louise kept her seat and redoubled her arguments, which were logical and straight to the point. Mr. Chisholme's att.i.tude might have embarra.s.sed her had she been pleading a personal favor, but she felt she was the mouthpiece of the President, of the Nation, of worldwide democracy, and would not allow herself to feel annoyed. She devoted three-quarters of an hour to Mr. Chisholme, who gradually thawed in her genial suns.h.i.+ne. She finally sold him fifty thousand dollars worth of Liberty Bonds and went on her way elated. The regular Bond Committee had labored for weeks with this stubborn man, who managed one of the largest enterprises in Dorfield, yet they had signally failed to convince him or to induce him to subscribe a dollar. The girl had succeeded in less than an hour, and sold him exactly the amount he should have bought.
The mill subscription was a powerful leverage with which to pry money from other reluctant ones. Stacks, Sellem & Stacks, the big department store heretofore resisting all appeals, bought from Mary Louise bonds to the amount of twenty-five thousand; the Denis Hardware Company took ten thousand. Then Mary Louise met her first serious rebuff. She went into Silas Herring's wholesale grocery establishment and told Mr.
Herring she wanted to sell him bonds.
”This is outrageous!” cried Herring indignantly. ”When the men can't rob us, or force us to back England in her selfish schemes, they set girls on us to wheedle us out of money we have honestly earned. This hold-up game won't work, I a.s.sure you, and I advise you to get into more respectable business. My money is mine; it doesn't belong to the Allies, and they won't get a cent of it.” He was getting more angry as he proceeded in his harangue. ”Moreover,” he continued, ”our weak administration can't use me to help it out of the hole it has foolishly stumbled into, or make America the cat's-paw to pull British chestnuts out of the fire. You ought to be ashamed, Miss Burrows, to lend yourself to such unpatriotic methods of bulldozing honest citizens!”
Mary Louise was distressed, but undaunted. The man was monstrously wrong, and she knew it. Sitting in Mr. Herring's private office at the time were Professor John Dyer, the superintendent of Dorfield's schools, and the Hon. Andrew Duncan, a leading politician, a former representative and now one of the county supervisors. The girl looked at Professor Dyer, whom she knew slightly, and said pleadingly:
”Won't you defend our administration and our country, Mr. Dyer?”
He smiled deprecatingly but did not speak. He was a tall, lean man, quite round-shouldered and of studious appearance. He wore double eyegla.s.ses, underneath which his eyes were somewhat watery. The smile upon his thin features was a stationary one, not as if a.s.sumed, but molded with the features and lacking geniality.