Part 9 (1/2)

”Now,” continued Josie, reflectively, ”you and I must both understand that we're undertaking a case that is none of our business. It's the business of Mr. Bielaski, of the department of justice, first of all; then it's the business of Mr. Flynn, of the secret service; then it's the business of the local police. Together, they have a thousand eyes, but enemy propagandists are more numerous and scattered throughout the nation. Your chief of police doesn't want to interfere with the federal agents here, and the federal agents are instructed not to pay attention to what is called 'spy hysteria,' and so they're letting things slide.

But you believe, and I believe, that there's more treachery underlying these circulars than appears on the surface, and if we can secure evidence that is important, and present it to the proper officials, we shall be doing our country a service. So I'll start out on my own responsibility.”

”Doesn't your secret service badge give you authority?” asked Mary Louise.

”No,” replied Josie; ”that badge is merely honorary. Daddy got it for me so that if ever I got into trouble it would help me out, but it doesn't make me a member of the secret service or give me a bit of authority. But that doesn't matter; when I get evidence, I know what authority to give it to, and that's all that is necessary.”

”Anyhow,” said Mary Louise, with a relieved sigh, ”I'm glad you are going to investigate the author of those awful circulars. It has worried me a good deal to think that Dorfield is harboring a German spy, and I have confidence that if anyone can discover the traitor, you can.”

”That's good of you,” returned Josie, with a grimace, ”but I lack a similar confidence in myself. Don't you remember how many times I've foozled?”

”But sometimes, Josie, you've won, and I hope you'll win now.”

”Thank you,” said Josie; ”I hope so, myself.”

CHAPTER X THE EXPLOSION

Day was just beginning to break when a terrible detonation shook all Dorfield. Houses rocked, windows rattled, a sudden wind swept over the town and then a glare that was not a presage of the coming sun lit the sky.

A brief silence succeeded the shock, but immediately thereafter whistles shrieked, fire-bells clanged, a murmur of agitated voices crying aloud was heard on every side, and the people began pouring from the houses into the streets demanding the cause of the alarm.

Colonel Hathaway, still weak and nervous, stood trembling in his bathrobe when Mary Louise came to him.

”It's the airplane factory, Gran'pa Jim,” she said. ”I can see it from my windows. Something must have exploded and the buildings are on fire.”

The airplane works of Dorfield had been one of the city's most unique inst.i.tutions, but until we entered the World War it was not deemed of prime importance. The government's vast airplane appropriations, however, had resulted in the Dorfield works securing contracts for the manufacture of war machines that straightway raised the enterprise to an important position. The original plant had been duplicated a dozen times, until now, on the big field south of the city, the cl.u.s.ter of buildings required for the construction of aircraft was one of the most imposing manufacturing plants in that part of the State. Skilled government aviators had been sent to Dorfield to inspect every machine turned out. Although backed by local capital, it was, in effect, a government inst.i.tution because it was now devoted exclusively to government contracts; therefore the explosion and fire filled every loyal heart with a sinister suspicion that an enemy had caused the calamity.

Splendid work on the part of the fire department subdued the flames after but two of the huge shed-like buildings had been destroyed. By noon the fire was controlled; a cordon of special police surrounded the entire plant and in one of the yards a hundred and fifty workmen were corralled under arrest until the federal officers had made an investigation and decided where to place the blame.

Rea.s.suring reports had somewhat quieted Colonel Hathaway and Mary Louise, but although they returned to their rooms, they could not sleep. Aunt Sally, realizing the situation, had an early breakfast prepared, but when she called Josie O'Gorman the girl was not in her room or in the house. She appeared just as the others were finis.h.i.+ng their meal and sat down with a sigh of content.

”My, but the coffee smells good!” she exclaimed. ”I'm worn out with the excitement.”

”Did you go to the fire, Josie?” asked Mary Louise.

”Yes, and got there in time to help drag some of the poor fellows out.

Three men in the building where the explosion occurred were killed outright, and two others seriously injured. Fortunately the night s.h.i.+ft had just quit work or the casualties would have been much greater.”

”It's dreadful, as it is,” said Mary Louise with a shudder.

”What was the cause of the explosion!” inquired the colonel.

”Dynamite,” replied Josie calmly.

”Then it was not an accident?”

”They don't use dynamite in making airplanes. Twenty-two machines, all complete and packed ready for s.h.i.+pment, were blown to smithereens. A good many others, in course of construction, were ruined. It's a pretty bad mess, I can tell you, but the machines can be replaced, and the lives can't.”

”I wonder who did it,” said Mary Louise, staring at her friend with frightened eyes.

”The Kaiser,” declared Josie. ”He must be in fine fettle this morning, since his propaganda of murder and arson has been so successful.”