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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36726-8.txt b/36726-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5f830a --- /dev/null +++ b/36726-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3205 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of America First, by Frances Nimmo Greene + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: America First + +Author: Frances Nimmo Greene + +Illustrator: T. de Thulstrup + +Release Date: July 14, 2011 [EBook #36726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICA FIRST *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Archives and Special +Collections, University Libraries, Ball State University +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + AMERICA FIRST + +[Illustration: "I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the +tenderfoot, "but this is--different." And he added in his heart: "This +is for _my country_." [_Page 23._]] + + + + + AMERICA FIRST + + BY + FRANCES NIMMO GREENE + + ILLUSTRATED BY + T. DE THULSTRUP + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON + + COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + TO MY MOTHER'S NAMESAKE + AND MY OWN + VIRGINIA OWEN GREENE AND + FRANCES NIMMO GREENE + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + CALLED TO THE COLORS 1 + + UNDER THE FLAG 53 + + AMERICA FIRST 89 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the tenderfoot, + "but this is--different." And he added + in his heart: "This is for _my country_" _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE + + A man was sitting over some sort of instrument 36 + + "You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under + the flag!" 86 + + "Riego Yañez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands + with an American hero!" 120 + + + + +CALLED TO THE COLORS + + +This is the story of a "tenderfoot"--of a pink-cheeked, petted lad, +and of his first service as a Boy Scout. + +Danny Harding was what his mother's friends termed "wonderfully +fortunate," but Danny himself took quite another view of his life's +circumstances as he hurried home from school one afternoon, an hour +before the regular time for dismissal. + +The day was golden with sunshine, but the boy's spirit was dark. There +was singing in the air and singing in the tree tops, but in the heart +which pounded against his immaculate jacket were silent rage and +despair. + +The Whippoorwill Patrol had been called to the colors, and he the +untried, the untested tenderfoot would have to remain at home in +luxurious security, while the huskier, browner, less-sheltered lads +answered their country's call. It was beyond the power of a boy's +heart to endure--the mortification--the wild despair of it! They would +call him a slacker, a _coward_! But, worse still, his country needed +him, and he could not answer! + +Danny brushed away the tears which threatened to blind him, and +stumbled on. + +The call had come through a telegram from the Scout Master to the boys +while they were yet at school, and the teacher had promptly dismissed +them to service. The Whippoorwills were to leave immediately upon an +expedition to the mountains, but just what duty they were called to +perform was not stated in the brief message. All they knew was that +they were to leave at once for a certain distant mountain-top, there +pitch tents and await orders for serious service. + +On receipt of the news the other boys had rushed off noisily with +eager joy to don their khaki uniforms and make ready, but Danny had +slipped down a by-street--a wounded, a hurt thing, trying to hide his +anguish away from mortal sight. He would not be allowed to go--he +knew it--for he was the only son of a widowed mother who loved him all +too well. He was her all, her idol, and her days had been spent in +pampering and shielding him. + +Only a week before, the scouts had gone on a hike together and she had +refused absolutely to allow Danny to accompany them--the sun would be +too hot, he might get poisoned with wild ivy, he would be sure to +imbibe fever germs from the mountain spring! + +No, thought the miserable boy, she would be doubly fearful, doubly +unwilling, now that the Whippoorwills were to do serious scout duty on +Death Head Mountain. + +Danny's soul raged against his soft fate as he stumbled up the side +steps of his handsome home and entered his mother's presence. + +He did not fly to her arms as he was wont to do, but, instead, flung +himself into the first convenient chair with a frown. He could not +trust himself to speak. + +But even in that moment of stress Danny realized that his mother had +not hurried to him for the usual kiss. She was struggling with some +sort of bundle, and she only looked up with a quick smile. + +The next instant, however, the smile of welcome died out of her face, +and she stopped suddenly and regarded him with a startled question in +her eyes. + +Danny frowned more darkly, and moved uneasily under her searching +gaze. He looked away in a vain attempt to hide the tears which had +sprung to his eyes. + +And then came the unexpected: + +"Danny," said his mother, in a voice that sounded new to him, "I +received a long-distance phone message from the Scout Master, and--he +said he had wired to the school----" + +She paused a moment, and then asked: "Didn't you get the message?" + +"Yes," said the boy doggedly. + +There was a pause, and then his mother deliberately put down the +bundle she had been working with, and approached. She came and stood +before him, with her back to the table as if for support. Danny did +not look up into her face, though he saw her white, jewelled hands +grasping the edge of the table, and they were strained and tense. + +"My son," she said, "what is the matter with you?" + +He was too full to answer. + +"Danny," she began again presently and in that new voice, "you won't +_do_ this way--you _will not_!" And then suddenly a white, jewelled +hand was struck fiercely upon the table, and the new voice exclaimed +passionately: + +"Daniel Harding, if you sit around and cry like a baby when you are +called to the service of your country, I'll--I'll _disown_ you, sir!" + +"Mother!" And Danny sprang to her arms. + +There were a few moments of sobbing, laughing confession from Danny, +and then his mother explained to him her unexpected change of attitude +toward scouting. Danger?--yes, of course she knew that this might +involve danger to him, but this call was for no frolic--it was to the +service of his country! He _was_ her all, everything in the world to +her, but the one thing which she could not, would not bear would be to +see him turn "slacker" and coward when other mothers' boys--not ten +years older than Danny--were already on the firing-line in France! + +"Our part in this war is the old fight of '76, Danny"--she said to +him--"_nothing less than that_! The Colonists fought to win +independence for America. We are fighting now to save that +independence won. And if it takes every man in America--every boy in +America--if it takes _you_, Danny--there is just one answer for an +American to give." + +And then the two of them hurriedly finished tying up the bundle she +had put aside. It was his kit for the expedition! + +It was a newer, bigger ideal of patriotism which Danny Harding took +with him into his service on Death Head Mountain. His mother, who +loved him all too well, had yet sent him from her with nothing short +of her positive orders to do his duty like a man. + + * * * * * + +The Whippoorwill Patrol had answered the call to service, and the +growing dusk found its members arranging their camp for a night's +bivouac in a lonely stretch of woods "somewhere" on the crest of the +Blue Ridge Mountains. + +The Scout Master had not come, but his orders had, and the +Whippoorwills were busily engaged in executing them. + +"Camp in Mica Cove, conceal your fires, and wait for me," the Scout +Master had telegraphed. "You are called to service." + +So here they were in Mica Cove, hardily preparing for whatever service +to their country it might be theirs to perform, and excitedly guessing +at what ominous circumstance had necessitated their sudden calling out. + +Of course, everybody knew that old "Death Head" must have come into +some added evil repute, and would have to be taken in hand. And that +they would shortly be scouting over all its lonely trails nobody had +any doubt whatever. + +There were eight of them, for the whole patrol was present. Youngest +and happiest of them all was the pink-cheeked, petted tenderfoot, +Danny Harding. He was no "slacker," no "coward"! He was here with the +others to play a manly part in serving his country, and his mother had +sent him from her with a smile! + +Besides Danny, there were in the ranks L. C. Whitman, nicknamed "Elsie," +Ham and Roger Gayle, Alex Batré, Ed Rowell, and Biddie Burton--as husky +and jolly a bunch as could well be got together. All these were older +than Danny, and, as all were more or less seasoned to scouting, they +were quite disposed to have their fun out of the new recruit. + +Danny took their teasing in good spirit, however, for he felt that it +was part of his initiation into their envied circle. They were big +boys--brown like the woods of which they had become a part, +panther-footed, eagle-eyed, efficient. Danny felt that he would be +willing to suffer much to become as they. + +The tenderfoot watched them all to see just how a scout was supposed +to act, but it was to Willard McKenzie, the resourceful leader of the +patrol, that his eyes turned oftenest in frank admiration. + +McKenzie was the oldest of the bunch--quite seventeen--and five years +of scouting had stamped him a man as Nature meant him to be. He knew +and could answer every bird-call, could follow a wood-trail +unerringly, could find himself in any emergency by the chart of the +stars above him. He was the trusted friend of every wild thing about +him, and brother to every wind that blew. The tenderfoot watched the +graceful movements of the leader's Indianlike figure, studied his +genius for quiet command, and decided promptly to be, one day, a +second Willard McKenzie. + +In obedience to McKenzie's orders, the boys built their camp-fire +within the cove, where it would be hidden on three sides by peaks +which towered above, and on the fourth by a dense thicket. + +Mr. Gordon, the Scout Master, had not come, nor did they know when to +expect him. But they knew enough to obey their leader, and this they +were proceeding to do. + +It was a simple matter--getting the camp ready--and the boys +thoroughly enjoyed it. As they were to sleep on the ground, rolled in +their blankets, they had merely to clear the space about them of +underbrush and fallen timber, and build the fire for cooking. + +Of course they talked of war as they worked, for they were scouts in +khaki, preparing for action. + +Ed Rowell claimed for cousin one of the American engineers who fought +their way out of German captivity with their bare fists. Batré's older +brother was right then cleaving his winged way through clouds of +battle in the service of the La Fayette Escadrille. Whitman knew a man +who knew a man who was in the 167th Infantry Regiment when it made +with others that now historic march, knee-deep in French snows. + +Danny said nothing, for he was a quiet, thoughtful lad. But he had +vividly in mind a handsome fellow of only eighteen who, until +America's declaration of war, had Sunday after Sunday carried the +golden cross up the aisle of the little Church of the Holy Innocents +to "Onward, Christian Soldiers." Danny had heard his mother say that +it was that song which had sent the young crucifer bearing the Red +Cross of Mercy right up to the German guns. + +But their talk was not all serious. They were brimming over with life, +and they laughed and scrapped and worked together with a zest which +made even bramble-cutting enjoyable. + +It was when the big fire was glowing red and they set about preparing +their evening meal that the best part of the fun began. Whoever has +not broiled great slices of bacon or toasted cold biscuits on +sharpened sticks before a cheery camp-fire, who has not roasted sweet +potatoes and green corn in glowing ashes, who has not inhaled the +aroma from an old tin coffee-pot, spitting and sputtering on a hot +rock, should join the Boy Scouts and hike back to the heart of nature. + +Oh, but it was fun! All except the holding in check of savage +appetites till the mess should be cooked. Ed Rowell had been detailed +to toast the biscuits, and repeatedly threatened to "eat 'em alive" if +they didn't brown faster. + +Danny, who, with Alex Batré, had been directed to broil the bacon, +couldn't for the life of him keep from pinching off a crisp edge now +and then to nibble. And yet only yesterday Danny Harding would have +turned up his nose at bacon. The stimulating fresh air and the hard +work of camp life had begun to get in their good work on him. + +On the other side of the fire from Danny, Ham and Roger Gayle were +roasting corn and sweet potatoes in the ashes, and a little beyond, +Elsie Whitman was filling the water-cans from a trickling mountain +spring--while Biddie Burton was busily engaged in getting under +everybody else's feet and teasing whomever he could. + +McKenzie, their leader, was momentarily absent, having gone down to +the road below the cliff on which they were encamped to see if their +fire could be sighted from that point through the screening thicket. + +The boys had from the first been instructed by McKenzie to keep their +voices lowered. They were there for serious service, he had told them. +And the necessity for stealth and the promise of adventure had for a +time keyed them up to the highest pitch of excitement. + +But when the interest of cooking supper became uppermost--especially +when the scent of the bacon and coffee began to fill the air--thoughts +of adventure withdrew a little to a distance and whispered merriment +became the order of the hour. + +As was natural, they turned on the tenderfoot their battery of +teasing, and the tenderfoot bore it as best he could. + +"Its mother washes 'em," averred Biddie Burton, coming up behind Danny +and carefully examining his ears as he knelt at his work. + +"Sure she does," laughed Ham across the fire, "and they say that a sore +tooth in its little mouth aches everybody in the family connection." + +"Look out there, something's burning!" broke in Ed Rowell suddenly. +And the next moment Ham and Roger were busy rescuing from the fire the +scorching potatoes. + +"I declare," scolded Biddie, lounging up, "I could beat you fellows +cooking, with both hands tied behind me." + +"Why haven't you ever done it, then?" snapped the elder Gayle, sore +over his partial failure. + +"Why, nobody has ever tied my hands behind me," came in seemingly hurt +explanation from Biddie, and the crowd laughed. + +McKenzie had directed them not to wait for him, and they did not. +Another five minutes found them eating like young wolves around a +languishing fire. + +Later, when the fire winked lower, and the meal was finished--when the +screech-owls began to send their blood-chilling, shivering screams +through the forest--they drew closer together and began to talk of +weird and haunting things. + +"Over yonder, on the real 'Death Head,'" began Roger, bringing the +interest down to the spot, "is the haunted tree where----" + +"Look out," broke in young Rowell, "a little more of that and friend +Danny over here will cut for home and mother." + +"I'll do nothing of the kind; I'm not a baby!" exclaimed Danny +indignantly. But all the same, his heart was already in his mouth, for +Danny had never been distinguished for signal bravery. + +"No, you are not 'a baby,'" put in the unquenchable Biddie, "but +before we get out of these woods you are going to wish you _were_ a +baby, and a _girl_ baby at that!" + +Danny did not reply to this. He only sat very still, wishing that +Willard McKenzie would return from his prolonged trip, and thinking +of the mother who was looking to him to play the man. + +The scene lost its glow. The surrounding forest grew darker, taller, +and began stealing up closer about them. + +"If you cry like a baby--!" Danny's mother was whispering to his +sinking heart. + +The others had fallen into an argument about the exact location of the +haunted tree, but presently Ed Rowell asked impatiently: + +"Well, what is it about the place, anyway?" + +"Haunted!" exclaimed Ham. "A murderer, hunted with dogs through the +mountains, hanged himself on----" + +"And the old tree died in the night," assisted his brother. "And it +stands there now, naked and stark and dead. At night----" + +Danny's heart stood still to hear. + +"At night," broke in Whitman, "if you creep up close, you can see the +dead man swinging in the wind!" + +"_Listen!_" exclaimed Biddie under his breath. + +It will have to be recorded that they all jumped violently at the +exclamation. + +"What?" demanded L. C. + +"And hear old Danny being quiet!" finished the teasing scamp. + +"You bet you, and he'd better be quiet--" began Roger. + +But Whitman interrupted: + +"Danny's afraid of ghosts, anyway," he declared, "I tried to leave him +in the graveyard once, but he was home in his mama's lap before I +started running." + +"I'm not any more afraid of ghosts than you are," Danny protested hotly. + +"Oh, _aren't_ you?" + +"No, I'm not!" + +"All right, then," the big boy taunted; "I've been to the haunted tree +by myself at night--these fellows all know I have--now suppose _you_ go." + +"Sure, tenderfoot," put in young Rowell; "here's a perfectly good +chance to show your nerve." + +"He hasn't any," sneered Alex Batré. + +But Danny drew back, aghast at the proposition--go alone to a spot +like that, and at night! + +"Go to it, kid," was suddenly spoken quietly in his ear. + +Danny turned to see whose was the kindly voice that advised, and +looked into Biddie Burton's eyes. + +"Don't let 'em make you take a dare," came in another whisper. "_Go._" +Biddie was not smiling now, and there was a note of serious +friendliness in his voice. + +It suddenly came to Danny that he would give more to merit that new +confidence on Biddie's part than to break down the taunts of the others. +And yet he could not. He could no more command his shaking nerves to +carry him to that unhallowed, ghostly spot than he could command the +unwilling nerves of another. His will-power had deserted him. + +"I _dare_ you to go!" badgered L. C. + +Danny's spirit flamed for one brief moment. But in the very next his +head dropped, and he turned away. + +"This is going too far," the wretched little fellow heard Biddie +Burton exclaim sharply. + +"What is 'going too far'?" a new voice asked out of the darkness, and +Willard McKenzie advanced into the group. "What is 'going too far'?" he +repeated, glancing from one to another. No answer being volunteered, his +keen glance quickly singled out the shamed tenderfoot. + +"What have they been up to, Danny?" he asked. + +Danny turned and faced him. + +"Nothing that makes any difference," he said. + +It was generous in him not to "peach," and so Biddie Burton's friendly +glance assured him. + +The incident passed with that, for McKenzie was full of something +repressed, and, seeing it, the boys gathered close about him in eager +questioning--all except Danny. + +All except Danny! His brief career--his career that only an hour ago +had promised so much--had ended, and in disgrace. He had taken a +dare! Nothing would ever matter to him again--Danny told his aching +heart--the boys despised him, all except Biddie Burton, and, somehow, +Biddie's pity was harder to bear than despite. + +"I went to the gap and wired Mr. Gordon," McKenzie was saying now, +"and he told me I could put you to it at once. He's had an accident to +his car and may not get here for some time." + +"What's up?" It was Roger who asked the question. + +"Something serious," answered McKenzie, "but Mr. Gordon didn't say +what. Have you had supper?" + +They replied in concert, eager to receive orders. + +"Well," continued McKenzie, "we've got to cover the mountain here, for +signs of--anything unusual. You'll have to be careful not to run into +trouble yourselves, but you must know your ground. There'll be a good +moon if the clouds break." + +"Glory be!" Danny heard Elsie Whitman breathe in expectant ecstasy, +and he would have given the world to have felt with him that eager +joy. But Danny had taken a dare! + +The others were chattering now, as eager as Whitman to be off on the +trail of adventure. + +McKenzie was giving orders: + +"Whitman, you can take the north trail, and bear down over the +mountain. Ham will strike out down the creek to the left there, and +work around to your territory. There's an old cabin hidden by +scrub-oaks and rocks about a quarter below the bridge there, Ham. Know +it for what it is, but don't you run your long neck into danger." + +In spite of his hurt Danny was getting interested. He crept up on the +outer edge of the group and listened, wide-eyed, as the other boys +eagerly accepted their several commissions. + +"Roger and Ed," their leader was continuing, "bear south till you get +below the drop of the cliff, and then separate and work that +territory between you"--with a sweeping gesture. "Alex and Biddie--let +me see--you two go over the mountain to the right of Elsie--No, +there's the Death Head trail--" He paused a moment in thoughtful +survey of them, and the boys looked at each other apprehensively. Not +one of them was anxious to work the trail of evil name. Suddenly, +however, McKenzie's eyes lighted on Danny Harding, and an inspiration +seemed to come to him. + +"Say," he exclaimed, "I'll give the new recruit a chance at that. Come +here, scout." And he laid a kind hand on Danny's shoulder and drew him +into the circle. + +Somebody on the outskirts of the group laughed. + +"Now you are going to do your first service for your country," +McKenzie said to the tenderfoot; "but whatever you do, be wary, +because----" + +Somebody else laughed, and McKenzie looked about sharply. "What's the +joke?" he asked. + +"Danny's afraid," the mocker explained; "that's where the dead man +swings." + +Biddie strolled forward. "Alex will be enough to work Elsie's right," +he said to McKenzie. "Give me the Death Head trail. You'll need Dan +here about the camp." + +But Danny raised his head quickly. It is true that his face was +dead-white, but his head was up. + +"I'll go to the Death Head," he said to McKenzie. + +The crowd was dumb-struck. + +"But you got white-livered and backed down--" L. C. began, after the +first shock of his surprise. + +"I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the tenderfoot, "but this +is--different." And he added in his heart: "This is for _my country_." + +"But he _is_ afraid," put in Roger. "Look at him!" + +McKenzie took a long, straight look into Danny's white face and +determined eyes, and then turned to Roger. + +"All the gamer of him," he said, "to go in spite of being +afraid--that's the stuff that Pershing is looking for. And Mr. Gordon +says that a boy who 'isn't afraid of anything' hasn't sense enough to +be trusted with a commission. "Kid," he continued, turning to Danny, +"you find out all that there is to be known about the Death Head +vicinity before you show up in camp again." + +"All right," said Danny. + +There was a gasp of surprise among them at the tenderfoot's final +acceptance of the commission, but not one of them--not even +Biddie--believed that he would be able to carry it through. And the +sensitive, high-strung Danny went out from among them burdened with +the feeling that they did not look for him to succeed. + +McKenzie walked a little way with him--big-brother fashion, with an +arm over his shoulder--and gave him careful directions as to how to +proceed. There would be a moon if the clouds broke, his leader warned +him, and he was to keep to the shadows. + +"I'll be leaving camp myself," said McKenzie, "and will not show up +again for a couple of hours. You will probably get back before the +rest of us, so just roll up in your blanket and lie close under that +ledge yonder--you will be perfectly safe there." A little farther up +the mountain trail and McKenzie paused. + +"Never mind about the dead man, scout," he admonished finally, "but +keep your eye peeled for the live one, and--'the best of luck!'" + +"'The best of luck!'" That was what the men at the front said to a +fellow when he was going over the top of the shielding trench into the +dangerous unknown. + +At the familiar phrase in parting, Danny drew a quick, deep breath. +Yes, he was going "over the top"--and he was going _alone_! + +Then McKenzie slipped quietly back, and Danny started forward up the +long, dark trail alone. The ghost of a moon showed dimly through the +black cloud-rack, now and again, and fitfully relieved the enveloping +darkness. + +Only once did Danny look back. That was when he came to the first turn +in the mountain trail which his leader had carefully explained to him. +Beyond that turn, and it would be good-by to the last cheering, +reassuring gleam of their camp-fire, to the last faint sound of +comforting voices. + +Danny paused and looked back. Only two remained in the bright circle +toward which his rapidly chilling spirit was reaching back. He +recognized at once the tall, slim form of McKenzie, but---- Yes, that +chunky one was Biddie Burton. The two of them were standing close +together, talking earnestly. And now Danny caught, by a sudden leap of +the firelight, the fact that they were looking toward him. Biddie was +nodding. + +It was so bright, so safe back there where they had laughed and +feasted and wrangled together. Then suddenly Danny thought of the +young crucifer in the little Church of the Holy Innocents. + +"Onward, Christian Soldiers!" + +The next moment Danny was groping, feeling his trembling way, but that +way was _onward_. The heart in his breast beat an alarm to every nerve +in his body, but he kept his face toward the dim, dark trail. A lump +rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. He gulped it down, and +crept forward. + +McKenzie had told him that a scout must keep his head. That was the +hardest part. A fellow could force himself to go blindly to a haunted +spot at night, but to think, to plan, to watch as he went----! + +But he was a scout, and a scout must "be prepared." Danny forced +himself to think as he went. He was not following that gruesome trail +in response to Whitman's dare--he was scouting old Death Head in the +service of his country. + +Danny found that he could follow McKenzie's directions better than he +had hoped. Now that his eyes were thoroughly accustomed to the dark, +he could descry the blacker landmarks for which his leader had +prepared him. After the turn in the mountain trail, an abrupt and +jagged cliff ahead beckoned the way. The shadow of the cliff won, +Danny waited for another appearance of the pale, cold moon by the help +of whose light he hoped to locate the three giant pines--his next +objective. From the pines, McKenzie had told him, old Death Head could +be sighted plainly enough, for from that point it was silhouetted, +black and unmistakable, against the sky, and its summit was marked by +the stark, white, blasted tree of evil fame. + +"That's where the dead man swings!" echoed in Danny's memory. And for +a moment it seemed that he _must_ give up and fly back to safety. But +something said: "I'll disown you, sir!" And Danny again turned his +face in the direction of his duty. + +The moon looked out of the drifting clouds. Danny located the three +giant pines in the distance, and for one blessed moment saw a +reasonably clear path, skirting along the mountainside. + +Darkness again! But Danny took the skirting path to the pine giants. + +Once he nearly lost his nerve altogether, for suddenly there was +behind him a sound as if some human foot had stumbled. The tenderfoot +dropped warily to the long grass at one side of the path, and +listened. A long, long time he listened, but not another sound did he +hear. At length he told himself that the step was that of some wild +creature which he had disturbed. + +Then forward again! Creeping, panther-footed. + +Danny reached the pines at last--and sure enough, old Death Head rose +all too plainly before him. He saw, or thought he saw, a tall white +something on its summit. + +In thinking it over afterward, Danny was never quite sure just what +happened between the pines and the haunted tree. He had a vague +recollection of imagining that step behind again, and he recalled at +one point the almost welcome pain of a stubbed toe. But for the rest, +he was too frightened to take it all in. + +By the time the tenderfoot reached the summit of old Death Head and +stood within fifty feet of the haunted tree, he was too frightened to +move, and he almost _expected_ to see the thing which he most feared. +The sky was overcast again, but a dim white something towered before +him--the haunted tree--and--and----! + +But just at that moment the clouds broke, and the full moon, now all +unveiled, flooded the scene with light. + +Naked, stark, ghostly, the blasted pine-tree rose before him. With a +sudden spasm at his heart Danny looked for the swinging dead man. But +if anything unearthly hung from those bare white branches, his mortal +eyes were spared the vision. And presently his awakening reason began +to urge: "There are no such things as 'ghosts.'" + +The next moment the young scout came fully to himself, and withdrew +quickly from the all-revealing flood of moonlight to the friendly +shadow of a low shrub. He began to peer sharply about. The growth +around was ragged, with great spaces between. If there was anything +here that a scout ought to note, the opportunity was ideal. + +He must perform the duty for which he was here! His leader had told +him to know the spot before he showed up in camp again. + +Danny began skirting about in the shadows, getting every angle he +could on the scene, and exploring adjacent wood lanes. It is true that +he kept well away from the haunted tree, but he came back to its +vicinity every now and then. And each time as he came he managed to +force himself to approach it closer. + +Nearer and nearer he got to it, and then, suddenly, he heard issue +from somewhere in its branches a low, sighing moan. Danny thought he +would drop in his tracks, but he did not. Instead, he stood as still +as death and listened. + +That moan again! Every time a gust of wind came, the dim, weird sound +trembled along the night. + +The moon was shining brilliantly now. Danny stood staring at the +haunted tree. + +All at once he crept forward, sharply intent on something. + +What was that straight black line against the sky? Where did it come +from?--that haunted tree? + +Another moment and Danny was at the foot of the ghostly pine-tree, +staring upward at the crisscross of its naked branches. + +There was no swinging dead man there, but there was _something_--at +the top! + +Danny dropped to the ground and retreated a little on all fours for a +better view-point. 'Way up, two parallel black bars rose against the sky. + +A scout must keep his head! + +Now, no boughs of a tree ever grew that straight! And what were those +orderly black lines which extended from one bar to the other? + +That moan again!--or--or was it the sound of a wire, played upon by +the wind? + +Danny shifted his position again. + +Yes, that black line across the sky connected directly with the queer +something in the tree top. + +"_Wireless!_" said the scout's head to him. + +Danny stood up. All childish fear of a swinging ghost had dropped away +from him. He had not the slightest inclination now to cry like a baby +about anything. + +He was a scout on duty! + +Another moment and he was creeping, velvet-footed, through the woods, +following that black line as it led away from the haunted tree. At the +other end of it must be a receiving-station! + +And it was no easy task which his duty set him. Over sharp rocks and +through tangled briers that black line led him on. Sometimes the moon +would desert him and he would lose the clue for a while. Sometimes he +would be forced to abandon his clue to skirt around an insuperable +barrier. But he always came back to it, always pressed on. + +On and on! And then, suddenly, the line disappeared. It ended, or +seemed to end in a large pile of boulders which clung to the +mountainside. The undergrowth was dense here. + +Danny circled about the spot. Yes, the wire stopped here. He began +creeping through the underbrush--feeling his way along the side of a +great boulder. + +Suddenly his hand touched--_nothing_! + +The scout stopped and thought. There was some sort of break in the +rock here. + +Danny had a flashlight in his pocket which he had been too cautious to +use. He thought of it now, and hesitated. Then he slipped it out and +pressed the spring. + +Before him was what seemed the door of a cave. He looked closer. Yes, +the wire led into the cave. Darkness, again, for he was afraid to use +his light any longer. + +Danny dropped to his all-fours and crept into the black hole. A floor +of soft sand helped him to advance noiselessly. After a few yards the +scout reached a turn in the rocky passageway, and---- + +His eye caught a big, black-hooded shadow humped over a point of light! + +Danny withdrew quickly behind the sheltering turn in the wall, and +crouched in the sand, dead-still. But his blood was up. He took a +second look. + +A man was sitting over some sort of instrument, and over his ears were +cups, something like Danny had seen worn by the girl at the telephone +central station. The one point of light in the big dark recess was +turned on a note-book under the man's hand. + +The young scout drew back, and crept silently out of the cavern. + +Out under the stars again, and this time with his blood on fire! A +spy, a German spy sat in that cave and sent messages----! + +Only yesterday a fleet of transports had slipped out of the harbor, +with thousands of American soldiers on board--submarines--sea-raiders! + +But a scout must keep his head. + +Help? Which way could help be found? The boys were scattered, McKenzie +would not be in camp. Nobody knew when to expect Mr. Gordon. + +Which way? Which way? Oh, yes, down over the drop of the cliff to the +south yonder was the mountain wagon road by which their scouting party +had ascended that afternoon. If he could get to the road he could find +somebody somewhere--surely, there were a few inhabitants hereabouts! + +That German was sending wireless messages right this minute---- Yes, +the shortest way to the road was the only way for a fellow to take +now! And Danny took it. + +When he reached the cliff, spent and sore, a new difficulty presented +itself. A sheer fifty-foot drop still separated him from the road. He +crept along the edge searching for a footing by which to descend, and +presently found one that looked possible. There were broken, shelving +places here, and tufts of growing things down the face of the dizzy wall. + +Danny began to climb down. But he found it harder than he had thought, +and at times he was a mere human fly clinging to a rock wall. + +[Illustration: A man was sitting over some sort of instrument.] + +Nearly down--only about fifteen feet more! But at that moment the +human fly's hold crumbled under his clinging fingers, and he dropped. +It ought not to have been a bad fall, but the trouble was a loosened +rock followed, and came down on one arm as its owner lay prostrate on +the ground. + +Danny lay very still for a few moments, looking at the stars and +thinking of--nothing! + +Then presently the sound of human voices came to him from somewhere +out of the night. With an effort he raised up a little to push off the +stone from his arm, but he dropped back again. + +The stars began to swim at that, and the voices to grow fantastic. + +But a scout--must--keep--his head! + +Those voices sounded familiar! Danny summoned all his strength, and +sent the wavering call of a wounded whippoorwill along the night. + +Silence, and then a whippoorwill answered sharply from out the forest. + +Danny called again. + +Shortly after that came low voices and the sound of hurrying feet. +Then Mr. Gordon, the Scout Master, McKenzie, their leader, and jolly +old Biddie Burton were hovering over him. + +"Are you hurt?" they asked in one breath. + +But Danny cried out feverishly: "There's a German spy sending wireless +messages from old Death Head, and our transports have put to sea!" And +he told them, brokenly, the story of his find. + +There was consternation among them for one brief moment, and then +everybody woke to action. + +They must get the man at once--but _which way_ to go? + +Mr. Gordon spoke quickly: + +"You stay with Danny, Burton; McKenzie and I will go back to the Death +Head and follow the clue from there." And even as he spoke he and +McKenzie were hurriedly, but tenderly, binding up the wounded arm, +while Biddie improvised a comforting sling for it. + +But Danny knew that the route by way of old Death Head was long and +circuitous. And he knew also that the shortest way is the only way to +take when one's duty to one's country calls. + +He got to his feet. + +"I'll show you the shortest way," he said. + + * * * * * + +How they found means of scaling the cliff, how they accomplished their +stealthy journey back to the hidden wireless station, piloted by the +wounded tenderfoot whom they supported at every step, is too long a +story to tell. + +But they reached the mouth of the dark cave. The two boys were left +outside, and very shortly thereafter Mr. Gordon and McKenzie brought +out between them a big shadowy figure with its hands bound together. + + * * * * * + +That night, the east-bound passenger was flagged at the little station +in the valley, and there boarded it a squad of boy scouts with their +leaders, who guarded between them a captured German spy. + +"Gordon, how did you manage it?" called a voice, from some distance +down the long coach as they entered. + +For answer, Mr. Gordon took hold of a little boy who wore his left arm +in a sling and, pushing him gently forward, said before that whole car +full of curious, excited people: + +"We had an American on guard to-night." + + * * * * * + +The Probate Judge's office in the old courthouse on the square was, +the next morning, the scene of a most unusual gathering. + +Danny and his mother had been asked by the Scout Master to meet him +there at ten o'clock. Mr. Gordon had sent his request in the form of a +brief note which explained that the Boy Scout Court of Honor was to be +in session that morning, and said that he wished his youngest scout to +be present. + +Danny's mother was strangely elated over the request, but Danny did +not know why. He was so young in the business of scouting that some +details of the system had not yet become definitely his. + +He ventured one surmise when the note was read--something in +connection with the taking of that German spy, of course. Maybe the +Whippoorwills were to be commended for delivering the goods. And +Danny's mind's eye recalled again the stirring scene--McKenzie and Mr. +Gordon marshalling to the station between them the big German whom +they had captured and bound, and he and the other scouts trudging +along in excited escort. It was a wonderful thing to be a man, Danny +thought wistfully--to be big and strong enough to lay a compelling +hand on the enemy in our midst and say: + +"I want you!" + +But it will have to be recorded that Danny's mother acted a little +queerly on receipt of the note. When Danny said that perhaps the +Whippoorwills were to be commended for "delivering the goods," his +mother looked up at him quickly, as if in surprise. Then she laughed a +little and cried a little, and then she dashed off for her hat and +wraps like a girl. + +At ten o'clock sharp, Danny and his mother presented themselves at +Judge Sledge's door. As they paused to knock, a voice came to them +through the closed door--a familiar voice, and it sounded very +earnest. Then the door was opened in response to their knock. + +They hesitated a moment while they took in the quiet, dignified scene +within. Portly old Judge Sledge was sitting well forward in his office +chair with his spectacles pushed back upon his bald head, while Doctor +Cranfield and several gentlemen whom Danny knew only by sight were +grouped about him. All were in the attitude of listening intently to a +man who stood before them--Mr. Gordon. + +Danny's quick glance took in all this, including the background of +khaki-clad Whippoorwills, plastered against the wall beyond. + +The gentlemen rose, on the entrance of Mrs. Harding, and the scouts +crowded forward to whisper excitedly to Danny. + +But Danny did not have time to listen to them, for Doctor +Cranfield--taking him by his good arm--turned him about, and said to +the company: + +"This is the boy." + +There was an agonizing moment to Danny in which he realized that +everybody in the room was looking at him. Then he had to be +introduced. It was very, very trying, for each man to whom Danny gave +his hand in greeting looked him over from head to foot, and made +embarrassingly personal, if kindly, remarks about him. + +"He was a small chap for the job." + +"He ought to be _red-headed_." + +"He was his mother's son." + +Danny looked across the group into his mother's eyes and caught there +an expression which he was never to forget. And she was smiling--in +spite of the tear-mist over her beautiful eyes--she was smiling. + +When they resumed their seats, there returned upon the group the touch +of ceremonial quiet and earnestness which the entrance of the +newcomers had for the moment dispelled. + +Mr. Gordon took a chair behind Mrs. Harding and explained to her and +Danny in a low tone that the session was nearly over. Judge Sledge had +been compelled to convene the court earlier than the appointed hour. + +The other men were talking apart. Presently, one of them turned to the +Scout Master and said: + +"Following what you have just related, Mr. Gordon--do you think that +it was quite wise in your patrol leader to send out a mere tenderfoot +on a really dangerous commission?" + +Mr. Gordon was about to reply, when McKenzie stepped forward and +saluted. "May I answer that?" he asked. + +The court assented, and all turned to hear. + +"Our private advices had been," began McKenzie, with his Indianlike +figure drawn up to its full height, "that it was Camelback Mountain +which was under suspicion. We located our camp on a parallel range, +and miles from the suspected vicinity. Mr. Gordon and I and several of +the older boys were later to take in hand the serious work of +Camelback, but we thought it well to give the others a little +experience. I had not intended to employ the tenderfoot till I +overheard the boys teasing him. I sent him to the Death Head to redeem +himself in his own eyes and in theirs." + +"Please, may I speak?" Biddie Burton had come forward eagerly. + +With the permission of the judge, Biddie hurried on: + +"Without letting the other boys know, McKenzie told me to follow Danny +in case his courage should give out completely. But he gave me my +orders to keep well in the rear. He wanted Dan to go to the haunted +tree by himself, if he would--to win his spurs, you see." + +"Did you follow Harding all the way?" someone interrupted. + +"All the way to the haunted tree? Yes, sir, and he _did_ go! He went +right up to it and circled all about it. Then the earth seemed to open +and swallow him up. I looked and looked for him. Then I ran back for +help. I found McKenzie and Mr. Gordon, and we all three started out +after Dan. You have heard the rest." + +This seemed satisfactory, and the judge turned to Danny. + +"Come here, Daniel," he said, "and tell the court now how you captured +your wireless operator." + +Danny started. + +"I didn't do it, sir," he said in embarrassment. "Mr. Gordon and +Willard McKenzie captured the man. I only showed them where he was." + +The men exchanged glances. + +"Well," said the judge, again, "come here and tell us what you _did do_." + +Danny came forward. + +"Salute!" he heard Biddie whisper. + +Danny saluted. + +"Now," said the judge, "tell these gentlemen here what--what you told +_your mother_ when you got back from the mountains last night." + +Danny looked at his mother. Her eyes were misty again, but she was +nodding to him to do as the judge directed. + +The tenderfoot stood embarrassed before them and told the story +exactly as he had related it to his mother. He didn't like to do this, +for he was very much ashamed of having to tell how frightened he had +been, and how he had had to force himself to go forward. + +The men listened intently. Once in a while one would interrupt to ask +a question. + +When Danny got to the point in his story of his acceptance of +McKenzie's commission to cover old Death Head, a dark-eyed, quiet man +on the judge's right leaned forward. + +"One moment, Harding," he said. "McKenzie told us before you entered +that you were afraid to go when the boys dared you, but that when he +told you to go on the scouting trip, you said, 'this is different.' +What did you mean by its being 'different'?" + +Danny looked up from his nervous fingering of the judge's +paper-weight. + +"I meant that it was for my country," he answered simply. + +The dark-eyed man glanced at the others. + +"_Beat that_," he said in a low tone to them. + +Judge Sledge took down his spectacles from his bald head, adjusted +them on his nose, and looked hard at the boy. + +"Proceed," he commanded, after a moment. + +Danny proceeded. + +"Weren't you afraid to crawl into that cave?" one of them asked in the +course of the story. + +"Yes, sir," said Danny. + +Later, another interrupted with: + +"But if your arm was broken and paining you, why didn't you stay with +Burton, there, and let the others go by the way of Death Head, and +take up the clue you had followed?" + +"Why, you see," answered Danny, "we had to get to the man quickly to +stop his telegraphing. I knew a short route to him." + +"Exactly," said the judge, nodding, then he turned to the men about him. + +"All right, gentlemen?" he asked. + +There was a whispered conference of a few moments, and then, to +Danny's surprise, they all turned to him. + +"Daniel," said the judge, "do you know why this Court of Honor has +been called into session?" + +Danny's glance swept the khaki-clad figures against the wall--he +looked at Mr. Gordon. + +"I hope," he answered to the judge, "that you like what we did." + +"Yes," said the judge, smiling this time, "yes, the Whippoorwills are +quite in our good graces, and we commend the promptness and efficiency +of Mr. Gordon and your leader, McKenzie. However, this court has been +called together to sit in judgment on _your_ part in last night's +performance. Daniel, do you realize that you have done bravely and +well?" + +Danny stood for one moment, stunned by the dawning realization of +what this meant. Then he looked across at his mother. Life holds for a +boy no higher, happier moment than that in which he realizes he has +made his mother proud of him. + +Without waiting for him to reply, the judge was continuing: + +"This court finds, Danny, that in spite of very human, very natural +fears, and at the cost of suffering to yourself, you performed a +service to your country which may be more far-reaching than any of us +dream. And if there is anything braver than the conquering of fear, +anything more manly than the voluntary endurance of pain for a high +cause, or any earthly motive of action higher than one's duty to one's +country, we have never found it. + +"Now, Son, it is not within the power of this, our local court, to +confer upon you what we think you deserve. It is ours, however, to +recommend to the Boy Scout National Court of Honor that you be awarded +the Honor Medal. This we are going to do because we believe you have +saved more than life by your prompt action, and we know that you did it +at the cost of suffering to yourself and at the risk of your own life." + + * * * * * + +When, a few weeks later, the Honor Medal did arrive and was pinned +upon Danny's breast, the young scout found it necessary to take his +little mother in hand. + +"'If you cry like a baby,'" he whispered laughingly but with his arms +about her, "'I'll _disown_ you!'" + + + + +UNDER THE FLAG + + +"_Louise!_" + +The little girl came to a halt suddenly and nearly dropped her +book-satchel. Somebody had called her name--some startling, mysterious +voice had called her! + +She looked hurriedly about, but there was nobody in sight--nobody but +a saucy squirrel perched upon a park bench, and a redbird flitting +along the open between the enclosing hawthorns. + +Which one had called? + +"_Louise!_" + +The little girl started back, too frightened to scream--it was the +hawthorn! + +But the next moment a boyish bullet-head appeared between parted boughs. + +"Come here!" exclaimed its owner in suppressed excitement. "We've got +something to tell you!" + +Down went the book-satchel, but not in fear this time. Billy Hastings +had called--called excitedly--and Billy was known to furnish nearly +all the third-grade thrills there were. So the next moment Louise was +stooping her way under the hawthorn boughs in answer to her +playfellow's summons. + +Billy was not alone in the green grotto in which Louise presently +found herself, for nearly half the third-grade members were there. +There was wide-eyed Tinsie Willis, with her little frilly skirts +bristling with excitement, with Mamie Moore swallowing to keep back +hysterical tears, and Sadie and Lallie Raiford, with their backs to +each other for safe-keeping. And there were boys, a whole mob of boys! + +The children were huddled together in suppressed excitement, and were +whispering all at the same time. It was plain that something terrible, +something menacing, had happened. + +"You know that new boy that came to school this morning--?" began one. + +"That 'Rudolph Kreisler'?" put in another. + +"Sh-h-h!" interrupted a third wildly. + +But Billy Hastings thrust his red, round face close to Louise's and +announced in a blood-curdling whisper: + +"_Rudolph Kreisler is a German spy!_" + +Louise's legs crumpled under her, and she sat down in a heap. + +Again they were all talking at the same time, and this time at her. + +"He's got his trousers' pockets just _full_ of something!" exclaimed +Pete Laslie. + +"And he's watching, _watching_!" put in another. "Didn't you see him +sitting off there by himself looking at us while we played ball?" + +"Spying!" hissed Luke Musgrove over Billy Hastings's shoulder. + +The children started and looked about apprehensively. Luke's words +always carried weight by reason of the fact that he had been two years +in the third grade and ought to know what he was talking about if he +didn't. + +"Yes," chimed in Billy, coming close to Louise again and speaking in +his most dramatic tone. "Just you dare to draw a deep breath, and +he'll tell the Kaiser on you!" + +Louise gasped--a short, a curtailed little gasp. Never till the Great +War should be over would she breathe from her diaphragm again! + +"Oh-o-o-o, _Louise_!" from round-eyed Tinsie Willis. + +"_What?_" + +"You've left your book-satchel out there in the path! Just suppose he +were to come by and see it!" + +There was a moment of consternation, of wild chattering, in which +everybody poked his head out to see, but nobody would venture far +enough to get the incriminating satchel. + +Then Tommie Warren had an inspiration. Snatching a crooked-handle +umbrella from Ella Vaiden, he flung himself flat on the grass and +reached for the tell-tale satchel with the crook. + +"It's a good thing Ella brought that umbrella!" exclaimed Tinsie. And +all looked at Ella, who stood up very straight in spite of the +low-dipping boughs. The next moment Louise had her beloved +book-satchel hugged close to her pounding heart. + +"Sh-h-h!" suddenly came from a self-constituted sentinel. + +"_What?_" + +"_He's coming!_" + +The crowd in the bushes stood tiptoe and breathless as the German spy +came down the hawthorn path. + +He was a small lad--small for the third grade--with big blue eyes and +a shock of tawny hair. The Kaiser had not equipped him very well, for +there was a suggestion of poverty about his mended clothes. But, after +all, maybe those carefully darned places at his knees were only a part +of an adroit disguise. His pockets _were_ bulging, and with +knotty-looking somethings very suggestive of poorly concealed bombs. +He was not whistling, as a perfectly good American would have been, +but walked slowly and with his head down. It was very suspicious! + +He passed. + +"Let's get him now!" suggested Luke. + +"Good!" exclaimed Billy. "Get some rocks!" And instantly all was +excitement, the uncensored noise of which reached the little German +and caused him to take to his heels. + +In the confusion of the next few moments Louise scarcely realized what +they were about. But when they tore out of the bushes, snatching up +rocks as they went, and rushed after their flying prey, her heart +stood still. He was such a _little_ boy! + +With the back of her hand pressed tight against the sobs that would +not be stifled, and with tears raining down her cheeks, the little +girl followed in the wake of the howling mob. + +Then somebody rounded a hawthorn bush and came bang up against her. It +was Jimmie Fisher, a big, red-headed rock of strength, who could carry +lightly the heaviest book-satchels there were. + +"What are you crying about?" he asked, after his first quick survey of +her. + +"They--they are killing Rudolph Kreisler!" sobbed Louise. + +"No," assured Jimmie, "he'll get home free. He lives just across +there. Are these your books?" + + * * * * * + +The next day matters only grew worse. + +The whole atmosphere of the third grade had become electric with +suspicion of a certain little boy who, looking neither to right nor to +left, kept his wistful blue eyes bent on the task before him. When +Rudolph stood up at the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, Luke +growled out that he was "just pretending." And when, from his seat +near the door, the German lad answered the knock of a visitor, Ella +Vaiden whispered audibly: + +"See _that_? He wants to see _who's there_!" + +In recitation Rudolph answered the questions put to him with +despicable German efficiency, but Luke missed with conspicuous +patriotism and went noisily foot. + +But through it all Louise was doing her own thinking. She was a loyal +little citizen and loved her country with all her heart; but there +flowed through her veins the blood of a long line of Americans who +had been just and fair. The little girl was afraid of German +spies--afraid for her country--and Rudolph Kreisler's pockets did +bulge ominously. If Rudolph Kreisler _was_ a German spy, why he would +have to be dealt with, of course. + +But if he wasn't----? + +Louise wished with all her heart that Miss Barclay, the teacher, would +suspect this terrible smothered tragedy that was being enacted within +her class. Of course one's teacher, like one's mother, could solve +every problem; and Miss Barclay in particular could command the storms +of childhood to be still. If only Miss Barclay knew! + +But in third-grade ethics it was "dishonorable" to "tattle," so Louise +was compelled to hold her peace and think fast. There were recesses +ahead in which covertly cruel things might happen, and an after-school +walk through a lonely park from which a real _little_ boy might not +get home free. Something must be done. + +At first recess the boys and girls were, as usual, separated in their +play, but Louise--observing from afar--saw that the little German sat +by himself on the steps, and watched the spirited ball-play of the +others with keen alertness. Yes, it was very suspicious. + +Big recess brought with it an unusual privilege that day. The +third-grade boys and girls were to be allowed to mingle together and +on the front lawn, in order to keep them from under the feet of +certain workmen who were making excavations through the +school-grounds. + +This was all very thrilling, for it was from a tall staff on the front +lawn that their beautiful new flag was floating, and to-day they would +be able to see it close--to touch the pole with their very hands! +Then, too, it would be so remarkable to play with _boys_. + +Louise pondered it all as the third-grade girls filed down to their +lunch-room. Rudolph Kreisler was not there, of course, but Rudolph +would be with them among the other boys at play-time. She would then +be able to watch him narrowly--to keep an eye on those bulging pockets. + +All the other girls were chattering over their lunch, but Louise drank +her milk and ate her sandwich in thoughtful silence. + +Presently a hand was laid upon her heavy curls and she looked up with +a start. The principal was smiling down at her. + +"What are you thinking of, little tragedy queen?" he asked. + +Louise blushed and tried vainly to reply. + +The teacher serving the sandwiches answered the principal. + +"Of 'the impossibility of all things,'" she said with a curious +sidewise smile. + +The principal put his hand under Louise's chin and, tilting her head +back, looked deep into her eyes. + +"You must run and play a great deal," he said, and passed on. + +Then, when the last sandwich had gone the way of all good sandwiches, +they repaired to the front lawn. + +It was all so wonderful--so green and cool and stately-looking. And +there, sure enough, was the great new flag, curling and uncurling in +the fitful wind--'way up against the sky! + +The boys were already out on the green when the little girls were +marched down the steps and disbanded among them to enjoy the most +unusual privilege of joining in their games. Then, all suddenly a +great awkwardness came down upon the girls. How was one to play with +boys at recess? Of course _after school_ it came natural enough to +mingle with them, but this was not "after school"! It was most +embarrassing. + +Louise found herself timid in the chaperoned recess-presence of Jimmie +and Billy and Luke, and began to back away toward the steps. + +"Look out!" shouted Billy suddenly. + +Louise jumped to "look out." Behind her, on the bottom step, sat the +German spy. She had nearly backed into him! + +In the face of danger, embarrassment dropped away. The next moment +Louise had fled back to her countrymen and was listening, excited, to +their eager whispers. + +"Rudolph Kreisler sits by himself--always by himself. Isn't that funny?" + +"Just look at him _now_!" + +"See him watching the flag?" + +"Get that gleam in his eye? Look, quick!" + +"Old rascal! He got home free yesterday--but just you wait!" + +And so they stood apart from him and whispered. + +The German spy dug his toes in the sand a little longer, then rose and +moved a few steps farther up. + +Then Ella Vaiden declared that they were wasting time, and proposed +that they begin a game. + +But nobody knew what to play. + +"I'll tell you!" exclaimed Louise. "Let's play 'Under the Flag.'" + +"What's that?" asked several. + +"Why--why--" began Louise, inventing the game as she proceeded, "it's +this way: you go stand under the flag and look up at it till the wind +blows it out straight--and--and then you make a wish. If the flag +floats wide till you have finished, your wish will come true." + +All were interested at once, and the game began. The fitful, +boisterous wind took an active part and the play became spirited. + +Tinsie Willis was the first to come "under the flag," but she was so +excited she forgot to wish till the broadly floating banner had +wrapped itself about its staff and her opportunity was gone. + +Then everybody began talking at once, and Mamie Moore piped up: "I'm +going to wish for a pair of shiny-bug slippers!" + +Louise was shocked, and quickly explained that when one wished under +the flag it must be for something serious and from the very depths of +one's heart. + +"Sure," supported Jimmie of the red head. "You can wish for shiny-bug +slippers under an umbrella!" + +But Mamie couldn't then think of anything more serious than the need +of gilt slippers, and was promptly ruled out till her imagination +should come to her assistance. + +Several boys took turns next, but they were so noisy and boisterous +that they came near spoiling everything. + +Then Flora Archer took her place. Flora was a thoughtful little girl +who carried around in her eyes a deep, deep something people never +understood. With her lips close to the flagpole, she whispered her +message to it, and all the while the beautiful banner streamed out to +its farthest length. + +Flora came back without speaking, and the children looked at her in +curious silence. But when the others were noisily choosing times +again, Flora slipped her hand into Louise's and whispered: + +"I wished for our soldiers to win in the war, but for them not to be +cruel when they do." + +"Yours, Louise!" exclaimed somebody. + +And before Louise had time to examine the depths of her heart to see +what it was she most desired, a half-dozen pair of friendly hands +pushed her forward. It was no time to hold back--to spoil the game. +Louise mounted the green knoll from which the great flagpole rose. + +But she did not at once look up. Her glance had accidentally lighted +on the lonely figure on the steps, and was resting there for a moment +in startled contemplation. + +He was such a _little_ boy, and he seemed so--apart! But one must make +no mistakes where one's country was involved. _Were_ his blue eyes +"gleaming" with vengeful purpose? Or were they only full--of shining +tears? + +"Look up! Look up!" the children called. + +Louise threw back her head--threw it back so far that the familiar +scene about her became lost to her view and she beheld nothing but the +vision above. Amid the battling tree tops and against a threatening +sky the flag of freedom streamed out in all its rippling glory--red +for the courage of American hearts, white for the purity of purpose +they should harbor, and blue for truth, like that higher, farther +heaven above the gathering clouds. Now rippling, now curling, +wreathing, snapping, and now--straight out, fronting the coming storm! + +"Quick! Quick!" the children shouted, as Old Glory floated free. + +Suddenly the child stretched up her hands. It was not a wish, but a +prayer, that her young heart sent up to her country's flag. + +"Help me to--play fair!" she whispered. + +Louise saw her comrades only mistily when she came down the green +knoll again toward them. + +Then all became babel again. + +"It's my time next!" exclaimed Luke Musgrove, shouldering forward. + +"Who said so?" demanded another. + +"_I_ said so," answered the big boy rudely, and he strode to his place +against the flagpole. "I wish," he began in a loud, strident voice, +and without waiting for the wind to come hurtling across the green, "I +wish _to wring the neck of that German spy_!" + +All eyes were quickly turned from the flag to where a little wide-eyed +boy shrank back in terror against the steps. + +"Glory be!" shouted Billy Hastings. "Teacher's gone in--let's drag +Rudolph under the flag!" + +Instantly the flame of persecution swept them, and they started after +the alien lad. + +But at the foot of the steps somebody blocked the way. Louise Carey +had flung herself between. + +"It's not fair, and you _shan't_!" she cried. + +The astonished mob wavered in indecision. + +"'Not _fair_?'" echoed Luke with a jeer. + +"No," stormed Louise. "We didn't _ask_ him to come under the flag, and +you shan't _make_ him do it!" + +"We'll see about that--" began Luke. + +"_That we will!_" put in Jimmie Fisher, but it was not to Louise that +he spoke. He was talking to Luke, and he planted himself protectingly +in front of Louise and the little German, and faced the third-grade +bully. Never before in her life had Louise realized how beautiful was +a shock of bristling red hair. + +The third-grade bully was growling now, but in a decidedly lower key. + +"Now, then"--Jimmie was speaking to Louise this time--"you are bossing +this game. Say what you want done with that--that--" and he looked at +the frightened Rudolph. + +Louise glanced up at the flag. It was floating now--broad and free +enough to cover all who might come. + +"I am going to _invite_ Rudolph to come under our flag," she said. + +The children gasped as Louise held out her hand to the little alien. + +"Won't you come and be American with us?" she asked kindly. + +The boy drew back a moment while his blue eyes searched her face for +whatever hidden cruelty might lurk beneath its seeming sweetness. Then +he smiled--a timid, but trusting smile--and rising, took her extended +hand. + +But Billy Hastings called jeeringly: "He's a sneak! He's just doing it +to pretend!" + +"He knows I'd drag him if he didn't come!" exclaimed another. + +"Coward! _Coward!_" yelled Luke. "You're afraid to refuse!" + +And then, all suddenly, something in the German lad flamed up. He +snatched his hand from Louise's. He stood to his full height with +blazing eyes, and cried: + +"It's a lie!" + +The sound of the school-bell broke the startled quiet which followed +the alien's spirited revolt. + +"_Please_," pleaded Louise, "don't mind them! You've time yet to come +under the flag." + +But Rudolph stood indignant, immovable. + +"Get to your lines, children," and the principal's call-bell was heard +tapping above on the porch. + +A group of boys came suddenly together into a tight bunch. + +"We'll fix him after school," Louise heard them threaten. And she knew +that Rudolph heard it, too--knew by the sudden whiteness which swept +over his face. + +The next minute the boys and girls were drawn up in parallel lines +ready to march into the schoolhouse. Louise was at the end of her +line and Rudolph Kreisler was the last on the boys' row. They were +opposite each other. + +"Eyes front--march!" came the command, and the lines moved forward +with one impulse. + +"Eyes front!" But to save her life Louise could not help stealing a +sidelong glance at Rudolph. + +To her horror she saw the little alien slip quietly behind a rose-bush +and drop out of sight into the bricked-up area which furnished +window-space for the basement. + +With a flash Louise remembered that those windows communicated +directly with the engine-room, and that the engine-room was directly +under the third grade. + +"Pay attention, Louise," came from the porch, and Louise's startled, +dark eyes were turned to the front again. + +When the children were seated in their room it developed that Miss +Barclay had been temporarily called away, and that a scared-looking +girl from the teacher training-class was in charge of the third grade. + +The new teacher did not miss Rudolph, but the children did, and there +was smothered excitement in consequence. + +Louise, who had not breathed a word of what she knew, sat grasping her +desk with both hands. Rudolph Kreisler had refused to come under the +flag! Of course they had taunted him, but the stark fact remained that +he _had_ refused. And then no human being had ever seen inside those +bulging pockets. Rudolph Kreisler, bulging pockets and all, was in the +engine-room, right under their feet! + +And then a new fear suddenly laid its grip upon her heart. Suppose +that German boy should do something to the flag! She tried to shift +her position so that she could see out of the window, but found it +impossible. + +"Oh-o-o, teacher!" Louise jumped at the sound of excitement in the voice +from behind her, but quieted somewhat when she realized that it was +Tinsie Willis who spoke. "Louise has left her hat on the front lawn!" + +"Louise, go and get your hat," said the substitute, looking all about +the room to see which one of the many little girls might be the one +reported. + +Louise rose from her seat with fear and trembling and left the room. + +But the first glimpse of the out-of-doors dispelled her great new +fear--her flag was still there! + +The stately lawn looked vast and awe-inspiring now that one had to +face its darkly waving greens all alone, but Duty called. She had left +her hat by the flagpole, and she now went timidly up to get it. She +mounted the green knoll. She looked up. + +To play fair--to play fair! And yet, one must be loyal. One couldn't +let German spies go around with their pockets--Rudolph Kreisler was in +the engine-room right now! + +Louise's grandfather and his father's father had died for their +country--would they know, 'way up yonder in heaven, if she of their +own blood were to turn coward at the test? + +It was too poignant a risk. Louise took hep young life in her hands. +Down the green knoll and around the rose-bush, and she dropped into +the brick area right by the window which opened from the engine-room. +It was raised. + +The little girl peeped in, with her heart swelling till she thought she +would smother. There was black dust on the floor and black soot on the +walls. And there in the centre rose the huge black demon engine. But no +crouching enemy was to be seen anywhere--he was hiding, of course! + +She slipped through the window, past the great silent engine, and came +face to face with Rudolph Kreisler. + +The die was cast now. + +"Tell me," demanded Louise, choking with excitement and fear, "are you +a--a _German spy_?" + +"No," said the astonished boy, "_no_!" + +"Well, what _are_ you, then?" There was no backing down now; she was +going to have it out with him. + +"I wanted to be--American," he said, his lips threatening to quiver. +"I--I thought I was." And he looked away. + +One must know the truth when one's country was at stake. Louise drew a +quick breath. + +"Well, what are you doing with your pockets full of bombs, then?" she +forced herself to bring out. + +The little boy turned toward her again, and began slowly to draw out +the contents of those suspicious pockets. A mitt, a top, two balls, a +kite-string, a chicken-foot, a gopher, nails of various lengths, some +tobacco tags, and a grimy stick of candy were laid one by one on the +janitor's tool-bench, and the German spy stood with his pockets turned +wrong side out. + +But one must have the _whole_ truth. + +"What are you doing with balls and mitts when you sit on the steps all +the time?" the little girl demanded, but with decidedly less asperity +this time. + +"I thought maybe they'd--let me play, sometime." Something rolled down +his cheek and splashed on the front of his jacket. + +"_Won't_ they let you play?" choked Louise, blinking hard to clear her +suddenly clouded vision. + +The boy shook his head. + +"Well, why doesn't your mamma come and scold the teacher about it?" +she demanded in indignant sympathy. + +"I haven't any mamma." + +"Oh-o-o! Well, you have a papa, haven't you? Why doesn't _he_ do +something?" + +"Father says those who are born here don't know how awful it is to +have to choose----" then he stopped. + +"Doesn't your father hate Germany?" the little girl asked. + +"Why, no," said the boy. + +"Does he love America?" + +"Yes," said the boy. + +"Well! Well!" exclaimed the little girl. Then--"Do you know, Rudolph, +I'm sorry for your papa!" + +But Rudolph did not answer this time. He merely turned aside till his +face was hidden. + +Suddenly a remembered something gripped Louise. + +"Rudolph," she said, "if you _are_ American, why did you refuse to +come under the flag?" + +"I--I was going to--but they called me a 'coward,' and said I was +afraid to refuse," he answered huskily. + +Louise found herself batting very heavy lashes again. + +"I am so glad I came to you," she said, "because I never would have +known that you are not a German spy if you hadn't told me!" + +"Lou-i-i-se!" + +The two started at the call--it was in Tinsie Willis's high-pitched +voice. Evidently she had been sent to find the truant. + +"Sh-h-h!" exclaimed Louise to Rudolph. "They are after me for staying +out so long. I must go." + +"Those steps yonder lead to the front hall," said the boy. "Go up that +way." + +"But you must come, too!" Louise exclaimed. + +"I can't," replied the miserable child. "The boys are fixing to fight +me. When school is over I'll slip out and go home." + +"But why wait? Why don't you go now?" asked the little girl, a strange +uneasiness coming over her. + +"The police will get me if I go out on the street during school +hours," answered he. + +"Lou-i-i-se!" + +"I'm going," whispered Louise to Rudolph, "but _don't_ let the boys +catch you! Miss Barclay has gone--and--and--_don't_ let them catch +you, Rudolph!" + +The next moment she glided up the dark stairway and came out into the +big hall. + +Jimmie Fisher was emerging from the third-grade cloaking-room with his +hat and books. + +"Father's leaving for France with a hospital unit," he explained +hurriedly, "and mother sent for me to tell him good-by." Then he +darted away. + +Miss Barclay gone! And Jimmie gone! Had God himself deserted the third +grade? + + * * * * * + +When Louise crept back into the schoolroom--ahead of Tinsie Willis, +who was still searching for her--she found things very troublous +indeed. The children were naughty and restless, and the substitute +was--a substitute! The whole class had been told to stay in, and +Louise was promptly included in the sentence as soon as her tardy +little face appeared in the doorway. + +But she did not cry or fling herself about, for she knew she had +remained out of the room overtime. Of course it had been for a high +purpose, but that she could not explain, so she merely assented +courteously and slipped into her seat. Her grandfather and his +father's father had laid down their lives for the right--if she did +not succeed in living through that dreadful half-hour of punishment, +she would be but another of her race to die for a high cause. + +Matters grew worse, and now the wind and the sky took a hand. The +great trees outside began to battle fiercely together, and the sky +frowned, darker and darker. + +Suddenly Louise--looking out of the window--saw Perkins, the janitor, +hauling down the flag! Was the Houston Street School surrendering to +the Germans? + +For one unworthy moment Louise suspected Rudolph Kreisler again. But +she instantly afterward reminded herself that he had told her with his +own lips he wished to be American. + +Then the heavens opened and the floods came. It was a terrible, +terrible afternoon, but children and substitute managed somehow to +live through it, and after so long a time the gong sounded for the +dismissal of school. + +The children of the other grades marched out. Tramp--tramp--it sounded +terribly like a host in retreat! + +Then quiet!--with the third-graders sitting silent in their seats, +trying to calculate how many thousand years it would take for that +long clock-hand to move half-way round the dial again. + +Louise began wondering at just what point Rudolph Kreisler would steal +out of his hiding and break for home. The rain had stopped, and she +hoped and believed that the little German would make good his escape +before the third grade had finished serving sentence. + +Suddenly Luke, raising his hand, asked of the substitute: + +"May I speak to Billy Hastings on business?" + +The substitute was writing something and assented without looking up. +Louise could not help hearing the hoarsely whispered "business." + +"Connie Tipton," said Luke to Billy, "says that that German spy has +been hiding in the basement but has slipped up-stairs--" The hoarse +whisper dropped lower at this point and Louise could not catch the +words which followed. She guessed darkly, however, and clung to her +desk tighter and tighter. + +At that fateful moment the substitute looked up and said: + +"Children, the others have all gone, and it looks like rain again, so +I am going to dismiss you. File out quietly--I don't wish to have to +call you back." + +She did not rise from her seat to marshal them out, taking care that +the last one of them was out of sight of the schoolhouse before he +slackened his pace. She merely dropped her eyes to her writing again +and left them practically to their own devices. + +The boys marched through the cloaking-room first, and they were +ominously quiet about it. + +Then the little girls rose and filed out. Louise led the girls' line, +but though she followed swiftly in the wake of the boys, they had +disappeared off the face of the earth when she reached the +cloaking-room door which opened into the hall. + +They had slipped off to hunt for Rudolph Kreisler, and Louise knew it. +She hoped that Rudolph had left the building, but she was not sure. + +Something must be done--but _what_? + +Just then she caught from above the sound of tiptoeing and whispering. + +It was dishonorable to "tattle," but it wasn't dishonorable to fly +after a set of lawless boys and keep them from abusing an innocent +would-be American. Louise deserted the head of her line and darted up +the long stairs. + +It was like a frightful nightmare--the stealthy, breathless chase +which followed. She could not stop the boys in their mad search, could +not command their attention a moment to explain. In and out they +darted--fourth-grade, fifth-grade, sixth-grade, seventh! Every crack +and cranny, every cloaking-room and teacher's desk was made to prove +its innocence of sheltering the fugitive spy. The scampering boys were +just finishing their search of the seventh grade when Louise found +herself at the foot of the garret steps. + +She stopped and surveyed their boxed-up secretiveness. What if Rudolph +had gone up there? + +From the sounds of disappointment now issuing from the seventh grade +she knew that the last schoolroom to be searched had not yielded up +the quarry. Yes, Rudolph must be in the garret, and of course the boys +would pursue him there! + +Then a sudden idea came to her. If she could but reach Rudolph first +she might help him to climb out of the garret window. + +Up the dark steps she flew, but, alas! there were flying feet to +follow! The others had seen, and were coming after. + +They caught up with her before she reached the top, and she and they +burst into the long garret room together. + +It was big with mystery--that long garret place--and weirdly +frightening with its half-lights and whole shadows. For one moment the +children stood at pause before its awesome silence. + +No German spy was in sight. + +Then the boys began searching hurriedly, and after a quick glance +about the open and lighter space before them, went pushing their quest +farther and farther into the distant dark of the wings and gables. + +Louise stood where they had left her, with the feeling that _the end +of all things_ was at hand, and that there was no use to struggle +further. Presently her mist-dimmed eyes were attracted to a pile of +something over at a small window near where she stood. The janitor had +thrown their beautiful flag across an old couch without taking the +trouble to roll it properly. + +The indignant little girl started toward the couch to straighten out +and roll the flag when her ear caught a sound which caused her to +pause a moment in dim speculation. There was a step below, a firm, a +familiar step--but no, she must be mistaken! + +She slipped over to the couch, but the next moment drew back and +clapped her hand over her mouth to repress a startled scream. A little +yellow-haired boy lay asleep upon the couch, with the big flag nearly +covering him! + +Louise leaned over him. Two shining drops still lay on his cheek. He +had sobbed himself to sleep--he was such a _little_ boy! + +[Illustration: "You can't touch Rudolph!" she tried. "He's under the +flag!"] + +A drift of damp air floated in from the window, and the sleeper +shivered and moved as if to cuddle further under his shelter. Louise +very gently drew the bunting folds closer about his neck. Somehow she +_knew_ that this was not desecration. + +That steady step from below again and--nearer! + +But just at that moment the boys came noisily back from the distant +wings and gables. + +"Hello, Louise! What are you doing there?" Luke Musgrove called. + +Louise started up. She was between them and the sleeping boy, but she +could not screen him from their astonished eyes. + +"Gee, but there he is!" exclaimed Billy. "Let's----" + +But the spirit of a long line of just and fair Americans was facing +them. Louise Carey was descended from ancestors who had bought freedom +and fair play with their blood, so in that hour--when she faced the +unthinking lawless--there was a something in her eyes which brought +them to a stand before her. + +"You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under the flag!" + +A quiet fell upon them. They looked first at the sacred, sheltering +flag of their country, and then at each other. And while they yet +paused in awe there came to them the sound of a steady, familiar step +on the garret stair. The next moment the door opened and there entered +Miss Barclay--the teacher who, by her wisdom and her justice, could +always command to stillness the tempests of their childish hearts. + + + + +AMERICA FIRST + + +Little Riego Yañez was a native of Mexico--of that unhappy part of +Mexico which is constantly plundered by revolutionary bands who spend +their time in fighting, and who win their supplies by robbing the more +stable people of the republic. + +Riego's father, Antonio Yañez, had suffered many times at the hands of +the revolutionists. He was a saddler by trade, and also a small +farmer, so the products of his industry were just what the warring +bandits needed. But the warring bandits did not pay for what they +needed. They merely took, and rode away! + +So Antonio decided on a desperate step--he would emigrate to America. + +But Riego's mother objected to removing to America. Mexico was rife +with hatred and distrust of the "gringos," and many and dark were the +stories told of the country north of the Great North River. Besides, +Riego's elder brother, Pascual, an unruly lad of fifteen, was very +bitterly opposed to the change. + +So it was at length decided that Antonio should dare alone the dangers +and hardships of America. If all was as the revolutionists said, he +could escape back to Chihuahua. If, by happy chance, he should prosper +in the new country, he would send for wife and children. + +A year passed. The father's letters--few and short, for he had had +little schooling--were chiefly concerned with begging them to come and +see for themselves. + +Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the mother and children packed +into a hired wagon the tragic little which the bandits had left them, +and set their faces toward the Rio Grande. They, too, were bound for +that distrusted country which lay north of the northern edge of their +world. The mother and the two girls were hopeful, but Pascual was +silent and Riego afraid. + +Not till the night came down did they reach the dark river which was +to flow forever between the old life and the new. To little +ten-year-old Riego this all-pervading darkness meant "America," for to +his drowsy brain and anxious heart the black clouds above and the +darkly rolling waters below seemed to typify the spirit of the land +into which he was crossing. + +Another moment, however, and he had given up the struggle to think it +all out and fallen asleep with his head on his mother's lap. + +The next morning Riego waked up in a better land. + +He sat up on his cot and blinked his black eyes and stared about him +at the cosey little room. A flood of light poured in at the one tiny +window--Then the sun _did_ shine in this land of the gringos! + +This was very interesting. Riego hurried into his clothes and started +out to see America. + +His route of exploration led through a cheery kitchen, where he found +his two sisters busy cooking breakfast, and smiling and chatting at +their work. But Riego had no time to stop and question, for the green +things in the little garden beyond were beckoning to him. + +In another minute he was out among them. It was very green--this +"America"--very green and very sunny, with rows upon rows of the most +wonderful vegetables running out to meet the morning sun! + +Soon Riego glimpsed his father and mother beyond a dividing fence at +the side, and he ran at once to his father's arms. After the first +long embrace Riego drew back, the better to see the father who had +dared America alone for his children's sake. + +Why--his brow was smoother than Riego remembered!--his eyes +clearer!--Did one grow younger, happier, in America? + +And now Riego's mother was calling his attention to the snow-white +chickens which fluttered about them. There was a cow, too, Riego +learned--a cow and a pony and pigs and pigeons--and _all theirs_! + +Riego shouted for joy. But the next moment the joy died upon his lips, +and he asked: + +"The revolutionists, father? How long will they let us have these?" + +"Riego," said his father, "there are no revolutionists in America. +Here, if a man works, he receives a just reward, and he is allowed to +keep in peace what he earns. Our only danger is from across the +border." + +Then Riego's mother told him that his father had a fine saddle-shop +which the Americans never raided. + +It was all very, very wonderful!--A man was paid well for working, and +could keep in peace what he earned!--Was this what was meant by +"_America_"? + +Riego's father's saddle-shop was the front room of their little +dwelling, and opened immediately upon a small street in the Mexican +quarter of the village. It was a very interesting place, indeed, for +the wide door and the hospitable bench just inside invited in many an +entertaining visitor, besides the men who came to buy saddles or to +have their harness repaired. + +One of these visitors, Alonzo Lorente, was particularly interesting +to Riego and his brother, though their father always became moodily +quiet when the man came. Lorente was a big, dashing fellow, full of +strange oaths and of dark insinuations. And somehow, whenever he +entered, the air of the shop became electric with an indefinable +excitement. + +It did not take Riego long to see that, at such times, his father +managed to keep him and Pascual so busy that they missed most of their +hero's inspiriting talk. Riego was particularly unfortunate in this +respect. He spent little of his time in the shop where his father and +Pascual plied the saddler's trade, for it was his duty to help in the +market-garden. + +This deprivation of Lorente's society, however, had its compensations. +It was Riego's especial work to peddle their vegetables at the khaki +tents of the gringo soldiers a few miles away, and this was very +entertaining and exciting in itself, for the soldiers were jolly and +kind and said nice things to one. + +And then, one rainy Saturday afternoon, when the peddling was all +done, Riego sat in his father's shop and listened to Alonzo Lorente. +And Alonzo Lorente startled him awake with the news that all was not +well with the land of America. He spoke darkly of "gringos" and of +"vengeance." + +Pascual, Riego noticed, crept closer and closer to the big man, till +his fingers forgot the leather they should have been stretching. + +It was then that the unexpected happened. The father, usually so quiet +and so busy, suddenly rose from his work-bench and came forward. + +"Lorente," he said, and Pascual and Riego started at the iron in his +tone, "Lorente, it is not the busy men who have quarrel with America. +It is those who have time to do--much talking!" + +There was a pause and dead silence, and then Lorente the magnificent +turned on his heel with a growl and left the shop. + +Then Antonio returned to his work-bench, with Riego following, but +Pascual stole to the door and gazed at the receding Lorente till his +father called him sharply to his duties. + +One day the father did not open his shop at all. It was closed in +honor of the great American festival, Riego heard him explain grimly +to a follower of Lorente, who questioned. And Riego heard the follower +of Lorente laugh scornfully as he strode away. + +There being no work that day, Pascual and Riego set out together to +explore the yet farther reaches of America. + +But they had not gone far past the square where loomed the several +American stores when they sighted a crowd in a grove of big trees, and +heard voices shouting and hands clapping as if in great joy. A number +of gringo soldiers were roving about. Two were coming leisurely toward +them across the green. + +Riego wanted to press forward to see and hear, but his brother jerked +him by the sleeve, exclaiming: + +"It is the Americans' great feast-day, the Fourth of July. Come away!" + +"But father says _we_ are Americans now. Why can't we go and hear what +they are saying?" Riego's voice had risen in his eagerness. + +The approaching soldiers stopped and looked at him, and Riego's heart +stopped, too. + +But the taller of the soldiers saluted him in fine fashion, and +addressed to him words of courteous welcome: + +"Don Pedro de Alvarado-Rain-in-the-Face-Sitting-Bull, for such as thou +art is the picnic! Welcome to our city!" + +Riego understood the gesture of invitation. He thanked the courtly +soldier, and walked proudly forward, followed by his brother. + +It was a gay scene, but quiet now, for someone was speaking. The +starry banner of America fluttered everywhere, and smiling, +white-faced señoritas and brown-clad soldiers were gathered here and +there in listening groups. Under a tree, near the platform, sat +musicians with shining silver horns and a big drum. A number of +children were seated on the grass in front of the stand. Among them, +Riego noticed, were many dark faces like his own. + +Suddenly Riego's courage gave way and he started to retreat. But a +sweet-faced señora took him by the hand and led him and Pascual to a +place where they could see everything, whispering as they went: + +"It is our day of freedom." + +At first the boy was dazed by the strangeness of the scene, and his +interest shifted. But the sound of a sweet, ringing voice soon +compelled his attention and he turned quickly toward the platform. + +Riego caught his breath. Who was it? _What_ was it that was speaking +to him? + +In the centre of the platform stood a clear-eyed, white-faced goddess, +with the flag of the new country draped around her slender form, and +the sunlight of this day of freedom beating down upon her shining +head. She was speaking, but in the difficult new tongue. + +Riego could not take his eyes away, but he reached out his hand +quickly to touch Pascual. + +The sweet-faced señora leaned over him. + +"America," she whispered in explanation. + +_America!_ Beautiful America! Riego crept forward, unconscious now of +the crowd around. Oh, to _understand_ America! + +Then a strange thing happened. The beautiful goddess suddenly ceased +speaking, and her face became clouded with thought. Her eyes were +focussed on the eager boy who had crept forward and was standing +spellbound before her--the most conspicuous of the group of +dark-faced, bewildered children. + +Riego did not know that everybody in that audience had suddenly leaned +forward in dead silence. + +After one tense moment the Beautiful One advanced to the edge of the +platform and descended the steps till she stood almost among them. + +And now this strange, new, better country was speaking to Riego _in +his own tongue_! + +"You didn't _understand_ me, did you?" she asked in Spanish. + +"Not _then_, my lady!--but _now_!" It was Riego who answered her, but +the other dark faces were alight like his own now. The crowd was +leaning forward again. + +"Ah, that is all the trouble!" said the Beautiful One. "Our new people +simply do not understand America! Do you wish me to tell you the story +in Spanish?" + +There were many who answered this time. + +Then she told them in their own tongue of the great struggle for a new +freedom and a new peace which had been waged upon this soil over a +hundred years before. And the breathless children heard how this new +ideal of freedom had passed all bounds of the country in which it was +born, and thrilled all lands. They heard how the noble La Fayette of +France, Steuben of Prussia, and Kosciuszko of Poland each had offered +his all that America might be forever a refuge for the oppressed. They +learned how the German De Kalb had laid down his life at Camden for +the new faith, and how Count Pulaski had poured out the last drop of +his Polish blood to make the world's great dream of freedom "come true." + +Then the Beautiful One told the children how, throughout the more than +one hundred years since the fight was won, the footsore and oppressed +of many lands have found in America work and a just reward for +working, the freedom to do anything which does not harm another, and +the great gift of peace! + +"And now," exclaimed the speaker, "which of you will promise with me +to be loyal to America? Stand up!" + +And they stood up--the dark children, the white-faced señoritas, the +gringo soldiers, and all!--and repeated after the Beautiful One: + + "I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it + stands, + One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." + +When Riego turned from the inspiring scene it was to see his brother +Pascual walking away, and in close conversation with Alonzo Lorente. + + * * * * * + +The days passed, but Riego still treasured in his heart his first +vision of America. He knew now that the Beautiful One was only a +charming señorita and daughter of the big captain who commanded at the +American camp. But he liked to think of her as "America"--the +beneficent goddess who had smoothed the furrows from his father's brow +and crowned his faithful labors with reward. + +And then, one momentous day, the Beautiful One stood in the shop-door, +asking in Spanish if she might be allowed to enter. She was all in +white this time--snow-white. To Riego's fond imagination she was still +a shining goddess. + +Riego's father welcomed the señorita and dusted the bench that she +might sit and rest, for Riego had told him of the great American +festival, and Antonio had learned much besides. + +The señorita had come to speak to the father about his sons--and her +smiling glance included both the sullen Pascual and Riego, who stood +worshipfully by. + +It seemed that the señorita--Miss Flora Arden was her name--was to +teach a class of "newly made Americans," and again her glance +included the boys. She wanted to teach them to speak the English +language and to help them to a better understanding of America. The +señorita believed that most of the trouble which the newly made +Americans encountered was due to the fact that they did not know how +to find and use the good gifts which their new country had to offer. +And she was certain that most of the trouble they _gave_ was because +they brought old prejudices with them, and so did not open their +hearts to America. + +Riego understood the spirit of her proposal better than he did the +words of her correct Spanish. His father listened throughout with +thoughtful, grave attention. + +There were no charges to be made for this teaching? Then what was the +señorita to gain for so much effort? + +"I?" said the señorita--she was standing now, ready to depart--"I gain +a better country! My father is a soldier and serves his country by +helping to keep the peace along this troubled border. If I had been a +son I might have done as much. But I am only a daughter, Antonio! And +yet"--and she put her arm over Riego's shoulders as she spoke--"if I +help to make loyal even _one_ of America's adopted sons, am not I, +too, serving my country?" + +The father's rare smile assented to her offer, even before his lips +made the promise. + +Riego followed the Beautiful One to the door. + +Outside, Alonzo Lorente slouched against a lamp-post. The señorita +looked into Lorente's face and recoiled slightly. Riego saw the +recoil, and an unnamed fear suddenly laid its hand upon his heart. + + * * * * * + +Pascual and Riego went to Miss Arden's class--Pascual sullen and +uninterested, Riego breathlessly eager. But they had not attended many +times--indeed, had just begun to glimpse something of the bigness and +goodness of their new country--when the stroke fell that was to change +their little world. The good father dropped at his work-bench, +speechless and bewildered. The American doctor said he would be able +to work again, but that his mind would never be quite the same. + +Their wise father thus reduced to childishness, and their mother +ignorant of the new conditions and the new tongue, the boys were left +to plan for themselves. + +Pascual left Miss Arden's class. He explained that he would now have +to take charge of his father's shop; but he found time to make many +trips across the dark Rio Grande and to talk much with Lorente, who +now resumed his old practice of dropping in at the shop to chat. His +younger brother, however, continued under the señorita's instruction. + +Riego learned at Miss Arden's class that "freedom" gives one the right +to do as he wishes only in so far as he does not wish to interfere +with the rights of another. + +"There is no 'freedom' except in loyal obedience to law," she told him +one day. "America is a 'free' country because--though here are +gathered people from all lands--they join together in making laws +which are kind and impartial to all, and they stand together in +support of the laws they make." + +"But, señorita, Alonzo Lorente says--" began the boy, and stopped short. + +"What does Alonzo Lorente say?" the señorita asked quickly. + +"I--I promised not to tell," stammered the child. + +There was the blue truth of heaven in the señorita's eyes as she looked +into his own, and answered: "Riego, it is more than dishonest in Lorente +to accept the blessings which America affords him and not be true to +her. It is worse than traitorous in him to help spoil the peace of the +country which is his refuge from oppression. If Alonzo Lorente likes the +old way better than the new, he should go back to the old country. If he +honestly wishes to change what he finds here, and thinks he can better +things, he has one man's just share in deciding, for he is a naturalized +citizen and can vote on any question. But Alonzo Lorente _should speak +out openly or else keep silent_!" + +Before Riego left that afternoon Miss Arden had him repeat with her: + + "I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it + stands, + One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." + +But little Riego did not dream in how short a time would his loyalty +to his new country be tested. One afternoon--his father was still +lying unconscious--Riego was tending the shop alone, for Pascual had +crossed the Rio Grande in the early morning and had not yet returned. + +It was a dull, dull afternoon, for no patrons came, and the visitors +merely glanced in and passed on. It was hot and still, so the sleepy +Riego decided to rest. He found a cool spot behind a pile of boxes, +and lay down and closed his eyes. + + * * * * * + +When Riego opened his eyes again it was with a start. There were +voices--smothered voices--some men were in the shop! Riego lay still +and listened. + +"We will attack the gringo camp to-night--just before dawn," a +smothered voice was saying. "Alva has three hundred men and more. They +can easily surprise and destroy these eighty Americans, and so can +seize their horses and ammunition." + +"But the patrol?" It was Pascual's voice that whispered the question. +Riego's heart turned sick. He recognized the voice of Lorente in the +terrifying reply: + +"Pacheco and a picked few will knife the patrol at the ford, then +Alva's men will cross, and approach the camp up the ravine." + +"To-morrow morning?" Pascual's voice asked. + +"Yes, just before dawn." + +There were approaching steps on the street. + +A customer entered. Riego heard Lorente departing--heard the customer +inquire the price of a saddle, and go out. + +It must be done _now_--now while Pascual was alone, and he could +speak to him! The next moment Riego stood before his brother. + +"I heard you!" he cried. "Pascual, they _must not_!" + +But Pascual laid a fierce hand upon his breast and pinned him to the +wall. + +It was a terrible scene--that which followed--terrible in the tense +quiet of its enactment--terrible in its outcome! + +With Riego pinned against the wall where he needs must listen, Pascual +poured forth such a torrent of abuse, of falsehood, against the +"gringos" that at length the old hate blood leapt in the younger boy's +veins and went beating through his brain. + +The gringos were their enemies--_enemies_! The men who were coming +down upon them with the dawn were of their own blood, of their native +country! What if the invaders _were_ "revolutionists"? Were they not +_Mexican_? Talk of "loyalty"--one must be loyal to _one's own_! + +When Pascual loosed his grip upon the slight form it was after he had +stirred to the very dregs all that was passionate, all that was +ignorant and prejudiced and violent, in the boy's nature. + +That afternoon Riego did not report at Miss Arden's class, but long +after class hour he was obliged to pass her house on the mission to +deliver a mended harness to a farmer living near the American camp. + +Miss Arden and her mother, Riego knew, were the only members of the +big captain's family. They lived in a large house in the woods, +half-way between the town and the camp. He knew also that the big +captain stayed in camp. + +As Riego emerged from the long stretch of lonely woods which separated +Miss Arden's house from the town, and as he faced the other long +stretch of woods which lay between him and the camp, the boy was +struck by the isolation of the señorita's home. + +He reflected, however, that Alva's men were to attack the gringo +soldiers by way of the ford, and that the ford lay to the right +yonder, far out of connection with the captain's house. He was +glad--glad that Alva's men would not come that way! + +Suddenly he spied the señorita herself. She was standing on the steps +of her father's home. Riego's heart bounded within him at sight of +her. He pulled down his hat and hoped to pass unrecognized, but the +sweet, familiar voice called: + +"Riego!" + +He did not answer. + +Then she ran down the steps to him, and put her gentle hands upon him, +turning him to her against his will. + +"What is the matter, Riego?" she asked. + +No answer. + +"You didn't come to class this afternoon." + +No answer. + +"I'm sorry," she said, after a moment of silence in which she looked +searchingly into his face, "because we had an interesting lesson +to-day. It was all about what one ought to do in case one should be +forced to _choose between_ the old land and the new." + +The boy gave a swift, upward glance at her, then dropped his eyes to the +ground again. Miss Arden continued, and her voice was very serious now: + +"And we decided, Riego, that one ought to think out carefully which +country was really the better, and be true to that, because there is a +higher duty than that to party or country, and that is--to the +principles of justice and freedom." + +Riego's head sank lower. The Beautiful One took one of his brown hands +into her own. + +"And we said"--was she looking into the dark heart of him?--"that +whichever way one chose, one should choose _openly_. Now this little +brown hand could never----" + +But the little brown hand was snatched away, and with a great sob the +child fled into the woods. + +When at last that night Riego did fall asleep he dreamed that his +beautiful America came to him with her white arms held out in appeal, +and that he slipped a dagger out of his bosom and stabbed her to the +heart. + +He started, awake, and sat up. It was black dark. + +_Had Alva struck already? Or was there yet time?_ + +Ten feet away was Pascual's cot--he must not wake Pascual! As still as +death he slipped out of his bed, pulled on his overalls that he had +hung near, and crept out into the moonless night. + +Riego could not think--it was all so desperate! He could only respond +to the heart that was in him, and creep forward through the dark. But +his feet knew the road that he took, though his brain was reeling. He +was going straight to the one who had wakened the new loyalty in +him--his beautiful America! + +"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it +stands," went surging through him as he struggled on. + +Riego was not grandly heroic; he was only a frightened little boy, but +determined now to do his loyal best for the country that had sheltered +him from oppression. And so, though the treacherous sands might seek +to drag him down, though the dark chaparral yonder might hide--any +fearsome thing!--Riego went forward. + +And now the house of the big captain loomed black before him. Riego +stole up the front steps. He knew behind which of the long, closed +windows the señorita slept, and he approached and tapped fearfully +upon it. + +It was a frightened voice that called: "Who is _that_?" + +Riego was not conscious how he answered, but he knew that a wave of +relief flowed over him when the blind of the long window opened and he +was drawn into the dark room by a pair of familiar hands. + +The blind was closed after him and a light was struck. + +The señorita's eyes were disclosed big and startled; her face was as +white as the long robe she wore. + +"What _is_ it, Riego?" she gasped. + +"They are coming!" he whispered. + +"Who?" she exclaimed, catching him by the shoulders, "_Who?_" + +"Alva," the boy answered, "and three hundred with him. They are going +to surprise--our soldiers--and kill them while they sleep!" + +The señorita sprang to the telephone. She pulled down the lever many, +many times, then she staggered back against the wall. + +"They have cut the wires!" she cried. "Riego, you and I must take the +warning!" + +"To the camp?" the boy cried in dismay. + +"Yes, there's no one within a mile of here that could take it but us!" + +"But the Mexicans have spies over there," the boy moaned. "They will +find us in the dark with their knives!" + +She had flung on a long cloak, and was hurriedly fastening her shoes. + +"Then you stay here and I'll go," she said. + +"_You?_" cried the startled child--then--"It is dark out there, my +lady; I'll go with you." + +They extinguished the light and stole out together to the stable, but +the horses were gone! + +Desperate now, they started out afoot. + +The treacherous sand again and the black dark! But they crept along +together. Then suddenly the boy's courage gave way and he clung to the +cloaked figure, sobbing: + +"Señorita! Señorita! I am _afraid_!" + +The señorita was trembling, too, and her voice broke as she whispered: + +"You and I don't make very good heroes, do we?" + +They had come to a standstill and were clinging together in the dark. +Suddenly there was a sound of something approaching---the velvet tread +of an unshod pony in the sand! + +The rider passed. + +When they breathed again the señorita took him strongly by the +shoulders. + +"Riego," she whispered--and there was no break in her voice now--"we +must separate. One of us must go straight to the ford and warn the +patrol, the other to camp." + +"But it is near the ford that Pacheco is hiding," the boy replied. + +"I'll go to the ford," she said simply. + +"No, my lady, _I_ go--you take the news to camp." And before she could +detain him the boy turned at a sharp angle and plunged into the deeper +blackness of the chaparral. + + * * * * * + +A long nightmare intervened between their parting and the time when the +half-dead boy clung to the saddle of the patrol and whispered to him: + +"Keep to the open, señor; there are men with knives in the chaparral! +Help is coming!" + +Then, somehow, everything was blotted out for Riego. + +When consciousness came again to the boy, the cool air of the dawn was +choked with dust clouds till he could not see ten feet before him and +his ears were nearly bursting with the thunder-beat of frantic hoofs. +Dim horses were rearing and plunging against the reddening dawn. +There were shouts and cries and firing! Firing! + +Who was losing? Who was _winning_? + +Dear God, Alva's men were sweeping back across the Rio Grande! + +One little frightened boy had saved the day for the country that had +given him refuge from oppression. + +But what was that? A call for help? _Whose voice was that?_ + +Riego plunged into the thick of the dust cloud toward the cry, and +dropped by Pascual's side. How could he have known that his brother +would ride that night with the invaders! + +But Pascual was striving to speak. Riego leaned over him and caught +the whisper: + +"Lorente shot me down to get my horse and escape!" + +And now the gringos were circling round the wounded one--they would +beat out his brains with their guns! But--but--why, they were lifting +him up, and _tenderly_! The Americans were lifting up his wounded +brother! + + * * * * * + +Many and bewildering were the things which happened to Riego in the +next few hours. First, he and the all-but-dead Pascual were carried by +the soldiers to the American camp. Then his brother was taken away +from him and borne into a closed tent. + +The soldiers gathered around Riego and patted him on the shoulder. +They gave him many things--things to eat and coins and pocket-knives +and tobacco-tags, all the while challenging him to smile--he whose +captured brother was yonder! + +Later the big captain sent for him and took him by the hand. + +"Riego Yañez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands with an American +hero!" + +At length a tall soldier came to Riego and led him to the closed tent. +But the tall soldier did not enter; he merely pushed the boy inside +the tent and dropped the khaki flap. + +Riego blinked his eyes. Somebody was lying stretched out on a cot, and +somebody was fanning him--the Beautiful One and his brother! Riego +crept toward her suddenly outstretched hands. + +Then he leaned over Pascual. But Pascual's eyes were closed and on his +face was a yellow pallor. + +"The surgeon has taken out the ball," whispered the Beautiful One. "He +will live, with good nursing, and I am on the job." She paused a +moment, then asked, as she looked into his face with concern: "Aren't +you happy, you tragic little soldier? Why don't you smile at the good +news?" + +"How--" began the child--and a strange, sick feeling swept over +him--"how long before he will be well enough to be stood against a +wall--and----" + +"Why, you poor child!"--and the big tears sprang to the señorita's +eyes--"your brother will not be stood against a wall and shot for +treason--never--_never_! And he's not going to be shut up in prison, +either!" + +[Illustration: "Riego Yañez," he said. "I am proud to shake hands with +an American hero!"] + +"But why, señorita? Why? The big captain knows that he was with Alva's +men." + +"He is young--just a boy," and the señorita laid a tender hand upon +the head of the wounded lad. "He is the son of good parents and +brother to---- Oh, you tragic little soldier, can't you guess who it +is has saved your brother?" + +"_You_, señorita?" + +"_Yourself_, Riego. Because you have been heroically loyal they are to +give your brother another chance. We Americans, Riego"--and her white +hand closed upon his own to include him with her--"we Americans are +going to nurse Pascual back to a better life and teach him how to be +free!" + +The sick lad stirred on his cot. + +When the Beautiful One leaned over him in quick solicitude, he +smiled. + + + + +The Scribner Series of School Reading + + + A Uniform Series for Supplementary Reading in Schools. Each, 12mo, + _net_, *$0.50. + + Hero Tales Told in School. By JAMES BALDWIN. Illustrated. + + Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth. By + MARY E. BURT and ZENAIDE RAGEZIN. Illustrated. + + Odysseus: The Hero of Ithaca. By MARY E. BURT. Illustrated. + + The Boy General. By Mrs. GEORGE A. CUSTER and MARY E. BURT. + Illustrated. + + Don Quixote De La Mancha. By MIGUEL DE CERVANTES. From the + translations of Duffield and Shelton. By MARY E. BURT and LUCY + LEFFINGWELL CABLE. + + The Cable Story Book. Selections for School Reading. By GEORGE W. + CABLE. Edited by MARY E. BURT and LUCY L. CABLE. Illustrated. + + The Hoosier School Boy. By EDWARD EGGLESTON. Illustrated. + + The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and Letters for School + Reading. By EUGENE FIELD. Edited by MARY E. BURT and MARY L. + CABLE. With an Introduction by GEORGE W. CABLE. Illustrated. + + The Howells Story Book. By WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS. Selected and + arranged by MARY E. BURT. Illustrated by MISS HOWELLS. + + The Lanier Book. Selections for School Reading. By SIDNEY LANIER. + Edited and arranged By MARY E. BURT, in co-operation with Mrs. + LANIER. Illustrated. + + The Page Story Book. Selections for School Reading by THOMAS + NELSON PAGE. Edited by FRANK E. SPALDING and CATHERINE T. BRYCE. + + Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen by BRANDER MATTHEWS. + + Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. By HOWARD PYLE. Illustrated + by the Author. + + The Roosevelt Book. Selections from the writings of Theodore + Roosevelt, with an introduction by ROBERT BRIDGES. Illustrated. + + A Child's Garden of Verses. By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Illustrated. + + Krag and Johnny Bear. Being the Personal Histories of Krag, Randy, + Johnny Bear, and Chink. By ERNEST THOMPSON SETON. Illustrated. + + Lobo, Rag, and Vixen. Selections from "Wild Animals I Have Known." + By ERNEST THOMPSON SETON. With 4 full-page and many other + illustrations from drawings by the Author. + + Twelve Naval Captains. With portraits. By MOLLY ELLIOTT SEAWELL. + + Fanciful Tales. By FRANK R. STOCKTON. Edited by JULIA E. + LANGWORTHY. Illustrated. + + Around the World in the Sloop Spray. By Captain JOSHUA SLOCUM. + Illustrated. + + The van Dyke Book. Selections for School Reading. By HENRY VAN + DYKE. Edited and arranged by Professor EDWIN MIMS, with + Biographical Sketch by MISS VAN DYKE. Illustrated. + + Children's Stories of American Literature, 1660-1860. By HENRIETTA + CHRISTIAN WRIGHT. + + Children's Stories of American Literature, 1860-1896. By HENRIETTA + CHRISTIAN WRIGHT. + + Children's Stories in American History. By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN + WRIGHT. + + Children's Stories in American Progress. By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN + WRIGHT. + + + + +Transcriber's Note + + + * Punctuation errors have been corrected. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of America First, by Frances Nimmo Greene + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICA FIRST *** + +***** This file should be named 36726-8.txt or 36726-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/2/36726/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: America First + +Author: Frances Nimmo Greene + +Illustrator: T. de Thulstrup + +Release Date: July 14, 2011 [EBook #36726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICA FIRST *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Archives and Special +Collections, University Libraries, Ball State University +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="500" height="773" alt="Book Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h1>AMERICA FIRST</h1> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="front" id="front"></a> + <a name="frontis.jpg" id="frontis.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="500" height="749" alt="The execution" title="" /> + <p class="caption">"I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the tenderfoot, "but +this is—different." And he added in his heart: +"This is for <i>my country</i>." [<a href="#Page_23"><i>Page 23.</i></a>]</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h1>AMERICA FIRST</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>BY</h4> +<h2>FRANCES NIMMO GREENE</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h5>ILLUSTRATED BY</h5> +<h3>T. DE THULSTRUP</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<h3>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h3> +<h5>NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON</h5> + +<hr /> + +<h6><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1918, by</span></h6> +<h5>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h5> + +<hr /> + +<h4>TO MY MOTHER'S NAMESAKE</h4> +<h4>AND MY OWN</h4> +<h3>VIRGINIA OWEN GREENE AND</h3> +<h3>FRANCES NIMMO GREENE</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="c1"> </td><td class="c3"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1"><span class="smcap">Called to the Colors</span></td><td class="c3"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1"><span class="smcap">Under the Flag</span></td><td class="c3"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1"><span class="smcap">America First</span></td><td class="c3"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="c1">"I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the tenderfoot, + "but this is—different." And he added + in his heart: "This is for <i>my country</i>"</td><td class="c3"><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1"> </td><td class="c3"><small>FACING PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1">A man was sitting over some sort of instrument</td><td class="c3"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1">"You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under + the flag!"</td><td class="c3"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="c1">"Riego Yañez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands + with an American hero!"</td><td class="c3"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2>CALLED TO THE COLORS</h2> + +<p>This is the story of a "tenderfoot"—of a +pink-cheeked, petted lad, and of his +first service as a Boy Scout.</p> + +<p>Danny Harding was what his mother's +friends termed "wonderfully fortunate," but +Danny himself took quite another view of +his life's circumstances as he hurried home +from school one afternoon, an hour before +the regular time for dismissal.</p> + +<p>The day was golden with sunshine, but the +boy's spirit was dark. There was singing in +the air and singing in the tree tops, but in +the heart which pounded against his immaculate +jacket were silent rage and despair.</p> + +<p>The Whippoorwill Patrol had been called +to the colors, and he the untried, the untested +tenderfoot would have to remain at +home in luxurious security, while the huskier, +browner, less-sheltered lads answered their +country's call. It was beyond the power of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +a boy's heart to endure—the mortification—the +wild despair of it! They would call him +a slacker, a <i>coward</i>! But, worse still, his +country needed him, and he could not answer!</p> + +<p>Danny brushed away the tears which +threatened to blind him, and stumbled on.</p> + +<p>The call had come through a telegram +from the Scout Master to the boys while +they were yet at school, and the teacher had +promptly dismissed them to service. The +Whippoorwills were to leave immediately +upon an expedition to the mountains, but just +what duty they were called to perform was +not stated in the brief message. All they +knew was that they were to leave at once for +a certain distant mountain-top, there pitch +tents and await orders for serious service.</p> + +<p>On receipt of the news the other boys had +rushed off noisily with eager joy to don their +khaki uniforms and make ready, but Danny +had slipped down a by-street—a wounded, a +hurt thing, trying to hide his anguish away +from mortal sight. He would not be allowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +to go—he knew it—for he was the only son +of a widowed mother who loved him all too +well. He was her all, her idol, and her days +had been spent in pampering and shielding +him.</p> + +<p>Only a week before, the scouts had gone on +a hike together and she had refused absolutely +to allow Danny to accompany them—the +sun would be too hot, he might get +poisoned with wild ivy, he would be sure to +imbibe fever germs from the mountain spring!</p> + +<p>No, thought the miserable boy, she would +be doubly fearful, doubly unwilling, now that +the Whippoorwills were to do serious scout +duty on Death Head Mountain.</p> + +<p>Danny's soul raged against his soft fate as +he stumbled up the side steps of his handsome +home and entered his mother's presence.</p> + +<p>He did not fly to her arms as he was wont +to do, but, instead, flung himself into the +first convenient chair with a frown. He +could not trust himself to speak.</p> + +<p>But even in that moment of stress Danny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +realized that his mother had not hurried to +him for the usual kiss. She was struggling +with some sort of bundle, and she only looked +up with a quick smile.</p> + +<p>The next instant, however, the smile of +welcome died out of her face, and she stopped +suddenly and regarded him with a startled +question in her eyes.</p> + +<p>Danny frowned more darkly, and moved +uneasily under her searching gaze. He looked +away in a vain attempt to hide the tears +which had sprung to his eyes.</p> + +<p>And then came the unexpected:</p> + +<p>"Danny," said his mother, in a voice that +sounded new to him, "I received a long-distance +phone message from the Scout +Master, and—he said he had wired to the +school——"</p> + +<p>She paused a moment, and then asked: +"Didn't you get the message?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the boy doggedly.</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and then his mother +deliberately put down the bundle she had +been working with, and approached. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +came and stood before him, with her back to +the table as if for support. Danny did not +look up into her face, though he saw her +white, jewelled hands grasping the edge of +the table, and they were strained and tense.</p> + +<p>"My son," she said, "what is the matter +with you?"</p> + +<p>He was too full to answer.</p> + +<p>"Danny," she began again presently and +in that new voice, "you won't <i>do</i> this way—you +<i>will not</i>!" And then suddenly a white, +jewelled hand was struck fiercely upon the +table, and the new voice exclaimed passionately:</p> + +<p>"Daniel Harding, if you sit around and +cry like a baby when you are called to the +service of your country, I'll—I'll <i>disown</i> you, +sir!"</p> + +<p>"Mother!" And Danny sprang to her +arms.</p> + +<p>There were a few moments of sobbing, +laughing confession from Danny, and then +his mother explained to him her unexpected +change of attitude toward scouting. Danger?—yes, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +of course she knew that this might involve +danger to him, but this call was for no +frolic—it was to the service of his country! +He <i>was</i> her all, everything in the world to +her, but the one thing which she could not, +would not bear would be to see him turn +"slacker" and coward when other mothers' +boys—not ten years older than Danny—were +already on the firing-line in France!</p> + +<p>"Our part in this war is the old fight of +'76, Danny"—she said to him—"<i>nothing less +than that</i>! The Colonists fought to win independence +for America. We are fighting +now to save that independence won. And +if it takes every man in America—every boy +in America—if it takes <i>you</i>, Danny—there is +just one answer for an American to give."</p> + +<p>And then the two of them hurriedly finished +tying up the bundle she had put aside. +It was his kit for the expedition!</p> + +<p>It was a newer, bigger ideal of patriotism +which Danny Harding took with him into +his service on Death Head Mountain. His +mother, who loved him all too well, had yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +sent him from her with nothing short of her +positive orders to do his duty like a man.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The Whippoorwill Patrol had answered the +call to service, and the growing dusk found +its members arranging their camp for a night's +bivouac in a lonely stretch of woods "somewhere" +on the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains.</p> + +<p>The Scout Master had not come, but his +orders had, and the Whippoorwills were busily +engaged in executing them.</p> + +<p>"Camp in Mica Cove, conceal your fires, +and wait for me," the Scout Master had telegraphed. +"You are called to service."</p> + +<p>So here they were in Mica Cove, hardily +preparing for whatever service to their country +it might be theirs to perform, and excitedly +guessing at what ominous circumstance +had necessitated their sudden calling +out.</p> + +<p>Of course, everybody knew that old "Death +Head" must have come into some added +evil repute, and would have to be taken in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +hand. And that they would shortly be +scouting over all its lonely trails nobody had +any doubt whatever.</p> + +<p>There were eight of them, for the whole +patrol was present. Youngest and happiest +of them all was the pink-cheeked, petted +tenderfoot, Danny Harding. He was no +"slacker," no "coward"! He was here with +the others to play a manly part in serving +his country, and his mother had sent him +from her with a smile!</p> + +<p>Besides Danny, there were in the ranks L. +C. Whitman, nicknamed "Elsie," Ham and +Roger Gayle, Alex Batré, Ed Rowell, and +Biddie Burton—as husky and jolly a bunch +as could well be got together. All these were +older than Danny, and, as all were more or +less seasoned to scouting, they were quite +disposed to have their fun out of the new +recruit.</p> + +<p>Danny took their teasing in good spirit, +however, for he felt that it was part of his +initiation into their envied circle. They were +big boys—brown like the woods of which they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +had become a part, panther-footed, eagle-eyed, +efficient. Danny felt that he would be +willing to suffer much to become as they.</p> + +<p>The tenderfoot watched them all to see +just how a scout was supposed to act, but it +was to Willard McKenzie, the resourceful +leader of the patrol, that his eyes turned +oftenest in frank admiration.</p> + +<p>McKenzie was the oldest of the bunch—quite +seventeen—and five years of scouting +had stamped him a man as Nature meant +him to be. He knew and could answer every +bird-call, could follow a wood-trail unerringly, +could find himself in any emergency by the +chart of the stars above him. He was the +trusted friend of every wild thing about him, +and brother to every wind that blew. The +tenderfoot watched the graceful movements +of the leader's Indianlike figure, studied his +genius for quiet command, and decided +promptly to be, one day, a second Willard +McKenzie.</p> + +<p>In obedience to McKenzie's orders, the +boys built their camp-fire within the cove,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +where it would be hidden on three sides by +peaks which towered above, and on the +fourth by a dense thicket.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon, the Scout Master, had not +come, nor did they know when to expect +him. But they knew enough to obey their +leader, and this they were proceeding to do.</p> + +<p>It was a simple matter—getting the camp +ready—and the boys thoroughly enjoyed it. +As they were to sleep on the ground, rolled +in their blankets, they had merely to clear +the space about them of underbrush and +fallen timber, and build the fire for cooking.</p> + +<p>Of course they talked of war as they worked, +for they were scouts in khaki, preparing for +action.</p> + +<p>Ed Rowell claimed for cousin one of the +American engineers who fought their way +out of German captivity with their bare +fists. Batré's older brother was right then +cleaving his winged way through clouds of +battle in the service of the La Fayette Escadrille. +Whitman knew a man who knew a +man who was in the 167th Infantry Regiment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +when it made with others that now historic +march, knee-deep in French snows.</p> + +<p>Danny said nothing, for he was a quiet, +thoughtful lad. But he had vividly in mind +a handsome fellow of only eighteen who, +until America's declaration of war, had Sunday +after Sunday carried the golden cross up +the aisle of the little Church of the Holy +Innocents to "Onward, Christian Soldiers." +Danny had heard his mother say that it +was that song which had sent the young +crucifer bearing the Red Cross of Mercy +right up to the German guns.</p> + +<p>But their talk was not all serious. They +were brimming over with life, and they +laughed and scrapped and worked together +with a zest which made even bramble-cutting +enjoyable.</p> + +<p>It was when the big fire was glowing red +and they set about preparing their evening +meal that the best part of the fun began. +Whoever has not broiled great slices of bacon +or toasted cold biscuits on sharpened sticks +before a cheery camp-fire, who has not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +roasted sweet potatoes and green corn in +glowing ashes, who has not inhaled the aroma +from an old tin coffee-pot, spitting and sputtering +on a hot rock, should join the Boy +Scouts and hike back to the heart of nature.</p> + +<p>Oh, but it was fun! All except the holding +in check of savage appetites till the mess +should be cooked. Ed Rowell had been detailed +to toast the biscuits, and repeatedly +threatened to "eat 'em alive" if they didn't +brown faster.</p> + +<p>Danny, who, with Alex Batré, had been +directed to broil the bacon, couldn't for the +life of him keep from pinching off a crisp +edge now and then to nibble. And yet only +yesterday Danny Harding would have turned +up his nose at bacon. The stimulating fresh +air and the hard work of camp life had begun +to get in their good work on him.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the fire from Danny, +Ham and Roger Gayle were roasting corn +and sweet potatoes in the ashes, and a little +beyond, Elsie Whitman was filling the water-cans +from a trickling mountain spring—while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +Biddie Burton was busily engaged in getting +under everybody else's feet and teasing +whomever he could.</p> + +<p>McKenzie, their leader, was momentarily +absent, having gone down to the road below +the cliff on which they were encamped to see +if their fire could be sighted from that point +through the screening thicket.</p> + +<p>The boys had from the first been instructed +by McKenzie to keep their voices lowered. +They were there for serious service, he had +told them. And the necessity for stealth and +the promise of adventure had for a time +keyed them up to the highest pitch of excitement.</p> + +<p>But when the interest of cooking supper +became uppermost—especially when the scent +of the bacon and coffee began to fill the air—thoughts +of adventure withdrew a little to a +distance and whispered merriment became the +order of the hour.</p> + +<p>As was natural, they turned on the tenderfoot +their battery of teasing, and the tenderfoot +bore it as best he could.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> + "Its mother washes 'em," averred Biddie +Burton, coming up behind Danny and carefully +examining his ears as he knelt at his work.</p> + +<p>"Sure she does," laughed Ham across the +fire, "and they say that a sore tooth in its +little mouth aches everybody in the family +connection."</p> + +<p>"Look out there, something's burning!" +broke in Ed Rowell suddenly. And the next +moment Ham and Roger were busy rescuing +from the fire the scorching potatoes.</p> + +<p>"I declare," scolded Biddie, lounging up, +"I could beat you fellows cooking, with both +hands tied behind me."</p> + +<p>"Why haven't you ever done it, then?" +snapped the elder Gayle, sore over his partial +failure.</p> + +<p>"Why, nobody has ever tied my hands +behind me," came in seemingly hurt explanation +from Biddie, and the crowd laughed.</p> + +<p>McKenzie had directed them not to wait +for him, and they did not. Another five +minutes found them eating like young wolves +around a languishing fire.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> + Later, when the fire winked lower, and the +meal was finished—when the screech-owls +began to send their blood-chilling, shivering +screams through the forest—they drew closer +together and began to talk of weird and +haunting things.</p> + +<p>"Over yonder, on the real 'Death Head,'" +began Roger, bringing the interest down to +the spot, "is the haunted tree where——"</p> + +<p>"Look out," broke in young Rowell, "a +little more of that and friend Danny over +here will cut for home and mother."</p> + +<p>"I'll do nothing of the kind; I'm not a +baby!" exclaimed Danny indignantly. But +all the same, his heart was already in his +mouth, for Danny had never been distinguished +for signal bravery.</p> + +<p>"No, you are not 'a baby,'" put in the unquenchable +Biddie, "but before we get out +of these woods you are going to wish you +<i>were</i> a baby, and a <i>girl</i> baby at that!"</p> + +<p>Danny did not reply to this. He only sat +very still, wishing that Willard McKenzie +would return from his prolonged trip, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +thinking of the mother who was looking to +him to play the man.</p> + +<p>The scene lost its glow. The surrounding +forest grew darker, taller, and began stealing +up closer about them.</p> + +<p>"If you cry like a baby—!" Danny's +mother was whispering to his sinking heart.</p> + +<p>The others had fallen into an argument +about the exact location of the haunted tree, +but presently Ed Rowell asked impatiently:</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it about the place, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Haunted!" exclaimed Ham. "A murderer, +hunted with dogs through the mountains, +hanged himself on——"</p> + +<p>"And the old tree died in the night," assisted +his brother. "And it stands there now, +naked and stark and dead. At night——"</p> + +<p>Danny's heart stood still to hear.</p> + +<p>"At night," broke in Whitman, "if you +creep up close, you can see the dead man +swinging in the wind!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Listen!</i>" exclaimed Biddie under his +breath.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> + It will have to be recorded that they all +jumped violently at the exclamation.</p> + +<p>"What?" demanded L. C.</p> + +<p>"And hear old Danny being quiet!" +finished the teasing scamp.</p> + +<p>"You bet you, and he'd better be quiet—" +began Roger.</p> + +<p>But Whitman interrupted:</p> + +<p>"Danny's afraid of ghosts, anyway," he +declared, "I tried to leave him in the graveyard +once, but he was home in his mama's +lap before I started running."</p> + +<p>"I'm not any more afraid of ghosts than +you are," Danny protested hotly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>aren't</i> you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not!"</p> + +<p>"All right, then," the big boy taunted; +"I've been to the haunted tree by myself at +night—these fellows all know I have—now +suppose <i>you</i> go."</p> + +<p>"Sure, tenderfoot," put in young Rowell; +"here's a perfectly good chance to show your +nerve."</p> + +<p>"He hasn't any," sneered Alex Batré.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> + But Danny drew back, aghast at the proposition—go +alone to a spot like that, and at night!</p> + +<p>"Go to it, kid," was suddenly spoken +quietly in his ear.</p> + +<p>Danny turned to see whose was the kindly +voice that advised, and looked into Biddie +Burton's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't let 'em make you take a dare," +came in another whisper. "<i>Go.</i>" Biddie was +not smiling now, and there was a note of +serious friendliness in his voice.</p> + +<p>It suddenly came to Danny that he would +give more to merit that new confidence on +Biddie's part than to break down the taunts +of the others. And yet he could not. He +could no more command his shaking nerves +to carry him to that unhallowed, ghostly +spot than he could command the unwilling +nerves of another. His will-power had deserted +him.</p> + +<p>"I <i>dare</i> you to go!" badgered L. C.</p> + +<p>Danny's spirit flamed for one brief moment. +But in the very next his head dropped, and +he turned away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> + "This is going too far," the wretched little +fellow heard Biddie Burton exclaim sharply.</p> + +<p>"What is 'going too far'?" a new voice +asked out of the darkness, and Willard +McKenzie advanced into the group. "What +is 'going too far'?" he repeated, glancing +from one to another. No answer being volunteered, +his keen glance quickly singled out +the shamed tenderfoot.</p> + +<p>"What have they been up to, Danny?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>Danny turned and faced him.</p> + +<p>"Nothing that makes any difference," he +said.</p> + +<p>It was generous in him not to "peach," and +so Biddie Burton's friendly glance assured +him.</p> + +<p>The incident passed with that, for McKenzie +was full of something repressed, and, +seeing it, the boys gathered close about him +in eager questioning—all except Danny.</p> + +<p>All except Danny! His brief career—his +career that only an hour ago had promised +so much—had ended, and in disgrace. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +had taken a dare! Nothing would ever matter +to him again—Danny told his aching heart—the +boys despised him, all except Biddie +Burton, and, somehow, Biddie's pity was +harder to bear than despite.</p> + +<p>"I went to the gap and wired Mr. Gordon," +McKenzie was saying now, "and he +told me I could put you to it at once. He's +had an accident to his car and may not get +here for some time."</p> + +<p>"What's up?" It was Roger who asked +the question.</p> + +<p>"Something serious," answered McKenzie, +"but Mr. Gordon didn't say what. +Have you had supper?"</p> + +<p>They replied in concert, eager to receive +orders.</p> + +<p>"Well," continued McKenzie, "we've got +to cover the mountain here, for signs of—anything +unusual. You'll have to be careful +not to run into trouble yourselves, but you +must know your ground. There'll be a good +moon if the clouds break."</p> + +<p>"Glory be!" Danny heard Elsie Whitman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +breathe in expectant ecstasy, and he would +have given the world to have felt with him +that eager joy. But Danny had taken a +dare!</p> + +<p>The others were chattering now, as eager +as Whitman to be off on the trail of adventure.</p> + +<p>McKenzie was giving orders:</p> + +<p>"Whitman, you can take the north trail, +and bear down over the mountain. Ham +will strike out down the creek to the left +there, and work around to your territory. +There's an old cabin hidden by scrub-oaks +and rocks about a quarter below the bridge +there, Ham. Know it for what it is, but +don't you run your long neck into danger."</p> + +<p>In spite of his hurt Danny was getting interested. +He crept up on the outer edge of +the group and listened, wide-eyed, as the +other boys eagerly accepted their several +commissions.</p> + +<p>"Roger and Ed," their leader was continuing, +"bear south till you get below the drop +of the cliff, and then separate and work that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +territory between you"—with a sweeping +gesture. "Alex and Biddie—let me see—you +two go over the mountain to the right of +Elsie—No, there's the Death Head trail—" +He paused a moment in thoughtful survey of +them, and the boys looked at each other apprehensively. +Not one of them was anxious +to work the trail of evil name. Suddenly, +however, McKenzie's eyes lighted on Danny +Harding, and an inspiration seemed to come +to him.</p> + +<p>"Say," he exclaimed, "I'll give the new +recruit a chance at that. Come here, scout." +And he laid a kind hand on Danny's shoulder +and drew him into the circle.</p> + +<p>Somebody on the outskirts of the group +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Now you are going to do your first service +for your country," McKenzie said to the +tenderfoot; "but whatever you do, be wary, +because——"</p> + +<p>Somebody else laughed, and McKenzie +looked about sharply. "What's the joke?" +he asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> + "Danny's afraid," the mocker explained; +"that's where the dead man swings."</p> + +<p>Biddie strolled forward. "Alex will be +enough to work Elsie's right," he said to +McKenzie. "Give me the Death Head trail. +You'll need Dan here about the camp."</p> + +<p>But Danny raised his head quickly. It is +true that his face was dead-white, but his +head was up.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the Death Head," he said to +McKenzie.</p> + +<p>The crowd was dumb-struck.</p> + +<p>"But you got white-livered and backed +down—" L. C. began, after the first shock of +his surprise.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't go when you dared me to," +said the tenderfoot, "but this is—different." +And he added in his heart: "This is for <i>my +country</i>."</p> + +<p>"But he <i>is</i> afraid," put in Roger. "Look +at him!"</p> + +<p>McKenzie took a long, straight look into +Danny's white face and determined eyes, and +then turned to Roger.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> + "All the gamer of him," he said, "to go in +spite of being afraid—that's the stuff that +Pershing is looking for. And Mr. Gordon +says that a boy who 'isn't afraid of anything' +hasn't sense enough to be trusted with a +commission. "Kid," he continued, turning +to Danny, "you find out all that there is to +be known about the Death Head vicinity before +you show up in camp again."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Danny.</p> + +<p>There was a gasp of surprise among them +at the tenderfoot's final acceptance of the +commission, but not one of them—not even +Biddie—believed that he would be able to +carry it through. And the sensitive, high-strung +Danny went out from among them +burdened with the feeling that they did not +look for him to succeed.</p> + +<p>McKenzie walked a little way with him—big-brother +fashion, with an arm over his +shoulder—and gave him careful directions as +to how to proceed. There would be a moon +if the clouds broke, his leader warned him, +and he was to keep to the shadows.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> + "I'll be leaving camp myself," said McKenzie, +"and will not show up again for a couple +of hours. You will probably get back before +the rest of us, so just roll up in your +blanket and lie close under that ledge yonder—you +will be perfectly safe there." A little +farther up the mountain trail and McKenzie +paused.</p> + +<p>"Never mind about the dead man, scout," +he admonished finally, "but keep your eye +peeled for the live one, and—'the best of +luck!'"</p> + +<p>"'The best of luck!'" That was what +the men at the front said to a fellow when he +was going over the top of the shielding trench +into the dangerous unknown.</p> + +<p>At the familiar phrase in parting, Danny +drew a quick, deep breath. Yes, he was +going "over the top"—and he was going +<i>alone</i>!</p> + +<p>Then McKenzie slipped quietly back, and +Danny started forward up the long, dark +trail alone. The ghost of a moon showed +dimly through the black cloud-rack, now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +and again, and fitfully relieved the enveloping +darkness.</p> + +<p>Only once did Danny look back. That +was when he came to the first turn in the +mountain trail which his leader had carefully +explained to him. Beyond that turn, and it +would be good-by to the last cheering, reassuring +gleam of their camp-fire, to the last +faint sound of comforting voices.</p> + +<p>Danny paused and looked back. Only +two remained in the bright circle toward +which his rapidly chilling spirit was reaching +back. He recognized at once the tall, +slim form of McKenzie, but—— Yes, that +chunky one was Biddie Burton. The two +of them were standing close together, talking +earnestly. And now Danny caught, by a +sudden leap of the firelight, the fact that they +were looking toward him. Biddie was nodding.</p> + +<p>It was so bright, so safe back there where +they had laughed and feasted and wrangled +together. Then suddenly Danny thought of +the young crucifer in the little Church of the +Holy Innocents.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>"Onward, Christian Soldiers!"</p> + +<p>The next moment Danny was groping, feeling +his trembling way, but that way was +<i>onward</i>. The heart in his breast beat an +alarm to every nerve in his body, but he kept +his face toward the dim, dark trail. A lump +rose in his throat and threatened to choke +him. He gulped it down, and crept forward.</p> + +<p>McKenzie had told him that a scout must +keep his head. That was the hardest part. +A fellow could force himself to go blindly to +a haunted spot at night, but to think, to +plan, to watch as he went——!</p> + +<p>But he was a scout, and a scout must "be +prepared." Danny forced himself to think +as he went. He was not following that gruesome +trail in response to Whitman's dare—he +was scouting old Death Head in the service +of his country.</p> + +<p>Danny found that he could follow McKenzie's +directions better than he had hoped. +Now that his eyes were thoroughly accustomed +to the dark, he could descry the blacker +landmarks for which his leader had prepared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +him. After the turn in the mountain trail, +an abrupt and jagged cliff ahead beckoned the +way. The shadow of the cliff won, Danny +waited for another appearance of the pale, +cold moon by the help of whose light he +hoped to locate the three giant pines—his +next objective. From the pines, McKenzie +had told him, old Death Head could be +sighted plainly enough, for from that point +it was silhouetted, black and unmistakable, +against the sky, and its summit was +marked by the stark, white, blasted tree of +evil fame.</p> + +<p>"That's where the dead man swings!" +echoed in Danny's memory. And for a moment +it seemed that he <i>must</i> give up and fly +back to safety. But something said: "I'll +disown you, sir!" And Danny again turned +his face in the direction of his duty.</p> + +<p>The moon looked out of the drifting clouds. +Danny located the three giant pines in the +distance, and for one blessed moment saw a +reasonably clear path, skirting along the +mountainside.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> + Darkness again! But Danny took the +skirting path to the pine giants.</p> + +<p>Once he nearly lost his nerve altogether, +for suddenly there was behind him a sound +as if some human foot had stumbled. The +tenderfoot dropped warily to the long grass +at one side of the path, and listened. A long, +long time he listened, but not another sound +did he hear. At length he told himself that +the step was that of some wild creature which +he had disturbed.</p> + +<p>Then forward again! Creeping, panther-footed.</p> + +<p>Danny reached the pines at last—and sure +enough, old Death Head rose all too plainly +before him. He saw, or thought he saw, a +tall white something on its summit.</p> + +<p>In thinking it over afterward, Danny was +never quite sure just what happened between +the pines and the haunted tree. He had a +vague recollection of imagining that step behind +again, and he recalled at one point the +almost welcome pain of a stubbed toe. But for +the rest, he was too frightened to take it all in.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> + By the time the tenderfoot reached the +summit of old Death Head and stood within +fifty feet of the haunted tree, he was too +frightened to move, and he almost <i>expected</i> +to see the thing which he most feared. The +sky was overcast again, but a dim white +something towered before him—the haunted +tree—and—and——!</p> + +<p>But just at that moment the clouds broke, +and the full moon, now all unveiled, flooded +the scene with light.</p> + +<p>Naked, stark, ghostly, the blasted pine-tree +rose before him. With a sudden spasm +at his heart Danny looked for the swinging +dead man. But if anything unearthly hung +from those bare white branches, his mortal +eyes were spared the vision. And presently +his awakening reason began to urge: "There +are no such things as 'ghosts.'"</p> + +<p>The next moment the young scout came +fully to himself, and withdrew quickly from +the all-revealing flood of moonlight to the +friendly shadow of a low shrub. He began +to peer sharply about. The growth around<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +was ragged, with great spaces between. If +there was anything here that a scout ought +to note, the opportunity was ideal.</p> + +<p>He must perform the duty for which he +was here! His leader had told him to +know the spot before he showed up in camp +again.</p> + +<p>Danny began skirting about in the shadows, +getting every angle he could on the scene, +and exploring adjacent wood lanes. It is +true that he kept well away from the haunted +tree, but he came back to its vicinity every +now and then. And each time as he came +he managed to force himself to approach it +closer.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer he got to it, and then, +suddenly, he heard issue from somewhere in +its branches a low, sighing moan. Danny +thought he would drop in his tracks, but he +did not. Instead, he stood as still as death +and listened.</p> + +<p>That moan again! Every time a gust of +wind came, the dim, weird sound trembled +along the night.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> + The moon was shining brilliantly now. +Danny stood staring at the haunted tree.</p> + +<p>All at once he crept forward, sharply intent +on something.</p> + +<p>What was that straight black line against +the sky? Where did it come from?—that +haunted tree?</p> + +<p>Another moment and Danny was at the +foot of the ghostly pine-tree, staring upward +at the crisscross of its naked branches.</p> + +<p>There was no swinging dead man there, +but there was <i>something</i>—at the top!</p> + +<p>Danny dropped to the ground and retreated +a little on all fours for a better view-point. +'Way up, two parallel black bars rose against +the sky.</p> + +<p>A scout must keep his head!</p> + +<p>Now, no boughs of a tree ever grew that +straight! And what were those orderly black +lines which extended from one bar to the +other?</p> + +<p>That moan again!—or—or was it the sound +of a wire, played upon by the wind?</p> + +<p>Danny shifted his position again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> + Yes, that black line across the sky connected +directly with the queer something in +the tree top.</p> + +<p>"<i>Wireless!</i>" said the scout's head to him.</p> + +<p>Danny stood up. All childish fear of a +swinging ghost had dropped away from him. +He had not the slightest inclination now to +cry like a baby about anything.</p> + +<p>He was a scout on duty!</p> + +<p>Another moment and he was creeping, +velvet-footed, through the woods, following +that black line as it led away from the haunted +tree. At the other end of it must be a receiving-station!</p> + +<p>And it was no easy task which his duty set +him. Over sharp rocks and through tangled +briers that black line led him on. Sometimes +the moon would desert him and he would lose +the clue for a while. Sometimes he would +be forced to abandon his clue to skirt around +an insuperable barrier. But he always came +back to it, always pressed on.</p> + +<p>On and on! And then, suddenly, the line +disappeared. It ended, or seemed to end in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +large pile of boulders which clung to the mountainside. +The undergrowth was dense here.</p> + +<p>Danny circled about the spot. Yes, the +wire stopped here. He began creeping through +the underbrush—feeling his way along the +side of a great boulder.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his hand touched—<i>nothing</i>!</p> + +<p>The scout stopped and thought. There +was some sort of break in the rock here.</p> + +<p>Danny had a flashlight in his pocket which +he had been too cautious to use. He thought +of it now, and hesitated. Then he slipped +it out and pressed the spring.</p> + +<p>Before him was what seemed the door of a +cave. He looked closer. Yes, the wire led +into the cave. Darkness, again, for he was +afraid to use his light any longer.</p> + +<p>Danny dropped to his all-fours and crept +into the black hole. A floor of soft sand +helped him to advance noiselessly. After a +few yards the scout reached a turn in the +rocky passageway, and——</p> + +<p>His eye caught a big, black-hooded shadow +humped over a point of light!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> + Danny withdrew quickly behind the sheltering +turn in the wall, and crouched in the +sand, dead-still. But his blood was up. He +took a second look.</p> + +<p>A man was sitting over some sort of instrument, +and over his ears were cups, something +like Danny had seen worn by the girl at the +telephone central station. The one point of +light in the big dark recess was turned on a +note-book under the man's hand.</p> + +<p>The young scout drew back, and crept +silently out of the cavern.</p> + +<p>Out under the stars again, and this time +with his blood on fire! A spy, a German +spy sat in that cave and sent messages——!</p> + +<p>Only yesterday a fleet of transports had +slipped out of the harbor, with thousands of +American soldiers on board—submarines—sea-raiders!</p> + +<p>But a scout must keep his head.</p> + +<p>Help? Which way could help be found? +The boys were scattered, McKenzie would +not be in camp. Nobody knew when to expect +Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> + Which way? Which way? Oh, yes, down +over the drop of the cliff to the south yonder +was the mountain wagon road by which their +scouting party had ascended that afternoon. +If he could get to the road he could find +somebody somewhere—surely, there were a +few inhabitants hereabouts!</p> + +<p>That German was sending wireless messages +right this minute—— Yes, the shortest way +to the road was the only way for a fellow to +take now! And Danny took it.</p> + +<p>When he reached the cliff, spent and sore, +a new difficulty presented itself. A sheer +fifty-foot drop still separated him from the +road. He crept along the edge searching for +a footing by which to descend, and presently +found one that looked possible. There were +broken, shelving places here, and tufts of +growing things down the face of the dizzy +wall.</p> + +<p>Danny began to climb down. But he +found it harder than he had thought, and at +times he was a mere human fly clinging to a +rock wall.</p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0036a-illus.jpg" id="p0036a-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0036a-illus.jpg" width="500" height="769" alt="A spy sending messages" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">A man was sitting over some sort of instrument.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> + Nearly down—only about fifteen feet more! +But at that moment the human fly's hold +crumbled under his clinging fingers, and he +dropped. It ought not to have been a bad +fall, but the trouble was a loosened rock followed, +and came down on one arm as its +owner lay prostrate on the ground.</p> + +<p>Danny lay very still for a few moments, +looking at the stars and thinking of—nothing!</p> + +<p>Then presently the sound of human voices +came to him from somewhere out of the night. +With an effort he raised up a little to push +off the stone from his arm, but he dropped +back again.</p> + +<p>The stars began to swim at that, and the +voices to grow fantastic.</p> + +<p>But a scout—must—keep—his head!</p> + +<p>Those voices sounded familiar! Danny +summoned all his strength, and sent the wavering +call of a wounded whippoorwill along +the night.</p> + +<p>Silence, and then a whippoorwill answered +sharply from out the forest.</p> + +<p>Danny called again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> + Shortly after that came low voices and the +sound of hurrying feet. Then Mr. Gordon, +the Scout Master, McKenzie, their leader, +and jolly old Biddie Burton were hovering +over him.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?" they asked in one breath.</p> + +<p>But Danny cried out feverishly: "There's +a German spy sending wireless messages from +old Death Head, and our transports have put +to sea!" And he told them, brokenly, the +story of his find.</p> + +<p>There was consternation among them for +one brief moment, and then everybody woke +to action.</p> + +<p>They must get the man at once—but <i>which +way</i> to go?</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon spoke quickly:</p> + +<p>"You stay with Danny, Burton; McKenzie +and I will go back to the Death Head and +follow the clue from there." And even as he +spoke he and McKenzie were hurriedly, but +tenderly, binding up the wounded arm, while +Biddie improvised a comforting sling for it.</p> + +<p>But Danny knew that the route by way of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +old Death Head was long and circuitous. +And he knew also that the shortest way is +the only way to take when one's duty to +one's country calls.</p> + +<p>He got to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I'll show you the shortest way," he said.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>How they found means of scaling the cliff, +how they accomplished their stealthy journey +back to the hidden wireless station, +piloted by the wounded tenderfoot whom +they supported at every step, is too long a +story to tell.</p> + +<p>But they reached the mouth of the dark +cave. The two boys were left outside, and +very shortly thereafter Mr. Gordon and +McKenzie brought out between them a big +shadowy figure with its hands bound together.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>That night, the east-bound passenger was +flagged at the little station in the valley, +and there boarded it a squad of boy scouts +with their leaders, who guarded between them +a captured German spy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> + "Gordon, how did you manage it?" called +a voice, from some distance down the long +coach as they entered.</p> + +<p>For answer, Mr. Gordon took hold of a little +boy who wore his left arm in a sling and, +pushing him gently forward, said before that +whole car full of curious, excited people:</p> + +<p>"We had an American on guard to-night."</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The Probate Judge's office in the old courthouse +on the square was, the next morning, +the scene of a most unusual gathering.</p> + +<p>Danny and his mother had been asked by +the Scout Master to meet him there at ten +o'clock. Mr. Gordon had sent his request +in the form of a brief note which explained +that the Boy Scout Court of Honor was to +be in session that morning, and said that he +wished his youngest scout to be present.</p> + +<p>Danny's mother was strangely elated over +the request, but Danny did not know why. +He was so young in the business of scouting +that some details of the system had not yet +become definitely his.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> + He ventured one surmise when the note +was read—something in connection with +the taking of that German spy, of course. +Maybe the Whippoorwills were to be commended +for delivering the goods. And +Danny's mind's eye recalled again the stirring +scene—McKenzie and Mr. Gordon marshalling +to the station between them the big +German whom they had captured and bound, +and he and the other scouts trudging along +in excited escort. It was a wonderful thing +to be a man, Danny thought wistfully—to +be big and strong enough to lay a compelling +hand on the enemy in our midst and say:</p> + +<p>"I want you!"</p> + +<p>But it will have to be recorded that +Danny's mother acted a little queerly on +receipt of the note. When Danny said that +perhaps the Whippoorwills were to be commended +for "delivering the goods," his +mother looked up at him quickly, as if in +surprise. Then she laughed a little and cried +a little, and then she dashed off for her hat +and wraps like a girl.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> + At ten o'clock sharp, Danny and his mother +presented themselves at Judge Sledge's door. +As they paused to knock, a voice came to +them through the closed door—a familiar +voice, and it sounded very earnest. Then +the door was opened in response to their +knock.</p> + +<p>They hesitated a moment while they took +in the quiet, dignified scene within. Portly +old Judge Sledge was sitting well forward +in his office chair with his spectacles pushed +back upon his bald head, while Doctor Cranfield +and several gentlemen whom Danny +knew only by sight were grouped about him. +All were in the attitude of listening intently to +a man who stood before them—Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p>Danny's quick glance took in all this, including +the background of khaki-clad Whippoorwills, +plastered against the wall beyond.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen rose, on the entrance of +Mrs. Harding, and the scouts crowded forward +to whisper excitedly to Danny.</p> + +<p>But Danny did not have time to listen to +them, for Doctor Cranfield—taking him by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +his good arm—turned him about, and said +to the company:</p> + +<p>"This is the boy."</p> + +<p>There was an agonizing moment to Danny +in which he realized that everybody in the +room was looking at him. Then he had to +be introduced. It was very, very trying, +for each man to whom Danny gave his hand +in greeting looked him over from head to +foot, and made embarrassingly personal, if +kindly, remarks about him.</p> + +<p>"He was a small chap for the job."</p> + +<p>"He ought to be <i>red-headed</i>."</p> + +<p>"He was his mother's son."</p> + +<p>Danny looked across the group into his +mother's eyes and caught there an expression +which he was never to forget. And she +was smiling—in spite of the tear-mist over +her beautiful eyes—she was smiling.</p> + +<p>When they resumed their seats, there returned +upon the group the touch of ceremonial +quiet and earnestness which the entrance +of the newcomers had for the moment +dispelled.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> + Mr. Gordon took a chair behind Mrs. +Harding and explained to her and Danny in +a low tone that the session was nearly over. +Judge Sledge had been compelled to convene +the court earlier than the appointed hour.</p> + +<p>The other men were talking apart. Presently, +one of them turned to the Scout +Master and said:</p> + +<p>"Following what you have just related, +Mr. Gordon—do you think that it was quite +wise in your patrol leader to send out a mere +tenderfoot on a really dangerous commission?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon was about to reply, when +McKenzie stepped forward and saluted. +"May I answer that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The court assented, and all turned to hear.</p> + +<p>"Our private advices had been," began +McKenzie, with his Indianlike figure drawn +up to its full height, "that it was Camelback +Mountain which was under suspicion. We +located our camp on a parallel range, and +miles from the suspected vicinity. Mr. Gordon +and I and several of the older boys were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +later to take in hand the serious work of +Camelback, but we thought it well to give +the others a little experience. I had not intended +to employ the tenderfoot till I overheard +the boys teasing him. I sent him to +the Death Head to redeem himself in his +own eyes and in theirs."</p> + +<p>"Please, may I speak?" Biddie Burton +had come forward eagerly.</p> + +<p>With the permission of the judge, Biddie +hurried on:</p> + +<p>"Without letting the other boys know, +McKenzie told me to follow Danny in case +his courage should give out completely. But +he gave me my orders to keep well in the +rear. He wanted Dan to go to the haunted +tree by himself, if he would—to win his spurs, +you see."</p> + +<p>"Did you follow Harding all the way?" +someone interrupted.</p> + +<p>"All the way to the haunted tree? Yes, +sir, and he <i>did</i> go! He went right up to it +and circled all about it. Then the earth +seemed to open and swallow him up. I looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +and looked for him. Then I ran back for +help. I found McKenzie and Mr. Gordon, +and we all three started out after Dan. You +have heard the rest."</p> + +<p>This seemed satisfactory, and the judge +turned to Danny.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Daniel," he said, "and tell +the court now how you captured your wireless +operator."</p> + +<p>Danny started.</p> + +<p>"I didn't do it, sir," he said in embarrassment. +"Mr. Gordon and Willard McKenzie +captured the man. I only showed them +where he was."</p> + +<p>The men exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the judge, again, "come here +and tell us what you <i>did do</i>."</p> + +<p>Danny came forward.</p> + +<p>"Salute!" he heard Biddie whisper.</p> + +<p>Danny saluted.</p> + +<p>"Now," said the judge, "tell these gentlemen +here what—what you told <i>your mother</i> +when you got back from the mountains last +night."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> + Danny looked at his mother. Her eyes +were misty again, but she was nodding to +him to do as the judge directed.</p> + +<p>The tenderfoot stood embarrassed before +them and told the story exactly as he had +related it to his mother. He didn't like to +do this, for he was very much ashamed of +having to tell how frightened he had been, +and how he had had to force himself to go +forward.</p> + +<p>The men listened intently. Once in a +while one would interrupt to ask a question.</p> + +<p>When Danny got to the point in his story +of his acceptance of McKenzie's commission +to cover old Death Head, a dark-eyed, quiet +man on the judge's right leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"One moment, Harding," he said. "McKenzie +told us before you entered that you +were afraid to go when the boys dared you, +but that when he told you to go on the scouting +trip, you said, 'this is different.' What +did you mean by its being 'different'?"</p> + +<p>Danny looked up from his nervous fingering +of the judge's paper-weight.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> + "I meant that it was for my country," +he answered simply.</p> + +<p>The dark-eyed man glanced at the others.</p> + +<p>"<i>Beat that</i>," he said in a low tone to +them.</p> + +<p>Judge Sledge took down his spectacles +from his bald head, adjusted them on his +nose, and looked hard at the boy.</p> + +<p>"Proceed," he commanded, after a moment.</p> + +<p>Danny proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Weren't you afraid to crawl into that +cave?" one of them asked in the course of +the story.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Danny.</p> + +<p>Later, another interrupted with:</p> + +<p>"But if your arm was broken and paining +you, why didn't you stay with Burton, there, +and let the others go by the way of Death +Head, and take up the clue you had followed?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you see," answered Danny, "we +had to get to the man quickly to stop his +telegraphing. I knew a short route to him."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> + "Exactly," said the judge, nodding, then +he turned to the men about him.</p> + +<p>"All right, gentlemen?" he asked.</p> + +<p>There was a whispered conference of a +few moments, and then, to Danny's surprise, +they all turned to him.</p> + +<p>"Daniel," said the judge, "do you know +why this Court of Honor has been called +into session?"</p> + +<p>Danny's glance swept the khaki-clad +figures against the wall—he looked at Mr. +Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I hope," he answered to the judge, "that +you like what we did."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the judge, smiling this time, +"yes, the Whippoorwills are quite in our +good graces, and we commend the promptness +and efficiency of Mr. Gordon and your +leader, McKenzie. However, this court has +been called together to sit in judgment on +<i>your</i> part in last night's performance. Daniel, +do you realize that you have done bravely +and well?"</p> + +<p>Danny stood for one moment, stunned by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +the dawning realization of what this meant. +Then he looked across at his mother. Life +holds for a boy no higher, happier moment +than that in which he realizes he has made +his mother proud of him.</p> + +<p>Without waiting for him to reply, the judge +was continuing:</p> + +<p>"This court finds, Danny, that in spite +of very human, very natural fears, and at +the cost of suffering to yourself, you performed +a service to your country which may +be more far-reaching than any of us dream. +And if there is anything braver than the +conquering of fear, anything more manly +than the voluntary endurance of pain for +a high cause, or any earthly motive of action +higher than one's duty to one's country, we +have never found it.</p> + +<p>"Now, Son, it is not within the power of +this, our local court, to confer upon you what +we think you deserve. It is ours, however, +to recommend to the Boy Scout National +Court of Honor that you be awarded the +Honor Medal. This we are going to do because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +we believe you have saved more than +life by your prompt action, and we know +that you did it at the cost of suffering to +yourself and at the risk of your own life."</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>When, a few weeks later, the Honor Medal +did arrive and was pinned upon Danny's +breast, the young scout found it necessary +to take his little mother in hand.</p> + +<p>"'If you cry like a baby,'" he whispered +laughingly but with his arms about her, +"'I'll <i>disown</i> you!'"</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 52]<br />[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<h2>UNDER THE FLAG</h2> + +<p>"<i>Louise!</i>"</p> + +<p>The little girl came to a halt suddenly +and nearly dropped her book-satchel. +Somebody had called her name—some startling, +mysterious voice had called her!</p> + +<p>She looked hurriedly about, but there was +nobody in sight—nobody but a saucy squirrel +perched upon a park bench, and a redbird flitting +along the open between the enclosing +hawthorns.</p> + +<p>Which one had called?</p> + +<p>"<i>Louise!</i>"</p> + +<p>The little girl started back, too frightened +to scream—it was the hawthorn!</p> + +<p>But the next moment a boyish bullet-head +appeared between parted boughs.</p> + +<p>"Come here!" exclaimed its owner in suppressed +excitement. "We've got something +to tell you!"</p> + +<p>Down went the book-satchel, but not in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +fear this time. Billy Hastings had called—called +excitedly—and Billy was known to furnish +nearly all the third-grade thrills there +were. So the next moment Louise was stooping +her way under the hawthorn boughs in +answer to her playfellow's summons.</p> + +<p>Billy was not alone in the green grotto in +which Louise presently found herself, for +nearly half the third-grade members were +there. There was wide-eyed Tinsie Willis, +with her little frilly skirts bristling with excitement, +with Mamie Moore swallowing to +keep back hysterical tears, and Sadie and +Lallie Raiford, with their backs to each other +for safe-keeping. And there were boys, a +whole mob of boys!</p> + +<p>The children were huddled together in suppressed +excitement, and were whispering all at +the same time. It was plain that something +terrible, something menacing, had happened.</p> + +<p>"You know that new boy that came to +school this morning—?" began one.</p> + +<p>"That 'Rudolph Kreisler'?" put in another.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> + "Sh-h-h!" interrupted a third wildly.</p> + +<p>But Billy Hastings thrust his red, round +face close to Louise's and announced in a +blood-curdling whisper:</p> + +<p>"<i>Rudolph Kreisler is a German spy!</i>"</p> + +<p>Louise's legs crumpled under her, and she +sat down in a heap.</p> + +<p>Again they were all talking at the same +time, and this time at her.</p> + +<p>"He's got his trousers' pockets just <i>full</i> of +something!" exclaimed Pete Laslie.</p> + +<p>"And he's watching, <i>watching</i>!" put in +another. "Didn't you see him sitting off +there by himself looking at us while we played +ball?"</p> + +<p>"Spying!" hissed Luke Musgrove over +Billy Hastings's shoulder.</p> + +<p>The children started and looked about apprehensively. +Luke's words always carried +weight by reason of the fact that he had been +two years in the third grade and ought to +know what he was talking about if he didn't.</p> + +<p>"Yes," chimed in Billy, coming close to +Louise again and speaking in his most dramatic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +tone. "Just you dare to draw a deep +breath, and he'll tell the Kaiser on you!"</p> + +<p>Louise gasped—a short, a curtailed little +gasp. Never till the Great War should be +over would she breathe from her diaphragm +again!</p> + +<p>"Oh-o-o-o, <i>Louise</i>!" from round-eyed Tinsie +Willis.</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>"</p> + +<p>"You've left your book-satchel out there +in the path! Just suppose he were to come +by and see it!"</p> + +<p>There was a moment of consternation, of +wild chattering, in which everybody poked +his head out to see, but nobody would venture +far enough to get the incriminating satchel.</p> + +<p>Then Tommie Warren had an inspiration. +Snatching a crooked-handle umbrella from +Ella Vaiden, he flung himself flat on the grass +and reached for the tell-tale satchel with the +crook.</p> + +<p>"It's a good thing Ella brought that umbrella!" +exclaimed Tinsie. And all looked at +Ella, who stood up very straight in spite of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +the low-dipping boughs. The next moment +Louise had her beloved book-satchel hugged +close to her pounding heart.</p> + +<p>"Sh-h-h!" suddenly came from a self-constituted +sentinel.</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>He's coming!</i>"</p> + +<p>The crowd in the bushes stood tiptoe and +breathless as the German spy came down the +hawthorn path.</p> + +<p>He was a small lad—small for the third +grade—with big blue eyes and a shock of +tawny hair. The Kaiser had not equipped +him very well, for there was a suggestion of +poverty about his mended clothes. But, +after all, maybe those carefully darned places +at his knees were only a part of an adroit disguise. +His pockets <i>were</i> bulging, and with +knotty-looking somethings very suggestive of +poorly concealed bombs. He was not whistling, +as a perfectly good American would have +been, but walked slowly and with his head +down. It was very suspicious!</p> + +<p>He passed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> + "Let's get him now!" suggested Luke.</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Billy. "Get some +rocks!" And instantly all was excitement, +the uncensored noise of which reached the little +German and caused him to take to his heels.</p> + +<p>In the confusion of the next few moments +Louise scarcely realized what they were +about. But when they tore out of the bushes, +snatching up rocks as they went, and rushed +after their flying prey, her heart stood still. +He was such a <i>little</i> boy!</p> + +<p>With the back of her hand pressed tight +against the sobs that would not be stifled, and +with tears raining down her cheeks, the little +girl followed in the wake of the howling mob.</p> + +<p>Then somebody rounded a hawthorn bush +and came bang up against her. It was Jimmie +Fisher, a big, red-headed rock of strength, +who could carry lightly the heaviest book-satchels +there were.</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about?" he asked, +after his first quick survey of her.</p> + +<p>"They—they are killing Rudolph Kreisler!" +sobbed Louise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> + "No," assured Jimmie, "he'll get home +free. He lives just across there. Are these +your books?"</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The next day matters only grew worse.</p> + +<p>The whole atmosphere of the third grade +had become electric with suspicion of a certain +little boy who, looking neither to right +nor to left, kept his wistful blue eyes bent on +the task before him. When Rudolph stood +up at the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, +Luke growled out that he was "just pretending." +And when, from his seat near the +door, the German lad answered the knock of +a visitor, Ella Vaiden whispered audibly:</p> + +<p>"See <i>that</i>? He wants to see <i>who's there</i>!"</p> + +<p>In recitation Rudolph answered the questions +put to him with despicable German efficiency, +but Luke missed with conspicuous +patriotism and went noisily foot.</p> + +<p>But through it all Louise was doing her +own thinking. She was a loyal little citizen +and loved her country with all her heart; but +there flowed through her veins the blood of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +a long line of Americans who had been just +and fair. The little girl was afraid of German +spies—afraid for her country—and Rudolph +Kreisler's pockets did bulge ominously. +If Rudolph Kreisler <i>was</i> a German spy, why +he would have to be dealt with, of course.</p> + +<p>But if he wasn't——?</p> + +<p>Louise wished with all her heart that Miss +Barclay, the teacher, would suspect this terrible +smothered tragedy that was being enacted +within her class. Of course one's +teacher, like one's mother, could solve every +problem; and Miss Barclay in particular could +command the storms of childhood to be still. +If only Miss Barclay knew!</p> + +<p>But in third-grade ethics it was "dishonorable" +to "tattle," so Louise was compelled +to hold her peace and think fast. There were +recesses ahead in which covertly cruel things +might happen, and an after-school walk +through a lonely park from which a real <i>little</i> +boy might not get home free. Something +must be done.</p> + +<p>At first recess the boys and girls were, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +usual, separated in their play, but Louise—observing +from afar—saw that the little German +sat by himself on the steps, and watched +the spirited ball-play of the others with keen +alertness. Yes, it was very suspicious.</p> + +<p>Big recess brought with it an unusual privilege +that day. The third-grade boys and +girls were to be allowed to mingle together +and on the front lawn, in order to keep them +from under the feet of certain workmen who +were making excavations through the school-grounds.</p> + +<p>This was all very thrilling, for it was from +a tall staff on the front lawn that their +beautiful new flag was floating, and to-day +they would be able to see it close—to touch +the pole with their very hands! Then, too, +it would be so remarkable to play with +<i>boys</i>.</p> + +<p>Louise pondered it all as the third-grade +girls filed down to their lunch-room. Rudolph +Kreisler was not there, of course, but Rudolph +would be with them among the other boys at +play-time. She would then be able to watch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +him narrowly—to keep an eye on those bulging +pockets.</p> + +<p>All the other girls were chattering over +their lunch, but Louise drank her milk and +ate her sandwich in thoughtful silence.</p> + +<p>Presently a hand was laid upon her heavy +curls and she looked up with a start. The +principal was smiling down at her.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, little tragedy +queen?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Louise blushed and tried vainly to reply.</p> + +<p>The teacher serving the sandwiches answered +the principal.</p> + +<p>"Of 'the impossibility of all things,'" she +said with a curious sidewise smile.</p> + +<p>The principal put his hand under Louise's +chin and, tilting her head back, looked deep +into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You must run and play a great deal," he +said, and passed on.</p> + +<p>Then, when the last sandwich had gone the +way of all good sandwiches, they repaired to +the front lawn.</p> + +<p>It was all so wonderful—so green and cool + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +and stately-looking. And there, sure enough, +was the great new flag, curling and uncurling +in the fitful wind—'way up against the +sky!</p> + +<p>The boys were already out on the green +when the little girls were marched down the +steps and disbanded among them to enjoy +the most unusual privilege of joining in their +games. Then, all suddenly a great awkwardness +came down upon the girls. How was one +to play with boys at recess? Of course <i>after +school</i> it came natural enough to mingle with +them, but this was not "after school"! It +was most embarrassing.</p> + +<p>Louise found herself timid in the chaperoned +recess-presence of Jimmie and Billy and +Luke, and began to back away toward the +steps.</p> + +<p>"Look out!" shouted Billy suddenly.</p> + +<p>Louise jumped to "look out." Behind her, +on the bottom step, sat the German spy. +She had nearly backed into him!</p> + +<p>In the face of danger, embarrassment +dropped away. The next moment Louise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +had fled back to her countrymen and was listening, +excited, to their eager whispers.</p> + +<p>"Rudolph Kreisler sits by himself—always +by himself. Isn't that funny?"</p> + +<p>"Just look at him <i>now</i>!"</p> + +<p>"See him watching the flag?"</p> + +<p>"Get that gleam in his eye? Look, quick!"</p> + +<p>"Old rascal! He got home free yesterday—but +just you wait!"</p> + +<p>And so they stood apart from him and +whispered.</p> + +<p>The German spy dug his toes in the sand +a little longer, then rose and moved a few +steps farther up.</p> + +<p>Then Ella Vaiden declared that they were +wasting time, and proposed that they begin +a game.</p> + +<p>But nobody knew what to play.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you!" exclaimed Louise. "Let's +play 'Under the Flag.'"</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked several.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—" began Louise, inventing +the game as she proceeded, "it's this way: +you go stand under the flag and look up at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +it till the wind blows it out straight—and—and +then you make a wish. If the flag floats +wide till you have finished, your wish will +come true."</p> + +<p>All were interested at once, and the game +began. The fitful, boisterous wind took an +active part and the play became spirited.</p> + +<p>Tinsie Willis was the first to come "under +the flag," but she was so excited she forgot +to wish till the broadly floating banner had +wrapped itself about its staff and her opportunity +was gone.</p> + +<p>Then everybody began talking at once, +and Mamie Moore piped up: "I'm going to +wish for a pair of shiny-bug slippers!"</p> + +<p>Louise was shocked, and quickly explained +that when one wished under the flag it must +be for something serious and from the very +depths of one's heart.</p> + +<p>"Sure," supported Jimmie of the red head. +"You can wish for shiny-bug slippers under +an umbrella!"</p> + +<p>But Mamie couldn't then think of anything +more serious than the need of gilt slippers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +and was promptly ruled out till her +imagination should come to her assistance.</p> + +<p>Several boys took turns next, but they +were so noisy and boisterous that they came +near spoiling everything.</p> + +<p>Then Flora Archer took her place. Flora +was a thoughtful little girl who carried around +in her eyes a deep, deep something people +never understood. With her lips close to +the flagpole, she whispered her message to +it, and all the while the beautiful banner +streamed out to its farthest length.</p> + +<p>Flora came back without speaking, and the +children looked at her in curious silence. +But when the others were noisily choosing +times again, Flora slipped her hand into +Louise's and whispered:</p> + +<p>"I wished for our soldiers to win in the war, +but for them not to be cruel when they do."</p> + +<p>"Yours, Louise!" exclaimed somebody.</p> + +<p>And before Louise had time to examine the +depths of her heart to see what it was she +most desired, a half-dozen pair of friendly +hands pushed her forward. It was no time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +to hold back—to spoil the game. Louise +mounted the green knoll from which the +great flagpole rose.</p> + +<p>But she did not at once look up. Her +glance had accidentally lighted on the lonely +figure on the steps, and was resting there +for a moment in startled contemplation.</p> + +<p>He was such a <i>little</i> boy, and he seemed so—apart! +But one must make no mistakes +where one's country was involved. <i>Were</i> his +blue eyes "gleaming" with vengeful purpose? +Or were they only full—of shining tears?</p> + +<p>"Look up! Look up!" the children called.</p> + +<p>Louise threw back her head—threw it back +so far that the familiar scene about her became +lost to her view and she beheld nothing +but the vision above. Amid the battling +tree tops and against a threatening sky the +flag of freedom streamed out in all its rippling +glory—red for the courage of American +hearts, white for the purity of purpose they +should harbor, and blue for truth, like that +higher, farther heaven above the gathering +clouds. Now rippling, now curling, wreathing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +snapping, and now—straight out, fronting +the coming storm!</p> + +<p>"Quick! Quick!" the children shouted, as +Old Glory floated free.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the child stretched up her hands. +It was not a wish, but a prayer, that her +young heart sent up to her country's flag.</p> + +<p>"Help me to—play fair!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Louise saw her comrades only mistily when +she came down the green knoll again toward +them.</p> + +<p>Then all became babel again.</p> + +<p>"It's my time next!" exclaimed Luke +Musgrove, shouldering forward.</p> + +<p>"Who said so?" demanded another.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> said so," answered the big boy rudely, +and he strode to his place against the flagpole. +"I wish," he began in a loud, strident +voice, and without waiting for the wind to +come hurtling across the green, "I wish <i>to +wring the neck of that German spy</i>!"</p> + +<p>All eyes were quickly turned from the flag +to where a little wide-eyed boy shrank back +in terror against the steps.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> + "Glory be!" shouted Billy Hastings. +"Teacher's gone in—let's drag Rudolph under +the flag!"</p> + +<p>Instantly the flame of persecution swept +them, and they started after the alien lad.</p> + +<p>But at the foot of the steps somebody +blocked the way. Louise Carey had flung +herself between.</p> + +<p>"It's not fair, and you <i>shan't</i>!" she cried.</p> + +<p>The astonished mob wavered in indecision.</p> + +<p>"'Not <i>fair</i>?'" echoed Luke with a jeer.</p> + +<p>"No," stormed Louise. "We didn't <i>ask</i> +him to come under the flag, and you shan't +<i>make</i> him do it!"</p> + +<p>"We'll see about that—" began Luke.</p> + +<p>"<i>That we will!</i>" put in Jimmie Fisher, but +it was not to Louise that he spoke. He was +talking to Luke, and he planted himself protectingly +in front of Louise and the little +German, and faced the third-grade bully. +Never before in her life had Louise realized +how beautiful was a shock of bristling red hair.</p> + +<p>The third-grade bully was growling now, +but in a decidedly lower key.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> + "Now, then"—Jimmie was speaking to +Louise this time—"you are bossing this game. +Say what you want done with that—that—" +and he looked at the frightened Rudolph.</p> + +<p>Louise glanced up at the flag. It was floating +now—broad and free enough to cover all +who might come.</p> + +<p>"I am going to <i>invite</i> Rudolph to come +under our flag," she said.</p> + +<p>The children gasped as Louise held out +her hand to the little alien.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come and be American with +us?" she asked kindly.</p> + +<p>The boy drew back a moment while his blue +eyes searched her face for whatever hidden +cruelty might lurk beneath its seeming sweetness. +Then he smiled—a timid, but trusting +smile—and rising, took her extended hand.</p> + +<p>But Billy Hastings called jeeringly: "He's +a sneak! He's just doing it to pretend!"</p> + +<p>"He knows I'd drag him if he didn't come!" +exclaimed another.</p> + +<p>"Coward! <i>Coward!</i>" yelled Luke. "You're +afraid to refuse!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> + And then, all suddenly, something in the +German lad flamed up. He snatched his +hand from Louise's. He stood to his full +height with blazing eyes, and cried:</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!"</p> + +<p>The sound of the school-bell broke the +startled quiet which followed the alien's spirited +revolt.</p> + +<p>"<i>Please</i>," pleaded Louise, "don't mind +them! You've time yet to come under the +flag."</p> + +<p>But Rudolph stood indignant, immovable.</p> + +<p>"Get to your lines, children," and the +principal's call-bell was heard tapping above +on the porch.</p> + +<p>A group of boys came suddenly together +into a tight bunch.</p> + +<p>"We'll fix him after school," Louise heard +them threaten. And she knew that Rudolph +heard it, too—knew by the sudden whiteness +which swept over his face.</p> + +<p>The next minute the boys and girls were +drawn up in parallel lines ready to march into +the schoolhouse. Louise was at the end of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +line and Rudolph Kreisler was the last on the +boys' row. They were opposite each other.</p> + +<p>"Eyes front—march!" came the command, +and the lines moved forward with one impulse.</p> + +<p>"Eyes front!" But to save her life Louise +could not help stealing a sidelong glance at +Rudolph.</p> + +<p>To her horror she saw the little alien slip +quietly behind a rose-bush and drop out of +sight into the bricked-up area which furnished +window-space for the basement.</p> + +<p>With a flash Louise remembered that those +windows communicated directly with the engine-room, +and that the engine-room was +directly under the third grade.</p> + +<p>"Pay attention, Louise," came from the +porch, and Louise's startled, dark eyes were +turned to the front again.</p> + +<p>When the children were seated in their +room it developed that Miss Barclay had +been temporarily called away, and that a +scared-looking girl from the teacher training-class +was in charge of the third grade.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> + The new teacher did not miss Rudolph, +but the children did, and there was smothered +excitement in consequence.</p> + +<p>Louise, who had not breathed a word of +what she knew, sat grasping her desk with +both hands. Rudolph Kreisler had refused +to come under the flag! Of course they had +taunted him, but the stark fact remained +that he <i>had</i> refused. And then no human +being had ever seen inside those bulging pockets. +Rudolph Kreisler, bulging pockets and +all, was in the engine-room, right under their +feet!</p> + +<p>And then a new fear suddenly laid its grip +upon her heart. Suppose that German boy +should do something to the flag! She tried +to shift her position so that she could see out +of the window, but found it impossible.</p> + +<p>"Oh-o-o, teacher!" Louise jumped at the +sound of excitement in the voice from behind +her, but quieted somewhat when she realized +that it was Tinsie Willis who spoke. "Louise +has left her hat on the front lawn!"</p> + +<p>"Louise, go and get your hat," said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +substitute, looking all about the room to see +which one of the many little girls might be +the one reported.</p> + +<p>Louise rose from her seat with fear and +trembling and left the room.</p> + +<p>But the first glimpse of the out-of-doors +dispelled her great new fear—her flag was +still there!</p> + +<p>The stately lawn looked vast and awe-inspiring +now that one had to face its darkly +waving greens all alone, but Duty called. +She had left her hat by the flagpole, and she +now went timidly up to get it. She mounted +the green knoll. She looked up.</p> + +<p>To play fair—to play fair! And yet, one +must be loyal. One couldn't let German +spies go around with their pockets—Rudolph +Kreisler was in the engine-room right +now!</p> + +<p>Louise's grandfather and his father's father +had died for their country—would they know, +'way up yonder in heaven, if she of their own +blood were to turn coward at the test?</p> + +<p>It was too poignant a risk. Louise took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +hep young life in her hands. Down the green +knoll and around the rose-bush, and she +dropped into the brick area right by the window +which opened from the engine-room. It +was raised.</p> + +<p>The little girl peeped in, with her heart +swelling till she thought she would smother. +There was black dust on the floor and black +soot on the walls. And there in the centre +rose the huge black demon engine. But no +crouching enemy was to be seen anywhere—he +was hiding, of course!</p> + +<p>She slipped through the window, past the +great silent engine, and came face to face +with Rudolph Kreisler.</p> + +<p>The die was cast now.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," demanded Louise, choking with +excitement and fear, "are you a—a <i>German +spy</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the astonished boy, "<i>no</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what <i>are</i> you, then?" There was +no backing down now; she was going to have +it out with him.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to be—American," he said, his + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +lips threatening to quiver. "I—I thought I +was." And he looked away.</p> + +<p>One must know the truth when one's country +was at stake. Louise drew a quick breath.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you doing with your +pockets full of bombs, then?" she forced +herself to bring out.</p> + +<p>The little boy turned toward her again, +and began slowly to draw out the contents +of those suspicious pockets. A mitt, a top, +two balls, a kite-string, a chicken-foot, a gopher, +nails of various lengths, some tobacco +tags, and a grimy stick of candy were laid +one by one on the janitor's tool-bench, and +the German spy stood with his pockets turned +wrong side out.</p> + +<p>But one must have the <i>whole</i> truth.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing with balls and mitts +when you sit on the steps all the time?" the +little girl demanded, but with decidedly less +asperity this time.</p> + +<p>"I thought maybe they'd—let me play, +sometime." Something rolled down his cheek +and splashed on the front of his jacket.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> + "<i>Won't</i> they let you play?" choked Louise, +blinking hard to clear her suddenly clouded +vision.</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Well, why doesn't your mamma come +and scold the teacher about it?" she demanded +in indignant sympathy.</p> + +<p>"I haven't any mamma."</p> + +<p>"Oh-o-o! Well, you have a papa, haven't +you? Why doesn't <i>he</i> do something?"</p> + +<p>"Father says those who are born here +don't know how awful it is to have to choose——" +then he stopped.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't your father hate Germany?" +the little girl asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, no," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"Does he love America?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"Well! Well!" exclaimed the little girl. +Then—"Do you know, Rudolph, I'm sorry +for your papa!"</p> + +<p>But Rudolph did not answer this time. +He merely turned aside till his face was hidden.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> + Suddenly a remembered something gripped +Louise.</p> + +<p>"Rudolph," she said, "if you <i>are</i> American, +why did you refuse to come under the flag?"</p> + +<p>"I—I was going to—but they called me a +'coward,' and said I was afraid to refuse," he +answered huskily.</p> + +<p>Louise found herself batting very heavy +lashes again.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad I came to you," she said, +"because I never would have known that you +are not a German spy if you hadn't told me!"</p> + +<p>"Lou-i-i-se!"</p> + +<p>The two started at the call—it was in Tinsie +Willis's high-pitched voice. Evidently she +had been sent to find the truant.</p> + +<p>"Sh-h-h!" exclaimed Louise to Rudolph. +"They are after me for staying out so long. +I must go."</p> + +<p>"Those steps yonder lead to the front +hall," said the boy. "Go up that way."</p> + +<p>"But you must come, too!" Louise exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I can't," replied the miserable child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +"The boys are fixing to fight me. When +school is over I'll slip out and go home."</p> + +<p>"But why wait? Why don't you go +now?" asked the little girl, a strange uneasiness +coming over her.</p> + +<p>"The police will get me if I go out on the +street during school hours," answered he.</p> + +<p>"Lou-i-i-se!"</p> + +<p>"I'm going," whispered Louise to Rudolph, +"but <i>don't</i> let the boys catch you! Miss +Barclay has gone—and—and—<i>don't</i> let them +catch you, Rudolph!"</p> + +<p>The next moment she glided up the dark +stairway and came out into the big hall.</p> + +<p>Jimmie Fisher was emerging from the third-grade +cloaking-room with his hat and books.</p> + +<p>"Father's leaving for France with a hospital +unit," he explained hurriedly, "and +mother sent for me to tell him good-by." +Then he darted away.</p> + +<p>Miss Barclay gone! And Jimmie gone! +Had God himself deserted the third grade?</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>When Louise crept back into the schoolroom—ahead + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +of Tinsie Willis, who was still +searching for her—she found things very +troublous indeed. The children were naughty +and restless, and the substitute was—a substitute! +The whole class had been told to +stay in, and Louise was promptly included in +the sentence as soon as her tardy little face +appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>But she did not cry or fling herself about, +for she knew she had remained out of the +room overtime. Of course it had been for a +high purpose, but that she could not explain, +so she merely assented courteously and slipped +into her seat. Her grandfather and his +father's father had laid down their lives for +the right—if she did not succeed in living +through that dreadful half-hour of punishment, +she would be but another of her race +to die for a high cause.</p> + +<p>Matters grew worse, and now the wind and +the sky took a hand. The great trees outside +began to battle fiercely together, and +the sky frowned, darker and darker.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Louise—looking out of the window—saw + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +Perkins, the janitor, hauling down +the flag! Was the Houston Street School +surrendering to the Germans?</p> + +<p>For one unworthy moment Louise suspected +Rudolph Kreisler again. But she instantly +afterward reminded herself that he +had told her with his own lips he wished to +be American.</p> + +<p>Then the heavens opened and the floods +came. It was a terrible, terrible afternoon, +but children and substitute managed somehow +to live through it, and after so long a +time the gong sounded for the dismissal of +school.</p> + +<p>The children of the other grades marched +out. Tramp—tramp—it sounded terribly like +a host in retreat!</p> + +<p>Then quiet!—with the third-graders sitting +silent in their seats, trying to calculate how +many thousand years it would take for that +long clock-hand to move half-way round the +dial again.</p> + +<p>Louise began wondering at just what point +Rudolph Kreisler would steal out of his hiding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +and break for home. The rain had +stopped, and she hoped and believed that +the little German would make good his escape +before the third grade had finished serving +sentence.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Luke, raising his hand, asked of +the substitute:</p> + +<p>"May I speak to Billy Hastings on business?"</p> + +<p>The substitute was writing something and +assented without looking up. Louise could +not help hearing the hoarsely whispered +"business."</p> + +<p>"Connie Tipton," said Luke to Billy, "says +that that German spy has been hiding in the +basement but has slipped up-stairs—" The +hoarse whisper dropped lower at this point +and Louise could not catch the words which +followed. She guessed darkly, however, and +clung to her desk tighter and tighter.</p> + +<p>At that fateful moment the substitute +looked up and said:</p> + +<p>"Children, the others have all gone, and +it looks like rain again, so I am going to dismiss + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +you. File out quietly—I don't wish to +have to call you back."</p> + +<p>She did not rise from her seat to marshal +them out, taking care that the last one of +them was out of sight of the schoolhouse +before he slackened his pace. She merely +dropped her eyes to her writing again and +left them practically to their own devices.</p> + +<p>The boys marched through the cloaking-room +first, and they were ominously quiet +about it.</p> + +<p>Then the little girls rose and filed out. +Louise led the girls' line, but though she followed +swiftly in the wake of the boys, they +had disappeared off the face of the earth +when she reached the cloaking-room door +which opened into the hall.</p> + +<p>They had slipped off to hunt for Rudolph +Kreisler, and Louise knew it. She hoped +that Rudolph had left the building, but she +was not sure.</p> + +<p>Something must be done—but <i>what</i>?</p> + +<p>Just then she caught from above the sound +of tiptoeing and whispering.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> + It was dishonorable to "tattle," but it +wasn't dishonorable to fly after a set of lawless +boys and keep them from abusing an innocent +would-be American. Louise deserted +the head of her line and darted up the long +stairs.</p> + +<p>It was like a frightful nightmare—the +stealthy, breathless chase which followed. +She could not stop the boys in their mad +search, could not command their attention a +moment to explain. In and out they darted—fourth-grade, +fifth-grade, sixth-grade, seventh! +Every crack and cranny, every cloaking-room +and teacher's desk was made to +prove its innocence of sheltering the fugitive +spy. The scampering boys were just finishing +their search of the seventh grade when +Louise found herself at the foot of the garret +steps.</p> + +<p>She stopped and surveyed their boxed-up +secretiveness. What if Rudolph had gone +up there?</p> + +<p>From the sounds of disappointment now +issuing from the seventh grade she knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +the last schoolroom to be searched had not +yielded up the quarry. Yes, Rudolph must +be in the garret, and of course the boys would +pursue him there!</p> + +<p>Then a sudden idea came to her. If she +could but reach Rudolph first she might help +him to climb out of the garret window.</p> + +<p>Up the dark steps she flew, but, alas! there +were flying feet to follow! The others had +seen, and were coming after.</p> + +<p>They caught up with her before she reached +the top, and she and they burst into the long +garret room together.</p> + +<p>It was big with mystery—that long garret +place—and weirdly frightening with its half-lights +and whole shadows. For one moment +the children stood at pause before its awesome +silence.</p> + +<p>No German spy was in sight.</p> + +<p>Then the boys began searching hurriedly, +and after a quick glance about the open and +lighter space before them, went pushing their +quest farther and farther into the distant +dark of the wings and gables.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> + Louise stood where they had left her, with +the feeling that <i>the end of all things</i> was at +hand, and that there was no use to struggle +further. Presently her mist-dimmed eyes +were attracted to a pile of something over at +a small window near where she stood. The +janitor had thrown their beautiful flag across +an old couch without taking the trouble to +roll it properly.</p> + +<p>The indignant little girl started toward the +couch to straighten out and roll the flag +when her ear caught a sound which caused +her to pause a moment in dim speculation. +There was a step below, a firm, a familiar +step—but no, she must be mistaken!</p> + +<p>She slipped over to the couch, but the next +moment drew back and clapped her hand +over her mouth to repress a startled scream. +A little yellow-haired boy lay asleep upon the +couch, with the big flag nearly covering him!</p> + +<p>Louise leaned over him. Two shining drops +still lay on his cheek. He had sobbed himself +to sleep—he was such a <i>little</i> boy!</p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0086a-illus.jpg" id="p0086a-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0086a-illus.jpg" width="500" height="703" alt="Covered by the flag" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">"You can't touch Rudolph!" she tried. "He's under the flag!"</p> +</div> + +<p>A drift of damp air floated in from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +window, and the sleeper shivered and moved +as if to cuddle further under his shelter. +Louise very gently drew the bunting folds +closer about his neck. Somehow she <i>knew</i> +that this was not desecration.</p> + +<p>That steady step from below again and—nearer!</p> + +<p>But just at that moment the boys came +noisily back from the distant wings and +gables.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Louise! What are you doing +there?" Luke Musgrove called.</p> + +<p>Louise started up. She was between them +and the sleeping boy, but she could not screen +him from their astonished eyes.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but there he is!" exclaimed Billy. +"Let's——"</p> + +<p>But the spirit of a long line of just and fair +Americans was facing them. Louise Carey +was descended from ancestors who had bought +freedom and fair play with their blood, so in +that hour—when she faced the unthinking +lawless—there was a something in her eyes +which brought them to a stand before her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> + "You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. +"He's under the flag!"</p> + +<p>A quiet fell upon them. They looked first +at the sacred, sheltering flag of their country, +and then at each other. And while they yet +paused in awe there came to them the sound +of a steady, familiar step on the garret stair. +The next moment the door opened and there +entered Miss Barclay—the teacher who, by +her wisdom and her justice, could always command +to stillness the tempests of their childish +hearts.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2>AMERICA FIRST</h2> + +<p>Little Riego Yañez was a native of +Mexico—of that unhappy part of Mexico +which is constantly plundered by revolutionary +bands who spend their time in fighting, +and who win their supplies by robbing the +more stable people of the republic.</p> + +<p>Riego's father, Antonio Yañez, had suffered +many times at the hands of the revolutionists. +He was a saddler by trade, and also a small +farmer, so the products of his industry were +just what the warring bandits needed. But +the warring bandits did not pay for what they +needed. They merely took, and rode away!</p> + +<p>So Antonio decided on a desperate step—he +would emigrate to America.</p> + +<p>But Riego's mother objected to removing +to America. Mexico was rife with hatred +and distrust of the "gringos," and many and +dark were the stories told of the country north +of the Great North River. Besides, Riego's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +elder brother, Pascual, an unruly lad of fifteen, +was very bitterly opposed to the change.</p> + +<p>So it was at length decided that Antonio +should dare alone the dangers and hardships +of America. If all was as the revolutionists +said, he could escape back to Chihuahua. If, +by happy chance, he should prosper in the +new country, he would send for wife and +children.</p> + +<p>A year passed. The father's letters—few +and short, for he had had little schooling—were +chiefly concerned with begging them to +come and see for themselves.</p> + +<p>Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the +mother and children packed into a hired +wagon the tragic little which the bandits had +left them, and set their faces toward the Rio +Grande. They, too, were bound for that distrusted +country which lay north of the northern +edge of their world. The mother and the +two girls were hopeful, but Pascual was silent +and Riego afraid.</p> + +<p>Not till the night came down did they reach +the dark river which was to flow forever between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +the old life and the new. To little +ten-year-old Riego this all-pervading darkness +meant "America," for to his drowsy +brain and anxious heart the black clouds +above and the darkly rolling waters below +seemed to typify the spirit of the land into +which he was crossing.</p> + +<p>Another moment, however, and he had +given up the struggle to think it all out and +fallen asleep with his head on his mother's +lap.</p> + +<p>The next morning Riego waked up in a +better land.</p> + +<p>He sat up on his cot and blinked his black +eyes and stared about him at the cosey little +room. A flood of light poured in at the one +tiny window—Then the sun <i>did</i> shine in +this land of the gringos!</p> + +<p>This was very interesting. Riego hurried +into his clothes and started out to see America.</p> + +<p>His route of exploration led through a +cheery kitchen, where he found his two sisters +busy cooking breakfast, and smiling and +chatting at their work. But Riego had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +time to stop and question, for the green +things in the little garden beyond were beckoning +to him.</p> + +<p>In another minute he was out among them. +It was very green—this "America"—very +green and very sunny, with rows upon rows +of the most wonderful vegetables running out +to meet the morning sun!</p> + +<p>Soon Riego glimpsed his father and mother +beyond a dividing fence at the side, and he +ran at once to his father's arms. After the +first long embrace Riego drew back, the better +to see the father who had dared America +alone for his children's sake.</p> + +<p>Why—his brow was smoother than Riego +remembered!—his eyes clearer!—Did one +grow younger, happier, in America?</p> + +<p>And now Riego's mother was calling his +attention to the snow-white chickens which +fluttered about them. There was a cow, too, +Riego learned—a cow and a pony and pigs +and pigeons—and <i>all theirs</i>!</p> + +<p>Riego shouted for joy. But the next moment +the joy died upon his lips, and he asked:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> + "The revolutionists, father? How long +will they let us have these?"</p> + +<p>"Riego," said his father, "there are no +revolutionists in America. Here, if a man +works, he receives a just reward, and he is +allowed to keep in peace what he earns. Our +only danger is from across the border."</p> + +<p>Then Riego's mother told him that his +father had a fine saddle-shop which the +Americans never raided.</p> + +<p>It was all very, very wonderful!—A man +was paid well for working, and could keep in +peace what he earned!—Was this what was +meant by "<i>America</i>"?</p> + +<p>Riego's father's saddle-shop was the front +room of their little dwelling, and opened immediately +upon a small street in the Mexican +quarter of the village. It was a very interesting +place, indeed, for the wide door and +the hospitable bench just inside invited in +many an entertaining visitor, besides the +men who came to buy saddles or to have +their harness repaired.</p> + +<p>One of these visitors, Alonzo Lorente, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +particularly interesting to Riego and his +brother, though their father always became +moodily quiet when the man came. Lorente +was a big, dashing fellow, full of strange oaths +and of dark insinuations. And somehow, +whenever he entered, the air of the shop +became electric with an indefinable excitement.</p> + +<p>It did not take Riego long to see that, at +such times, his father managed to keep him +and Pascual so busy that they missed most +of their hero's inspiriting talk. Riego was +particularly unfortunate in this respect. He +spent little of his time in the shop where his +father and Pascual plied the saddler's trade, +for it was his duty to help in the market-garden.</p> + +<p>This deprivation of Lorente's society, however, +had its compensations. It was Riego's +especial work to peddle their vegetables at +the khaki tents of the gringo soldiers a few +miles away, and this was very entertaining +and exciting in itself, for the soldiers were +jolly and kind and said nice things to one.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> + And then, one rainy Saturday afternoon, +when the peddling was all done, Riego sat in +his father's shop and listened to Alonzo Lorente. +And Alonzo Lorente startled him +awake with the news that all was not well +with the land of America. He spoke darkly +of "gringos" and of "vengeance."</p> + +<p>Pascual, Riego noticed, crept closer and +closer to the big man, till his fingers forgot +the leather they should have been stretching.</p> + +<p>It was then that the unexpected happened. +The father, usually so quiet and so busy, suddenly +rose from his work-bench and came forward.</p> + +<p>"Lorente," he said, and Pascual and Riego +started at the iron in his tone, "Lorente, it is +not the busy men who have quarrel with +America. It is those who have time to do—much +talking!"</p> + +<p>There was a pause and dead silence, and +then Lorente the magnificent turned on his +heel with a growl and left the shop.</p> + +<p>Then Antonio returned to his work-bench, +with Riego following, but Pascual stole to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +door and gazed at the receding Lorente till his +father called him sharply to his duties.</p> + +<p>One day the father did not open his shop +at all. It was closed in honor of the great +American festival, Riego heard him explain +grimly to a follower of Lorente, who questioned. +And Riego heard the follower of +Lorente laugh scornfully as he strode away.</p> + +<p>There being no work that day, Pascual and +Riego set out together to explore the yet +farther reaches of America.</p> + +<p>But they had not gone far past the square +where loomed the several American stores +when they sighted a crowd in a grove of big +trees, and heard voices shouting and hands +clapping as if in great joy. A number of +gringo soldiers were roving about. Two were +coming leisurely toward them across the +green.</p> + +<p>Riego wanted to press forward to see and +hear, but his brother jerked him by the +sleeve, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"It is the Americans' great feast-day, the +Fourth of July. Come away!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> + "But father says <i>we</i> are Americans now. +Why can't we go and hear what they are +saying?" Riego's voice had risen in his +eagerness.</p> + +<p>The approaching soldiers stopped and +looked at him, and Riego's heart stopped, too.</p> + +<p>But the taller of the soldiers saluted him +in fine fashion, and addressed to him words +of courteous welcome:</p> + +<p>"Don Pedro de Alvarado-Rain-in-the-Face-Sitting-Bull, +for such as thou art is the picnic! +Welcome to our city!"</p> + +<p>Riego understood the gesture of invitation. +He thanked the courtly soldier, and walked +proudly forward, followed by his brother.</p> + +<p>It was a gay scene, but quiet now, for someone +was speaking. The starry banner of +America fluttered everywhere, and smiling, +white-faced señoritas and brown-clad soldiers +were gathered here and there in listening +groups. Under a tree, near the platform, sat +musicians with shining silver horns and a big +drum. A number of children were seated on +the grass in front of the stand. Among them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +Riego noticed, were many dark faces like his +own.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Riego's courage gave way and he +started to retreat. But a sweet-faced señora +took him by the hand and led him and Pascual +to a place where they could see everything, +whispering as they went:</p> + +<p>"It is our day of freedom."</p> + +<p>At first the boy was dazed by the strangeness +of the scene, and his interest shifted. +But the sound of a sweet, ringing voice soon +compelled his attention and he turned quickly +toward the platform.</p> + +<p>Riego caught his breath. Who was it? +<i>What</i> was it that was speaking to him?</p> + +<p>In the centre of the platform stood a clear-eyed, +white-faced goddess, with the flag of +the new country draped around her slender +form, and the sunlight of this day of freedom +beating down upon her shining head. She +was speaking, but in the difficult new tongue.</p> + +<p>Riego could not take his eyes away, but he +reached out his hand quickly to touch Pascual.</p> + +<p>The sweet-faced señora leaned over him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> + "America," she whispered in explanation.</p> + +<p><i>America!</i> Beautiful America! Riego crept +forward, unconscious now of the crowd +around. Oh, to <i>understand</i> America!</p> + +<p>Then a strange thing happened. The beautiful +goddess suddenly ceased speaking, and +her face became clouded with thought. Her +eyes were focussed on the eager boy who had +crept forward and was standing spellbound +before her—the most conspicuous of the +group of dark-faced, bewildered children.</p> + +<p>Riego did not know that everybody in that +audience had suddenly leaned forward in dead +silence.</p> + +<p>After one tense moment the Beautiful One +advanced to the edge of the platform and descended +the steps till she stood almost among +them.</p> + +<p>And now this strange, new, better country +was speaking to Riego <i>in his own tongue</i>!</p> + +<p>"You didn't <i>understand</i> me, did you?" she +asked in Spanish.</p> + +<p>"Not <i>then</i>, my lady!—but <i>now</i>!" It was +Riego who answered her, but the other dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +faces were alight like his own now. The +crowd was leaning forward again.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is all the trouble!" said the +Beautiful One. "Our new people simply do +not understand America! Do you wish me +to tell you the story in Spanish?"</p> + +<p>There were many who answered this time.</p> + +<p>Then she told them in their own tongue of +the great struggle for a new freedom and a +new peace which had been waged upon this +soil over a hundred years before. And the +breathless children heard how this new ideal +of freedom had passed all bounds of the +country in which it was born, and thrilled all +lands. They heard how the noble La Fayette +of France, Steuben of Prussia, and Kosciuszko +of Poland each had offered his all +that America might be forever a refuge for +the oppressed. They learned how the German +De Kalb had laid down his life at Camden +for the new faith, and how Count Pulaski +had poured out the last drop of his Polish +blood to make the world's great dream of +freedom "come true."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> + Then the Beautiful One told the children +how, throughout the more than one hundred +years since the fight was won, the footsore +and oppressed of many lands have found in +America work and a just reward for working, +the freedom to do anything which does not +harm another, and the great gift of peace!</p> + +<p>"And now," exclaimed the speaker, "which +of you will promise with me to be loyal to +America? Stand up!"</p> + +<p>And they stood up—the dark children, the +white-faced señoritas, the gringo soldiers, and +all!—and repeated after the Beautiful One:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When Riego turned from the inspiring scene +it was to see his brother Pascual walking +away, and in close conversation with Alonzo +Lorente.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The days passed, but Riego still treasured +in his heart his first vision of America. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +knew now that the Beautiful One was only +a charming señorita and daughter of the big +captain who commanded at the American +camp. But he liked to think of her as +"America"—the beneficent goddess who had +smoothed the furrows from his father's brow +and crowned his faithful labors with reward.</p> + +<p>And then, one momentous day, the Beautiful +One stood in the shop-door, asking in Spanish +if she might be allowed to enter. She was all +in white this time—snow-white. To Riego's +fond imagination she was still a shining goddess.</p> + +<p>Riego's father welcomed the señorita and +dusted the bench that she might sit and rest, +for Riego had told him of the great American +festival, and Antonio had learned much besides.</p> + +<p>The señorita had come to speak to the +father about his sons—and her smiling glance +included both the sullen Pascual and Riego, +who stood worshipfully by.</p> + +<p>It seemed that the señorita—Miss Flora +Arden was her name—was to teach a class of + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +"newly made Americans," and again her +glance included the boys. She wanted to +teach them to speak the English language +and to help them to a better understanding +of America. The señorita believed that most +of the trouble which the newly made Americans +encountered was due to the fact that +they did not know how to find and use the +good gifts which their new country had to +offer. And she was certain that most of the +trouble they <i>gave</i> was because they brought +old prejudices with them, and so did not open +their hearts to America.</p> + +<p>Riego understood the spirit of her proposal +better than he did the words of her correct +Spanish. His father listened throughout with +thoughtful, grave attention.</p> + +<p>There were no charges to be made for this +teaching? Then what was the señorita to +gain for so much effort?</p> + +<p>"I?" said the señorita—she was standing +now, ready to depart—"I gain a better country! +My father is a soldier and serves his +country by helping to keep the peace along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +this troubled border. If I had been a son I +might have done as much. But I am only a +daughter, Antonio! And yet"—and she put +her arm over Riego's shoulders as she spoke—"if +I help to make loyal even <i>one</i> of America's +adopted sons, am not I, too, serving my +country?"</p> + +<p>The father's rare smile assented to her +offer, even before his lips made the promise.</p> + +<p>Riego followed the Beautiful One to the +door.</p> + +<p>Outside, Alonzo Lorente slouched against a +lamp-post. The señorita looked into Lorente's +face and recoiled slightly. Riego saw +the recoil, and an unnamed fear suddenly laid +its hand upon his heart.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>Pascual and Riego went to Miss Arden's +class—Pascual sullen and uninterested, Riego +breathlessly eager. But they had not attended +many times—indeed, had just begun +to glimpse something of the bigness and goodness +of their new country—when the stroke +fell that was to change their little world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +The good father dropped at his work-bench, +speechless and bewildered. The American doctor +said he would be able to work again, but +that his mind would never be quite the same.</p> + +<p>Their wise father thus reduced to childishness, +and their mother ignorant of the new +conditions and the new tongue, the boys were +left to plan for themselves.</p> + +<p>Pascual left Miss Arden's class. He explained +that he would now have to take +charge of his father's shop; but he found time +to make many trips across the dark Rio +Grande and to talk much with Lorente, who +now resumed his old practice of dropping in +at the shop to chat. His younger brother, +however, continued under the señorita's instruction.</p> + +<p>Riego learned at Miss Arden's class that +"freedom" gives one the right to do as he +wishes only in so far as he does not wish to +interfere with the rights of another.</p> + +<p>"There is no 'freedom' except in loyal obedience +to law," she told him one day. "America +is a 'free' country because—though here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +are gathered people from all lands—they join +together in making laws which are kind and +impartial to all, and they stand together in +support of the laws they make."</p> + +<p>"But, señorita, Alonzo Lorente says—" began +the boy, and stopped short.</p> + +<p>"What does Alonzo Lorente say?" the +señorita asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"I—I promised not to tell," stammered the +child.</p> + +<p>There was the blue truth of heaven in the +señorita's eyes as she looked into his own, +and answered: "Riego, it is more than dishonest +in Lorente to accept the blessings +which America affords him and not be true +to her. It is worse than traitorous in him +to help spoil the peace of the country which +is his refuge from oppression. If Alonzo Lorente +likes the old way better than the new, +he should go back to the old country. If he +honestly wishes to change what he finds here, +and thinks he can better things, he has one +man's just share in deciding, for he is a naturalized +citizen and can vote on any question.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +But Alonzo Lorente <i>should speak out +openly or else keep silent</i>!"</p> + +<p>Before Riego left that afternoon Miss Arden +had him repeat with her:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>But little Riego did not dream in how short +a time would his loyalty to his new country +be tested. One afternoon—his father was +still lying unconscious—Riego was tending +the shop alone, for Pascual had crossed the +Rio Grande in the early morning and had not +yet returned.</p> + +<p>It was a dull, dull afternoon, for no patrons +came, and the visitors merely glanced in and +passed on. It was hot and still, so the sleepy +Riego decided to rest. He found a cool spot +behind a pile of boxes, and lay down and +closed his eyes.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>When Riego opened his eyes again it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +with a start. There were voices—smothered +voices—some men were in the shop! Riego +lay still and listened.</p> + +<p>"We will attack the gringo camp to-night—just +before dawn," a smothered voice was +saying. "Alva has three hundred men and +more. They can easily surprise and destroy +these eighty Americans, and so can seize their +horses and ammunition."</p> + +<p>"But the patrol?" It was Pascual's voice +that whispered the question. Riego's heart +turned sick. He recognized the voice of Lorente +in the terrifying reply:</p> + +<p>"Pacheco and a picked few will knife the +patrol at the ford, then Alva's men will cross, +and approach the camp up the ravine."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning?" Pascual's voice +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, just before dawn."</p> + +<p>There were approaching steps on the street.</p> + +<p>A customer entered. Riego heard Lorente +departing—heard the customer inquire the +price of a saddle, and go out.</p> + +<p>It must be done <i>now</i>—now while Pascual + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +was alone, and he could speak to him! The +next moment Riego stood before his brother.</p> + +<p>"I heard you!" he cried. "Pascual, they +<i>must not</i>!"</p> + +<p>But Pascual laid a fierce hand upon his +breast and pinned him to the wall.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible scene—that which followed—terrible +in the tense quiet of its enactment—terrible +in its outcome!</p> + +<p>With Riego pinned against the wall where +he needs must listen, Pascual poured forth +such a torrent of abuse, of falsehood, against +the "gringos" that at length the old hate +blood leapt in the younger boy's veins and +went beating through his brain.</p> + +<p>The gringos were their enemies—<i>enemies</i>! +The men who were coming down upon them +with the dawn were of their own blood, of +their native country! What if the invaders +<i>were</i> "revolutionists"? Were they not <i>Mexican</i>? +Talk of "loyalty"—one must be loyal +to <i>one's own</i>!</p> + +<p>When Pascual loosed his grip upon the slight +form it was after he had stirred to the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +dregs all that was passionate, all that was +ignorant and prejudiced and violent, in the +boy's nature.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Riego did not report at +Miss Arden's class, but long after class hour +he was obliged to pass her house on the mission +to deliver a mended harness to a farmer +living near the American camp.</p> + +<p>Miss Arden and her mother, Riego knew, +were the only members of the big captain's +family. They lived in a large house in the +woods, half-way between the town and the +camp. He knew also that the big captain +stayed in camp.</p> + +<p>As Riego emerged from the long stretch of +lonely woods which separated Miss Arden's +house from the town, and as he faced the +other long stretch of woods which lay between +him and the camp, the boy was struck +by the isolation of the señorita's home.</p> + +<p>He reflected, however, that Alva's men +were to attack the gringo soldiers by way of +the ford, and that the ford lay to the right +yonder, far out of connection with the captain's + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +house. He was glad—glad that Alva's +men would not come that way!</p> + +<p>Suddenly he spied the señorita herself. +She was standing on the steps of her father's +home. Riego's heart bounded within him at +sight of her. He pulled down his hat and +hoped to pass unrecognized, but the sweet, +familiar voice called:</p> + +<p>"Riego!"</p> + +<p>He did not answer.</p> + +<p>Then she ran down the steps to him, and +put her gentle hands upon him, turning him +to her against his will.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Riego?" she asked.</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"You didn't come to class this afternoon."</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," she said, after a moment of +silence in which she looked searchingly into +his face, "because we had an interesting lesson +to-day. It was all about what one ought +to do in case one should be forced to <i>choose +between</i> the old land and the new."</p> + +<p>The boy gave a swift, upward glance at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +her, then dropped his eyes to the ground +again. Miss Arden continued, and her voice +was very serious now:</p> + +<p>"And we decided, Riego, that one ought to +think out carefully which country was really +the better, and be true to that, because there +is a higher duty than that to party or country, +and that is—to the principles of justice +and freedom."</p> + +<p>Riego's head sank lower. The Beautiful +One took one of his brown hands into her +own.</p> + +<p>"And we said"—was she looking into the +dark heart of him?—"that whichever way +one chose, one should choose <i>openly</i>. Now +this little brown hand could never——"</p> + +<p>But the little brown hand was snatched +away, and with a great sob the child fled into +the woods.</p> + +<p>When at last that night Riego did fall +asleep he dreamed that his beautiful America +came to him with her white arms held out in +appeal, and that he slipped a dagger out of +his bosom and stabbed her to the heart.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> + He started, awake, and sat up. It was black +dark.</p> + +<p><i>Had Alva struck already? Or was there yet +time?</i></p> + +<p>Ten feet away was Pascual's cot—he must +not wake Pascual! As still as death he +slipped out of his bed, pulled on his overalls +that he had hung near, and crept out into the +moonless night.</p> + +<p>Riego could not think—it was all so desperate! +He could only respond to the heart +that was in him, and creep forward through +the dark. But his feet knew the road that +he took, though his brain was reeling. He +was going straight to the one who had wakened +the new loyalty in him—his beautiful +America!</p> + +<p>"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the +republic for which it stands," went surging +through him as he struggled on.</p> + +<p>Riego was not grandly heroic; he was only +a frightened little boy, but determined now +to do his loyal best for the country that had +sheltered him from oppression. And so,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +though the treacherous sands might seek to +drag him down, though the dark chaparral +yonder might hide—any fearsome thing!—Riego +went forward.</p> + +<p>And now the house of the big captain +loomed black before him. Riego stole up +the front steps. He knew behind which of +the long, closed windows the señorita slept, +and he approached and tapped fearfully +upon it.</p> + +<p>It was a frightened voice that called: "Who +is <i>that</i>?"</p> + +<p>Riego was not conscious how he answered, +but he knew that a wave of relief flowed over +him when the blind of the long window +opened and he was drawn into the dark room +by a pair of familiar hands.</p> + +<p>The blind was closed after him and a light +was struck.</p> + +<p>The señorita's eyes were disclosed big and +startled; her face was as white as the long +robe she wore.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> it, Riego?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"They are coming!" he whispered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> + "Who?" she exclaimed, catching him by +the shoulders, "<i>Who?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Alva," the boy answered, "and three +hundred with him. They are going to surprise—our +soldiers—and kill them while they +sleep!"</p> + +<p>The señorita sprang to the telephone. She +pulled down the lever many, many times, +then she staggered back against the wall.</p> + +<p>"They have cut the wires!" she cried. +"Riego, you and I must take the warning!"</p> + +<p>"To the camp?" the boy cried in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there's no one within a mile of here +that could take it but us!"</p> + +<p>"But the Mexicans have spies over there," +the boy moaned. "They will find us in the +dark with their knives!"</p> + +<p>She had flung on a long cloak, and was +hurriedly fastening her shoes.</p> + +<p>"Then you stay here and I'll go," she +said.</p> + +<p>"<i>You?</i>" cried the startled child—then—"It + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +is dark out there, my lady; I'll go with +you."</p> + +<p>They extinguished the light and stole out +together to the stable, but the horses were +gone!</p> + +<p>Desperate now, they started out afoot.</p> + +<p>The treacherous sand again and the black +dark! But they crept along together. Then +suddenly the boy's courage gave way and he +clung to the cloaked figure, sobbing:</p> + +<p>"Señorita! Señorita! I am <i>afraid</i>!"</p> + +<p>The señorita was trembling, too, and her +voice broke as she whispered:</p> + +<p>"You and I don't make very good heroes, +do we?"</p> + +<p>They had come to a standstill and were +clinging together in the dark. Suddenly there +was a sound of something approaching—-the +velvet tread of an unshod pony in the sand!</p> + +<p>The rider passed.</p> + +<p>When they breathed again the señorita took +him strongly by the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Riego," she whispered—and there was no +break in her voice now—"we must separate. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +One of us must go straight to the ford and +warn the patrol, the other to camp."</p> + +<p>"But it is near the ford that Pacheco is +hiding," the boy replied.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the ford," she said simply.</p> + +<p>"No, my lady, <i>I</i> go—you take the news to +camp." And before she could detain him +the boy turned at a sharp angle and plunged +into the deeper blackness of the chaparral.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>A long nightmare intervened between their +parting and the time when the half-dead boy +clung to the saddle of the patrol and whispered +to him:</p> + +<p>"Keep to the open, señor; there are men +with knives in the chaparral! Help is coming!"</p> + +<p>Then, somehow, everything was blotted +out for Riego.</p> + +<p>When consciousness came again to the boy, +the cool air of the dawn was choked with +dust clouds till he could not see ten feet before +him and his ears were nearly bursting with +the thunder-beat of frantic hoofs. Dim horses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +were rearing and plunging against the reddening +dawn. There were shouts and cries and +firing! Firing!</p> + +<p>Who was losing? Who was <i>winning</i>?</p> + +<p>Dear God, Alva's men were sweeping back +across the Rio Grande!</p> + +<p>One little frightened boy had saved the +day for the country that had given him +refuge from oppression.</p> + +<p>But what was that? A call for help? +<i>Whose voice was that?</i></p> + +<p>Riego plunged into the thick of the dust +cloud toward the cry, and dropped by Pascual's +side. How could he have known that +his brother would ride that night with the +invaders!</p> + +<p>But Pascual was striving to speak. Riego +leaned over him and caught the whisper:</p> + +<p>"Lorente shot me down to get my horse +and escape!"</p> + +<p>And now the gringos were circling round +the wounded one—they would beat out his +brains with their guns! But—but—why, +they were lifting him up, and <i>tenderly</i>! The + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +Americans were lifting up his wounded +brother!</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>Many and bewildering were the things +which happened to Riego in the next few +hours. First, he and the all-but-dead Pascual +were carried by the soldiers to the American +camp. Then his brother was taken away from +him and borne into a closed tent.</p> + +<p>The soldiers gathered around Riego and +patted him on the shoulder. They gave him +many things—things to eat and coins and +pocket-knives and tobacco-tags, all the while +challenging him to smile—he whose captured +brother was yonder!</p> + +<p>Later the big captain sent for him and took +him by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Riego Yañez," he said, "I am proud to +shake hands with an American hero!"</p> + +<p>At length a tall soldier came to Riego and +led him to the closed tent. But the tall +soldier did not enter; he merely pushed the +boy inside the tent and dropped the khaki +flap.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> + Riego blinked his eyes. Somebody was +lying stretched out on a cot, and somebody +was fanning him—the Beautiful One and his +brother! Riego crept toward her suddenly +outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>Then he leaned over Pascual. But Pascual's +eyes were closed and on his face was a +yellow pallor.</p> + +<p>"The surgeon has taken out the ball," +whispered the Beautiful One. "He will live, +with good nursing, and I am on the job." +She paused a moment, then asked, as she +looked into his face with concern: "Aren't +you happy, you tragic little soldier? Why +don't you smile at the good news?"</p> + +<p>"How—" began the child—and a strange, +sick feeling swept over him—"how long before +he will be well enough to be stood against +a wall—and——"</p> + +<p>"Why, you poor child!"—and the big tears +sprang to the señorita's eyes—"your brother +will not be stood against a wall and shot for +treason—never—<i>never</i>! And he's not going +to be shut up in prison, either!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0120a-illus.jpg" id="p0120a-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0120a-illus.jpg" width="500" height="761" alt="A hero congratulated" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">"Riego Yañez," he said. "I am proud to shake hands with an +American hero!"</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> + "But why, señorita? Why? The big captain +knows that he was with Alva's men."</p> + +<p>"He is young—just a boy," and the señorita +laid a tender hand upon the head of the +wounded lad. "He is the son of good parents +and brother to—— Oh, you tragic little soldier, +can't you guess who it is has saved your +brother?"</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i>, señorita?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Yourself</i>, Riego. Because you have been +heroically loyal they are to give your brother +another chance. We Americans, Riego"—and +her white hand closed upon his own to include +him with her—"we Americans are going +to nurse Pascual back to a better life and +teach him how to be free!"</p> + +<p>The sick lad stirred on his cot.</p> + +<p>When the Beautiful One leaned over him +in quick solicitude, he smiled.</p> + + +<hr /> +<h2>The Scribner Series of School Reading</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>A Uniform Series for Supplementary Reading in +Schools. Each, 12mo, <i>net</i>, *$0.50.</p> + +<p>Hero Tales Told in School. By <span class="smcap">James +Baldwin</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other +Heroes of the Myth. By <span class="smcap">Mary E. Burt</span> and +<span class="smcap">Zenaide Ragezin</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Odysseus: The Hero of Ithaca. By <span class="smcap">Mary +E. Burt</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The Boy General. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">George A. Custer</span> +and <span class="smcap">Mary E. Burt</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Don Quixote De La Mancha. By <span class="smcap">Miguel +de Cervantes</span>. From the translations of Duffield +and Shelton. By <span class="smcap">Mary E. Burt</span> and <span class="smcap">Lucy +Leffingwell Cable</span>.</p> + +<p>The Cable Story Book. Selections for School +Reading. By <span class="smcap">George W. Cable</span>. Edited by <span class="smcap">Mary +E. Burt</span> and <span class="smcap">Lucy L. Cable</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The Hoosier School Boy. By <span class="smcap">Edward +Eggleston</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and +Letters for School Reading. By <span class="smcap">Eugene Field</span>. +Edited by <span class="smcap">Mary E. Burt</span> and <span class="smcap">Mary L. Cable</span>. +With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">George W. Cable</span>. +Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The Howells Story Book. By <span class="smcap">William Dean +Howells</span>. Selected and arranged by <span class="smcap">Mary E. Burt</span>. +Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Miss Howells</span>.</p> + +<p>The Lanier Book. Selections for School Reading. +By <span class="smcap">Sidney Lanier</span>. Edited and arranged By <span class="smcap">Mary +E. Burt</span>, in co-operation with Mrs. <span class="smcap">Lanier</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The Page Story Book. Selections for School +Reading by <span class="smcap">Thomas Nelson Page</span>. Edited by +<span class="smcap">Frank E. Spalding</span> and <span class="smcap">Catherine T. Bryce</span>.</p> + +<p>Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen by +<span class="smcap">Brander Matthews</span>.</p> + +<p>Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. +By <span class="smcap">Howard Pyle</span>. Illustrated by the Author.</p> + +<p>The Roosevelt Book. Selections from the +writings of Theodore Roosevelt, with an introduction +by <span class="smcap">Robert Bridges</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>A Child's Garden of Verses. By <span class="smcap">Robert +Louis Stevenson</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Krag and Johnny Bear. Being the Personal +Histories of Krag, Randy, Johnny Bear, and Chink. +By <span class="smcap">Ernest Thompson Seton</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Lobo, Rag, and Vixen. Selections from "Wild +Animals I Have Known." By <span class="smcap">Ernest Thompson +Seton</span>. With 4 full-page and many other illustrations +from drawings by the Author.</p> + +<p>Twelve Naval Captains. With portraits. By +<span class="smcap">Molly Elliott Seawell</span>.</p> + +<p>Fanciful Tales. By <span class="smcap">Frank R. Stockton</span>. Edited +by <span class="smcap">Julia E. Langworthy</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Around the World in the Sloop Spray. +By Captain <span class="smcap">Joshua Slocum</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The van Dyke Book. Selections for School +Reading. By <span class="smcap">Henry van Dyke</span>. Edited and arranged +by Professor <span class="smcap">Edwin Mims</span>, with Biographical +Sketch by <span class="smcap">Miss van Dyke</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>Children's Stories of American Literature, +1660-1860. By <span class="smcap">Henrietta Christian Wright</span>.</p> + +<p>Children's Stories of American Literature, +1860-1896. By <span class="smcap">Henrietta Christian Wright</span>.</p> + +<p>Children's Stories in American History. +By <span class="smcap">Henrietta Christian Wright</span>.</p> + +<p>Children's Stories in American Progress. +By <span class="smcap">Henrietta Christian Wright</span>.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<div class="tn"> +<h4>Transcriber's Note</h4> +<ul class="corrections"> +<li>Punctuation errors have been corrected.</li> +</ul> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of America First, by Frances Nimmo Greene + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICA FIRST *** + +***** This file should be named 36726-h.htm or 36726-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/2/36726/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: America First + +Author: Frances Nimmo Greene + +Illustrator: T. de Thulstrup + +Release Date: July 14, 2011 [EBook #36726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICA FIRST *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Archives and Special +Collections, University Libraries, Ball State University +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + AMERICA FIRST + +[Illustration: "I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the +tenderfoot, "but this is--different." And he added in his heart: "This +is for _my country_." [_Page 23._]] + + + + + AMERICA FIRST + + BY + FRANCES NIMMO GREENE + + ILLUSTRATED BY + T. DE THULSTRUP + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON + + COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + TO MY MOTHER'S NAMESAKE + AND MY OWN + VIRGINIA OWEN GREENE AND + FRANCES NIMMO GREENE + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + CALLED TO THE COLORS 1 + + UNDER THE FLAG 53 + + AMERICA FIRST 89 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the tenderfoot, + "but this is--different." And he added + in his heart: "This is for _my country_" _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE + + A man was sitting over some sort of instrument 36 + + "You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under + the flag!" 86 + + "Riego Yanez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands + with an American hero!" 120 + + + + +CALLED TO THE COLORS + + +This is the story of a "tenderfoot"--of a pink-cheeked, petted lad, +and of his first service as a Boy Scout. + +Danny Harding was what his mother's friends termed "wonderfully +fortunate," but Danny himself took quite another view of his life's +circumstances as he hurried home from school one afternoon, an hour +before the regular time for dismissal. + +The day was golden with sunshine, but the boy's spirit was dark. There +was singing in the air and singing in the tree tops, but in the heart +which pounded against his immaculate jacket were silent rage and +despair. + +The Whippoorwill Patrol had been called to the colors, and he the +untried, the untested tenderfoot would have to remain at home in +luxurious security, while the huskier, browner, less-sheltered lads +answered their country's call. It was beyond the power of a boy's +heart to endure--the mortification--the wild despair of it! They would +call him a slacker, a _coward_! But, worse still, his country needed +him, and he could not answer! + +Danny brushed away the tears which threatened to blind him, and +stumbled on. + +The call had come through a telegram from the Scout Master to the boys +while they were yet at school, and the teacher had promptly dismissed +them to service. The Whippoorwills were to leave immediately upon an +expedition to the mountains, but just what duty they were called to +perform was not stated in the brief message. All they knew was that +they were to leave at once for a certain distant mountain-top, there +pitch tents and await orders for serious service. + +On receipt of the news the other boys had rushed off noisily with +eager joy to don their khaki uniforms and make ready, but Danny had +slipped down a by-street--a wounded, a hurt thing, trying to hide his +anguish away from mortal sight. He would not be allowed to go--he +knew it--for he was the only son of a widowed mother who loved him all +too well. He was her all, her idol, and her days had been spent in +pampering and shielding him. + +Only a week before, the scouts had gone on a hike together and she had +refused absolutely to allow Danny to accompany them--the sun would be +too hot, he might get poisoned with wild ivy, he would be sure to +imbibe fever germs from the mountain spring! + +No, thought the miserable boy, she would be doubly fearful, doubly +unwilling, now that the Whippoorwills were to do serious scout duty on +Death Head Mountain. + +Danny's soul raged against his soft fate as he stumbled up the side +steps of his handsome home and entered his mother's presence. + +He did not fly to her arms as he was wont to do, but, instead, flung +himself into the first convenient chair with a frown. He could not +trust himself to speak. + +But even in that moment of stress Danny realized that his mother had +not hurried to him for the usual kiss. She was struggling with some +sort of bundle, and she only looked up with a quick smile. + +The next instant, however, the smile of welcome died out of her face, +and she stopped suddenly and regarded him with a startled question in +her eyes. + +Danny frowned more darkly, and moved uneasily under her searching +gaze. He looked away in a vain attempt to hide the tears which had +sprung to his eyes. + +And then came the unexpected: + +"Danny," said his mother, in a voice that sounded new to him, "I +received a long-distance phone message from the Scout Master, and--he +said he had wired to the school----" + +She paused a moment, and then asked: "Didn't you get the message?" + +"Yes," said the boy doggedly. + +There was a pause, and then his mother deliberately put down the +bundle she had been working with, and approached. She came and stood +before him, with her back to the table as if for support. Danny did +not look up into her face, though he saw her white, jewelled hands +grasping the edge of the table, and they were strained and tense. + +"My son," she said, "what is the matter with you?" + +He was too full to answer. + +"Danny," she began again presently and in that new voice, "you won't +_do_ this way--you _will not_!" And then suddenly a white, jewelled +hand was struck fiercely upon the table, and the new voice exclaimed +passionately: + +"Daniel Harding, if you sit around and cry like a baby when you are +called to the service of your country, I'll--I'll _disown_ you, sir!" + +"Mother!" And Danny sprang to her arms. + +There were a few moments of sobbing, laughing confession from Danny, +and then his mother explained to him her unexpected change of attitude +toward scouting. Danger?--yes, of course she knew that this might +involve danger to him, but this call was for no frolic--it was to the +service of his country! He _was_ her all, everything in the world to +her, but the one thing which she could not, would not bear would be to +see him turn "slacker" and coward when other mothers' boys--not ten +years older than Danny--were already on the firing-line in France! + +"Our part in this war is the old fight of '76, Danny"--she said to +him--"_nothing less than that_! The Colonists fought to win +independence for America. We are fighting now to save that +independence won. And if it takes every man in America--every boy in +America--if it takes _you_, Danny--there is just one answer for an +American to give." + +And then the two of them hurriedly finished tying up the bundle she +had put aside. It was his kit for the expedition! + +It was a newer, bigger ideal of patriotism which Danny Harding took +with him into his service on Death Head Mountain. His mother, who +loved him all too well, had yet sent him from her with nothing short +of her positive orders to do his duty like a man. + + * * * * * + +The Whippoorwill Patrol had answered the call to service, and the +growing dusk found its members arranging their camp for a night's +bivouac in a lonely stretch of woods "somewhere" on the crest of the +Blue Ridge Mountains. + +The Scout Master had not come, but his orders had, and the +Whippoorwills were busily engaged in executing them. + +"Camp in Mica Cove, conceal your fires, and wait for me," the Scout +Master had telegraphed. "You are called to service." + +So here they were in Mica Cove, hardily preparing for whatever service +to their country it might be theirs to perform, and excitedly guessing +at what ominous circumstance had necessitated their sudden calling out. + +Of course, everybody knew that old "Death Head" must have come into +some added evil repute, and would have to be taken in hand. And that +they would shortly be scouting over all its lonely trails nobody had +any doubt whatever. + +There were eight of them, for the whole patrol was present. Youngest +and happiest of them all was the pink-cheeked, petted tenderfoot, +Danny Harding. He was no "slacker," no "coward"! He was here with the +others to play a manly part in serving his country, and his mother had +sent him from her with a smile! + +Besides Danny, there were in the ranks L. C. Whitman, nicknamed "Elsie," +Ham and Roger Gayle, Alex Batre, Ed Rowell, and Biddie Burton--as husky +and jolly a bunch as could well be got together. All these were older +than Danny, and, as all were more or less seasoned to scouting, they +were quite disposed to have their fun out of the new recruit. + +Danny took their teasing in good spirit, however, for he felt that it +was part of his initiation into their envied circle. They were big +boys--brown like the woods of which they had become a part, +panther-footed, eagle-eyed, efficient. Danny felt that he would be +willing to suffer much to become as they. + +The tenderfoot watched them all to see just how a scout was supposed +to act, but it was to Willard McKenzie, the resourceful leader of the +patrol, that his eyes turned oftenest in frank admiration. + +McKenzie was the oldest of the bunch--quite seventeen--and five years +of scouting had stamped him a man as Nature meant him to be. He knew +and could answer every bird-call, could follow a wood-trail +unerringly, could find himself in any emergency by the chart of the +stars above him. He was the trusted friend of every wild thing about +him, and brother to every wind that blew. The tenderfoot watched the +graceful movements of the leader's Indianlike figure, studied his +genius for quiet command, and decided promptly to be, one day, a +second Willard McKenzie. + +In obedience to McKenzie's orders, the boys built their camp-fire +within the cove, where it would be hidden on three sides by peaks +which towered above, and on the fourth by a dense thicket. + +Mr. Gordon, the Scout Master, had not come, nor did they know when to +expect him. But they knew enough to obey their leader, and this they +were proceeding to do. + +It was a simple matter--getting the camp ready--and the boys +thoroughly enjoyed it. As they were to sleep on the ground, rolled in +their blankets, they had merely to clear the space about them of +underbrush and fallen timber, and build the fire for cooking. + +Of course they talked of war as they worked, for they were scouts in +khaki, preparing for action. + +Ed Rowell claimed for cousin one of the American engineers who fought +their way out of German captivity with their bare fists. Batre's older +brother was right then cleaving his winged way through clouds of +battle in the service of the La Fayette Escadrille. Whitman knew a man +who knew a man who was in the 167th Infantry Regiment when it made +with others that now historic march, knee-deep in French snows. + +Danny said nothing, for he was a quiet, thoughtful lad. But he had +vividly in mind a handsome fellow of only eighteen who, until +America's declaration of war, had Sunday after Sunday carried the +golden cross up the aisle of the little Church of the Holy Innocents +to "Onward, Christian Soldiers." Danny had heard his mother say that +it was that song which had sent the young crucifer bearing the Red +Cross of Mercy right up to the German guns. + +But their talk was not all serious. They were brimming over with life, +and they laughed and scrapped and worked together with a zest which +made even bramble-cutting enjoyable. + +It was when the big fire was glowing red and they set about preparing +their evening meal that the best part of the fun began. Whoever has +not broiled great slices of bacon or toasted cold biscuits on +sharpened sticks before a cheery camp-fire, who has not roasted sweet +potatoes and green corn in glowing ashes, who has not inhaled the +aroma from an old tin coffee-pot, spitting and sputtering on a hot +rock, should join the Boy Scouts and hike back to the heart of nature. + +Oh, but it was fun! All except the holding in check of savage +appetites till the mess should be cooked. Ed Rowell had been detailed +to toast the biscuits, and repeatedly threatened to "eat 'em alive" if +they didn't brown faster. + +Danny, who, with Alex Batre, had been directed to broil the bacon, +couldn't for the life of him keep from pinching off a crisp edge now +and then to nibble. And yet only yesterday Danny Harding would have +turned up his nose at bacon. The stimulating fresh air and the hard +work of camp life had begun to get in their good work on him. + +On the other side of the fire from Danny, Ham and Roger Gayle were +roasting corn and sweet potatoes in the ashes, and a little beyond, +Elsie Whitman was filling the water-cans from a trickling mountain +spring--while Biddie Burton was busily engaged in getting under +everybody else's feet and teasing whomever he could. + +McKenzie, their leader, was momentarily absent, having gone down to +the road below the cliff on which they were encamped to see if their +fire could be sighted from that point through the screening thicket. + +The boys had from the first been instructed by McKenzie to keep their +voices lowered. They were there for serious service, he had told them. +And the necessity for stealth and the promise of adventure had for a +time keyed them up to the highest pitch of excitement. + +But when the interest of cooking supper became uppermost--especially +when the scent of the bacon and coffee began to fill the air--thoughts +of adventure withdrew a little to a distance and whispered merriment +became the order of the hour. + +As was natural, they turned on the tenderfoot their battery of +teasing, and the tenderfoot bore it as best he could. + +"Its mother washes 'em," averred Biddie Burton, coming up behind Danny +and carefully examining his ears as he knelt at his work. + +"Sure she does," laughed Ham across the fire, "and they say that a sore +tooth in its little mouth aches everybody in the family connection." + +"Look out there, something's burning!" broke in Ed Rowell suddenly. +And the next moment Ham and Roger were busy rescuing from the fire the +scorching potatoes. + +"I declare," scolded Biddie, lounging up, "I could beat you fellows +cooking, with both hands tied behind me." + +"Why haven't you ever done it, then?" snapped the elder Gayle, sore +over his partial failure. + +"Why, nobody has ever tied my hands behind me," came in seemingly hurt +explanation from Biddie, and the crowd laughed. + +McKenzie had directed them not to wait for him, and they did not. +Another five minutes found them eating like young wolves around a +languishing fire. + +Later, when the fire winked lower, and the meal was finished--when the +screech-owls began to send their blood-chilling, shivering screams +through the forest--they drew closer together and began to talk of +weird and haunting things. + +"Over yonder, on the real 'Death Head,'" began Roger, bringing the +interest down to the spot, "is the haunted tree where----" + +"Look out," broke in young Rowell, "a little more of that and friend +Danny over here will cut for home and mother." + +"I'll do nothing of the kind; I'm not a baby!" exclaimed Danny +indignantly. But all the same, his heart was already in his mouth, for +Danny had never been distinguished for signal bravery. + +"No, you are not 'a baby,'" put in the unquenchable Biddie, "but +before we get out of these woods you are going to wish you _were_ a +baby, and a _girl_ baby at that!" + +Danny did not reply to this. He only sat very still, wishing that +Willard McKenzie would return from his prolonged trip, and thinking +of the mother who was looking to him to play the man. + +The scene lost its glow. The surrounding forest grew darker, taller, +and began stealing up closer about them. + +"If you cry like a baby--!" Danny's mother was whispering to his +sinking heart. + +The others had fallen into an argument about the exact location of the +haunted tree, but presently Ed Rowell asked impatiently: + +"Well, what is it about the place, anyway?" + +"Haunted!" exclaimed Ham. "A murderer, hunted with dogs through the +mountains, hanged himself on----" + +"And the old tree died in the night," assisted his brother. "And it +stands there now, naked and stark and dead. At night----" + +Danny's heart stood still to hear. + +"At night," broke in Whitman, "if you creep up close, you can see the +dead man swinging in the wind!" + +"_Listen!_" exclaimed Biddie under his breath. + +It will have to be recorded that they all jumped violently at the +exclamation. + +"What?" demanded L. C. + +"And hear old Danny being quiet!" finished the teasing scamp. + +"You bet you, and he'd better be quiet--" began Roger. + +But Whitman interrupted: + +"Danny's afraid of ghosts, anyway," he declared, "I tried to leave him +in the graveyard once, but he was home in his mama's lap before I +started running." + +"I'm not any more afraid of ghosts than you are," Danny protested hotly. + +"Oh, _aren't_ you?" + +"No, I'm not!" + +"All right, then," the big boy taunted; "I've been to the haunted tree +by myself at night--these fellows all know I have--now suppose _you_ go." + +"Sure, tenderfoot," put in young Rowell; "here's a perfectly good +chance to show your nerve." + +"He hasn't any," sneered Alex Batre. + +But Danny drew back, aghast at the proposition--go alone to a spot +like that, and at night! + +"Go to it, kid," was suddenly spoken quietly in his ear. + +Danny turned to see whose was the kindly voice that advised, and +looked into Biddie Burton's eyes. + +"Don't let 'em make you take a dare," came in another whisper. "_Go._" +Biddie was not smiling now, and there was a note of serious +friendliness in his voice. + +It suddenly came to Danny that he would give more to merit that new +confidence on Biddie's part than to break down the taunts of the others. +And yet he could not. He could no more command his shaking nerves to +carry him to that unhallowed, ghostly spot than he could command the +unwilling nerves of another. His will-power had deserted him. + +"I _dare_ you to go!" badgered L. C. + +Danny's spirit flamed for one brief moment. But in the very next his +head dropped, and he turned away. + +"This is going too far," the wretched little fellow heard Biddie +Burton exclaim sharply. + +"What is 'going too far'?" a new voice asked out of the darkness, and +Willard McKenzie advanced into the group. "What is 'going too far'?" he +repeated, glancing from one to another. No answer being volunteered, his +keen glance quickly singled out the shamed tenderfoot. + +"What have they been up to, Danny?" he asked. + +Danny turned and faced him. + +"Nothing that makes any difference," he said. + +It was generous in him not to "peach," and so Biddie Burton's friendly +glance assured him. + +The incident passed with that, for McKenzie was full of something +repressed, and, seeing it, the boys gathered close about him in eager +questioning--all except Danny. + +All except Danny! His brief career--his career that only an hour ago +had promised so much--had ended, and in disgrace. He had taken a +dare! Nothing would ever matter to him again--Danny told his aching +heart--the boys despised him, all except Biddie Burton, and, somehow, +Biddie's pity was harder to bear than despite. + +"I went to the gap and wired Mr. Gordon," McKenzie was saying now, +"and he told me I could put you to it at once. He's had an accident to +his car and may not get here for some time." + +"What's up?" It was Roger who asked the question. + +"Something serious," answered McKenzie, "but Mr. Gordon didn't say +what. Have you had supper?" + +They replied in concert, eager to receive orders. + +"Well," continued McKenzie, "we've got to cover the mountain here, for +signs of--anything unusual. You'll have to be careful not to run into +trouble yourselves, but you must know your ground. There'll be a good +moon if the clouds break." + +"Glory be!" Danny heard Elsie Whitman breathe in expectant ecstasy, +and he would have given the world to have felt with him that eager +joy. But Danny had taken a dare! + +The others were chattering now, as eager as Whitman to be off on the +trail of adventure. + +McKenzie was giving orders: + +"Whitman, you can take the north trail, and bear down over the +mountain. Ham will strike out down the creek to the left there, and +work around to your territory. There's an old cabin hidden by +scrub-oaks and rocks about a quarter below the bridge there, Ham. Know +it for what it is, but don't you run your long neck into danger." + +In spite of his hurt Danny was getting interested. He crept up on the +outer edge of the group and listened, wide-eyed, as the other boys +eagerly accepted their several commissions. + +"Roger and Ed," their leader was continuing, "bear south till you get +below the drop of the cliff, and then separate and work that +territory between you"--with a sweeping gesture. "Alex and Biddie--let +me see--you two go over the mountain to the right of Elsie--No, +there's the Death Head trail--" He paused a moment in thoughtful +survey of them, and the boys looked at each other apprehensively. Not +one of them was anxious to work the trail of evil name. Suddenly, +however, McKenzie's eyes lighted on Danny Harding, and an inspiration +seemed to come to him. + +"Say," he exclaimed, "I'll give the new recruit a chance at that. Come +here, scout." And he laid a kind hand on Danny's shoulder and drew him +into the circle. + +Somebody on the outskirts of the group laughed. + +"Now you are going to do your first service for your country," +McKenzie said to the tenderfoot; "but whatever you do, be wary, +because----" + +Somebody else laughed, and McKenzie looked about sharply. "What's the +joke?" he asked. + +"Danny's afraid," the mocker explained; "that's where the dead man +swings." + +Biddie strolled forward. "Alex will be enough to work Elsie's right," +he said to McKenzie. "Give me the Death Head trail. You'll need Dan +here about the camp." + +But Danny raised his head quickly. It is true that his face was +dead-white, but his head was up. + +"I'll go to the Death Head," he said to McKenzie. + +The crowd was dumb-struck. + +"But you got white-livered and backed down--" L. C. began, after the +first shock of his surprise. + +"I wouldn't go when you dared me to," said the tenderfoot, "but this +is--different." And he added in his heart: "This is for _my country_." + +"But he _is_ afraid," put in Roger. "Look at him!" + +McKenzie took a long, straight look into Danny's white face and +determined eyes, and then turned to Roger. + +"All the gamer of him," he said, "to go in spite of being +afraid--that's the stuff that Pershing is looking for. And Mr. Gordon +says that a boy who 'isn't afraid of anything' hasn't sense enough to +be trusted with a commission. "Kid," he continued, turning to Danny, +"you find out all that there is to be known about the Death Head +vicinity before you show up in camp again." + +"All right," said Danny. + +There was a gasp of surprise among them at the tenderfoot's final +acceptance of the commission, but not one of them--not even +Biddie--believed that he would be able to carry it through. And the +sensitive, high-strung Danny went out from among them burdened with +the feeling that they did not look for him to succeed. + +McKenzie walked a little way with him--big-brother fashion, with an +arm over his shoulder--and gave him careful directions as to how to +proceed. There would be a moon if the clouds broke, his leader warned +him, and he was to keep to the shadows. + +"I'll be leaving camp myself," said McKenzie, "and will not show up +again for a couple of hours. You will probably get back before the +rest of us, so just roll up in your blanket and lie close under that +ledge yonder--you will be perfectly safe there." A little farther up +the mountain trail and McKenzie paused. + +"Never mind about the dead man, scout," he admonished finally, "but +keep your eye peeled for the live one, and--'the best of luck!'" + +"'The best of luck!'" That was what the men at the front said to a +fellow when he was going over the top of the shielding trench into the +dangerous unknown. + +At the familiar phrase in parting, Danny drew a quick, deep breath. +Yes, he was going "over the top"--and he was going _alone_! + +Then McKenzie slipped quietly back, and Danny started forward up the +long, dark trail alone. The ghost of a moon showed dimly through the +black cloud-rack, now and again, and fitfully relieved the enveloping +darkness. + +Only once did Danny look back. That was when he came to the first turn +in the mountain trail which his leader had carefully explained to him. +Beyond that turn, and it would be good-by to the last cheering, +reassuring gleam of their camp-fire, to the last faint sound of +comforting voices. + +Danny paused and looked back. Only two remained in the bright circle +toward which his rapidly chilling spirit was reaching back. He +recognized at once the tall, slim form of McKenzie, but---- Yes, that +chunky one was Biddie Burton. The two of them were standing close +together, talking earnestly. And now Danny caught, by a sudden leap of +the firelight, the fact that they were looking toward him. Biddie was +nodding. + +It was so bright, so safe back there where they had laughed and +feasted and wrangled together. Then suddenly Danny thought of the +young crucifer in the little Church of the Holy Innocents. + +"Onward, Christian Soldiers!" + +The next moment Danny was groping, feeling his trembling way, but that +way was _onward_. The heart in his breast beat an alarm to every nerve +in his body, but he kept his face toward the dim, dark trail. A lump +rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. He gulped it down, and +crept forward. + +McKenzie had told him that a scout must keep his head. That was the +hardest part. A fellow could force himself to go blindly to a haunted +spot at night, but to think, to plan, to watch as he went----! + +But he was a scout, and a scout must "be prepared." Danny forced +himself to think as he went. He was not following that gruesome trail +in response to Whitman's dare--he was scouting old Death Head in the +service of his country. + +Danny found that he could follow McKenzie's directions better than he +had hoped. Now that his eyes were thoroughly accustomed to the dark, +he could descry the blacker landmarks for which his leader had +prepared him. After the turn in the mountain trail, an abrupt and +jagged cliff ahead beckoned the way. The shadow of the cliff won, +Danny waited for another appearance of the pale, cold moon by the help +of whose light he hoped to locate the three giant pines--his next +objective. From the pines, McKenzie had told him, old Death Head could +be sighted plainly enough, for from that point it was silhouetted, +black and unmistakable, against the sky, and its summit was marked by +the stark, white, blasted tree of evil fame. + +"That's where the dead man swings!" echoed in Danny's memory. And for +a moment it seemed that he _must_ give up and fly back to safety. But +something said: "I'll disown you, sir!" And Danny again turned his +face in the direction of his duty. + +The moon looked out of the drifting clouds. Danny located the three +giant pines in the distance, and for one blessed moment saw a +reasonably clear path, skirting along the mountainside. + +Darkness again! But Danny took the skirting path to the pine giants. + +Once he nearly lost his nerve altogether, for suddenly there was +behind him a sound as if some human foot had stumbled. The tenderfoot +dropped warily to the long grass at one side of the path, and +listened. A long, long time he listened, but not another sound did he +hear. At length he told himself that the step was that of some wild +creature which he had disturbed. + +Then forward again! Creeping, panther-footed. + +Danny reached the pines at last--and sure enough, old Death Head rose +all too plainly before him. He saw, or thought he saw, a tall white +something on its summit. + +In thinking it over afterward, Danny was never quite sure just what +happened between the pines and the haunted tree. He had a vague +recollection of imagining that step behind again, and he recalled at +one point the almost welcome pain of a stubbed toe. But for the rest, +he was too frightened to take it all in. + +By the time the tenderfoot reached the summit of old Death Head and +stood within fifty feet of the haunted tree, he was too frightened to +move, and he almost _expected_ to see the thing which he most feared. +The sky was overcast again, but a dim white something towered before +him--the haunted tree--and--and----! + +But just at that moment the clouds broke, and the full moon, now all +unveiled, flooded the scene with light. + +Naked, stark, ghostly, the blasted pine-tree rose before him. With a +sudden spasm at his heart Danny looked for the swinging dead man. But +if anything unearthly hung from those bare white branches, his mortal +eyes were spared the vision. And presently his awakening reason began +to urge: "There are no such things as 'ghosts.'" + +The next moment the young scout came fully to himself, and withdrew +quickly from the all-revealing flood of moonlight to the friendly +shadow of a low shrub. He began to peer sharply about. The growth +around was ragged, with great spaces between. If there was anything +here that a scout ought to note, the opportunity was ideal. + +He must perform the duty for which he was here! His leader had told +him to know the spot before he showed up in camp again. + +Danny began skirting about in the shadows, getting every angle he +could on the scene, and exploring adjacent wood lanes. It is true that +he kept well away from the haunted tree, but he came back to its +vicinity every now and then. And each time as he came he managed to +force himself to approach it closer. + +Nearer and nearer he got to it, and then, suddenly, he heard issue +from somewhere in its branches a low, sighing moan. Danny thought he +would drop in his tracks, but he did not. Instead, he stood as still +as death and listened. + +That moan again! Every time a gust of wind came, the dim, weird sound +trembled along the night. + +The moon was shining brilliantly now. Danny stood staring at the +haunted tree. + +All at once he crept forward, sharply intent on something. + +What was that straight black line against the sky? Where did it come +from?--that haunted tree? + +Another moment and Danny was at the foot of the ghostly pine-tree, +staring upward at the crisscross of its naked branches. + +There was no swinging dead man there, but there was _something_--at +the top! + +Danny dropped to the ground and retreated a little on all fours for a +better view-point. 'Way up, two parallel black bars rose against the sky. + +A scout must keep his head! + +Now, no boughs of a tree ever grew that straight! And what were those +orderly black lines which extended from one bar to the other? + +That moan again!--or--or was it the sound of a wire, played upon by +the wind? + +Danny shifted his position again. + +Yes, that black line across the sky connected directly with the queer +something in the tree top. + +"_Wireless!_" said the scout's head to him. + +Danny stood up. All childish fear of a swinging ghost had dropped away +from him. He had not the slightest inclination now to cry like a baby +about anything. + +He was a scout on duty! + +Another moment and he was creeping, velvet-footed, through the woods, +following that black line as it led away from the haunted tree. At the +other end of it must be a receiving-station! + +And it was no easy task which his duty set him. Over sharp rocks and +through tangled briers that black line led him on. Sometimes the moon +would desert him and he would lose the clue for a while. Sometimes he +would be forced to abandon his clue to skirt around an insuperable +barrier. But he always came back to it, always pressed on. + +On and on! And then, suddenly, the line disappeared. It ended, or +seemed to end in a large pile of boulders which clung to the +mountainside. The undergrowth was dense here. + +Danny circled about the spot. Yes, the wire stopped here. He began +creeping through the underbrush--feeling his way along the side of a +great boulder. + +Suddenly his hand touched--_nothing_! + +The scout stopped and thought. There was some sort of break in the +rock here. + +Danny had a flashlight in his pocket which he had been too cautious to +use. He thought of it now, and hesitated. Then he slipped it out and +pressed the spring. + +Before him was what seemed the door of a cave. He looked closer. Yes, +the wire led into the cave. Darkness, again, for he was afraid to use +his light any longer. + +Danny dropped to his all-fours and crept into the black hole. A floor +of soft sand helped him to advance noiselessly. After a few yards the +scout reached a turn in the rocky passageway, and---- + +His eye caught a big, black-hooded shadow humped over a point of light! + +Danny withdrew quickly behind the sheltering turn in the wall, and +crouched in the sand, dead-still. But his blood was up. He took a +second look. + +A man was sitting over some sort of instrument, and over his ears were +cups, something like Danny had seen worn by the girl at the telephone +central station. The one point of light in the big dark recess was +turned on a note-book under the man's hand. + +The young scout drew back, and crept silently out of the cavern. + +Out under the stars again, and this time with his blood on fire! A +spy, a German spy sat in that cave and sent messages----! + +Only yesterday a fleet of transports had slipped out of the harbor, +with thousands of American soldiers on board--submarines--sea-raiders! + +But a scout must keep his head. + +Help? Which way could help be found? The boys were scattered, McKenzie +would not be in camp. Nobody knew when to expect Mr. Gordon. + +Which way? Which way? Oh, yes, down over the drop of the cliff to the +south yonder was the mountain wagon road by which their scouting party +had ascended that afternoon. If he could get to the road he could find +somebody somewhere--surely, there were a few inhabitants hereabouts! + +That German was sending wireless messages right this minute---- Yes, +the shortest way to the road was the only way for a fellow to take +now! And Danny took it. + +When he reached the cliff, spent and sore, a new difficulty presented +itself. A sheer fifty-foot drop still separated him from the road. He +crept along the edge searching for a footing by which to descend, and +presently found one that looked possible. There were broken, shelving +places here, and tufts of growing things down the face of the dizzy wall. + +Danny began to climb down. But he found it harder than he had thought, +and at times he was a mere human fly clinging to a rock wall. + +[Illustration: A man was sitting over some sort of instrument.] + +Nearly down--only about fifteen feet more! But at that moment the +human fly's hold crumbled under his clinging fingers, and he dropped. +It ought not to have been a bad fall, but the trouble was a loosened +rock followed, and came down on one arm as its owner lay prostrate on +the ground. + +Danny lay very still for a few moments, looking at the stars and +thinking of--nothing! + +Then presently the sound of human voices came to him from somewhere +out of the night. With an effort he raised up a little to push off the +stone from his arm, but he dropped back again. + +The stars began to swim at that, and the voices to grow fantastic. + +But a scout--must--keep--his head! + +Those voices sounded familiar! Danny summoned all his strength, and +sent the wavering call of a wounded whippoorwill along the night. + +Silence, and then a whippoorwill answered sharply from out the forest. + +Danny called again. + +Shortly after that came low voices and the sound of hurrying feet. +Then Mr. Gordon, the Scout Master, McKenzie, their leader, and jolly +old Biddie Burton were hovering over him. + +"Are you hurt?" they asked in one breath. + +But Danny cried out feverishly: "There's a German spy sending wireless +messages from old Death Head, and our transports have put to sea!" And +he told them, brokenly, the story of his find. + +There was consternation among them for one brief moment, and then +everybody woke to action. + +They must get the man at once--but _which way_ to go? + +Mr. Gordon spoke quickly: + +"You stay with Danny, Burton; McKenzie and I will go back to the Death +Head and follow the clue from there." And even as he spoke he and +McKenzie were hurriedly, but tenderly, binding up the wounded arm, +while Biddie improvised a comforting sling for it. + +But Danny knew that the route by way of old Death Head was long and +circuitous. And he knew also that the shortest way is the only way to +take when one's duty to one's country calls. + +He got to his feet. + +"I'll show you the shortest way," he said. + + * * * * * + +How they found means of scaling the cliff, how they accomplished their +stealthy journey back to the hidden wireless station, piloted by the +wounded tenderfoot whom they supported at every step, is too long a +story to tell. + +But they reached the mouth of the dark cave. The two boys were left +outside, and very shortly thereafter Mr. Gordon and McKenzie brought +out between them a big shadowy figure with its hands bound together. + + * * * * * + +That night, the east-bound passenger was flagged at the little station +in the valley, and there boarded it a squad of boy scouts with their +leaders, who guarded between them a captured German spy. + +"Gordon, how did you manage it?" called a voice, from some distance +down the long coach as they entered. + +For answer, Mr. Gordon took hold of a little boy who wore his left arm +in a sling and, pushing him gently forward, said before that whole car +full of curious, excited people: + +"We had an American on guard to-night." + + * * * * * + +The Probate Judge's office in the old courthouse on the square was, +the next morning, the scene of a most unusual gathering. + +Danny and his mother had been asked by the Scout Master to meet him +there at ten o'clock. Mr. Gordon had sent his request in the form of a +brief note which explained that the Boy Scout Court of Honor was to be +in session that morning, and said that he wished his youngest scout to +be present. + +Danny's mother was strangely elated over the request, but Danny did +not know why. He was so young in the business of scouting that some +details of the system had not yet become definitely his. + +He ventured one surmise when the note was read--something in +connection with the taking of that German spy, of course. Maybe the +Whippoorwills were to be commended for delivering the goods. And +Danny's mind's eye recalled again the stirring scene--McKenzie and Mr. +Gordon marshalling to the station between them the big German whom +they had captured and bound, and he and the other scouts trudging +along in excited escort. It was a wonderful thing to be a man, Danny +thought wistfully--to be big and strong enough to lay a compelling +hand on the enemy in our midst and say: + +"I want you!" + +But it will have to be recorded that Danny's mother acted a little +queerly on receipt of the note. When Danny said that perhaps the +Whippoorwills were to be commended for "delivering the goods," his +mother looked up at him quickly, as if in surprise. Then she laughed a +little and cried a little, and then she dashed off for her hat and +wraps like a girl. + +At ten o'clock sharp, Danny and his mother presented themselves at +Judge Sledge's door. As they paused to knock, a voice came to them +through the closed door--a familiar voice, and it sounded very +earnest. Then the door was opened in response to their knock. + +They hesitated a moment while they took in the quiet, dignified scene +within. Portly old Judge Sledge was sitting well forward in his office +chair with his spectacles pushed back upon his bald head, while Doctor +Cranfield and several gentlemen whom Danny knew only by sight were +grouped about him. All were in the attitude of listening intently to a +man who stood before them--Mr. Gordon. + +Danny's quick glance took in all this, including the background of +khaki-clad Whippoorwills, plastered against the wall beyond. + +The gentlemen rose, on the entrance of Mrs. Harding, and the scouts +crowded forward to whisper excitedly to Danny. + +But Danny did not have time to listen to them, for Doctor +Cranfield--taking him by his good arm--turned him about, and said to +the company: + +"This is the boy." + +There was an agonizing moment to Danny in which he realized that +everybody in the room was looking at him. Then he had to be +introduced. It was very, very trying, for each man to whom Danny gave +his hand in greeting looked him over from head to foot, and made +embarrassingly personal, if kindly, remarks about him. + +"He was a small chap for the job." + +"He ought to be _red-headed_." + +"He was his mother's son." + +Danny looked across the group into his mother's eyes and caught there +an expression which he was never to forget. And she was smiling--in +spite of the tear-mist over her beautiful eyes--she was smiling. + +When they resumed their seats, there returned upon the group the touch +of ceremonial quiet and earnestness which the entrance of the +newcomers had for the moment dispelled. + +Mr. Gordon took a chair behind Mrs. Harding and explained to her and +Danny in a low tone that the session was nearly over. Judge Sledge had +been compelled to convene the court earlier than the appointed hour. + +The other men were talking apart. Presently, one of them turned to the +Scout Master and said: + +"Following what you have just related, Mr. Gordon--do you think that +it was quite wise in your patrol leader to send out a mere tenderfoot +on a really dangerous commission?" + +Mr. Gordon was about to reply, when McKenzie stepped forward and +saluted. "May I answer that?" he asked. + +The court assented, and all turned to hear. + +"Our private advices had been," began McKenzie, with his Indianlike +figure drawn up to its full height, "that it was Camelback Mountain +which was under suspicion. We located our camp on a parallel range, +and miles from the suspected vicinity. Mr. Gordon and I and several of +the older boys were later to take in hand the serious work of +Camelback, but we thought it well to give the others a little +experience. I had not intended to employ the tenderfoot till I +overheard the boys teasing him. I sent him to the Death Head to redeem +himself in his own eyes and in theirs." + +"Please, may I speak?" Biddie Burton had come forward eagerly. + +With the permission of the judge, Biddie hurried on: + +"Without letting the other boys know, McKenzie told me to follow Danny +in case his courage should give out completely. But he gave me my +orders to keep well in the rear. He wanted Dan to go to the haunted +tree by himself, if he would--to win his spurs, you see." + +"Did you follow Harding all the way?" someone interrupted. + +"All the way to the haunted tree? Yes, sir, and he _did_ go! He went +right up to it and circled all about it. Then the earth seemed to open +and swallow him up. I looked and looked for him. Then I ran back for +help. I found McKenzie and Mr. Gordon, and we all three started out +after Dan. You have heard the rest." + +This seemed satisfactory, and the judge turned to Danny. + +"Come here, Daniel," he said, "and tell the court now how you captured +your wireless operator." + +Danny started. + +"I didn't do it, sir," he said in embarrassment. "Mr. Gordon and +Willard McKenzie captured the man. I only showed them where he was." + +The men exchanged glances. + +"Well," said the judge, again, "come here and tell us what you _did do_." + +Danny came forward. + +"Salute!" he heard Biddie whisper. + +Danny saluted. + +"Now," said the judge, "tell these gentlemen here what--what you told +_your mother_ when you got back from the mountains last night." + +Danny looked at his mother. Her eyes were misty again, but she was +nodding to him to do as the judge directed. + +The tenderfoot stood embarrassed before them and told the story +exactly as he had related it to his mother. He didn't like to do this, +for he was very much ashamed of having to tell how frightened he had +been, and how he had had to force himself to go forward. + +The men listened intently. Once in a while one would interrupt to ask +a question. + +When Danny got to the point in his story of his acceptance of +McKenzie's commission to cover old Death Head, a dark-eyed, quiet man +on the judge's right leaned forward. + +"One moment, Harding," he said. "McKenzie told us before you entered +that you were afraid to go when the boys dared you, but that when he +told you to go on the scouting trip, you said, 'this is different.' +What did you mean by its being 'different'?" + +Danny looked up from his nervous fingering of the judge's +paper-weight. + +"I meant that it was for my country," he answered simply. + +The dark-eyed man glanced at the others. + +"_Beat that_," he said in a low tone to them. + +Judge Sledge took down his spectacles from his bald head, adjusted +them on his nose, and looked hard at the boy. + +"Proceed," he commanded, after a moment. + +Danny proceeded. + +"Weren't you afraid to crawl into that cave?" one of them asked in the +course of the story. + +"Yes, sir," said Danny. + +Later, another interrupted with: + +"But if your arm was broken and paining you, why didn't you stay with +Burton, there, and let the others go by the way of Death Head, and +take up the clue you had followed?" + +"Why, you see," answered Danny, "we had to get to the man quickly to +stop his telegraphing. I knew a short route to him." + +"Exactly," said the judge, nodding, then he turned to the men about him. + +"All right, gentlemen?" he asked. + +There was a whispered conference of a few moments, and then, to +Danny's surprise, they all turned to him. + +"Daniel," said the judge, "do you know why this Court of Honor has +been called into session?" + +Danny's glance swept the khaki-clad figures against the wall--he +looked at Mr. Gordon. + +"I hope," he answered to the judge, "that you like what we did." + +"Yes," said the judge, smiling this time, "yes, the Whippoorwills are +quite in our good graces, and we commend the promptness and efficiency +of Mr. Gordon and your leader, McKenzie. However, this court has been +called together to sit in judgment on _your_ part in last night's +performance. Daniel, do you realize that you have done bravely and +well?" + +Danny stood for one moment, stunned by the dawning realization of +what this meant. Then he looked across at his mother. Life holds for a +boy no higher, happier moment than that in which he realizes he has +made his mother proud of him. + +Without waiting for him to reply, the judge was continuing: + +"This court finds, Danny, that in spite of very human, very natural +fears, and at the cost of suffering to yourself, you performed a +service to your country which may be more far-reaching than any of us +dream. And if there is anything braver than the conquering of fear, +anything more manly than the voluntary endurance of pain for a high +cause, or any earthly motive of action higher than one's duty to one's +country, we have never found it. + +"Now, Son, it is not within the power of this, our local court, to +confer upon you what we think you deserve. It is ours, however, to +recommend to the Boy Scout National Court of Honor that you be awarded +the Honor Medal. This we are going to do because we believe you have +saved more than life by your prompt action, and we know that you did it +at the cost of suffering to yourself and at the risk of your own life." + + * * * * * + +When, a few weeks later, the Honor Medal did arrive and was pinned +upon Danny's breast, the young scout found it necessary to take his +little mother in hand. + +"'If you cry like a baby,'" he whispered laughingly but with his arms +about her, "'I'll _disown_ you!'" + + + + +UNDER THE FLAG + + +"_Louise!_" + +The little girl came to a halt suddenly and nearly dropped her +book-satchel. Somebody had called her name--some startling, mysterious +voice had called her! + +She looked hurriedly about, but there was nobody in sight--nobody but +a saucy squirrel perched upon a park bench, and a redbird flitting +along the open between the enclosing hawthorns. + +Which one had called? + +"_Louise!_" + +The little girl started back, too frightened to scream--it was the +hawthorn! + +But the next moment a boyish bullet-head appeared between parted boughs. + +"Come here!" exclaimed its owner in suppressed excitement. "We've got +something to tell you!" + +Down went the book-satchel, but not in fear this time. Billy Hastings +had called--called excitedly--and Billy was known to furnish nearly +all the third-grade thrills there were. So the next moment Louise was +stooping her way under the hawthorn boughs in answer to her +playfellow's summons. + +Billy was not alone in the green grotto in which Louise presently +found herself, for nearly half the third-grade members were there. +There was wide-eyed Tinsie Willis, with her little frilly skirts +bristling with excitement, with Mamie Moore swallowing to keep back +hysterical tears, and Sadie and Lallie Raiford, with their backs to +each other for safe-keeping. And there were boys, a whole mob of boys! + +The children were huddled together in suppressed excitement, and were +whispering all at the same time. It was plain that something terrible, +something menacing, had happened. + +"You know that new boy that came to school this morning--?" began one. + +"That 'Rudolph Kreisler'?" put in another. + +"Sh-h-h!" interrupted a third wildly. + +But Billy Hastings thrust his red, round face close to Louise's and +announced in a blood-curdling whisper: + +"_Rudolph Kreisler is a German spy!_" + +Louise's legs crumpled under her, and she sat down in a heap. + +Again they were all talking at the same time, and this time at her. + +"He's got his trousers' pockets just _full_ of something!" exclaimed +Pete Laslie. + +"And he's watching, _watching_!" put in another. "Didn't you see him +sitting off there by himself looking at us while we played ball?" + +"Spying!" hissed Luke Musgrove over Billy Hastings's shoulder. + +The children started and looked about apprehensively. Luke's words +always carried weight by reason of the fact that he had been two years +in the third grade and ought to know what he was talking about if he +didn't. + +"Yes," chimed in Billy, coming close to Louise again and speaking in +his most dramatic tone. "Just you dare to draw a deep breath, and +he'll tell the Kaiser on you!" + +Louise gasped--a short, a curtailed little gasp. Never till the Great +War should be over would she breathe from her diaphragm again! + +"Oh-o-o-o, _Louise_!" from round-eyed Tinsie Willis. + +"_What?_" + +"You've left your book-satchel out there in the path! Just suppose he +were to come by and see it!" + +There was a moment of consternation, of wild chattering, in which +everybody poked his head out to see, but nobody would venture far +enough to get the incriminating satchel. + +Then Tommie Warren had an inspiration. Snatching a crooked-handle +umbrella from Ella Vaiden, he flung himself flat on the grass and +reached for the tell-tale satchel with the crook. + +"It's a good thing Ella brought that umbrella!" exclaimed Tinsie. And +all looked at Ella, who stood up very straight in spite of the +low-dipping boughs. The next moment Louise had her beloved +book-satchel hugged close to her pounding heart. + +"Sh-h-h!" suddenly came from a self-constituted sentinel. + +"_What?_" + +"_He's coming!_" + +The crowd in the bushes stood tiptoe and breathless as the German spy +came down the hawthorn path. + +He was a small lad--small for the third grade--with big blue eyes and +a shock of tawny hair. The Kaiser had not equipped him very well, for +there was a suggestion of poverty about his mended clothes. But, after +all, maybe those carefully darned places at his knees were only a part +of an adroit disguise. His pockets _were_ bulging, and with +knotty-looking somethings very suggestive of poorly concealed bombs. +He was not whistling, as a perfectly good American would have been, +but walked slowly and with his head down. It was very suspicious! + +He passed. + +"Let's get him now!" suggested Luke. + +"Good!" exclaimed Billy. "Get some rocks!" And instantly all was +excitement, the uncensored noise of which reached the little German +and caused him to take to his heels. + +In the confusion of the next few moments Louise scarcely realized what +they were about. But when they tore out of the bushes, snatching up +rocks as they went, and rushed after their flying prey, her heart +stood still. He was such a _little_ boy! + +With the back of her hand pressed tight against the sobs that would +not be stifled, and with tears raining down her cheeks, the little +girl followed in the wake of the howling mob. + +Then somebody rounded a hawthorn bush and came bang up against her. It +was Jimmie Fisher, a big, red-headed rock of strength, who could carry +lightly the heaviest book-satchels there were. + +"What are you crying about?" he asked, after his first quick survey of +her. + +"They--they are killing Rudolph Kreisler!" sobbed Louise. + +"No," assured Jimmie, "he'll get home free. He lives just across +there. Are these your books?" + + * * * * * + +The next day matters only grew worse. + +The whole atmosphere of the third grade had become electric with +suspicion of a certain little boy who, looking neither to right nor to +left, kept his wistful blue eyes bent on the task before him. When +Rudolph stood up at the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, Luke +growled out that he was "just pretending." And when, from his seat +near the door, the German lad answered the knock of a visitor, Ella +Vaiden whispered audibly: + +"See _that_? He wants to see _who's there_!" + +In recitation Rudolph answered the questions put to him with +despicable German efficiency, but Luke missed with conspicuous +patriotism and went noisily foot. + +But through it all Louise was doing her own thinking. She was a loyal +little citizen and loved her country with all her heart; but there +flowed through her veins the blood of a long line of Americans who +had been just and fair. The little girl was afraid of German +spies--afraid for her country--and Rudolph Kreisler's pockets did +bulge ominously. If Rudolph Kreisler _was_ a German spy, why he would +have to be dealt with, of course. + +But if he wasn't----? + +Louise wished with all her heart that Miss Barclay, the teacher, would +suspect this terrible smothered tragedy that was being enacted within +her class. Of course one's teacher, like one's mother, could solve +every problem; and Miss Barclay in particular could command the storms +of childhood to be still. If only Miss Barclay knew! + +But in third-grade ethics it was "dishonorable" to "tattle," so Louise +was compelled to hold her peace and think fast. There were recesses +ahead in which covertly cruel things might happen, and an after-school +walk through a lonely park from which a real _little_ boy might not +get home free. Something must be done. + +At first recess the boys and girls were, as usual, separated in their +play, but Louise--observing from afar--saw that the little German sat +by himself on the steps, and watched the spirited ball-play of the +others with keen alertness. Yes, it was very suspicious. + +Big recess brought with it an unusual privilege that day. The +third-grade boys and girls were to be allowed to mingle together and +on the front lawn, in order to keep them from under the feet of +certain workmen who were making excavations through the +school-grounds. + +This was all very thrilling, for it was from a tall staff on the front +lawn that their beautiful new flag was floating, and to-day they would +be able to see it close--to touch the pole with their very hands! +Then, too, it would be so remarkable to play with _boys_. + +Louise pondered it all as the third-grade girls filed down to their +lunch-room. Rudolph Kreisler was not there, of course, but Rudolph +would be with them among the other boys at play-time. She would then +be able to watch him narrowly--to keep an eye on those bulging pockets. + +All the other girls were chattering over their lunch, but Louise drank +her milk and ate her sandwich in thoughtful silence. + +Presently a hand was laid upon her heavy curls and she looked up with +a start. The principal was smiling down at her. + +"What are you thinking of, little tragedy queen?" he asked. + +Louise blushed and tried vainly to reply. + +The teacher serving the sandwiches answered the principal. + +"Of 'the impossibility of all things,'" she said with a curious +sidewise smile. + +The principal put his hand under Louise's chin and, tilting her head +back, looked deep into her eyes. + +"You must run and play a great deal," he said, and passed on. + +Then, when the last sandwich had gone the way of all good sandwiches, +they repaired to the front lawn. + +It was all so wonderful--so green and cool and stately-looking. And +there, sure enough, was the great new flag, curling and uncurling in +the fitful wind--'way up against the sky! + +The boys were already out on the green when the little girls were +marched down the steps and disbanded among them to enjoy the most +unusual privilege of joining in their games. Then, all suddenly a +great awkwardness came down upon the girls. How was one to play with +boys at recess? Of course _after school_ it came natural enough to +mingle with them, but this was not "after school"! It was most +embarrassing. + +Louise found herself timid in the chaperoned recess-presence of Jimmie +and Billy and Luke, and began to back away toward the steps. + +"Look out!" shouted Billy suddenly. + +Louise jumped to "look out." Behind her, on the bottom step, sat the +German spy. She had nearly backed into him! + +In the face of danger, embarrassment dropped away. The next moment +Louise had fled back to her countrymen and was listening, excited, to +their eager whispers. + +"Rudolph Kreisler sits by himself--always by himself. Isn't that funny?" + +"Just look at him _now_!" + +"See him watching the flag?" + +"Get that gleam in his eye? Look, quick!" + +"Old rascal! He got home free yesterday--but just you wait!" + +And so they stood apart from him and whispered. + +The German spy dug his toes in the sand a little longer, then rose and +moved a few steps farther up. + +Then Ella Vaiden declared that they were wasting time, and proposed +that they begin a game. + +But nobody knew what to play. + +"I'll tell you!" exclaimed Louise. "Let's play 'Under the Flag.'" + +"What's that?" asked several. + +"Why--why--" began Louise, inventing the game as she proceeded, "it's +this way: you go stand under the flag and look up at it till the wind +blows it out straight--and--and then you make a wish. If the flag +floats wide till you have finished, your wish will come true." + +All were interested at once, and the game began. The fitful, +boisterous wind took an active part and the play became spirited. + +Tinsie Willis was the first to come "under the flag," but she was so +excited she forgot to wish till the broadly floating banner had +wrapped itself about its staff and her opportunity was gone. + +Then everybody began talking at once, and Mamie Moore piped up: "I'm +going to wish for a pair of shiny-bug slippers!" + +Louise was shocked, and quickly explained that when one wished under +the flag it must be for something serious and from the very depths of +one's heart. + +"Sure," supported Jimmie of the red head. "You can wish for shiny-bug +slippers under an umbrella!" + +But Mamie couldn't then think of anything more serious than the need +of gilt slippers, and was promptly ruled out till her imagination +should come to her assistance. + +Several boys took turns next, but they were so noisy and boisterous +that they came near spoiling everything. + +Then Flora Archer took her place. Flora was a thoughtful little girl +who carried around in her eyes a deep, deep something people never +understood. With her lips close to the flagpole, she whispered her +message to it, and all the while the beautiful banner streamed out to +its farthest length. + +Flora came back without speaking, and the children looked at her in +curious silence. But when the others were noisily choosing times +again, Flora slipped her hand into Louise's and whispered: + +"I wished for our soldiers to win in the war, but for them not to be +cruel when they do." + +"Yours, Louise!" exclaimed somebody. + +And before Louise had time to examine the depths of her heart to see +what it was she most desired, a half-dozen pair of friendly hands +pushed her forward. It was no time to hold back--to spoil the game. +Louise mounted the green knoll from which the great flagpole rose. + +But she did not at once look up. Her glance had accidentally lighted +on the lonely figure on the steps, and was resting there for a moment +in startled contemplation. + +He was such a _little_ boy, and he seemed so--apart! But one must make +no mistakes where one's country was involved. _Were_ his blue eyes +"gleaming" with vengeful purpose? Or were they only full--of shining +tears? + +"Look up! Look up!" the children called. + +Louise threw back her head--threw it back so far that the familiar +scene about her became lost to her view and she beheld nothing but the +vision above. Amid the battling tree tops and against a threatening +sky the flag of freedom streamed out in all its rippling glory--red +for the courage of American hearts, white for the purity of purpose +they should harbor, and blue for truth, like that higher, farther +heaven above the gathering clouds. Now rippling, now curling, +wreathing, snapping, and now--straight out, fronting the coming storm! + +"Quick! Quick!" the children shouted, as Old Glory floated free. + +Suddenly the child stretched up her hands. It was not a wish, but a +prayer, that her young heart sent up to her country's flag. + +"Help me to--play fair!" she whispered. + +Louise saw her comrades only mistily when she came down the green +knoll again toward them. + +Then all became babel again. + +"It's my time next!" exclaimed Luke Musgrove, shouldering forward. + +"Who said so?" demanded another. + +"_I_ said so," answered the big boy rudely, and he strode to his place +against the flagpole. "I wish," he began in a loud, strident voice, +and without waiting for the wind to come hurtling across the green, "I +wish _to wring the neck of that German spy_!" + +All eyes were quickly turned from the flag to where a little wide-eyed +boy shrank back in terror against the steps. + +"Glory be!" shouted Billy Hastings. "Teacher's gone in--let's drag +Rudolph under the flag!" + +Instantly the flame of persecution swept them, and they started after +the alien lad. + +But at the foot of the steps somebody blocked the way. Louise Carey +had flung herself between. + +"It's not fair, and you _shan't_!" she cried. + +The astonished mob wavered in indecision. + +"'Not _fair_?'" echoed Luke with a jeer. + +"No," stormed Louise. "We didn't _ask_ him to come under the flag, and +you shan't _make_ him do it!" + +"We'll see about that--" began Luke. + +"_That we will!_" put in Jimmie Fisher, but it was not to Louise that +he spoke. He was talking to Luke, and he planted himself protectingly +in front of Louise and the little German, and faced the third-grade +bully. Never before in her life had Louise realized how beautiful was +a shock of bristling red hair. + +The third-grade bully was growling now, but in a decidedly lower key. + +"Now, then"--Jimmie was speaking to Louise this time--"you are bossing +this game. Say what you want done with that--that--" and he looked at +the frightened Rudolph. + +Louise glanced up at the flag. It was floating now--broad and free +enough to cover all who might come. + +"I am going to _invite_ Rudolph to come under our flag," she said. + +The children gasped as Louise held out her hand to the little alien. + +"Won't you come and be American with us?" she asked kindly. + +The boy drew back a moment while his blue eyes searched her face for +whatever hidden cruelty might lurk beneath its seeming sweetness. Then +he smiled--a timid, but trusting smile--and rising, took her extended +hand. + +But Billy Hastings called jeeringly: "He's a sneak! He's just doing it +to pretend!" + +"He knows I'd drag him if he didn't come!" exclaimed another. + +"Coward! _Coward!_" yelled Luke. "You're afraid to refuse!" + +And then, all suddenly, something in the German lad flamed up. He +snatched his hand from Louise's. He stood to his full height with +blazing eyes, and cried: + +"It's a lie!" + +The sound of the school-bell broke the startled quiet which followed +the alien's spirited revolt. + +"_Please_," pleaded Louise, "don't mind them! You've time yet to come +under the flag." + +But Rudolph stood indignant, immovable. + +"Get to your lines, children," and the principal's call-bell was heard +tapping above on the porch. + +A group of boys came suddenly together into a tight bunch. + +"We'll fix him after school," Louise heard them threaten. And she knew +that Rudolph heard it, too--knew by the sudden whiteness which swept +over his face. + +The next minute the boys and girls were drawn up in parallel lines +ready to march into the schoolhouse. Louise was at the end of her +line and Rudolph Kreisler was the last on the boys' row. They were +opposite each other. + +"Eyes front--march!" came the command, and the lines moved forward +with one impulse. + +"Eyes front!" But to save her life Louise could not help stealing a +sidelong glance at Rudolph. + +To her horror she saw the little alien slip quietly behind a rose-bush +and drop out of sight into the bricked-up area which furnished +window-space for the basement. + +With a flash Louise remembered that those windows communicated +directly with the engine-room, and that the engine-room was directly +under the third grade. + +"Pay attention, Louise," came from the porch, and Louise's startled, +dark eyes were turned to the front again. + +When the children were seated in their room it developed that Miss +Barclay had been temporarily called away, and that a scared-looking +girl from the teacher training-class was in charge of the third grade. + +The new teacher did not miss Rudolph, but the children did, and there +was smothered excitement in consequence. + +Louise, who had not breathed a word of what she knew, sat grasping her +desk with both hands. Rudolph Kreisler had refused to come under the +flag! Of course they had taunted him, but the stark fact remained that +he _had_ refused. And then no human being had ever seen inside those +bulging pockets. Rudolph Kreisler, bulging pockets and all, was in the +engine-room, right under their feet! + +And then a new fear suddenly laid its grip upon her heart. Suppose +that German boy should do something to the flag! She tried to shift +her position so that she could see out of the window, but found it +impossible. + +"Oh-o-o, teacher!" Louise jumped at the sound of excitement in the voice +from behind her, but quieted somewhat when she realized that it was +Tinsie Willis who spoke. "Louise has left her hat on the front lawn!" + +"Louise, go and get your hat," said the substitute, looking all about +the room to see which one of the many little girls might be the one +reported. + +Louise rose from her seat with fear and trembling and left the room. + +But the first glimpse of the out-of-doors dispelled her great new +fear--her flag was still there! + +The stately lawn looked vast and awe-inspiring now that one had to +face its darkly waving greens all alone, but Duty called. She had left +her hat by the flagpole, and she now went timidly up to get it. She +mounted the green knoll. She looked up. + +To play fair--to play fair! And yet, one must be loyal. One couldn't +let German spies go around with their pockets--Rudolph Kreisler was in +the engine-room right now! + +Louise's grandfather and his father's father had died for their +country--would they know, 'way up yonder in heaven, if she of their +own blood were to turn coward at the test? + +It was too poignant a risk. Louise took hep young life in her hands. +Down the green knoll and around the rose-bush, and she dropped into +the brick area right by the window which opened from the engine-room. +It was raised. + +The little girl peeped in, with her heart swelling till she thought she +would smother. There was black dust on the floor and black soot on the +walls. And there in the centre rose the huge black demon engine. But no +crouching enemy was to be seen anywhere--he was hiding, of course! + +She slipped through the window, past the great silent engine, and came +face to face with Rudolph Kreisler. + +The die was cast now. + +"Tell me," demanded Louise, choking with excitement and fear, "are you +a--a _German spy_?" + +"No," said the astonished boy, "_no_!" + +"Well, what _are_ you, then?" There was no backing down now; she was +going to have it out with him. + +"I wanted to be--American," he said, his lips threatening to quiver. +"I--I thought I was." And he looked away. + +One must know the truth when one's country was at stake. Louise drew a +quick breath. + +"Well, what are you doing with your pockets full of bombs, then?" she +forced herself to bring out. + +The little boy turned toward her again, and began slowly to draw out +the contents of those suspicious pockets. A mitt, a top, two balls, a +kite-string, a chicken-foot, a gopher, nails of various lengths, some +tobacco tags, and a grimy stick of candy were laid one by one on the +janitor's tool-bench, and the German spy stood with his pockets turned +wrong side out. + +But one must have the _whole_ truth. + +"What are you doing with balls and mitts when you sit on the steps all +the time?" the little girl demanded, but with decidedly less asperity +this time. + +"I thought maybe they'd--let me play, sometime." Something rolled down +his cheek and splashed on the front of his jacket. + +"_Won't_ they let you play?" choked Louise, blinking hard to clear her +suddenly clouded vision. + +The boy shook his head. + +"Well, why doesn't your mamma come and scold the teacher about it?" +she demanded in indignant sympathy. + +"I haven't any mamma." + +"Oh-o-o! Well, you have a papa, haven't you? Why doesn't _he_ do +something?" + +"Father says those who are born here don't know how awful it is to +have to choose----" then he stopped. + +"Doesn't your father hate Germany?" the little girl asked. + +"Why, no," said the boy. + +"Does he love America?" + +"Yes," said the boy. + +"Well! Well!" exclaimed the little girl. Then--"Do you know, Rudolph, +I'm sorry for your papa!" + +But Rudolph did not answer this time. He merely turned aside till his +face was hidden. + +Suddenly a remembered something gripped Louise. + +"Rudolph," she said, "if you _are_ American, why did you refuse to +come under the flag?" + +"I--I was going to--but they called me a 'coward,' and said I was +afraid to refuse," he answered huskily. + +Louise found herself batting very heavy lashes again. + +"I am so glad I came to you," she said, "because I never would have +known that you are not a German spy if you hadn't told me!" + +"Lou-i-i-se!" + +The two started at the call--it was in Tinsie Willis's high-pitched +voice. Evidently she had been sent to find the truant. + +"Sh-h-h!" exclaimed Louise to Rudolph. "They are after me for staying +out so long. I must go." + +"Those steps yonder lead to the front hall," said the boy. "Go up that +way." + +"But you must come, too!" Louise exclaimed. + +"I can't," replied the miserable child. "The boys are fixing to fight +me. When school is over I'll slip out and go home." + +"But why wait? Why don't you go now?" asked the little girl, a strange +uneasiness coming over her. + +"The police will get me if I go out on the street during school +hours," answered he. + +"Lou-i-i-se!" + +"I'm going," whispered Louise to Rudolph, "but _don't_ let the boys +catch you! Miss Barclay has gone--and--and--_don't_ let them catch +you, Rudolph!" + +The next moment she glided up the dark stairway and came out into the +big hall. + +Jimmie Fisher was emerging from the third-grade cloaking-room with his +hat and books. + +"Father's leaving for France with a hospital unit," he explained +hurriedly, "and mother sent for me to tell him good-by." Then he +darted away. + +Miss Barclay gone! And Jimmie gone! Had God himself deserted the third +grade? + + * * * * * + +When Louise crept back into the schoolroom--ahead of Tinsie Willis, +who was still searching for her--she found things very troublous +indeed. The children were naughty and restless, and the substitute +was--a substitute! The whole class had been told to stay in, and +Louise was promptly included in the sentence as soon as her tardy +little face appeared in the doorway. + +But she did not cry or fling herself about, for she knew she had +remained out of the room overtime. Of course it had been for a high +purpose, but that she could not explain, so she merely assented +courteously and slipped into her seat. Her grandfather and his +father's father had laid down their lives for the right--if she did +not succeed in living through that dreadful half-hour of punishment, +she would be but another of her race to die for a high cause. + +Matters grew worse, and now the wind and the sky took a hand. The +great trees outside began to battle fiercely together, and the sky +frowned, darker and darker. + +Suddenly Louise--looking out of the window--saw Perkins, the janitor, +hauling down the flag! Was the Houston Street School surrendering to +the Germans? + +For one unworthy moment Louise suspected Rudolph Kreisler again. But +she instantly afterward reminded herself that he had told her with his +own lips he wished to be American. + +Then the heavens opened and the floods came. It was a terrible, +terrible afternoon, but children and substitute managed somehow to +live through it, and after so long a time the gong sounded for the +dismissal of school. + +The children of the other grades marched out. Tramp--tramp--it sounded +terribly like a host in retreat! + +Then quiet!--with the third-graders sitting silent in their seats, +trying to calculate how many thousand years it would take for that +long clock-hand to move half-way round the dial again. + +Louise began wondering at just what point Rudolph Kreisler would steal +out of his hiding and break for home. The rain had stopped, and she +hoped and believed that the little German would make good his escape +before the third grade had finished serving sentence. + +Suddenly Luke, raising his hand, asked of the substitute: + +"May I speak to Billy Hastings on business?" + +The substitute was writing something and assented without looking up. +Louise could not help hearing the hoarsely whispered "business." + +"Connie Tipton," said Luke to Billy, "says that that German spy has +been hiding in the basement but has slipped up-stairs--" The hoarse +whisper dropped lower at this point and Louise could not catch the +words which followed. She guessed darkly, however, and clung to her +desk tighter and tighter. + +At that fateful moment the substitute looked up and said: + +"Children, the others have all gone, and it looks like rain again, so +I am going to dismiss you. File out quietly--I don't wish to have to +call you back." + +She did not rise from her seat to marshal them out, taking care that +the last one of them was out of sight of the schoolhouse before he +slackened his pace. She merely dropped her eyes to her writing again +and left them practically to their own devices. + +The boys marched through the cloaking-room first, and they were +ominously quiet about it. + +Then the little girls rose and filed out. Louise led the girls' line, +but though she followed swiftly in the wake of the boys, they had +disappeared off the face of the earth when she reached the +cloaking-room door which opened into the hall. + +They had slipped off to hunt for Rudolph Kreisler, and Louise knew it. +She hoped that Rudolph had left the building, but she was not sure. + +Something must be done--but _what_? + +Just then she caught from above the sound of tiptoeing and whispering. + +It was dishonorable to "tattle," but it wasn't dishonorable to fly +after a set of lawless boys and keep them from abusing an innocent +would-be American. Louise deserted the head of her line and darted up +the long stairs. + +It was like a frightful nightmare--the stealthy, breathless chase +which followed. She could not stop the boys in their mad search, could +not command their attention a moment to explain. In and out they +darted--fourth-grade, fifth-grade, sixth-grade, seventh! Every crack +and cranny, every cloaking-room and teacher's desk was made to prove +its innocence of sheltering the fugitive spy. The scampering boys were +just finishing their search of the seventh grade when Louise found +herself at the foot of the garret steps. + +She stopped and surveyed their boxed-up secretiveness. What if Rudolph +had gone up there? + +From the sounds of disappointment now issuing from the seventh grade +she knew that the last schoolroom to be searched had not yielded up +the quarry. Yes, Rudolph must be in the garret, and of course the boys +would pursue him there! + +Then a sudden idea came to her. If she could but reach Rudolph first +she might help him to climb out of the garret window. + +Up the dark steps she flew, but, alas! there were flying feet to +follow! The others had seen, and were coming after. + +They caught up with her before she reached the top, and she and they +burst into the long garret room together. + +It was big with mystery--that long garret place--and weirdly +frightening with its half-lights and whole shadows. For one moment the +children stood at pause before its awesome silence. + +No German spy was in sight. + +Then the boys began searching hurriedly, and after a quick glance +about the open and lighter space before them, went pushing their quest +farther and farther into the distant dark of the wings and gables. + +Louise stood where they had left her, with the feeling that _the end +of all things_ was at hand, and that there was no use to struggle +further. Presently her mist-dimmed eyes were attracted to a pile of +something over at a small window near where she stood. The janitor had +thrown their beautiful flag across an old couch without taking the +trouble to roll it properly. + +The indignant little girl started toward the couch to straighten out +and roll the flag when her ear caught a sound which caused her to +pause a moment in dim speculation. There was a step below, a firm, a +familiar step--but no, she must be mistaken! + +She slipped over to the couch, but the next moment drew back and +clapped her hand over her mouth to repress a startled scream. A little +yellow-haired boy lay asleep upon the couch, with the big flag nearly +covering him! + +Louise leaned over him. Two shining drops still lay on his cheek. He +had sobbed himself to sleep--he was such a _little_ boy! + +[Illustration: "You can't touch Rudolph!" she tried. "He's under the +flag!"] + +A drift of damp air floated in from the window, and the sleeper +shivered and moved as if to cuddle further under his shelter. Louise +very gently drew the bunting folds closer about his neck. Somehow she +_knew_ that this was not desecration. + +That steady step from below again and--nearer! + +But just at that moment the boys came noisily back from the distant +wings and gables. + +"Hello, Louise! What are you doing there?" Luke Musgrove called. + +Louise started up. She was between them and the sleeping boy, but she +could not screen him from their astonished eyes. + +"Gee, but there he is!" exclaimed Billy. "Let's----" + +But the spirit of a long line of just and fair Americans was facing +them. Louise Carey was descended from ancestors who had bought freedom +and fair play with their blood, so in that hour--when she faced the +unthinking lawless--there was a something in her eyes which brought +them to a stand before her. + +"You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under the flag!" + +A quiet fell upon them. They looked first at the sacred, sheltering +flag of their country, and then at each other. And while they yet +paused in awe there came to them the sound of a steady, familiar step +on the garret stair. The next moment the door opened and there entered +Miss Barclay--the teacher who, by her wisdom and her justice, could +always command to stillness the tempests of their childish hearts. + + + + +AMERICA FIRST + + +Little Riego Yanez was a native of Mexico--of that unhappy part of +Mexico which is constantly plundered by revolutionary bands who spend +their time in fighting, and who win their supplies by robbing the more +stable people of the republic. + +Riego's father, Antonio Yanez, had suffered many times at the hands of +the revolutionists. He was a saddler by trade, and also a small +farmer, so the products of his industry were just what the warring +bandits needed. But the warring bandits did not pay for what they +needed. They merely took, and rode away! + +So Antonio decided on a desperate step--he would emigrate to America. + +But Riego's mother objected to removing to America. Mexico was rife +with hatred and distrust of the "gringos," and many and dark were the +stories told of the country north of the Great North River. Besides, +Riego's elder brother, Pascual, an unruly lad of fifteen, was very +bitterly opposed to the change. + +So it was at length decided that Antonio should dare alone the dangers +and hardships of America. If all was as the revolutionists said, he +could escape back to Chihuahua. If, by happy chance, he should prosper +in the new country, he would send for wife and children. + +A year passed. The father's letters--few and short, for he had had +little schooling--were chiefly concerned with begging them to come and +see for themselves. + +Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the mother and children packed +into a hired wagon the tragic little which the bandits had left them, +and set their faces toward the Rio Grande. They, too, were bound for +that distrusted country which lay north of the northern edge of their +world. The mother and the two girls were hopeful, but Pascual was +silent and Riego afraid. + +Not till the night came down did they reach the dark river which was +to flow forever between the old life and the new. To little +ten-year-old Riego this all-pervading darkness meant "America," for to +his drowsy brain and anxious heart the black clouds above and the +darkly rolling waters below seemed to typify the spirit of the land +into which he was crossing. + +Another moment, however, and he had given up the struggle to think it +all out and fallen asleep with his head on his mother's lap. + +The next morning Riego waked up in a better land. + +He sat up on his cot and blinked his black eyes and stared about him +at the cosey little room. A flood of light poured in at the one tiny +window--Then the sun _did_ shine in this land of the gringos! + +This was very interesting. Riego hurried into his clothes and started +out to see America. + +His route of exploration led through a cheery kitchen, where he found +his two sisters busy cooking breakfast, and smiling and chatting at +their work. But Riego had no time to stop and question, for the green +things in the little garden beyond were beckoning to him. + +In another minute he was out among them. It was very green--this +"America"--very green and very sunny, with rows upon rows of the most +wonderful vegetables running out to meet the morning sun! + +Soon Riego glimpsed his father and mother beyond a dividing fence at +the side, and he ran at once to his father's arms. After the first +long embrace Riego drew back, the better to see the father who had +dared America alone for his children's sake. + +Why--his brow was smoother than Riego remembered!--his eyes +clearer!--Did one grow younger, happier, in America? + +And now Riego's mother was calling his attention to the snow-white +chickens which fluttered about them. There was a cow, too, Riego +learned--a cow and a pony and pigs and pigeons--and _all theirs_! + +Riego shouted for joy. But the next moment the joy died upon his lips, +and he asked: + +"The revolutionists, father? How long will they let us have these?" + +"Riego," said his father, "there are no revolutionists in America. +Here, if a man works, he receives a just reward, and he is allowed to +keep in peace what he earns. Our only danger is from across the +border." + +Then Riego's mother told him that his father had a fine saddle-shop +which the Americans never raided. + +It was all very, very wonderful!--A man was paid well for working, and +could keep in peace what he earned!--Was this what was meant by +"_America_"? + +Riego's father's saddle-shop was the front room of their little +dwelling, and opened immediately upon a small street in the Mexican +quarter of the village. It was a very interesting place, indeed, for +the wide door and the hospitable bench just inside invited in many an +entertaining visitor, besides the men who came to buy saddles or to +have their harness repaired. + +One of these visitors, Alonzo Lorente, was particularly interesting +to Riego and his brother, though their father always became moodily +quiet when the man came. Lorente was a big, dashing fellow, full of +strange oaths and of dark insinuations. And somehow, whenever he +entered, the air of the shop became electric with an indefinable +excitement. + +It did not take Riego long to see that, at such times, his father +managed to keep him and Pascual so busy that they missed most of their +hero's inspiriting talk. Riego was particularly unfortunate in this +respect. He spent little of his time in the shop where his father and +Pascual plied the saddler's trade, for it was his duty to help in the +market-garden. + +This deprivation of Lorente's society, however, had its compensations. +It was Riego's especial work to peddle their vegetables at the khaki +tents of the gringo soldiers a few miles away, and this was very +entertaining and exciting in itself, for the soldiers were jolly and +kind and said nice things to one. + +And then, one rainy Saturday afternoon, when the peddling was all +done, Riego sat in his father's shop and listened to Alonzo Lorente. +And Alonzo Lorente startled him awake with the news that all was not +well with the land of America. He spoke darkly of "gringos" and of +"vengeance." + +Pascual, Riego noticed, crept closer and closer to the big man, till +his fingers forgot the leather they should have been stretching. + +It was then that the unexpected happened. The father, usually so quiet +and so busy, suddenly rose from his work-bench and came forward. + +"Lorente," he said, and Pascual and Riego started at the iron in his +tone, "Lorente, it is not the busy men who have quarrel with America. +It is those who have time to do--much talking!" + +There was a pause and dead silence, and then Lorente the magnificent +turned on his heel with a growl and left the shop. + +Then Antonio returned to his work-bench, with Riego following, but +Pascual stole to the door and gazed at the receding Lorente till his +father called him sharply to his duties. + +One day the father did not open his shop at all. It was closed in +honor of the great American festival, Riego heard him explain grimly +to a follower of Lorente, who questioned. And Riego heard the follower +of Lorente laugh scornfully as he strode away. + +There being no work that day, Pascual and Riego set out together to +explore the yet farther reaches of America. + +But they had not gone far past the square where loomed the several +American stores when they sighted a crowd in a grove of big trees, and +heard voices shouting and hands clapping as if in great joy. A number +of gringo soldiers were roving about. Two were coming leisurely toward +them across the green. + +Riego wanted to press forward to see and hear, but his brother jerked +him by the sleeve, exclaiming: + +"It is the Americans' great feast-day, the Fourth of July. Come away!" + +"But father says _we_ are Americans now. Why can't we go and hear what +they are saying?" Riego's voice had risen in his eagerness. + +The approaching soldiers stopped and looked at him, and Riego's heart +stopped, too. + +But the taller of the soldiers saluted him in fine fashion, and +addressed to him words of courteous welcome: + +"Don Pedro de Alvarado-Rain-in-the-Face-Sitting-Bull, for such as thou +art is the picnic! Welcome to our city!" + +Riego understood the gesture of invitation. He thanked the courtly +soldier, and walked proudly forward, followed by his brother. + +It was a gay scene, but quiet now, for someone was speaking. The +starry banner of America fluttered everywhere, and smiling, +white-faced senoritas and brown-clad soldiers were gathered here and +there in listening groups. Under a tree, near the platform, sat +musicians with shining silver horns and a big drum. A number of +children were seated on the grass in front of the stand. Among them, +Riego noticed, were many dark faces like his own. + +Suddenly Riego's courage gave way and he started to retreat. But a +sweet-faced senora took him by the hand and led him and Pascual to a +place where they could see everything, whispering as they went: + +"It is our day of freedom." + +At first the boy was dazed by the strangeness of the scene, and his +interest shifted. But the sound of a sweet, ringing voice soon +compelled his attention and he turned quickly toward the platform. + +Riego caught his breath. Who was it? _What_ was it that was speaking +to him? + +In the centre of the platform stood a clear-eyed, white-faced goddess, +with the flag of the new country draped around her slender form, and +the sunlight of this day of freedom beating down upon her shining +head. She was speaking, but in the difficult new tongue. + +Riego could not take his eyes away, but he reached out his hand +quickly to touch Pascual. + +The sweet-faced senora leaned over him. + +"America," she whispered in explanation. + +_America!_ Beautiful America! Riego crept forward, unconscious now of +the crowd around. Oh, to _understand_ America! + +Then a strange thing happened. The beautiful goddess suddenly ceased +speaking, and her face became clouded with thought. Her eyes were +focussed on the eager boy who had crept forward and was standing +spellbound before her--the most conspicuous of the group of +dark-faced, bewildered children. + +Riego did not know that everybody in that audience had suddenly leaned +forward in dead silence. + +After one tense moment the Beautiful One advanced to the edge of the +platform and descended the steps till she stood almost among them. + +And now this strange, new, better country was speaking to Riego _in +his own tongue_! + +"You didn't _understand_ me, did you?" she asked in Spanish. + +"Not _then_, my lady!--but _now_!" It was Riego who answered her, but +the other dark faces were alight like his own now. The crowd was +leaning forward again. + +"Ah, that is all the trouble!" said the Beautiful One. "Our new people +simply do not understand America! Do you wish me to tell you the story +in Spanish?" + +There were many who answered this time. + +Then she told them in their own tongue of the great struggle for a new +freedom and a new peace which had been waged upon this soil over a +hundred years before. And the breathless children heard how this new +ideal of freedom had passed all bounds of the country in which it was +born, and thrilled all lands. They heard how the noble La Fayette of +France, Steuben of Prussia, and Kosciuszko of Poland each had offered +his all that America might be forever a refuge for the oppressed. They +learned how the German De Kalb had laid down his life at Camden for +the new faith, and how Count Pulaski had poured out the last drop of +his Polish blood to make the world's great dream of freedom "come true." + +Then the Beautiful One told the children how, throughout the more than +one hundred years since the fight was won, the footsore and oppressed +of many lands have found in America work and a just reward for +working, the freedom to do anything which does not harm another, and +the great gift of peace! + +"And now," exclaimed the speaker, "which of you will promise with me +to be loyal to America? Stand up!" + +And they stood up--the dark children, the white-faced senoritas, the +gringo soldiers, and all!--and repeated after the Beautiful One: + + "I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it + stands, + One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." + +When Riego turned from the inspiring scene it was to see his brother +Pascual walking away, and in close conversation with Alonzo Lorente. + + * * * * * + +The days passed, but Riego still treasured in his heart his first +vision of America. He knew now that the Beautiful One was only a +charming senorita and daughter of the big captain who commanded at the +American camp. But he liked to think of her as "America"--the +beneficent goddess who had smoothed the furrows from his father's brow +and crowned his faithful labors with reward. + +And then, one momentous day, the Beautiful One stood in the shop-door, +asking in Spanish if she might be allowed to enter. She was all in +white this time--snow-white. To Riego's fond imagination she was still +a shining goddess. + +Riego's father welcomed the senorita and dusted the bench that she +might sit and rest, for Riego had told him of the great American +festival, and Antonio had learned much besides. + +The senorita had come to speak to the father about his sons--and her +smiling glance included both the sullen Pascual and Riego, who stood +worshipfully by. + +It seemed that the senorita--Miss Flora Arden was her name--was to +teach a class of "newly made Americans," and again her glance +included the boys. She wanted to teach them to speak the English +language and to help them to a better understanding of America. The +senorita believed that most of the trouble which the newly made +Americans encountered was due to the fact that they did not know how +to find and use the good gifts which their new country had to offer. +And she was certain that most of the trouble they _gave_ was because +they brought old prejudices with them, and so did not open their +hearts to America. + +Riego understood the spirit of her proposal better than he did the +words of her correct Spanish. His father listened throughout with +thoughtful, grave attention. + +There were no charges to be made for this teaching? Then what was the +senorita to gain for so much effort? + +"I?" said the senorita--she was standing now, ready to depart--"I gain +a better country! My father is a soldier and serves his country by +helping to keep the peace along this troubled border. If I had been a +son I might have done as much. But I am only a daughter, Antonio! And +yet"--and she put her arm over Riego's shoulders as she spoke--"if I +help to make loyal even _one_ of America's adopted sons, am not I, +too, serving my country?" + +The father's rare smile assented to her offer, even before his lips +made the promise. + +Riego followed the Beautiful One to the door. + +Outside, Alonzo Lorente slouched against a lamp-post. The senorita +looked into Lorente's face and recoiled slightly. Riego saw the +recoil, and an unnamed fear suddenly laid its hand upon his heart. + + * * * * * + +Pascual and Riego went to Miss Arden's class--Pascual sullen and +uninterested, Riego breathlessly eager. But they had not attended many +times--indeed, had just begun to glimpse something of the bigness and +goodness of their new country--when the stroke fell that was to change +their little world. The good father dropped at his work-bench, +speechless and bewildered. The American doctor said he would be able +to work again, but that his mind would never be quite the same. + +Their wise father thus reduced to childishness, and their mother +ignorant of the new conditions and the new tongue, the boys were left +to plan for themselves. + +Pascual left Miss Arden's class. He explained that he would now have +to take charge of his father's shop; but he found time to make many +trips across the dark Rio Grande and to talk much with Lorente, who +now resumed his old practice of dropping in at the shop to chat. His +younger brother, however, continued under the senorita's instruction. + +Riego learned at Miss Arden's class that "freedom" gives one the right +to do as he wishes only in so far as he does not wish to interfere +with the rights of another. + +"There is no 'freedom' except in loyal obedience to law," she told him +one day. "America is a 'free' country because--though here are +gathered people from all lands--they join together in making laws +which are kind and impartial to all, and they stand together in +support of the laws they make." + +"But, senorita, Alonzo Lorente says--" began the boy, and stopped short. + +"What does Alonzo Lorente say?" the senorita asked quickly. + +"I--I promised not to tell," stammered the child. + +There was the blue truth of heaven in the senorita's eyes as she looked +into his own, and answered: "Riego, it is more than dishonest in Lorente +to accept the blessings which America affords him and not be true to +her. It is worse than traitorous in him to help spoil the peace of the +country which is his refuge from oppression. If Alonzo Lorente likes the +old way better than the new, he should go back to the old country. If he +honestly wishes to change what he finds here, and thinks he can better +things, he has one man's just share in deciding, for he is a naturalized +citizen and can vote on any question. But Alonzo Lorente _should speak +out openly or else keep silent_!" + +Before Riego left that afternoon Miss Arden had him repeat with her: + + "I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it + stands, + One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." + +But little Riego did not dream in how short a time would his loyalty +to his new country be tested. One afternoon--his father was still +lying unconscious--Riego was tending the shop alone, for Pascual had +crossed the Rio Grande in the early morning and had not yet returned. + +It was a dull, dull afternoon, for no patrons came, and the visitors +merely glanced in and passed on. It was hot and still, so the sleepy +Riego decided to rest. He found a cool spot behind a pile of boxes, +and lay down and closed his eyes. + + * * * * * + +When Riego opened his eyes again it was with a start. There were +voices--smothered voices--some men were in the shop! Riego lay still +and listened. + +"We will attack the gringo camp to-night--just before dawn," a +smothered voice was saying. "Alva has three hundred men and more. They +can easily surprise and destroy these eighty Americans, and so can +seize their horses and ammunition." + +"But the patrol?" It was Pascual's voice that whispered the question. +Riego's heart turned sick. He recognized the voice of Lorente in the +terrifying reply: + +"Pacheco and a picked few will knife the patrol at the ford, then +Alva's men will cross, and approach the camp up the ravine." + +"To-morrow morning?" Pascual's voice asked. + +"Yes, just before dawn." + +There were approaching steps on the street. + +A customer entered. Riego heard Lorente departing--heard the customer +inquire the price of a saddle, and go out. + +It must be done _now_--now while Pascual was alone, and he could +speak to him! The next moment Riego stood before his brother. + +"I heard you!" he cried. "Pascual, they _must not_!" + +But Pascual laid a fierce hand upon his breast and pinned him to the +wall. + +It was a terrible scene--that which followed--terrible in the tense +quiet of its enactment--terrible in its outcome! + +With Riego pinned against the wall where he needs must listen, Pascual +poured forth such a torrent of abuse, of falsehood, against the +"gringos" that at length the old hate blood leapt in the younger boy's +veins and went beating through his brain. + +The gringos were their enemies--_enemies_! The men who were coming +down upon them with the dawn were of their own blood, of their native +country! What if the invaders _were_ "revolutionists"? Were they not +_Mexican_? Talk of "loyalty"--one must be loyal to _one's own_! + +When Pascual loosed his grip upon the slight form it was after he had +stirred to the very dregs all that was passionate, all that was +ignorant and prejudiced and violent, in the boy's nature. + +That afternoon Riego did not report at Miss Arden's class, but long +after class hour he was obliged to pass her house on the mission to +deliver a mended harness to a farmer living near the American camp. + +Miss Arden and her mother, Riego knew, were the only members of the +big captain's family. They lived in a large house in the woods, +half-way between the town and the camp. He knew also that the big +captain stayed in camp. + +As Riego emerged from the long stretch of lonely woods which separated +Miss Arden's house from the town, and as he faced the other long +stretch of woods which lay between him and the camp, the boy was +struck by the isolation of the senorita's home. + +He reflected, however, that Alva's men were to attack the gringo +soldiers by way of the ford, and that the ford lay to the right +yonder, far out of connection with the captain's house. He was +glad--glad that Alva's men would not come that way! + +Suddenly he spied the senorita herself. She was standing on the steps +of her father's home. Riego's heart bounded within him at sight of +her. He pulled down his hat and hoped to pass unrecognized, but the +sweet, familiar voice called: + +"Riego!" + +He did not answer. + +Then she ran down the steps to him, and put her gentle hands upon him, +turning him to her against his will. + +"What is the matter, Riego?" she asked. + +No answer. + +"You didn't come to class this afternoon." + +No answer. + +"I'm sorry," she said, after a moment of silence in which she looked +searchingly into his face, "because we had an interesting lesson +to-day. It was all about what one ought to do in case one should be +forced to _choose between_ the old land and the new." + +The boy gave a swift, upward glance at her, then dropped his eyes to the +ground again. Miss Arden continued, and her voice was very serious now: + +"And we decided, Riego, that one ought to think out carefully which +country was really the better, and be true to that, because there is a +higher duty than that to party or country, and that is--to the +principles of justice and freedom." + +Riego's head sank lower. The Beautiful One took one of his brown hands +into her own. + +"And we said"--was she looking into the dark heart of him?--"that +whichever way one chose, one should choose _openly_. Now this little +brown hand could never----" + +But the little brown hand was snatched away, and with a great sob the +child fled into the woods. + +When at last that night Riego did fall asleep he dreamed that his +beautiful America came to him with her white arms held out in appeal, +and that he slipped a dagger out of his bosom and stabbed her to the +heart. + +He started, awake, and sat up. It was black dark. + +_Had Alva struck already? Or was there yet time?_ + +Ten feet away was Pascual's cot--he must not wake Pascual! As still as +death he slipped out of his bed, pulled on his overalls that he had +hung near, and crept out into the moonless night. + +Riego could not think--it was all so desperate! He could only respond +to the heart that was in him, and creep forward through the dark. But +his feet knew the road that he took, though his brain was reeling. He +was going straight to the one who had wakened the new loyalty in +him--his beautiful America! + +"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it +stands," went surging through him as he struggled on. + +Riego was not grandly heroic; he was only a frightened little boy, but +determined now to do his loyal best for the country that had sheltered +him from oppression. And so, though the treacherous sands might seek +to drag him down, though the dark chaparral yonder might hide--any +fearsome thing!--Riego went forward. + +And now the house of the big captain loomed black before him. Riego +stole up the front steps. He knew behind which of the long, closed +windows the senorita slept, and he approached and tapped fearfully +upon it. + +It was a frightened voice that called: "Who is _that_?" + +Riego was not conscious how he answered, but he knew that a wave of +relief flowed over him when the blind of the long window opened and he +was drawn into the dark room by a pair of familiar hands. + +The blind was closed after him and a light was struck. + +The senorita's eyes were disclosed big and startled; her face was as +white as the long robe she wore. + +"What _is_ it, Riego?" she gasped. + +"They are coming!" he whispered. + +"Who?" she exclaimed, catching him by the shoulders, "_Who?_" + +"Alva," the boy answered, "and three hundred with him. They are going +to surprise--our soldiers--and kill them while they sleep!" + +The senorita sprang to the telephone. She pulled down the lever many, +many times, then she staggered back against the wall. + +"They have cut the wires!" she cried. "Riego, you and I must take the +warning!" + +"To the camp?" the boy cried in dismay. + +"Yes, there's no one within a mile of here that could take it but us!" + +"But the Mexicans have spies over there," the boy moaned. "They will +find us in the dark with their knives!" + +She had flung on a long cloak, and was hurriedly fastening her shoes. + +"Then you stay here and I'll go," she said. + +"_You?_" cried the startled child--then--"It is dark out there, my +lady; I'll go with you." + +They extinguished the light and stole out together to the stable, but +the horses were gone! + +Desperate now, they started out afoot. + +The treacherous sand again and the black dark! But they crept along +together. Then suddenly the boy's courage gave way and he clung to the +cloaked figure, sobbing: + +"Senorita! Senorita! I am _afraid_!" + +The senorita was trembling, too, and her voice broke as she whispered: + +"You and I don't make very good heroes, do we?" + +They had come to a standstill and were clinging together in the dark. +Suddenly there was a sound of something approaching---the velvet tread +of an unshod pony in the sand! + +The rider passed. + +When they breathed again the senorita took him strongly by the +shoulders. + +"Riego," she whispered--and there was no break in her voice now--"we +must separate. One of us must go straight to the ford and warn the +patrol, the other to camp." + +"But it is near the ford that Pacheco is hiding," the boy replied. + +"I'll go to the ford," she said simply. + +"No, my lady, _I_ go--you take the news to camp." And before she could +detain him the boy turned at a sharp angle and plunged into the deeper +blackness of the chaparral. + + * * * * * + +A long nightmare intervened between their parting and the time when the +half-dead boy clung to the saddle of the patrol and whispered to him: + +"Keep to the open, senor; there are men with knives in the chaparral! +Help is coming!" + +Then, somehow, everything was blotted out for Riego. + +When consciousness came again to the boy, the cool air of the dawn was +choked with dust clouds till he could not see ten feet before him and +his ears were nearly bursting with the thunder-beat of frantic hoofs. +Dim horses were rearing and plunging against the reddening dawn. +There were shouts and cries and firing! Firing! + +Who was losing? Who was _winning_? + +Dear God, Alva's men were sweeping back across the Rio Grande! + +One little frightened boy had saved the day for the country that had +given him refuge from oppression. + +But what was that? A call for help? _Whose voice was that?_ + +Riego plunged into the thick of the dust cloud toward the cry, and +dropped by Pascual's side. How could he have known that his brother +would ride that night with the invaders! + +But Pascual was striving to speak. Riego leaned over him and caught +the whisper: + +"Lorente shot me down to get my horse and escape!" + +And now the gringos were circling round the wounded one--they would +beat out his brains with their guns! But--but--why, they were lifting +him up, and _tenderly_! The Americans were lifting up his wounded +brother! + + * * * * * + +Many and bewildering were the things which happened to Riego in the +next few hours. First, he and the all-but-dead Pascual were carried by +the soldiers to the American camp. Then his brother was taken away +from him and borne into a closed tent. + +The soldiers gathered around Riego and patted him on the shoulder. +They gave him many things--things to eat and coins and pocket-knives +and tobacco-tags, all the while challenging him to smile--he whose +captured brother was yonder! + +Later the big captain sent for him and took him by the hand. + +"Riego Yanez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands with an American +hero!" + +At length a tall soldier came to Riego and led him to the closed tent. +But the tall soldier did not enter; he merely pushed the boy inside +the tent and dropped the khaki flap. + +Riego blinked his eyes. Somebody was lying stretched out on a cot, and +somebody was fanning him--the Beautiful One and his brother! Riego +crept toward her suddenly outstretched hands. + +Then he leaned over Pascual. But Pascual's eyes were closed and on his +face was a yellow pallor. + +"The surgeon has taken out the ball," whispered the Beautiful One. "He +will live, with good nursing, and I am on the job." She paused a +moment, then asked, as she looked into his face with concern: "Aren't +you happy, you tragic little soldier? Why don't you smile at the good +news?" + +"How--" began the child--and a strange, sick feeling swept over +him--"how long before he will be well enough to be stood against a +wall--and----" + +"Why, you poor child!"--and the big tears sprang to the senorita's +eyes--"your brother will not be stood against a wall and shot for +treason--never--_never_! And he's not going to be shut up in prison, +either!" + +[Illustration: "Riego Yanez," he said. "I am proud to shake hands with +an American hero!"] + +"But why, senorita? Why? The big captain knows that he was with Alva's +men." + +"He is young--just a boy," and the senorita laid a tender hand upon +the head of the wounded lad. "He is the son of good parents and +brother to---- Oh, you tragic little soldier, can't you guess who it +is has saved your brother?" + +"_You_, senorita?" + +"_Yourself_, Riego. Because you have been heroically loyal they are to +give your brother another chance. We Americans, Riego"--and her white +hand closed upon his own to include him with her--"we Americans are +going to nurse Pascual back to a better life and teach him how to be +free!" + +The sick lad stirred on his cot. + +When the Beautiful One leaned over him in quick solicitude, he +smiled. + + + + +The Scribner Series of School Reading + + + A Uniform Series for Supplementary Reading in Schools. Each, 12mo, + _net_, *$0.50. + + Hero Tales Told in School. By JAMES BALDWIN. Illustrated. + + Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth. By + MARY E. BURT and ZENAIDE RAGEZIN. Illustrated. + + Odysseus: The Hero of Ithaca. By MARY E. BURT. Illustrated. + + The Boy General. By Mrs. GEORGE A. CUSTER and MARY E. BURT. + Illustrated. + + Don Quixote De La Mancha. By MIGUEL DE CERVANTES. From the + translations of Duffield and Shelton. By MARY E. BURT and LUCY + LEFFINGWELL CABLE. + + The Cable Story Book. Selections for School Reading. By GEORGE W. + CABLE. Edited by MARY E. BURT and LUCY L. CABLE. Illustrated. + + The Hoosier School Boy. By EDWARD EGGLESTON. Illustrated. + + The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and Letters for School + Reading. By EUGENE FIELD. Edited by MARY E. BURT and MARY L. + CABLE. With an Introduction by GEORGE W. CABLE. Illustrated. + + The Howells Story Book. By WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS. Selected and + arranged by MARY E. BURT. Illustrated by MISS HOWELLS. + + The Lanier Book. Selections for School Reading. By SIDNEY LANIER. + Edited and arranged By MARY E. BURT, in co-operation with Mrs. + LANIER. Illustrated. + + The Page Story Book. Selections for School Reading by THOMAS + NELSON PAGE. Edited by FRANK E. SPALDING and CATHERINE T. BRYCE. + + Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen by BRANDER MATTHEWS. + + Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. By HOWARD PYLE. Illustrated + by the Author. + + The Roosevelt Book. Selections from the writings of Theodore + Roosevelt, with an introduction by ROBERT BRIDGES. Illustrated. + + A Child's Garden of Verses. By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Illustrated. + + Krag and Johnny Bear. Being the Personal Histories of Krag, Randy, + Johnny Bear, and Chink. By ERNEST THOMPSON SETON. Illustrated. + + Lobo, Rag, and Vixen. Selections from "Wild Animals I Have Known." + By ERNEST THOMPSON SETON. With 4 full-page and many other + illustrations from drawings by the Author. + + Twelve Naval Captains. With portraits. By MOLLY ELLIOTT SEAWELL. + + Fanciful Tales. By FRANK R. STOCKTON. Edited by JULIA E. + LANGWORTHY. Illustrated. + + Around the World in the Sloop Spray. By Captain JOSHUA SLOCUM. + Illustrated. + + The van Dyke Book. Selections for School Reading. By HENRY VAN + DYKE. Edited and arranged by Professor EDWIN MIMS, with + Biographical Sketch by MISS VAN DYKE. Illustrated. + + Children's Stories of American Literature, 1660-1860. By HENRIETTA + CHRISTIAN WRIGHT. + + Children's Stories of American Literature, 1860-1896. By HENRIETTA + CHRISTIAN WRIGHT. + + Children's Stories in American History. By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN + WRIGHT. + + Children's Stories in American Progress. By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN + WRIGHT. + + + + +Transcriber's Note + + + * Punctuation errors have been corrected. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of America First, by Frances Nimmo Greene + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICA FIRST *** + +***** This file should be named 36726.txt or 36726.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/2/36726/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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