IN A MAZE OF MYSTERIES
“I hear you have been having a most unpleasant time, Mrs. Gray,”
volunteered Molly Marshall. “Between falling from the skies and being
made a prisoner by the enemy you have had, I should consider, enough
thrills to satisfy any one.”
“_C’est la guerre_ (it is war),” answered Grace smiling and shrugging
her shoulders.
“_Oui_,” agreed Miss Marshall. “I shall hope to see more of you.
Mrs. Smythe has kindly offered to share her apartment with me, and I
understand that you are billeted in the same house, so we should have
some pleasant chats. I should love to know you better.”
Grace said the sentiment was reciprocated. While they were speaking,
the supervisor was taking her revenge on the Chinaman. She was abusing
him shamefully, so much so that Grace could stand it no longer.
“Won, you go now. You savvy too much talk,” declared Grace nodding to
him.
“Me savvy talk like machine glun, a-la. Me go.”
Grace smiled and handed him the promised gift, whereupon Madame’s rage
broke out afresh.
“Girl, how dare you!”
“Won has been working for me, Mrs. Smythe. It is best that he go now.
He has worked too faithfully for me to stand by and see him abused,
begging your pardon.” Grace signalled to the Chinaman to be gone.
He lost no time in leaving the place, giving Grace a sly wink and
a grimace as he backed from the doorway. Molly Marshall saved the
situation by leading Mrs. Smythe to the rear of the canteen, where she
soon had the supervisor laughing. Shortly afterwards the young woman
walked out with her, much to Grace’s relief.
“Chad came in here intending to keep her temper, but she lost it,”
declared Elfreda.
“It was my fault that she did, Elfreda. Some one has been advising
her to behave herself. It is my idea that she went to headquarters to
enter a complaint against me this morning, but that she was advised
to be good if she wished to remain with the Army of Occupation. Here,
Buddy, are you headed in the direction of the Intelligence Department?”
she called to a soldier who was passing. He said he could go that way,
whereupon Grace asked him to carry a note and leave it there. The
note, which she scribbled on a piece of wrapping paper, was addressed
to Captain Boucher and read: “Yat Sen,” and was signed, “G. G.”
“More mystery?” questioned Elfreda.
“Oceans of it. Miss Marshall is a good-looking woman, isn’t she?”
“Yes, I suppose so, but I can’t get over my first impression that there
is something queer about her. Doesn’t she impress you that way?”
“Considering what I know about her, she does.”
“Eh? What do you know?” demanded Elfreda.
“Do you recall my telling you about a German officer and a woman who,
the day I was released on the other side, stood making remarks as I
passed--how the woman said, ‘She is as hideous and as ugly no doubt as
her soul is black’?”
“Yes.”
“You ask me what I know of Miss Marshall. When I tell you that she
is the woman who made that remark, you will understand that I know
altogether too much about her.”
“A spy!” gasped Miss Briggs.
Grace nodded.
“Yes, but which way?”
“Captain Boucher informs me that she is an American spy and a
brilliant one. It is difficult for me to believe that, in view of what
I saw and heard. She at least appears to be playing the game both ways.”
“Have you told Captain Boucher of that?”
“Not yet, but I shall at the first opportunity. I intended to do so,
but after what he said to me I decided to wait. He told me further that
I might with perfect safety coöperate with Miss Marshall, which I shall
not do.”
“Loyalheart, you are wonderful. How you could meet her, as you did
after what you knew of her, is beyond me. I could no more have done it
than I could fly. I don’t believe she even suspects that you recognized
her.”
“I hope not for the sake of the work I have before me. Of course this
is between us only, and I wish you would not breathe a word of it or
any other confidential matter while we are in our rooms. I suspect
those walls have ears.”
Mrs. Smythe did not return to the canteen again that afternoon, being
engaged, as Grace surmised, in arranging for a new building to take the
place of the one destroyed when the ammunition dump blew up. At six
o’clock Grace went home to prepare their supper, leaving Elfreda to
wait for their relief at the canteen. There was no effort on Grace’s
part this time to enter her home quietly, still she made no noise that
she was conscious of, but she had no more than gotten to her room than
there came a tap on the door. It was Marie.
Grace welcomed her smilingly.
“I am glad to see you out again. How do you feel?”
“Not very well, Madame. I am sore all over. All Huns are brutes!”
“Do you include the good doctor?”
“Ah, the doctor. He is fine on the outside, but the soul, Madame! Why
should one say it when one does not know?”
Grace nodded thoughtfully and asked who was with Mrs. Smythe. Marie
informed her that Miss Marshall was taking supper with Madame and
talking of the war.
“Madame told me to say to you when you came in that you were to go to
the new canteen in the morning. It is near the river on the same street
as the old one. You are to be there at six o’clock in the morning. Is
there anything I can do for you?”
“I believe you have already done something for me. Did you make up the
bed and slick up the room?” Grace regarded her smilingly.
“Yes, Madame.”
“Thank you very much. Did Madame go to headquarters this morning?”
Marie nodded and grinned.
“She went to ask them to send you home, but instead they told her she
was the one who should be sent home. Was that not glorious? Oo-lá-lá,
how I should have loved to hear it and to see the face of Madame.”
“That will do, please, Marie,” rebuked the Overton girl. “She is our
superior. Thank you for your kindness about the room.”
Marie smiled and nodded as she backed to the door, then closed it
softly behind her. Grace stepped over and locked the door, and pulling
the shade down began a thorough examination of the room. First she
examined the furniture, then the fireplace, the lighting fixtures and
the baseboard that extended all the way around the room.
“All clear,” muttered the girl.
Next, the walls came in for a scrutiny. Not only did she look the walls
over, but felt them gingerly with her finger tips. What the result of
that search was Grace Harlowe did not even confide to Elfreda Briggs,
but she was satisfied that her intuition again had served her well, and
was now determined to be more watchful than ever.
Her suspicions were still further confirmed when she heard the voices
of Mrs. Smythe and Miss Marshall in conversation with the doctor in
his apartment that evening. They were making merry and Madame was
actually laughing. When Grace discovered that they were discussing
subjects that she knew were of military value she was horrified that
Mrs. Smythe could so far forget herself, but what to do about it she
did not know. Grace felt that she should take the matter to Captain
Boucher, yet she could not quite bring herself to carry tales about the
woman she did not like. It looked petty to her, beneath her, so Grace
decided to await developments and continue with her work.
That night as she lay wide awake in her bed, she heard the doctor go to
the cellar. She heard him fix the furnace for the night; then the sound
of distant conversation floated up to her. After a time the doctor came
up and the house settled down to silence.
This same thing, so far as the cellar excursion was concerned,
continued for three nights. During that time Grace did not get much
sleep. Much of the time, after Elfreda went to sleep, Grace spent
sitting in a chair tipped back against the wall where she appeared to
be resting in profound thought. On the third night she was aroused
by an alarm of fire in the street. She did not learn the cause of it
until the following morning, when she was informed that the fire had
been discovered in the basement of the main barracks, where nearly a
thousand American soldiers were sleeping.
Grace asked few questions about this blaze, though in the light of
what she already knew she had certain well-founded suspicions. The
next night nothing occurred to disturb the Army of Occupation, though
Grace Harlowe increased her rapidly enlarging fund of information to an
extent that alarmed even her. She saw that she must turn over some of
it to the Intelligence Department without delay. Human lives depended
upon her doing so. It was too late to do so that night, for to leave
the place might upset all her plans were she discovered.
After pondering over the subject from all angles the Overton girl
went to bed. How she did wish she might confide in Elfreda Briggs.
Grace, however, had learned that in these secret matters there was
but one safe course--to keep one’s own counsel. Well-intentioned as
those in whom one confided might be, there was always the possibility
of a word slipping out, of a facial expression or of an unconsciously
antagonistic attitude toward the wrong person.
“Dear Elfreda shall know all that I know after I have completed my
work. I must confess to myself that it is the most interesting work I
have ever done, this pitting one’s wits against some of the keenest
ones in Europe. However, I still have some distance to go before I
arrive at my objective.” These thoughts and many others drifted through
Grace Harlowe’s mind before she got to sleep.
In the morning she asked Elfreda to report for her at the canteen, as
she expected to be late in arriving there. After breakfast, during
which the girls discussed nothing beyond their own personal affairs,
“Captain” Grace went out, this time by way of the front door, heading
straight for the canteen.
The place was not yet open, so, unlocking the door, the Overton girl
stepped in and, sitting down, studied the street keenly. What Grace was
seeking to determine was whether or not she had been followed. There
being no indication that she had been followed she went out, locking
the door behind her, and proceeded directly to the headquarters of the
Intelligence Department, which was located in the executive building on
the river front.
Captain Boucher had not yet come in, and Grace waited for the better
part of an hour for him, preferring not to have him called up, for
reasons known only to herself. The captain came in briskly, humming
to himself, but stopped short when he discovered the demure figure of
“Captain” Grace seated at his desk.
The Overton girl rose and saluted.
“Ah! I have been looking for you. Thank you for the name you sent over.
We have been watching that gentleman since, but while his actions at
times have been suspicious, we have as yet nothing on him. Can you give
me further information that will assist?”
Grace said she was not prepared to do so, that what knowledge she had
of Yat Sen was only circumstantial, but that she expected to round out
the matter very soon and have something more definite for the Bureau.
“I suppose, sir, that you discovered that the cause of the fire in
Barracks Number One was due to a short circuit?” she questioned
innocently.
“What! How did you know that?”
“Perhaps I surmised it, sir. If I may do so I would offer the
suggestion that the wiring of Number Two Barracks be looked over before
to-night. If you do not watch out the place will be on fire before you
know it.”
“Mrs. Gray, what do you mean?”
“That there is a Hun plot to cut the ground from under the Army of
Occupation, if I may put it that way. There is a big plot on foot here,
reaching out through many lines.”
“I know it, but that is about all I do know on the subject. If you
succeed in leading us to a solution of this problem you will have done
quite the biggest thing that has been done yet for the American Army of
Occupation. What do you know?”
“I know that it is part of the plan to burn down the barracks. Of
course the Huns do not wish to destroy Coblenz, but they are perfectly
willing to lose such buildings as the barracks. Then again, according
to Hun reasoning, the moral effect on the Army of Occupation will be of
great value.”
“The fools! They haven’t learned their lesson yet. You believe that
this attempt is to be made by short-circuiting the electric wires?”
“It may be. I should advise that the building be closely watched, even
to the extent of hiding watchers in the cellar, but you must be very
careful. Personally I hope you do not catch any one to-night, nor for
several nights, until I have completed my work. Of course I don’t mean
that you are to let a building burn down,” added Grace smilingly. “Are
you quite certain of Miss Marshall?”
“Yes! No doubt at all about her.”
Grace told him of what she had heard and seen on the other side of the
Rhine when she was on her way across to the American lines.
“Thank you!” he exclaimed after a brief reflection over what she told
him, but offered no further comment on the subject of the woman who
appeared to Grace to be playing a double game. “How long do you believe
it will take you to gather in the ends of the clues you have? I take it
that is what you mean?”
“That is it exactly, sir. Perhaps a day or two; perhaps longer. If
I make as much headway in the next twenty-four hours as I have done
in the last, I may be able to close my case in less time. Please be
careful how you communicate with me and never do so at my billet. What
do you know about Doctor Klein, my landlord? I wish to be certain about
what sort of a house I am living in. You see Miss Briggs and I being
alone makes some difference.”
The captain chuckled and stroked his chin, Grace regarding him
solemnly. The Intelligence officer understood in a way why she asked
the question.
“He is one of the finest Germans I know, Mrs. Gray, and that is much
for me to say about a Hun. I might say considerably more, but I am
going to let you work out your own problem. You will be surprised when
you get yourself set straight on this matter.”
“Thank you. I am sure I do not know what you mean. I will report
as soon as I have something further of a definite nature for you,”
promised Grace, rising to go to her work.
“Do you need assistance?”
“No, thank you. There are too many persons mixed up in this affair
already.”
“Clever woman! If you wish anything, let me know.”
“Well, sir, so long as you have made the offer, I do need some
assistance. If convenient I should like the loan of an auger.”
“A what?”
“Auger, sir, to bore holes with.”
“Are you in earnest?”
“I am, sir. I wish one about two inches in diameter if I can get it,
but if not I can use a smaller one. I should like to have a saw, but I
fear I cannot use it to advantage.”
“Are you thinking of building a house?” questioned the officer
whimsically.
“No, sir, but I am going to partially tear down one. When may I have
it?”
“Now. I will order it, or shall I send it to the canteen?”
“Neither, I think,” decided Grace after refection. “I think I shall
have some one call for it. Please see that it is well wrapped so
that no one can tell from the appearance of the package what is in
it. Good morning, sir. I must return to the canteen or I shall be in
difficulties,” she added laughingly, and saluting, walked out without
another word.