A FONT OF TYPE
Mary Louise went into Josie O'Gorman's room and found the young girl
bent over a table on which were spread the disloyal circulars.
"You've been studying those things for nearly two weeks, Josie," she
said. "Have you made any discoveries?"
"I know a lot more about the circulars than I did," answered Josie.
"For instance, there are nineteen printing offices in Dorfield, and
only two of them have this kind of type."
"Oh, that's something, indeed!" cried Mary Louise. "One of the two
offices must have printed the circulars."
"No; the curious fact is that neither printed them," returned Josie,
regarding the circulars with a frown.
"How do you know?"
"It's an old style of type, not much in use at present," explained the
youthful detective. "In one printing office the case that contains this
type face hasn't been used for months and months. I found all the
compartments covered with dust a quarter of an inch thick. There wasn't
a trace of the type having been disturbed. I proved this by picking out
a piece of type, which scattered the dust and brought to light the
shining bodies of the other type in that compartment. So the circulars
could never have been printed from that case of type."
"But the other printing office?"
"Well, there they had a font of the same style of type, which is
occasionally used in job printing; but it's a small font and has only
twenty-four small a's. I rummaged the whole shop, and found none of the
type standing, out of the case. Another thing, they had only three
capital G's, and one of those was jammed and damaged. In the last
circular issued, no less than seven capital G's appear. In the first
one sent out I find fifty-eight small a's. All this convinces me the
circulars were issued from no regular printing office."
"Then how did it get printed?" asked Mary Louise.
"That's what puzzles me," confessed Josie. "Three of the four big
manufacturing concerns here have outfits and do their own printing--or
part of it, anyhow--and I don't mind saying I expected to find my clue
in one of those places, rather than in a regular printing office. But
I've made an exhaustive search, aided by the managers, and there's no
type resembling that used in the circulars in any of the private print
shops. In fact, I'm up a stump!"
"But why do you attach so much importance to this matter?" queried Mary
Louise.
"It's the most direct route to the traitor. Find who printed the
circulars and you've got your hand on the man who wrote and mailed
them. But the printing baffles me, and so I've started another line of
investigation."
"What line is that, Josie?"
"The circular envelopes were addressed by hand, with pen and ink. The
ink is a sort in common use. The envelopes are an ordinary commercial
kind. The circulars are printed on half a sheet of letter-size
typewriting paper, sold in several stationery store in large
quantities. No clue there. But the handwriting is interesting. It's
disguised, of course, and the addressing was done by two different
people--that's plain."
"You are wonderful, Josie!"
"I'm stupid as a clam, Mary Louise. See here!" she went to a closet and
brought out a large card-board box, which she placed upon the table. It
was filled to the brim with envelopes, addressed to many business firms
in Dorfield, but all bearing the local postmark. "Now, I've been days
collecting these envelopes," continued the girl, "and I've studied them
night after night. I'm something of a handwriting expert, you know, for
that is one of the things that Daddy has carefully taught me. These
envelopes came from all sorts of people--folks making inquiries, paying
bills, ordering goods, and the like. I've had an idea from the first
that some prominent person--no ordinary man--is responsible for the
circulars. They're well worded, grammatical, and the malicious
insinuations are cleverly contrived to disconcert the loyal but weak
brethren. However, these envelopes haven't helped me a bit. Neither of
the two persons who addressed the envelopes of the circulars addressed
any of these business envelopes. Of that I'm positive."
"Dear me," said Mary Louise, surprised, "I'd no idea you'd taken so
much trouble, Josie."
"Well, I've undertaken a rather puzzling case, my dear, and it will
mean more trouble than you can guess, before I've solved it. This
pro-German scoundrel is clever; he suspected that he'd be investigated
and has taken every precaution to prevent discovery. Nevertheless, the
cleverest criminal always leaves some trace behind him, if one can
manage to find it, so I'm not going to despair at this stage of the
game."
"Do you know," said Mary Louise thoughtfully, "I've had an idea that
there's some connection between the explosion at the airplane works and
the sender of these circulars."
Josie gave her a queer look.
"What connection do you suspect?" she asked quickly.
"Why, the man who wrote those circulars would not stop at any crime to
harass the government and interfere with the promotion of the war."
"Is that as far as you've gone?"
"Have you gone any farther, Josie?"
"A step, Mary Louise. It looks to me as if there is an organized band
of traitors in Dorfield. No one person is responsible for it all.
Didn't I say two different people addressed the circulars in disguised
handwriting? Now, a bomb has to be constructed, and placed, and timed,
and I don't credit any one person with handling such a job and at the
same time being aware that the utmost damage to the War Department's
plans would be accomplished by blowing up the airplane works. That
argues intelligent knowledge of national and local affairs. There may
be but two conspirators, and there may be more, but the more there are,
the easier it will be for me to discover them."
"Naturally," agreed Mary Louise. "But, really, Josie, I don't see how
you're going to locate a clue that will guide you. Have you attended
the trial of those suspected of the bomb outrage?"
"I've seen all the testimony. There isn't a culprit in the whole bunch.
The real criminal is not even suspected, as yet," declared Josie. "The
federal officers know this, and are just taking things easy and making
the trials string out, to show they're wide awake. Also I've met two
secret service men here--Norman Addison and old Jim Crissey. I know
nearly all of the boys. But they haven't learned anything important,
either."
"Are these men experienced detectives?"
"They've done some pretty good work, but nothing remarkable. In these
times the government is forced to employ every man with any experience
at all, and Crissey and Addison are just ordinary boys, honest and
hard-working, but not especially talented. Daddy would have discovered
something in twenty-four hours; but Daddy has been sent abroad, for
some reason, and there are many cases of espionage and sabotage fully
as important as this, in this spy-infested land. That's why poor Josie
O'Gorman is trying to help the government, without assignment or
authority. If I succeed, however, I'll feel that I have done my bit."
"Don't you get discouraged, dear, at times?"
"Never! Why, Mary Louise, discouragement would prove me a dub. I'm
puzzled, though, just now, and feeling around blindly in the dark to
grab a thread that may lead me to success. If I have luck, presently
I'll find it."
She put away the envelopes, as she spoke, and resuming her seat drew
out her tablets and examined the notes she had made thereon. Josie used
strange characters in her memoranda, a sort of shorthand she had
herself originated and which could be deciphered only by her father or
by herself.
"Here's a list of suspects," she said. "Not that they're necessarily
connected with our case, but are known to indulge in disloyal
sentiments. Hal Grober, the butcher, insists on selling meat on
meatless days and won't defer to the wishes of Mr. Hoover, whom he
condemns as a born American but a naturalized Englishmen. He's another
Jake Kasker, too noisy to be guilty of clever plotting."
"They're both un-American!" exclaimed Mary Louise. "There ought to be a
law to silence such people, Josie."
"Don't worry, my dear; they'll soon be silenced," predicted her friend.
"Either better judgment will come to their aid or the federal courts
will get after them. We shouldn't allow anyone to throw stones at the
government activities, just at this crisis. They may _think_ what they
please, but must keep their mouths shut."
"I'm sorry they can even think disloyalty," said Mary Louise.
"Well, even that will be remedied in time," was the cheerful response.
"No war more just and righteous was ever waged than this upon which our
country has embarked, and gradually that fact will take possession of
those minds, which, through prejudice, obstinacy or ignorance, have not
yet grasped it. I'm mighty proud of my country, Mary Louise, and I
believe this war is going to give us Americans a distinction that will
set us up in our own opinion and in the eyes of the world. But always
there is a willful objection, on the part of some, toward any good and
noble action, and we must deal charitably with these deluded ones and
strive to win them to an appreciation of the truth."
"Isn't that carrying consideration too far?" asked Mary Louise.
"No. Our ministers are after the unregenerates, not after the godly.
The noblest act of humanity is to uplift a fellow creature. Even in our
prisons we try to reform criminals, to make honest men of them rather
than condemn them to a future of crime. It would be dreadful to say:
'You're _all_ yellow; go to thunder!'"
"Yes; I believe you're right," approved the other girl. "That is, your
theory is correct, but the wicked sometimes refuse to reform."
"Usually the fault of the reformers, my dear. But suppose we redeem a
few of them, isn't it worth while? Now, let me see. Here's a washwoman
who says the Kaiser is a gentleman, and a street-car driver who says
it's a rich man's war. No use bothering with such people in our present
state of blind groping. And here's the list that you, yourself, gave to
me: One Silas Herring, a wholesale grocer. I'm going to see him. He's a
big, successful man, and being opposed to the administration is
dangerous. Herring is worth investigating, and with him is associated
Professor John Dyer, superintendent of schools."
"Oh, Professor Dyer is all right," said Mary Louise hastily. "It was he
who helped bring Mr. Herring to time, and afterward he took Gran'pa
Jim's place on the Bond Committee and solicited subscriptions."
"Did he get any?"
"Any what?"
"Subscriptions."
"--I believe so. Really, I don't know."
"Well, _I_ know," said Josie, "for I've inspected the records. Your
professor--who, by the way, is only a professor by courtesy and a
politician by profession--worked four days on the bond sale and didn't
turn in a single subscription. He had a lot of wealthy men on his list
and approached them in such a manner that they all positively declined
to buy bonds. Dyer's activities kept these men from investing in bonds
when, had they been properly approached, they would doubtless have
responded freely."
"Good gracious! Are you sure, Josie?"
"I'm positive. I've got a cross opposite the name of Professor John
Dyer, and I'm going to know more about him--presently. His bosom chum
is the Honorable Andrew Duncan, a man with an honest Scotch name but
only a thirty-second or so of Scotch blood in his veins. His mother was
a German and his grandmother Irish and his greatgrandmother a Spanish
gipsy."
"How did you learn all that, Josie?"
"By making inquiries. Duncan was born in Dorfield and his father was
born in the county. He's a typical American--a product of the great
national melting-pot--but no patriot because he has no sympathy for any
of the European nations at war, or even with the war aims of his native
land. He's a selfish, scheming, unprincipled politician; an
office-holder ever since he could vote; a man who would sacrifice all
America to further his own personal ends."
"Then, you think Mr. Duncan may--might be--is--"
"No," said Josie, "I don't. The man might instigate a crime and
encourage it, in a subtle and elusive way, but he's too shrewd to
perpetrate a crime himself. I wouldn't be surprised if Duncan could
name the man--or the band of traitors--we're looking for, if he chose
to, but you may rest assured he has not involved his own personality in
any scheme to balk the government."
"I can't understand that sort of person," said Mary. Louise,
plaintively.
"It's because you haven't studied the professional politician. He has
been given too much leeway heretofore, but his days, I firmly believe,
are now numbered," Josie answered. "Now, here's my excuse for
investigating Silas Herring and his two cronies, Dyer and Duncan. All
three of them happen to be political bosses in this section. It is
pretty generally known that they are not in sympathy with President
Wilson and the administration. They are shrewd enough to know that the
popularity of the war and the President's eloquent messages have
carried the country by storm. So they cannot come right out into the
open with their feelings. At the same time, they can feel themselves
losing control of the situation. In fact, the Herring gang is fearful
that at the coming elections they will be swept aside and replaced with
out-and-out loyal supporters of the President. So they're going to try
to arouse sentiment against the administration and against the war, in
order to head off the threatened landslide. Dyer hoped to block the
sale of Liberty Bonds, blinding folks to his intent by subscribing for
them himself; but you girls foiled that scheme by your enthusiastic
'drive.' What the other conspirators have done, I don't know, but I
imagine their energies will not be squelched by one small defeat. I
don't expect to land any of the three in jail, but I think they all
ought to be behind the bars, and if I shadow them successfully, one or
the other may lead me to their tools or confederates--the ones directly
guilty of issuing the disloyal circulars and perhaps of placing the
bomb that damaged the airplane works and murdered some of its
employes."
Mary Louise was pale with horror when Josie finished her earnest and
convincing statement. She regarded her friend's talent with profound
admiration. Nevertheless, the whole matter was becoming so deep, so
involved that she could only think of it with a shudder.
"I'm almost sorry," said the girl, regretfully, "that I ever mixed up
in this dreadful thing."
"I'm not sorry," returned Josie. "Chasing traitors isn't the
pleasantest thing in the world, even for a regular detective, but it's
a duty I owe my country and I'm sufficiently interested to probe the
affair to the extent of my ability. If I fail, nothing is lost, and if
I win I'll have done something worth while. Here's another name on the
list of suspects you gave me--Annie Boyle, the hotel-keeper's
daughter."
"Don't bother about Annie, for goodness' sake," exclaimed Mary Louise.
"She hasn't the brains or an opportunity to do any harm, so you'd
better class her with Kasker and the butcher."
But Josie shook her head.
"There's a cross opposite her name," said she. "I don't intend to
shuffle Annie Boyle into the discard until I know more about her."