Grace Harlowe with the American Army on the Rhine

“Humph! That is more than you did to-day,” grumbled J. Elfreda Briggs.

Half an hour later, after a final look into the steel mirror, Grace, accompanied by Miss Briggs, left the cellar and started for Captain Rowland’s headquarters, Grace having first pinned her croix de guerre and Distinguished Service Cross to her breast. She had neglected to wear them in the confusion of the start that morning, though being supposed to wear them at all times when in uniform.

CHAPTER III
THE IRON HAND

CAPTAIN ROWLAND sat at a table that had seen more prosperous days, and the camp chair that he was using creaked ominously. Elfreda Briggs feared that it was about to collapse under him, for the captain was not a slight man by any means.

Neither Overton girl had ever before met Captain Rowland, but they had heard of him as a severe man, cold and not always as just as were most of his fellow officers, so rumor had said.

Mrs. Smythe was seated on a camp stool just back of the captain, and with her was a young woman that Grace had never seen before, though she afterwards learned that the girl was Marie Debussy, a French woman, who, it appeared, was acting as the supervisor’s maid. Except for the lieutenant who had assisted Mrs. Smythe on the occasion of her rescue from the river, there were no others present.

“Are you Mrs. Grace Gray?” demanded the captain, fixing a stern look on Grace Harlowe.

“I am, sir.”

“What right have you to those decorations?” he demanded, pointing an accusing finger at her.

Grace for the instant was staggered. She found herself at a loss to answer.

“Sir?”

He repeated the question, but more sharply accentuated than before.

“With all respect, sir, your question carries with it an inference not at all creditable to me.”

Elfreda Briggs was proud of Grace. She could not have said it better herself, and being a lawyer, Elfreda ordinarily was quite equal to making the retort courteous.

The face of the army officer hardened, but before he could reply, Grace continued.

“The decorations, sir, were awarded to me, one by the commander-in-chief and the other by the French Government.”

“For what?”

“I have frequently asked myself that very same question, sir,” replied the Overton girl.

“This is a military inquiry, Mrs. Gray. You will answer my questions directly. Why were you awarded the decorations you are wearing?”

Grace’s face hardened ever so little, and Elfreda looked for an explosion, but none came.

“If you will pardon me, I must be excused from answering. The records will show why I am wearing them. General Gordon knows something of this matter. May I ask why you are pressing me on this point, sir?”

“You may. It has been said that you were wearing decorations to which you had no right. This is a very serious accusation, Madame.”

Grace caught her breath sharply.

“Then the person who told you that either was misinformed or was telling a malicious falsehood,” she declared with some heat, fixing a steady look on Mrs. Chadsey Smythe.

“You see, Captain! The woman is an impertinent creature,” interjected Mrs. Smythe.

The captain waved a hand for her to be silent.

“I will attend to that phase of the matter later on. You wrecked an automobile to-day and imperilled the lives of your passengers. I am informed that previous to the accident you had been driving recklessly, doing so with the intent to intimidate your passenger, and at the same time endangering other lives. Is this true?”

“I was driving rather fast, I will admit, sir.”

“Why?”

“Mrs. Smythe ordered me to do so, and accused me of being afraid to speed up, so I speeded up. That, however, had nothing to do with the accident. At the time of the crash I was following an officer’s car. A truck crowded me against the bridge railing. Understand, sir, I am not excusing myself. In a way I was not wholly blameless for the accident, because I was driving too fast for the crowded condition of the road. So far as intent was concerned, it is foolish to assume that there could have been anything of that sort. I had my own neck to consider as well as those of my passengers.”

“How fast were you driving?”

“About thirty-five miles an hour, I should say.”

“What experience have you had in driving a car?”

“I have been driving an ambulance on the western front for many months, sir. Previously to coming overseas I had been driving for several years. I consider myself a fairly successful driver.”

“I understand that you have had accidents before this one?”

“Naturally, sir. One cannot drive an ambulance at the front in wartime without having more or less trouble, as you know, and I cannot understand why so much should have been made of this accident by my superior. It was an accident, I was driving fast, but I deny most emphatically that I was careless or that a slower rate of speed would have prevented the collision.”

“Others will be the judge of that, Mrs. Gray,” rebuked the officer. “Mrs. Smythe makes a further charge against you. She asserts that, after you all fell into the river, you handled her roughly. Not only that but that you tried to drown her.”

“Mrs. Smythe is in error.”

“You held my head under water!” cried the supervisor.

“I was trying to rescue you, Mrs. Smythe, but you fought me, and to save you I was obliged first to subdue you. The accusation is preposterous. I am not a Hun. Are there any other charges, Captain?”

“I believe not. Those already named are quite sufficient. Mrs. Smythe, is there anything you wish to add to the statement you have already made?” questioned the captain.

“Yes, there is. I demand that this woman be dismissed from the service. She is unfit for our purposes, and I refuse to have anything further to do with her,” declared the supervisor heatedly.

Grace smiled down on her superior, but made no comment.

“That I cannot do,” answered the captain. “The most that I am empowered to do is to request her organization to withdraw her from your service. I should say, however, that such a request had best come from you. However, I agree with you that Mrs. Gray should be punished for what verges on criminal carelessness.”

“I should say it was criminal carelessness,” muttered the angry woman.

“What I can do is to relieve her from duty until – ”

“Sir,” interjected Grace Harlowe in an even tone, “as I understand the military law in the case, you have no authority to do even that. You can recommend, but you have no authority to go further. I shall be obliged to stand on my rights. I say this in no spirit of insubordination, and with full knowledge that I am responsible to the military authorities for my conduct. If it is your belief that I should be relieved from duty, I hope you will make the recommendation to your superior, who, in turn, can pass the recommendation on to a higher authority. By the time these formalities have been observed we undoubtedly shall have arrived at the Rhine, where a more formal hearing may be more conveniently held. I hope I have made myself perfectly clear both as to meaning and intent, sir.”

“Perfectly,” observed the captain sarcastically. “I agree with you in your interpretation of your rights in the case, and I shall, as you suggest, make my recommendations to my superior officer.”

“Thank you.”

“My recommendation will be that you be dismissed from service with the Army of Occupation and returned to your organization in Paris. That is all, Mrs. Gray. In the meantime you will proceed with your work as before. A car will be turned over to you to-morrow morning. That’s all!”

CHAPTER IV
A TIMELY MEETING

“GRACE HARLOWE, I am proud of you,” glowed Elfreda as they left the headquarters of Captain Rowland.

“You may not be if Mrs. Smythe has her way. She plainly has more or less influence in high places. You saw how thoroughly against me the captain was, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but he agreed with the soundness of your argument.”

“He had to. He knew I was right. What pleases me most of all is that I shall have the pleasure of driving Madame to-morrow. Beyond that I cannot say.”

“My legal training tells me that we should make some overtures in high places ourselves. You surely will not stand by and let the supervisor have her way?”

“Why not?”

“Could we reach Tom, who is somewhere in line on this march to the Rhine, he would be able to assist us,” reflected Elfreda.

Grace shook her head.

“Having gotten into this mess I shall get out of it of my own self, so possess your soul in peace, J. Elfreda. Here we are at our suburban home. I wonder who left the fagots for us? We have enough left for our morning tea, no matter what else happens.”

“Humph!” exclaimed Miss Briggs. “I should consider, were I in your place, that I had something of more importance to worry about. I’m going to bed. By the way, where did Madame get that wooden-faced maid of hers?”

Grace said she did not know, and would not even try to guess. The Overton girls soon were rolled in their blankets, and, despite the hard boards underneath them, went to sleep at once. They were used to hardships, and a little matter like a hard bed was not a thing to retard their sleep for many moments.

Grace was up at break of day next morning. After dressing she stepped out for a long breath of fresh, crisp air and a look about. There was activity all about her, and the smoke of rolling kitchens and the odor of cooking food was on the air. Glancing to the eastward and into the haze of the early morning, Grace Harlowe’s eyes dwelt momentarily on a little strip of forest about a quarter of a mile from her point of observation, then passed on.

A bird was rising from among the trees in the forest. She saw it circle and spiral, steadily rising higher and higher, finally setting out on a course to the eastward. Many times had the Overton girls seen pigeons bearing messages of great moment start out from the American lines, and what she had just witnessed was so much like the flight of a carrier pigeon that she could not believe it was not one. The difference that caused the doubt of her vision was that the pigeons she had seen in flight were always headed to the westward, while this one was flying east.

“There goes another!” exclaimed Grace. “This doesn’t look right.”

Three birds in all arose, circled and soared to the eastward while she stood watching. Grace wondered what it could mean, there now being no doubt in her mind that she had witnessed the flight of war pigeons. Returning to the cellar, she awakened Miss Briggs, told her to get up and make the tea, started the fire and went out with the mess kits to fetch their breakfast.

Breakfast was rather hurried, as Grace knew she would have to look for the car that she was to drive that morning, and that operation undoubtedly would consume some little time. It did. She was sent from officer to officer before she found the one who was to assign a car to her, and even then she had difficulty in obtaining possession of the vehicle. At last she succeeded in getting it, and lost no time in getting away with the machine before it should be grabbed by some one else.

Pulling up before their cellar she jumped out and ran down to assist in loading aboard their belongings.

“All aboard for the River Rhine, Elfreda,” she called cheerily. “We are going to enjoy this drive, I know. The air is fine.”

“I can’t say as much for the water in this neck of the woods. That water yesterday was beastly. Don’t you dare give me another such a bath, Grace Harlowe,” warned Elfreda.

“No, I’m determined to be good to-day and not do a thing to rile our supervisor. You shall see how nice I can be to her. Come, we must get ready.”

A few moments later they pulled up before Mrs. Smythe’s cellar and sat waiting for her to appear, after having given a few discreet honks on the horn. When the supervisor emerged with her maid and Miss O’Leary, her face wore a hard expression that had not been there before.

Grace, jumping out, opened the car door for her, slammed it shut after the passengers were in, and saluted snappily.

“Does not Miss Cahill ride with us to-day?” she questioned.

“Carry on as you are!” commanded Mrs. Smythe.

“Very good,” answered the Overton girl, climbing to her seat.

“Just a moment,” commanded the supervisor. “You are to drive slowly to-day. At the first indication of recklessness or the slightest disobedience of orders I shall call an officer to place you under arrest for insubordination. Do you get me clearly?”

“I get you quite clearly, Madame,” answered Grace smilingly. “What speed – three, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty or forty miles?”

“You know what I mean. I ordered you to drive slowly.”

Grace swung into the highway and started off at a speed of about five miles an hour, but she had not gone far ere the rasping voice of her superior ordered her to drive, not creep.

The speed of the car was increased to ten miles an hour, but beyond this the Overton girl would not go, despite the insistent demands of Mrs. Smythe. Finally exasperated beyond measure, Grace stopped the car at the side of the road and faced her supervisor.

“Perhaps, Madame, you would prefer to have Miss Briggs drive the car?”

“No, thank you,” spoke up Elfreda.

“Are you a safe driver?” demanded Mrs. Smythe.

“Very, but I am not a skilled driver.”

“Take the wheel. You can do no worse than the present driver.”

“I will settle with you for this later,” muttered J. Elfreda in a low voice to her companion. “I call this a low-down trick. I probably shall turn you all over in the ditch.”

“Go as far as you like,” answered Grace, getting out to enable Elfreda to take the driver’s seat. Miss Briggs fumbled, stalled the car, but after a few back-fires succeeded in getting under way, the passenger growing more and more irritable as the moments passed.

Elfreda shot ahead with a jolt that brought a torrent of abuse from the supervisor, and narrowly missed smashing into an officer’s car ahead. A few rods further on, in attempting to dodge an army truck, J. Elfreda Briggs came to grief. One of the rear wheels of the army automobile slipped from the road into a shallow ditch, the wheels sank into the soft mud and the car began to settle, threatening every second to turn over on its side. Grace snapped off the spark and silenced the motors, her quick action saving them from a bad spill. Elfreda had wholly lost her head.

“Drive out, drive out!” cried Mrs. Smythe.

“I – I can’t,” gasped Miss Briggs. “The wheels will go around but the car won’t move. What shall I do?”

“We must all get out,” directed Grace.

Just then a car slipped past them and brought up abruptly. Grace observed that it was an officer’s car, but beyond that gave no heed. A second or so later she saw two men get out and walk back toward them.

“I thought I recognized you when we passed, Mrs. Gray,” called a familiar voice. “Are you in need of assistance?”

“Why, Colonel Gordon – I mean General Gordon,” corrected Grace, flushing. “I am glad to see you and glad of the opportunity to congratulate you on your promotion.”

“You are no more delighted to see me than I am to meet you again. I believe this is Miss Briggs, isn’t it? Mrs. Gray and Miss Briggs, meet Captain Boucher of the Intelligence Department.”

The general and the captain shook hands cordially with both Overton girls, the general giving a quick, comprehensive glance at the occupants of the rear seats, and nodding ever so slightly. Grace did not offer to introduce either to the supervisor.

“Mrs. Gray is the young woman who saved my life in the Argonne, Captain. I could tell you a lot more about her, but I know it would embarrass her if I did. Miss Briggs, I did not know that you drove.”

“I don’t,” answered J. Elfreda rather abruptly.

“Oh, yes she does,” insisted Grace. “At least she has just driven us into a ditch. Miss Briggs learned to drive immediately after the armistice was signed, but in doing so she smashed up two army cars and ran over a major. She will soon be up to my record. My latest exploit, General, was trying conclusions with the concrete railing of a bridge yesterday. The bridge won and we all went into the river.”

“Was that your car that I saw hanging over the edge of a bridge near Etain, Mrs. Gray?”

“Yes, sir, that was the car.”

Mrs. Smythe who had been controlling her emotions with some success, now interjected herself into the conversation.

“General, I think I have met you. I am Mrs. Chadsey Smythe, in command of the welfare workers of – ”

The general and the captain saluted, smiled and turned back to Grace.

“That was not the worst of it,” resumed Grace. “I had with me my supervisor, a somewhat irritable person. She went into the river with the rest of us, and of course I went to her rescue and, with the assistance of some doughboys, got her out. My supervisor was not a grateful person – she accused me of trying to drown her.”

The officers laughed heartily.

“That surely was a good joke, Mrs. Gray,” observed the general, regarding her quizzically.

J. Elfreda Briggs had forgotten her own troubles in her delight at the trend of the conversation.

“Let us have the rest of the story. You will pardon us for reminiscing, Mrs. Smythe,” begged the general, observing the angry look on the face of the supervisor. “Listen, Captain. The worst is yet to come. I know Mrs. Gray.”

“There is not much more to relate,” continued Grace smilingly. “I had been driving in a way that did not please my supervisor and she was thoroughly angry with me on that account, and not wholly without reason, for I was going too fast for the crowded condition of the road. Well, the result of all this was that she made complaint against me and I was called before an officer for a hearing.”

“Eh? What’s that?” demanded the general.

“Yes, sir. I was accused of reckless driving and with intent to drown my superior officer.”

“The woman accused you of that?”

“Yes, sir.”

The two officers laughed heartily.

“Ridiculous!” exclaimed the general. “Was the woman suffering from shell shock or was it a chronic condition with her?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” answered Grace meekly. “As I have already said, I was called before a captain, who among other things questioned me sharply about the decorations I wore, the intimation being that I had no right to them. Of course I do not know who suggested the thought to him. I declined to discuss the matter, taking the liberty of saying to him that General Gordon was familiar with the circumstances of at least one of my decorations.”

“I should say so. Who was the officer?”

“Captain Rowland of the Forty-Ninth, sir.”

“Ah! Please proceed.”

“The captain was of the opinion that I should be punished and was for dismissing me from the army and sending me back to Paris, until I took the liberty of pointing out to him that he had no authority to do so, that he could make recommendations, but had not the power to enforce in this instance.”

“You were right. What were his recommendations?”

“That I be dismissed and sent back to my organization.”

“Thank you. I am glad you told me the story. It is most interesting, I assure you. Mrs. Gray, it was on my urgent recommendation that you were directed to join this march and go with us to the Rhine. Having done so I shall make it my business to see to it that a crazy woman and a misinformed officer do not interfere with my plans. I will discuss this matter with you further later on. Captain, do you mind ordering some men to place this car back in the road?”

CHAPTER V
GRACE WINS AND IS SORRY

THE general saluted and stepped away, and in a moment or so a squad of soldiers ran to the car.

“All hands out, please,” called Grace. “No need to have them lift us with the car.”

Up to this time J. Elfreda had not dared permit herself to catch Grace’s eye, knowing very well that were she to do so she would laugh. Perhaps “Captain” Grace was of the same opinion regarding her own emotions, so she avoided Elfreda’s eyes. The men quickly boosted the car back into the road.

“Take the wheel and make a fresh start, Elfreda,” directed Grace, after thanking the doughboys.

“I beg most respectfully to be excused. Mrs. Smythe, I ask to be relieved from driving. An empty road and a wide one is the only safe place for me to experiment. May I turn the wheel over to Mrs. Gray?”

The supervisor half nodded. She was dazed, at least she appeared to be so, and had not a word to say. At least two of her companions in the car found themselves wondering what her thoughts were at that moment. After a little Elfreda ventured to speak.

“How wide and expansive the morning is,” she observed.

“Very,” agreed Grace. “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I agree with you.”

A great silence hovered over the army automobile, so far as the rear seat was concerned, though eventually Grace and Elfreda fell to discussing army matters of a general nature. At noon they halted for mess, then proceeded on at slow speed, for they were close up to the engineers, who were following the advance column to examine roads for mines and repair them where necessary.

Thus far not a gun had been fired, though at any moment a blast was looked for by every one in the Third Army. Airplanes were constantly buzzing overhead, observation balloons were continuously on watch in the skies, and every precaution was being taken to guard against a surprise. That night their bedroom again was in a cellar, and once more Won Lue brought them fagots and water.

They had left Mrs. Chadsey Smythe at the cellar that had been assigned to her. Miss Cahill arrived at about the same time on an army truck and shared the cellar with Madame, Miss O’Leary and the maid, Marie Debussy.

“Grace Harlowe, I take off my hat to you,” Elfreda exclaimed, throwing off her cap and blouse. “Chad got her deserts that time, but, woman, look out for her. Revenge is as sweet to her as it is to you.”

“Revenge is not sweet to me,” objected Grace. “I am so sorry that I turned the tables on her as I did, but it was an opportunity that I could not miss. At least it served one useful purpose; Madame did not speak to me all the rest of the day. What a heavenly relief. Do you suppose the general knew who she was?”

“He may have known who she was, but I do not believe he understood that she was the woman to whom you referred. I hope the general doesn’t find out that he was abusing the woman to her face,” Elfreda chuckled.

“He will learn it the first time I see him. I feel that I did an inexcusable thing in drawing him into the muss as I did. I am always doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“It is war,” reminded Elfreda. “Ah! Here comes our friend the Chinaman. Good evening, Won. What is it?”

“Plenty fline apple,” he answered, emptying out full two quarts of red apples from a gas mask bag.

“Oh, isn’t that fine,” glowed Elfreda. “I haven’t had an apple since I left America. Grace, what do you think of that?”

“I think Won must have found an orchard in a cellar somewhere. Thank you ever so much. Why do you do so many nice things for us?”

“Nicee lady, a-la. Missie see nicee birdie fly fly away?” Won accompanied the words with a wink and knowing smirk.

“What do you mean?” demanded Grace, regarding him narrowly.

For answer Won formed a spiral in the air with one hand, raising the hand a little higher with each circle, then sending the hand flitting through the air in imitation of a bird’s flight.

Grace caught the meaning instantly.

“Oh, you mean a bird?”

“Les. Plidgin bird. Him fly, a-la. Missie see plidgin fly.”

“Did you see it, Won?”

“Me savvy. Me see.”

“Do you know where they came from, where they were going or who sent them? Understand me?”

“Not know. Plenty blad man. Mebby Chinaman blad man.”

“Why do you tell me, then?”

“Missie no like blad man, no likee plidgin go so,” pointing to the east.

“Thank you. I understand. You must keep watch, Won, and let me know who is making the ‘plidgin fly-fly.’”

Won nodded and chuckled, then shaking hands with himself, trotted away without another word.

“What was that wild heathen talking about?” demanded Elfreda. “You appeared to understand perfectly what he was getting at, but I couldn’t make a single thing out of it.”

“He was trying to convey to me that something bad is going on in the Third Army.”

“What is the something?”

“Perhaps I shall be able to tell you about that later. Won is a wise Chinaman. He knew that I knew something was going on and wished to let me know he was on our side. I don’t believe many of the Orientals in the labor battalion are in the same class with our friend. To change the subject, do you know I feel sorry for that poor little Marie Debussy. The half dumb way she looks at you is almost heart-breaking. Mrs. Smythe must make her life miserable. When we get to the Rhine we must try to do something for the girl. Did you observe that Miss Cahill came through on a camion to-day?”

“Yes, I observed it.”

“Mrs. Smythe evidently did not propose to be so crowded.”

“No, she wished to be free to jump if you hit another bridge,” declared Elfreda.

Supper was attended with the same smoke-screen as had happened at the meal of the previous evening, but they enjoyed their mess and chatted and teased each other until it was time to turn in.

Grace was up at daybreak again, but did not awaken her companion. The morning was very chill, but the air was clear, and Grace with her binoculars surveyed the surrounding country as well as she could in the half light of the early morning, appearing to be especially interested in every clump of trees within the range of her vision.

Day was just dawning when she discovered that of which she was in search, a pigeon rising into the air from a field quite a distance to the southward. As on the previous occasion the pigeon flew east, and was followed at regular intervals by two others.

There could be no doubt about it now. War pigeons were being sent toward the enemy country, though Grace was not at all certain that it was enemy agents who were doing the sending. In any event it was a matter that should be reported, which the Overton girl determined to do that very day.

Without saying anything to her companion of what she had observed, Grace ate her breakfast, and asking Elfreda to clean up and pack up, set out for Mrs. Smythe’s headquarters. The supervisor was just eating her breakfast. Her face flushed as she saw who her visitor was, but she spoke no word, merely stared.

“I have come, Mrs. Smythe, for two reasons; first, to ask what your orders are for the day; secondly, to tell you I am sorry that I gave way to my inclinations yesterday and related the story of our trouble to the general. I ordinarily fight my own battles. You must admit, however, that I had very excellent reasons for feeling as I did toward you.”

“You insulted and humiliated me!” cried the supervisor, suddenly finding speech.

“And you also have insulted and humiliated me,” replied Grace. “It is my feeling that you were well entitled to all that you received, but my regret is that I permitted myself to be the instrument of the rebuke. You are my superior. I am at all times ready to take and obey any reasonable orders that you may give me. However, we must understand each other. My self-respect will not permit me to remain silent under such tongue-lashings as you have been indulging in. It must cease, Mrs. Smythe!”

“You – you are telling me, your commanding officer, what I must do?” demanded the woman, exercising more than ordinary self-restraint.

“No, not that, Mrs. Smythe. What I am seeking to do is to convince you that it will not be advisable for the peace of mind of either of us for you to continue your unkind treatment of me.”

“And, in the event that I decide to do as I please in all matters relating to your official duties, what then?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders.

“Attention!”

Grace smiled sweetly.

“The regulations do not require me to salute a superior when that superior is seated, without head covering and with blouse unbuttoned. Neither do the regulations require that I shall come to attention in such circumstances. This is not an official call and I do not expect you to receive me as such, therefore you must expect no more of me. I am here as woman to woman to ask that you treat me like a human being, and then to ask your forgiveness for my questionable revenge of to-day. Even the Huns have signed an armistice and agreed to cease fighting. Surely you and I as good Americans should be able to settle our differences by declaring an armistice; and you may rest assured that I shall do my part toward preserving the peace. What are your feelings on the matter and your orders for the day, please?”

“Driver, my feelings are my own. You came here with the deliberate intention of further insulting me.”

“I am sincerely sorry that you look at it in that light. I know you will not feel that way after you have thought over what I have said.”

“Have you anything further to say, driver? If so, say it and have done, for it will be your last opportunity.”

“Only to ask again for orders, Mrs. Smythe,” replied Grace sweetly.

“My orders are that you get out of my sight instantly!” The supervisor rose, buttoned her blouse to the throat and put on her cap. “Go!” she commanded, pointing to the cellar opening.

Grace Harlowe clicked her heels together and snapped into a salute, then executing a right-about, marched from the cellar and back to her own headquarters under a ruined cottage.