Grace Harlowe with the American Army on the Rhine

“Yours lovingly, Emma.”

Grace sat back and laughed until the tears came, laughed until she was interrupted by a cry from the doorway. It was Elfreda, but instead of throwing herself into Grace’s arms, J. Elfreda stood off and surveyed her with disapproving eyes.

“Grace Harlowe Gray, you surely are a sight. I am not at all surprised. What does make me marvel is that you have come back at all. Tell me about it. Have you been crying? Your eyes are red.”

“I have been laughing. I have a letter from Emma.”

“Enough said. Tell me the story. You were a prisoner, I understand.”

“A sort of prisoner. No, I was not hit with a bullet, but with a stone. The Huns are such gentle creatures. The state of my clothing is due to the fact that I got mixed up with a vineyard when I came down in the parachute. I suppose you had your information from Major Colt?”

“Yes. I have a lot of other information too; but that will keep until I hear your story.”

Grace, to save time, told the story from the time they left the ground in the sausage balloon right down to the moment when she got back into the American lines.

“What do you propose to do next for thrills?” demanded Elfreda finally.

“I am not looking for thrills. I am in hope that I shall be permitted to go back home before very long – that is, if Tom goes.”

“He won’t. They are planted here for months to come, provided we do not go on into the enemy country.”

“How is Mrs. Smythe?” Grace smiled.

“No change. I understand from her that you are to be placed on canteen work, drawing hot chocolate and the like. She will have you mopping out the place next. Chad is in a rage most of the time, except when her latest friend is with her. Oh, I didn’t tell you about that. The day before you went over by the air route, a most charming young lady appeared on the scene. Mrs. Smythe said it was a very old friend of hers of the name of Molly Marshall. I don’t know who she is or how she got into the lines, but I have been told by those who ought to know, that she is an American woman who has been a prisoner of the Germans; that she got by the German sentries and reached our lines after suffering all sorts of hardships. She doesn’t look the part, I am free to say.”

Grace was interested at once.

“You are suspicious of her, Elfreda?” she demanded.

“Of course I am. I am suspicious of any one who takes up with Chad. I don’t know where Molly is to-day. I haven’t seen her since last evening. She is billeted with Chad.”

“Where does Mrs. Smythe live?”

Elfreda regarded her frowningly.

“I forgot that you had been in the air so long. Chad occupies the front room on this floor. We are all in the house together, but if trouble doesn’t make us wish we weren’t, I shall be much mistaken. Won Lue comes over to ask about you. He appears to have something on his mind. Have you any idea what it is?”

“Plidgins,” answered Grace laughingly. “What is it you suspect about this woman Marshall?”

“I do not suspect her any more than I do some other persons. I am beginning to believe that our supervisor isn’t as loyal to the cause as she might be. That feeling has been strengthened since Miss Marshall appeared so mysteriously.”

“Elfreda, you know how I feel toward Mrs. Smythe, but for all that I must stand up for her. With all her faults she is an American. Her presence at the front is sufficient evidence of that to satisfy me as to her loyalty. As I have said before, she is a vain and jealous woman, a fair type of the newly rich. As for the other woman, I hope to see her and form my own opinion of her. I think the Intelligence Department is considerably disturbed over spy activities. There is something else going on here too, though I haven’t yet learned what it is. I have some queer fancies in the back of my head, Elfreda, and – ”

“You always did have.”

“They are not yet sufficiently clarified to make it prudent for me to speak of them, but remember what I have said. Some day I shall tell you the story that I now warn you of. Whose house is this?”

“It is occupied by a Doctor Klein, a scientific, studious-appearing fellow, and apparently very friendly to Americans. He says the Germans have been in the wrong in this war and – ”

“I should be suspicious of that man, Elfreda. Either he is not a German or else he isn’t telling the truth. What is the attitude of the people of Coblenz?”

“Some appear to be afraid of the Americans, while others – these are in the majority – are sullen. The situation appears to me to be very tense, likely to result in an explosion at any moment. There are very few German men of military age here. I think our people are treating the inhabitants very leniently.”

“That is a mistake,” declared Grace with emphasis. “Mark me, the Huns can’t understand and appreciate humane treatment. They will take advantage of that attitude, believing that the Americans are afraid of them. Then we shall have to put pressure on them, and that will cause more trouble than were we to be severe with them now at the outset. I must get about and see what the lay of the land is.”

“You keep out of it, Loyalheart; that is my advice to you. Haven’t you had enough yet?”

“No, I never shall until my country has no further use for my services, my dear. When that time comes, I shall be ready to settle down to the simple life in beautiful Haven Home and enjoy a real home-life with Tom and my beautiful adopted daughter. Elfreda, that child is entwining herself about my heartstrings more and more as time goes on.”

“She is doing the same thing to me,” declared Elfreda. “You will have to divide her with me – I mean share her with me, Grace. I am as much her mother as you are, am I not?”

“You are, of course, though my claim is a prior claim, which you as a lawyer must recognize.” They had a hearty laugh over this.

It was late in the afternoon when Grace went out, first having knocked on Mrs. Smythe’s door but receiving no response. Grace inquired her way to the canteen, looking in the shop windows as she passed, enjoying the sight of stores once more. There were few of these left in rural France where she had been, and those that were left ordinarily bore the marks of shell fire.

The supervisor was not at the canteen where Grace understood she was to be stationed, but Marie Debussy, the supervisor’s maid, was there and at work. Grace greeted her cordially and the girl appeared equally glad to see Grace.

“How is Madame behaving?” she questioned.

“There is no change, but I am here most of the time and do not see so much of her.”

“You are satisfied here then, Marie?”

“Oh, yes, it will do. The war will soon be over and I shall go back to my beloved France. Bah! These Germans! I like them not.”

“None of us do, Marie. Is Miss Marshall with Madame?” asked Grace carelessly. Marie gave her a quick glance, a keener glance than Grace had ever seen from those eyes, after which the eyes lapsed into their former dullness.

“I have not seen her since yesterday. I do not know. Do you know her?”

Grace said she did not, and giving Marie a smile, stepped behind the counter and began her work as a canteen server. It was not the free life of the ambulance driver, but it was service, and Grace Harlowe was satisfied. But there was plenty of excitement ahead of her, even though life moved on in Coblenz much the same as before and during the war. Shopkeepers were overcharging the American soldiers, others were robbing them, and the situation was lax to an extent that disturbed Grace Harlowe.

She said as much to Major Colt, who called at the canteen that evening to see her, and he agreed with the Overton girl, but said that the American officers were awakening to the possibilities and that something would be done. The major told Grace of his experience with the Germans after they dragged him from the Rhine, she in turn relating her own. He told of having seen her signal and of reading the message, and he was filled with admiration for Grace’s resourcefulness and cleverness.

“I told Captain Boucher about that. He declared that you ought to be in the Secret Service and that he was going to have you there if his advice prevailed with those higher up. How would you like that?”

“Not at all,” answered Grace smilingly. “Is the captain still disturbed over the activities of spies with the Army of Occupation?”

Major Colt flashed a quick glance at her.

“So, you do know about it, eh?”

“Perhaps I may have surmised some things, sir – and I know the Hun and his ways rather well,” she added. “May I ask you, sir, if you know a Miss Marshall who entered camp the day before we went up?”

“No. I have heard of her. Why?”

“Just a woman’s curiosity.”

“I would suggest that you ask Captain Boucher about that. You will be somewhat amazed at what he will tell you – if he tells you anything,” laughed the officer. “There’s a real mystery for you, eh?”