"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!
"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.
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.