PS 3507 
 
 .0732 
 |C8 
 
 1919 
 
 Copy 1 
 
 THE GUISE 
 
 OF THL 
 
 ENEMY 
 
 BY 
 JAMES L DORAN 
 
The Guise of the Lnemy 
 
 A Patriotic Play in Five Acts 
 
 DtPICTlNG THE. WORK OF GERMAN 
 AGLNT5 WITHIN OUR OWN LAND 
 DURING THE RECENT WORLD WAR 
 
 BY 
 JAME.5 L DORAN 
 
 COLUMBUS, OHIO 
 
 THE F. J. HEER PRINTING COMPANY 
 
 1919 
 
^cTd 53061. 
 
 ^UV i 1 liJia 
 
 A 
 
 ^' 
 
 
CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 MRS. CAWLS, Matron, who chaperones a party of girls at the seashore, 
 
 a kind and loving lady. 
 GIRLS who are spending the summer in Krenlin with Mrs. Cawls : 
 
 XITA COLLINS, short and pretty; a lover of nature, and her 
 
 fellow-man. 
 MARTHA STAPES, practical girl. 
 
 MILDRED STONE, a self-willed girl, sometimes given to sarcasm, 
 BERTHA CLAYTON, somewhat reserved. 
 JOSEPH RICE, a permanent resident of Krenlin; possessed of an 
 
 independent mind. 
 THOMAS BLAKE, also a resident and a good friend to Joseph. 
 ALLEN KIMES, a resorter, and a nephew of Mrs. Cawls. 
 LT. HAROLD CORD, an American Army Lieutenant, who, is spending 
 
 his vacation (furlough) in Krenlin. 
 MRS. CORD, his mother. 
 
 LEGER STIPSON, a bright, but uneducated waif, of about fourteen 
 years. Should be a natural comedy character. (May be used 
 as a colored cast.) 
 THE ADMIRAL, a German officer of the submarine crew. 
 
 COSTUMES — Modern. 
 
 TIME— Summer of 1918. 
 
 TLAIE OF PRESENTATION — Three hours. 
 
 SYNOPSIS OF PLAY. 
 
 ACT I. Sitting room in Mrs. Cawls's summer cottage at Krenlin, 
 
 Elaine. On an arm of the Passamaquoddy Bay. 
 ACT II. In the woods at the outskirts of Krenlin. 
 ACT III. On the porch of Mrs. Cawls's cottage. 
 ACT IV: 
 
 Scene I. At Allen Kimes's cabin in the woods. Morning of 
 
 August 17. 
 Scene II. Same as Scene I. Night of the same day. 
 Scene III. On Rock Island, near midnight of same day as in 
 Scenes I and II. 
 ACT V. Same as "in Act II. 
 
ACT I. (Scene tlie interior of Mrs. Cawl's cottage, at the 
 summer resort in northeastern Maine.) 
 
 Airs. Caicls — (Sleeping upon couch as girls come into house; 
 girls waken her ; slie arises, kisses girls in turn, speaking) — 
 Oh, girls, I am so glad you are here. I just arrived last 
 night and was expecting you this morning and so haven't 
 straightened things up much. In fact I thought that you 
 girls wc'uld want to arrange tilings to suit yourselves, so I 
 lay down to wait for you. and I guess I must have fallen 
 asleep. How are you, anyhow? 
 
 BcrfJia — (As girls seat themseh'es on boxes and chairs about 
 the room ) — Just fine, Mrs. Cawls, how could we be other- 
 wise? \\'hy, the thoughts of this vacation have kept our 
 spirits at the very highest. And now to feel and know 
 that our hopes are realized, oh. it is great. 
 
 Airs. Caivls — And now do you wonder why I was so anxious 
 that you who knew nothing but the confines of your own 
 home town should take a vacation and why of all places I 
 should choose Krenlin ? 
 
 Bertha — No, Mrs. Cawls, this is wonderful; it is just such a 
 place as that iii which I have always felt that I should like 
 to live. The hills in the distance — 
 
 Mildred — And the great ba}' here before us — oh, I could look 
 forever upon those beautiful waves. 
 
 Bertha — And to think those waves are not at all like mamma 
 said they were at New Smyrna, Florida — why, there she 
 said the waves were, oh, so high. 
 
 Mrs. Cazcls — Yes, my dear, but you must remember that we 
 are now on the shore of an arm of the Passamaquoddy Bay 
 and that we are completely protected from the high waves 
 of the ocean by Nova Scotia, which extends far enough to 
 the south to break the larger waves, and Campabello and 
 Deer Islands, which we can see here to the east oi us, serve 
 to isolate us the further from the rough seas ; while, on the 
 other hand, if my memory serves me correctly, New Smyrna 
 is directly upon the coast without even so much as an island 
 to protect its waters from being rough like thcGe of the 
 great Atlantic. 
 
 Bertha — To be sure; hov/ stupid of me not to have thought of 
 that before. 
 
Mrs. Cawls — I should hardly say stupid, my dear ; you have 
 never been to the coast before and it is quite natural that 
 you should expect to see immediately upon visiting it for the 
 first time, those things that others have seen upon their visits 
 to the ocean even though your knowledge would tell you 
 differently if you were to stop to reason. 
 
 Mildred — But who would stop to reason upon being thrust into 
 such a beautiful place? Reasoning is too difficult a thing 
 for me to undertake while on a vacation. 
 
 Drayman — (from outside) — ^ Baggage. 
 
 Martha — (Having carried in suitcases as Mildred concludes) — 
 Do not fear to undertake difficult things, Mildred. Here, 
 lend a hand and help me carry this trunk to another room ; 
 I am anxious to get things unpacked so that I can get out 
 along the beach. 
 
 Nita — Yes, girls, let's get our unpacking done and then we will 
 be free to enjoy the beauties of the place. I for one am 
 anxious to get into action. The sea, the woods in the im- 
 mediate distance, everything seems to invite me to wonderful 
 adventures. 
 
 Martha — Adventure is right. Where adventure and excitement 
 are let me be, I love it. (All stir about arranging things.) 
 
 Bertha — So do all of us. 
 
 Martha — • But some have an inner feeling, a sense of refinement, 
 that keeps them from showing it. 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — ^ That is but natural; society has become such that 
 a girl's initiative and originality are dwarfed by the demands 
 of eccentric people. But such is not the case here — every- 
 one is here for pleasure, so enjoy yourselves in any way that 
 is in harmony with your conscience. But be careful to let 
 no one influence you to do wrong. 
 
 MarfJia — Oh, to be sure, we did not mean anything otherwise, 
 Mrs. Cawls. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvis — Don't call me Mrs. Cawls, girls, call me mother; 
 everyone else about here does. 
 
 Girls — (At once) — All right (at the same time others say). 
 Really I think that will be so much nicer (first conclude) 
 and S'O much more homelike. 
 
 Nita — But come, girls, let us fix things around according to the 
 way we want them, instead of spending all our time chatter- 
 ing; we're getting to be worse than a bunch of old maids. 
 
 Martha — Or a Ladies' Aid Society. (As they recommence 
 their work.) 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — Well, since you are all going to get busy I expect 
 I had better go to prepare an early lunch, then you can have 
 a full afternoon on the beach, — or wherever you wish to 
 spend it. (Exits center.) 
 
 Mildred — The tennis courts for me. 
 
Martha — Well, I guess I'll keep on in this room just now and 
 then, after it has been finished, decide how I shall spend the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Mildred — Then if our wcrk is to l^e done first, how would it do 
 for Bertha and I to clean our bedrooms and fix our beds 
 while you and Nita fix this room? 
 
 Martha — Go to it then. (Mildred and Bertha exeunt door right ; 
 Martha and Nita hang pictures, pennants, etc., at the same 
 time making casual remarks. ) 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — (Entering at center accompanied by Allen Kimes) 
 — Girls, you have often heard me speak 'of my nephew, 
 Allen Kimes. He is to be here at Krenlin for the summer, 
 and I trust that you may learn to know him well (intro- 
 duces). I know he will enjoy your company. 
 
 Allen — To be sure, I always enjoy the company of congenial 
 yDung people. 
 
 Mrs. Caivls — You see Allen is my only nephew, consequently I 
 have become greatly attached to him and it will be a great 
 pleasure to me to have him around. He is so good, so 
 manly, and so strong. 
 
 Allen — You flatter me. Auntie ; even those of the virtues that 
 yDLi mention that I once possessed I fear have been greatly 
 diminished because of sickness. I had not told you that I 
 am here in hopes of regaining my health, had I? 
 
 Mrs. Cazcls — Why, Allen, what do you mean ? 
 
 Allen — Nothing, Auntie, except I have been sufifering consid- 
 erably lately from the after efifects of pneumonia, the result 
 of the "Flu", which I had about two months ago. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls (Excitedly) — Why, Allen, you — 
 
 Allen — Now, Auntie, none of that. I was not very bad, and as 
 mother thought you Avould worry about me we decided not 
 to write yea about it. You know most of the deaths that 
 occurred as a result of the "Flu" were cases where the 
 patient worried considerably ; now supposing we had written 
 to you and about that time you had taken the disease, the 
 worry and the sickness might have caused you to keel over, 
 too, so we didn't write. Then when I began to get better I 
 started back to work too soon. The rest is the same old 
 story. So the doctor thought I would do well to get out of 
 office work for a while ; so to be far away from it I came 
 here. This is my third week here and already I am begin- 
 nis: to feel so much better. 
 
 Mrs. Camls — Oh, Allen, I am so glad. But now T— (rising 
 quickly and rushing out center) oh, goodness. I believe I 
 smell potatoes burning. 
 
 Allen — Now, isn't that just like Auntie? For that very reason 
 mother or I dared not write her of my illness ; she would 
 have foreotten all ether thinsrs. 
 
8 
 
 Nita — You have a very fine aunt ; she is very fond of you. Yet 
 
 I do not doubt that you did wisely in not telling her of your 
 
 misfortune. 
 Allen — Have you girls known her long, lor did you first become 
 
 acquainted with her by answering her advertisements as a 
 
 chaperone to this summer resort ? 
 Nita — Oh, we have known her for years. I was born in her 
 
 house, and she has been a very dear friend to our family 
 
 ever since my people first knew her. 
 Martha — ■ And we are all from the same town, and no one could 
 
 live in the same town with your aunt without knowing her. 
 
 She is one of the most noble characters I have ever known. 
 
 She is always doing something to make others, and so far 
 
 as possible, everyone happy. 
 Allen — I am so glad you like her ; it may that it is a family 
 
 trait that appeals to you. 
 Nita — An expression of admiration on such short acquaintance 
 
 would be construed as flattery, Mr. Kimes. But we certainly 
 
 do trust that we may learn to know you better. Did you 
 
 say that you had been here three weeks ? 
 Allen — I have; and quiet weeks they have been. You see there 
 
 is not much use made of these s.ummer resorts so far north 
 
 as this one, until about the first of July. Previous to that 
 
 time it is usually very quiet. 
 Martha — Oh, dear, and this is only the first of June. 
 Allen — Pardon me, Miss Stapes, but I have recently resolved to 
 
 avoid all flattery. 
 Martha — But why do you say that, Mr. Kimes ? 
 Allen — Didn't Miss Collins state that such expressions on short 
 
 acquaintance were nothing other than flattery? 
 Martha — Oh, dear, I am not responsible for what she says. 
 Allen — Again ! Perhaps you feel that our acquaintance has been 
 
 of longer duration than when she spoke as she did ; and 
 
 maybe you do not feel as she did about the matter — do you 
 
 mean what you say, Miss Stapes? (Advances toward her.) 
 Martha — I simply mean, Mr. Kimes, that I am sorry the resort 
 
 will be so still and quiet for another month. 
 Nita — You see, Mr. Kimes, that is an expression quite common 
 
 for Martha, she uses it quite unconsciciusly. But when you 
 
 hear me use such an expression you may have reason for 
 
 thinking that - — oh, well, anyhow that our acquaintance has 
 
 been of longer duration than when I spoke as I did a few 
 
 minutes ago. 
 Allen — Thank you. 
 Nita — But now, Mr. Kimes, how shall we spend our time until 
 
 the people come for the summer? I should think the place 
 
 would be awfully dead? 
 Martha — Yes ! That was what I meant. 
 
Allen — So one man has found it. 
 
 Nita — Uh huh ! So you are Iciiely, are you ? 
 
 Allen — No, I am not lonely ; why shoiuld I be ? The beach, the 
 bay, the woods, golf, croquet, tennis, and just now the society 
 of two beautiful young ladies, both of whom have already 
 learned to love the only member of my family that they have 
 known. No, it was not I of whom I was speaking. I am 
 not lonesome, have not been lonesome, and as I will during 
 the next few weeks have but little competition in the making 
 of your acquaintance, I do not see that I need become lonely. 
 
 Martha — Then whom do you mean? 
 
 Allen — As a matter of fact I hardly know of anyone becoming 
 lonely. I understood Miss ("ollins to say dead. 
 
 A'ita — So I did; but in what way do you distinguish between 
 the two expressions? 
 
 Allen. — As sometimes used there is little difference, but with 
 this man there was considerable. difference. I do not know 
 that he was lonely. But I do know that he found Krenlin, 
 or rather that Krenlin found him dead (as Allen concludes 
 Joseph Rice appears at windo'w looking in). 
 
 Nita — Tell us the joke. 
 
 Martha- — Yes, do tell. 
 
 Allen — You may well consider it quite a joke, but hasn't my 
 aunt told you about it. She surely heard of it. 
 
 Nita — No, do'tell. 
 
 Allen — There is little for me to tell. Some time ago there was 
 a young fisherman shot while out in his boat here upon the 
 bay. No one heard the shot, but one morning a boat was 
 seen drifting upon the water so two men went for it. As 
 they came upon it the}' found this young fisherman lying 
 dead in the bottom of it. There was a hole in its side made 
 by the bullet on its deadly career. This seemed to indicate 
 that the young fellow had sensed trouble and had prostrated 
 himself within his craft, which was little more than a canoe, 
 before the shot had been fired. I can tell you no more. The 
 murderer has not been found. (Rice disappears from 
 window.) 
 
 Martha — How terrible ! 
 
 Bertha — (Appearing in bathing suit) — Now for a plunge, 
 come along, girls, I (seeing Kimes) — girls, I thought this 
 cottage was to be reserved for us girls only. (Turns back 
 crying as she goes out) — Mildred, the girls have a man in 
 here. 
 
 Mrs. Ca7i.'ls — fat center) — Lunch is ready, girls. Aller. won't 
 you dine with us today? 
 
 Allen — No. thank you. Auntie, I must be goin<y now. Girls, it 
 ha? been a pleasure to me to know you. fMrs. Cawls exits.) 
 
 Girls — Thank vou (from one; the other) the same to you.' 
 
lO 
 
 Allen — (Continuing as though uninterrupted) — And may I 
 hope as my dear aunt has said that we may learn to know 
 each other much better? How about a game of tennis this 
 afternoon ? 
 
 j\Tita — How kind of you; I shall be delighted. Will you call 
 for me? 
 
 Allen — Pleased to, I shall call about two o'clock. You might 
 ask the other girls to come, too, I'm sure we can beat them, 
 can't we? 
 
 Martha — ^ Do not be toe sure of that, Mr. Kimes; I beat your 
 aunt last autumn in the only game she ever played, and I 
 might respond with a ditto to another member of the family. 
 
 Allen — Well, we'll drop the matter until two o'clock when we 
 shall see. Until then goodbye. Exit door left.) 
 
 Nit a — Goodbye. 
 
 Martha — Goodbye, and be careful not to eat so much as to 
 make you heavy on your feet. 
 
 ]\Jita — (to door right) — Girls, lunch is waiting, so hurry; you 
 know we want a long afternoon about the resort. 
 
 Martha — Uh huh, about the resort, eh? So you think you'll 
 take a stroll after the game, do you? Well, if you are to 
 get far with that man in your reconnaissance of this place it 
 will be necessary that a third party accompany you. 
 
 JSfita — ^Oh, I don't know. I do not think that he is the sort of 
 a man to lose much time. 
 
 Martha — My sentiments exactly ; nor do I think that he will 
 have to walk all over town to speak his thoughts, while con- 
 serving his time, unless — the third party should be along. 
 
 Mildred — (entering door right) — You girls had better look 
 out ; Bertha is sore because you did not warn her of a gen- 
 tleman's arrival. 
 
 Nita — Too many women are apt to embarrass a young man in 
 his first attempt to become acquainted, especially when none 
 of his former acquaintances are about to help him out. 
 
 Martha — (As Bertha appears in door right) — Ah, here comes 
 our young vaudeville actress ; but why the change of cos- 
 tume ? 
 
 BertJia — Girls, you have let me make a fool of myself, but I 
 thought to take a plunge before lunch. 
 
 Martha — We had no intentions of disappointing you. Say, but 
 you surely should have made some hit. And now to think 
 you made a change just as soon as he left. 
 
 Bertha — Oh, girls, why — 
 
 Nita — No whys about' it, let's get to lunch. Mother has been 
 waiting for four minutes now (glances at clock). 
 
 Martha — Oh, yes, girls, do hurry; our Miss Promptness has a 
 ■ date for this P. M. (All go out door center.) 
 
II 
 
 Nita — (As leaving) — I have a tennis appointment at two and 
 you are all invited to come with us. I am to be Mr. Kimes's 
 partner, and he has already pronounced our victory. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — (Enters door center, winds victrola) — This will 
 be something- the girls will not find in many cottages about 
 here. I was the only person who had a victrola here at 
 Krenlin all last summer, but we might just as well have 
 things as up to date here as they have them in the city. 
 (Exits after starting victrola, Joseph Rice enters door left 
 after pause.) 
 
 Joseph — A joke, eh? So that is the way he regards the matter. 
 Kimes, I have for some time felt that your presence here is 
 for no good. The tragedy occurred fully a month before 
 your arrival. Since then the matter has been spoken of but 
 little, in hopes that the perpetrator might be found and 
 brought to justice ; still he seems to know all about it. "A 
 joke. I can tell you no more." To me there is no doubt as 
 to his ability to tell more than any other living man ; but 
 perhaps he thought to dispose of the subject abruptly lest he 
 might incriminate himself. And then he might not have 
 cared to dwell upon the subject longer for thoughts of mur- 
 der usually seem unpleasant after the deed has been com- 
 mitted. But, young man, look out ; each day you are wind- 
 ing tighter about you the evidence of your guilt; justice can- 
 not always be evaded. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — (Entering to again start victrola) — ^^'ell, hello, 
 Joseph; just as I expected. 
 
 Joseph — And why did you expect me, mother?" 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — Do you think I am apt to forget your interest in 
 girls ? 
 
 Joseph — But — 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — They will be in just as soon as they have finished 
 their lunch. Until then amuse yourself as best you can. 
 Alaybe you do not want this thing grinding away? 
 
 Joseph — No, no, mother, let her go, I like it ; it is something 
 new to hear one of those things around here again, sounds 
 like old times. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls— Is that so? (Exits.) 
 
 Joseph — She's a dear old soul. ' Year after year she comes here 
 to chaperone a party of girls, usually those who do not have 
 all the privileges of society in their homes. She brings them 
 here and leads and guides them as a mother. (Thomas 
 Blake enters door left.) 
 
 Thomas — Don't know about that, Rice, I've been around 
 quite a little in my day, and in going my rounds I have come 
 in contact with the mothers of quite a number of girls, and 
 believe me none of them ever seemed to have the same con- 
 
12 
 
 sideration for a fellow that Mother Cawls does. She can treat 
 a fellow right, I'll tell you, when he comes calling around. 
 
 Joseph — You said something then, Old Top. 
 
 Thomas — ■ Did I ? I didn't know I was talking. Gosh, but it is 
 handy to have some cne around to keep a fellow informed 
 as to his vocal activities. 
 
 Joseph — Well, Old Crab, what's loose now ? 
 
 Thomas — My tongue as usual. Say, wouldn't it be scrumptious 
 if these girls would be as congenial as Mother Cawls? 
 
 Joseph — I hardly think sc Mrs. Cawls likes everyone ; and if 
 each of these young dames takes that stand — well, I'll have 
 to live alone another year. Say, Tom, did you see the girls, 
 anyhow ? 
 
 Thofnas — Golly no — my luck as usual ; but it seems everyone 
 else did. Even old John Hoskins was telling down at the 
 store that they were the prettiest bunch of petticoats that 
 were ever placed in this market. 
 
 Joseph — So that's the old duck's opinion, is it ? 
 
 Thomas — Seems to be, so I came over to see how nearly he was 
 right. 
 
 Joseph — Ditto here. By the way, Tom, have you seen Kimes 
 lately ? 
 
 TJwmas — Yeh, saw him down along the beach this morning. 
 He seemed to be looking around as though he had lost 
 something. But I guess it wasn't anything very valuable, 
 for when he saw me he began to whistle and walked up 
 toward the town. 
 
 Joseph — Well, Tom, do you know I am beginning to — 
 
 Leger — (Entering with a rush) — By cracky, you shciild have 
 seed the fire. Most excitement I've seed about this joint 
 since the old black hen tried to make shredded wheat out o' 
 the fudge Old Maid Callahan put out on the pump platform 
 to cool last summer. 
 
 Thomas — -What do you mean, fire, kid? 
 
 Leger — Golly, man, but you should have seed her. If you 
 knowed enough to let these here females alone you mightn't 
 have missed so much. 
 
 Thomas — But the fire ? 
 
 Leger — That's what I came over to tell Mammy Cawls about. 
 Golly, she's the only one can understand a kid. (Bolts into 
 dining room, calling) Say, Mammy, you know old ( sees 
 girls, turns and runs back) — Gosh. I didn't suppose they 
 were in there. How's it happen you fellers are out here? 
 Didn't they smile loud when they saw me? Gollv, but 
 they're pretty — that little one with all that red ribbon up 
 there across; her front (referring to big red bow worn with 
 middle) — Gee! 
 
13 
 
 Joseph — Now listen here, Leger, quiet yourself and tell us 
 
 about the fire. 
 Leger — Well, you know old (Mrs. Cawls enters with girls) — 
 
 Gosh, here they come. Golly, but they're pretty. (Hides.) 
 
 (Mrs. Cawls introduces girls. Thomas lingers near Nita. 
 
 Leger snickers ; Joe drags him out. Girls laugh ; Leger 
 
 pC'UtS.) 
 
 Nita — ■ Don't let them bother you, little man ; come here to me, 
 I will not laugh any more. 
 
 Leger — (Going to Nita) — Golly, I like you best anyhow. 
 Gosh, but you're pretty. (Thomas laughs.) Say, Tom, why 
 didn't you kiss her? You do all the other girls. I would if 
 my mouth wasn't all over sticky. (Turning to Nita) — 
 Gosh, but you're pretty. 
 
 ]\Irs. Cazcls — vSay, Leger, I have some cookies out in the 
 kitchen for you ; come with me. 
 
 Lcgcr — Golly, Mammy, but I like you ; and I like your cookies, 
 too. 
 
 Joseph — But, Mother, Leger came over to tell about a fire, don't 
 take him away yet awhile. 
 
 Leger — Wait till I get my cooky. 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — You shall have your cocky, but tell about the fire 
 first. 
 
 Lcgcr — I will if you'll give me two cookies. 
 
 Mrs. Cazds — All right, Leger, you shall have two of them. 
 
 Leger — If you'll make it three cookies Fll tell right away. 
 
 Mrs. Caids — ■ W'ell, Leger, you may have as many cookies as 
 you want. 
 
 Lcgcr — Golly, but you're good. Mammy. Fll fill my pockets 
 and if my hat didn't have the top out I could fill it, too. 
 
 Thomas — But you must tell about the fire first. 
 
 Lcgcr — W^ell, I'm goin' to, hain't I? Golly, give a feller a 
 chance. (Girls aside remark to themselves about Leger's 
 characteristics.") Well (starts to laugh) golly but it was 
 funny. Old man Thorne was a sitting up there at the store 
 with his feet propped up against one box and his chair lean- 
 ing back against another box, and him sound asleep. When 
 I comes in and seen him there, and the tobacco juice running 
 out of his mouth, and down through his whiskers, just like 
 it always does, you know. Well, his whiskers was a layin' 
 down on his front clear down to here (makes motion as of 
 whiskers about a foot long) so I slips up real still like and 
 touches them with a lighted match and you ought to seen 
 them burn. The old tobacco juice kept right on a runnin' 
 but it didn't run fast enough to make a very good fire de- 
 partment, and pretty soon old Thorne woke up and you 
 ought to seen him scratch his whiskers and yell. I yells, 
 "run for the bav, Misser Thorne. you're on fire," but he 
 
14 
 
 gets it out after his whiskers is all burned off excepting two 
 
 strings where the tobacco juice was thickest and then he 
 
 tooked after me and called me nicknames, like men often 
 
 call each other when they think there hain't no womens 
 
 around. Golly, he was mad, and, Gee, you ought to seed 
 
 me run. But, Gosh, I want my cookies. 
 Mrs. Cawls — That was such a bad trick I really ought not to 
 
 give you any cookies ; but you won't do it any more, will 
 
 you, Leger? 
 Leger -«- Golly no, Mammy, there hain't no more there to burn, 
 
 they're all burned off. GcJly, but he does look funny. 
 Bertha — But you naughty boy, you ought to be punished for 
 
 doing such a trick ; that was awful. 
 Leger — Golly, Mis§, don't you go to shootin' oft' like that or 
 
 I'll call you some of the nicknames old Thorne called me. I 
 
 know how they're said all right, I do. 
 Mrs. Cawls — Don't mind her, Leger, come and have your cookies 
 
 and then run on. 
 Leger — (As he and Mrs. Cawls exeunt center — Golly, but 
 
 you're good. Mammy. 
 Thomas — Poor waif, everyone picks on him, it is no wonder 
 
 that he's so bad. 
 Nita — He seems so forlorn. I feel sorry for him. I'm going to 
 
 make him my little crony this summer. 
 Thomas — If you are adopting orphans I might inform you that 
 
 I am alone in the world. ' 
 Nita — And from Leger's way of characterizing your actions I 
 
 would not be surprised to hear of you remaining so for some 
 
 time. 
 Mildred — Do you boys play tennis ? 
 Joseph — Certainly. 
 Thomas — (Speaking simultaneoulsy with Joseph) — We would 
 
 like a game this afternoon if it would please you girls. 
 Mildred — ^ We had hoped to play and will certainly enjoy having 
 
 you fellows join the crowd. 
 Thomas — As your partner ? 
 Mildred — Sure, if it pleases you. 
 Joseph — Well, he seems sort of selfish, so I shall divide my 
 
 time among the three oi you. 
 Martha — (Aside to Bertha) — He seems more thoughtful and 
 
 polite than either Mr. Blake or Mr. Kimes. 
 Joseph — Miss Collins, shall we oppose them first? 
 Nita — My afternoon is already promised forth. I'm sorry but 
 
 we'll have opportunities later. 
 Joseph — To be sure. (To Bertha and Martha) — Which of you 
 
 girls will be first to hold the court with me against all 
 
 ocimers ? 
 Martha — What do you say, Bertha? 
 
15 
 
 Bertha — Vou ; 1 want to watch at first, and then you know I 
 didn't prepare for tennis. (Toilet incomplete after taking 
 olt bathing suit) — But I'll be out soon (Exeunt all except 
 Bertha and Nita) — I guess my plunge is out of the ques- 
 tion for this P. M., so I'll get ready for tennis, too; maybe 
 there'll be an orphan come along and adopt me, at least for 
 tennis. 
 
 Nita — Sure ; get ready and come along, "any old place the gang 
 goes" go ye there. Here comes Mr. Kimes now. I'll go to 
 meet him. (Takes racket and goes 'OUt. Bertha goes out 
 door right.) 
 
 Legcr — (Entering from center with hands and mouth full) — 
 Golly, but these cookies are good. 
 
 [curtain.] 
 
 ACT II. (Scene Outdoors in timber — Joseph and Thomas 
 seated upon a log). 
 
 Joseph — Tom, what do you suppose is Kimes's idea in building 
 that cabin down there near the edge of the timber? 
 
 Tlioiiias — Search me! I hadn't noticed the bloomin' thing until 
 day before yesterday, and then didn't pay any attention to 
 it ; just supposed old Hoskins was going to stock up in 
 chickens again and was building a roost for them. The land 
 there belongs to Hoskins, you know. 
 
 Joseph — Yes, Iknow; but Hoskins was telling up at the store 
 last evening that Kimes had given him five hundred dollars 
 for the use of the land during this summer with an option 
 on it at the same rate for five years should he desire to use 
 it that long. He also promised to leave the cabin for Hos- 
 kins after he was through with it. 
 
 Thomas — Did he give any reason for wanting to build?? 
 
 Joseph — Well, yes, sort of a reason ; said his health wasn't just 
 what it should be and that he wanted to be a little away 
 from the settlem.ent so that he can get more rest. 
 
 llioinas — ^^ Golly, that ought to suit you, give you better chances 
 to be with Nita. 
 
 Joseph — I know, Tom. but I do not think that my chances with 
 her are very good. 
 
 Thomas — She hasn't given you your walking papers, has she? 
 
 Joseph — No, but it is plain to be seen that Kimes holds the 
 string to Cupid's bow there. I have tried by every fair 
 means to outdo him and to thus raise myself in her esteem ; 
 but it is no use, I can't even beat him at tennis when she is 
 there. I have played with him at singles and doubles ; I 
 
i6 
 
 alone have opposed him and Nita ; again with Nita as my 
 partner we have played him alone, but it is always with the 
 same result, Kimes never loses a set. 
 
 Thomas - — That is due to yotir own lack of self control because 
 you are in love with her. But subject your love and con- 
 trol yourself, then leave Nita out of the games entirely for 
 a few times and play with some one else. 
 
 Joseph — ^Yes, but Nita would be there to watch us, for she's 
 always there, and then it would be the same old thing. No, 
 Tom, I'm out of luck ; but I'll try not to let her know that 
 I am aware of my defeat and maybe when the truth is 
 told and Kimes is found out I may have a chance. 
 
 Thomas — Good idea Joe. Have you l3een able to find out any 
 more about the fellow? 
 
 Joseph — Not much. How about yourself ? 
 
 Thomas — Not a bloomin' thing. I have been watching for him 
 up there around the hotel but haven't seen a thing of him 
 for three days, and then just saw him entering the door. I 
 thought maybe he had gone away, but I didn't dare ask 
 anyone for fear they would find out that we are watching 
 him. 
 
 Joseph — Well, you see he has been working down at his cabin 
 for nearly a week and he spends most of his time there. 
 Last night there was a light there at ten o'clock when I left 
 the store. So I started down that way, but before I was 
 half way there he put out the light and pretty soon I heard 
 him coming, so I got under cover until he had passed and 
 then I beat it for his cabin, but I couldn't find anything there 
 that was out of the ordinary ; but as I was returning along 
 the path he had taken, I found a paper which I took home 
 with me and upon examining it I found that it was a 
 diagram of the coast line here along the bay ; in the upper 
 left hand corner was written. No. 932. 
 
 Thomas — That sounds interesting. 
 
 Joseph — Yes. And then this morning I saw the old boy looking^ 
 along the path he went last night, so I came upon him 
 rather unexpectedly and asked him if he had lost anything, 
 to which he replied, "Yes, I guess I must have lost a paper 
 that had some of my plans on it somewhere along here last 
 night ; but it didn't amount to much, for there isn't much of 
 a plan to that little coop of mine, anyhow". So I helped 
 him look around for it until he gave it up and then I went 
 on up town. 
 
 Thomas — That's proof enough that he didn't want you to know 
 what was on the paper. But what do you suppose he will 
 do now? 
 
 Joseph — I don't know ; but there was quite a wind last night 
 and there is a strong probabilitv that he will conclude that 
 
17 
 
 ihc paper was snatched up l\v it and carried out into the 
 bay. and consequently he will just make another map of the 
 place. By the way, Tom, the paper was ruled with the 
 mercator's projections and the outer margin bore the stamp 
 "Made in Germany." 
 
 Thomas — I am not surprized. 
 
 Joscpli — Nor here either. It only adds strength to our sus- 
 picions. 
 
 Thomas — Do you suppose we ought to disclose our suspicions 
 to Hoskins so that he can watch Kimes's mail? 
 
 Joseph — Not at present, Tom ; we wdll watch him in secret a 
 ^^hile longer. Otherwise he might become conscious that 
 we are watching him. 
 
 Thomas — But think of the harm that he could do to the coun- 
 try in that time. I have no doubts but that our little bay 
 here is a secret base of the enemies' submarines. 
 
 Joseph — Neither have T, Tom; but things spread rapidly in a 
 place like this and so I think it best that we have better 
 grounds for our suspicions before we disclose them to a 
 third party. Think of the harm that might be done if our 
 enemies know that they are being watched. No, we better 
 lie low for a while longer. 
 
 Thomas — Perhaps so, but I think that we should all be better 
 off if Kimes were out of here. 
 
 Joseph — And so do I, but remember Germany may have other 
 agents right here in our midst ; at any rate she can send 
 others here as she did Kimes and we would have more 
 difficulty in ascertaining them when the resort is thronged 
 with people a little later in the season. 
 
 Thomas — I hadn't thought of that. But here comes Leger. 
 
 Leger — (entering from right) Golly, but you fellers are thick. 
 Ever since them girls came to town that's all you've did is 
 just sit around and talk about them. Gosh, you make me 
 sick. 
 
 Joseph — But what made vou think we were talking about the 
 girls ? 
 
 Leger — Golly, don't you think I know ? Couldn't I tell by the 
 way you quit talkin' when you seen me" Gosh, anybody 
 could tell you didn't want a feller to hear what you was 
 sayin'. 
 
 Joseph — But couldn't we be talking about something else, 
 Leger ? 
 
 Jaeger — Most fellers could but when 3'ou two git out by your- 
 selves, that's all you think about. 
 
 Thomas — But, Leger, we were not talking about the girls. 
 
 Leger — Then you better see a doctor quick; you're not yourself 
 at all, you hain't a bit natural. But, Golly, I'd like to know 
 wdiat else you'd be talking about. 
 
i8 
 
 Thomas — There are lets of things. 
 
 Joseph — Say, Leger, why do you suppose Allen Kimes is build- 
 ing that cabin over there? 
 
 Leger — Gcllv, wish T knowed. I hope he hain't goin' to use it 
 for Miss Nita cause 1 want her for my girl. Gosh, but she's 
 pretty. I'm goin' to give her half my chewin' gum. 
 
 Joseph —But why do you like Nita more than the others? 
 
 Leger — Cause she's the only one that likes me. Golly, think I'm 
 fool enough to waste my time likin' a girl that don't like 
 me ? Not much ; I hain't as big a fool as you think I am. 
 But I must go and give her part of my chewin' gum before 
 I gets the juice all chewed out. (exits L). 
 
 Thomas — If ever there was a pest, he is it. Let's follow him 
 and see if he does offer Nita any gum. 
 
 Joseph — Any old excuse to get near those girls, eh ? But I 
 should worry, I like their company fully as well as you do. 
 (They exit left.) 
 
 Allen — (Entering after a pause; bites finger nails, appearing 
 uneasy). It surely does beat anything what I did with that 
 paper. Surely I must have lost it. And I would not have 
 anyone find it for the world. I surely hope it has blown 
 out into the bay. I'll draw another anyhow. But if that 
 one is found and there should be anyway of finding out 
 who lost it people would be apt to suspect my motive here, 
 (scratches head). 
 
 Nita — (Coming from right.) Hello Allen, I am surprised to 
 see you here. I would have expected you to be busy down 
 at your hut at this time of day. 
 
 Allen — Surely a little rest will do no harm. Sit down (she sits 
 beside him) But what brought you here? 
 
 Nita — I just started out for a walk and I just couldn't resist 
 coming for a stroll in the woods, they are so beautiful. Do 
 you know I am growing to love this place more and more 
 each day-" I only wish I were a naturalist, or something. 
 Wouldn't it be grand to always live in God's great out-of- 
 doors : to hold communion with all nature, the trees, the 
 birds, the plants, everything. 
 
 Allen — Truly, you are a naturalist, for you love those things. 
 Why do you consider that you are not ? 
 
 Nita — Why, I do not know the name of a single wild plant 
 or tree in this region. 
 
 Allen — Maybe not, but you know the differences befween them, 
 and vou appreciate everything ; that is sufficient. Remem- 
 ber the names are man made. 
 
 Nita — Yes, I know, Allen, but I wish for more than a personal 
 appreciation of God's great handiwork. I long to be able to 
 pass that appreciation on to others ; to help them in seeing: 
 
^9 
 
 the never ending beavities abovit us. thus lifting them to 
 something higher, grander, and nobler. 
 
 Allen — Nita. you vour.sclf are the noblest of God's creatures. 
 Your life, your ways are a reflection of Him. Your thoughts 
 are inspired of Him — always of others. Willingly, i be- 
 lieve, would you lay down your life for the things you love. 
 For these things 1 love you, Nita ; I love you more than you 
 could ever suspect. 
 
 Nita — I am afraid you are trying to flatter me, Allen. But 
 truly, I would be all that you have said. And if the time 
 ever comes when I shall be compelled to choose between this 
 life, which is so sweet, and the things that I love, let it be the 
 latter. 
 
 Allen — Well spoken, indeed ; only one wholly devoted to a cause 
 could speak as you do. How I would that I might be 
 favored with the love of one such as you. 
 
 Nita — No harm could result from trying, I am sure. 
 
 Allen — Thanks for that. Those words are an inspiration in 
 themselves. And I shall begin right now to try to make 
 myself worthy of such a love. I shall always hold your 
 example before me as my guiding star, letting it beckon me 
 on to a fuller realization of the values and pleasures of life. 
 But how long must I wait before I may call you my own ? 
 
 Nita — If when this dreadful war is ended, you still love me ; 
 if then vou feel as you do now, then Allen, then will 1 
 trust my future happiness to you. 
 
 Allen — Thanks for that my dearest. Shall we seal the contract 
 now ? 
 
 Nita — Yes, if it so pleases you. Here under Heaven's blue 
 dome, with only God and His handiwork as witnesses, let us 
 pledge cur hearts to each other. (They embrace.) 
 
 [curtain.] 
 
 ACT HL (Scene: Porch of Mrs. Cawls' cottage; Mrs. Cawls 
 and girls seated thereon, Mrs. Cawls crocheting. Bertha and 
 Martha knitting.) 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — Girls, Mrs. Cord is going to bring her son, the 
 lieutenant, over this afternoon, so I wish that you would 
 remain here with me and help entertain him. He is just a 
 young fellow and I know will enjoy becoming acquainted 
 with the young folks about the place. 
 
 Mildred — All right mother, we will stay right here, won't we 
 girls ? 
 
 Girls — (All) Sure (some say) certainly. 
 
20 
 
 Mildred — We can bring the victrola right out here on the porch 
 and have a regular jolly good time, can't we mother? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — To be 'sure ; use the victrola as though it were 
 your own, remember that that is what it is here for. (Mil- 
 dred enters house for victrola.) Do you want me to help 
 you ? 
 
 Mildred (Reappearing at door with victrola) No thanks, Mother, 
 I'll get along all right with it. 
 
 Martha — ■ Now if you girls will get your knitting we can have 
 a regular old fashioned knitting bee. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — A good idea, Martha, but let's not call it a knitting 
 bee, let's call it a club for war work. That will make it 
 appeal to the lieutenant and I know will please his mother. 
 
 ~A^z/a — Well Martha and Bertha will have it on us here, won't 
 they Mildred? For they will have more. knit than we will 
 even if we are to start in now. Consequently they will be 
 the ones to appeal to the lieutenant. 
 
 ■Mildred — Not on your life. We will tell him w^e each have 
 knit one sweater and are just starting on our second ones. 
 
 Nita — That might work al^ right for you, but not for me. Why, 
 I couldn't say that if I would without my falsehood being 
 found out, for I cannot knit at all. 
 
 Bertha — Well, don't let that worry you. Really I think you 
 girls ought to give me a chance. Surely it is about my turn. 
 It is plain to be seen that Mildred has captivated Tom 
 Blake, while Martha is playing the high card with her oat- 
 meal, I mean Rice; and as for Nita there — well, she will 
 be calling Mother, auntie before very long, if appearances 
 count for anything. 
 
 Mildred — Well, if it is turns that you have been waiting on, no 
 wonder you are no more fortunate than you are. Remem- 
 ber love does not always take turns. But as far as I am 
 concerned you can have the old lieutenant, I am sure I do 
 not want him. 
 
 Bertha — I don't suppose you want to take any chances with 
 him, for to do so you would have to neglect Tommy just a 
 little, and you think best to hold on to what you already 
 have cinched, 
 
 Mildred — Oh, I don't know. Anyway he would be better than 
 an army man. If you have a soldier, you only have him 
 occasionally, but if you get a man like Tom you have him 
 all the time. 
 
 Bertha — Yes, but who wants a stick-tight? I know if I met a 
 soldier who suited me I would be willing to part with him 
 part of the time if the country needed him; and feel a great 
 deal more proud of him than I would to have one who 
 couldn't hear his country's call because he was tied to his 
 little angel's apron strings. 
 
21 
 
 Mildred — That sounds all right, but supposing he should be 
 called across, then maybe you would be wearing mourning, 
 in a few months. 
 
 Bertha — I would feel sad no doubt. But if I loved a man 
 enough to marry him, I am sure I would not begrudge my 
 country the first right to him in time of peril. At the very 
 most, his life could be no more sweet to me than it would 
 be to him. But as for Lieutenant Cord, I have not said 
 that I wanted him. I only asked for a chance. You know 
 my chances do not always materialize. 
 
 Mildred- — I'll say they don't. But it is not your fault, poor girl. 
 But do .your best this time Bertha, and maybe you might 
 succeed, and if you find you need any help I'll help you- 
 And do not hold back because he is a soldier. Even if he 
 does have to cross the waters and gets blowed to — pieces, 
 you will get his ten thousand, so why should you worry? 
 
 Mrs. Cazds — Girls, do not jest in such a manner over such a 
 serious thing. Death itself is serious indeed; and to think 
 that thousands upon thousands of ovu^ boys, the choice youth 
 of the land, are daily giving their lives to the cause. All the 
 money in the world cannot pay for the sacrifices that they 
 have made. 
 
 Mildred — But, Mother, I did not mean to make light of the 
 question of death. But you know that there are hundreds 
 upon hundreds of young girls who have married soldiers 
 just to get their life insurance. 
 
 Mrs. Cazuls — Yes, dear, that is true, every word of it. Yet 
 there are many who have married out of true love; not that 
 they might receive the insurance, which however most of 
 them will, but to show their willingness to -share in part, as 
 only a wife can share, some of the hardships that this terrible 
 war is causing them to undergo. No, we must not judge 
 too harshly, for we may judge some wrongly. And do not 
 always blame the girls ; remember many of them marry to 
 comply with the wishes of the boys, who know full well that 
 they must cross the sea. 
 
 Kita — But, Mother, do you think that that is right ? Is it fair to 
 the boy, and especially to his mother? Think of the hard- 
 ships a mother undergoes as she beholds her boy, he whom 
 she nursed at her own breast, he whom she reared, guided, 
 and fostered from his babyhood through his boyhood days, 
 teaching him to walk and talk, and later directing him 
 through the tr3dng period of young manhood, giving of her 
 very soul to him in the precepts she lived before him. Is it 
 justice to her, when her heart is heavily laden, as she watches 
 him go forth, she knows not where, nor whether she may 
 
 ;. ever again gaze upon his earthly form? She sees in rapid 
 succession all the hardships of the camp and of the battle- 
 
field; she hears the cannons' roar; she sees the bursting 
 shells; and in the midst of it all she sees her bov — a mo- 
 ment, and she looks again, can she be mistaken? No. no! 
 In her vision she sees him covered with his own blood being 
 borne from the field of battle. To this, would we add the 
 breaking of home ties by laying the foundations of another 
 home for that mother's boy? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — Nita. I admire the stand that you take; all that 
 you have said is true, but you will not find many of our 
 young men and girls who think as you do. But if what you 
 say is wrong for one it is equally wrong for both. The boys 
 perhaps are the more to blame because they become forget- 
 ful of their own mothers. 
 
 -Nita — Mother, I know the boys are to be blamed; I know that 
 they seem forgetful of 'their mothers' happiness, but re- 
 member that "love is blind". Each sees only the girl whom 
 he adores. He, enraptured with her love, forgets that a 
 mother's love is rooted deeply in the past. But in just such 
 times as these,, a girl should exert her mental powers. She 
 can better appreciate the mother's viewpoint than can that 
 mother's son and consequently she should act accordingly. 
 Under such circumstances as now present themselves to 
 those about to cross the ocean, the majority of the boys 
 propose marriage, fearing that she whom he loves might not 
 otherwise prove true. But that is a weakness on his part. 
 Find me a girl who will not be true to her love when she is 
 single, and you will find that she will be less true if married. 
 I am sure that if I loved a young man and he should ask 
 me to become his wife, I should ask him to wait until this 
 awful struggle is over before our relations could become 
 more than an engagement. Then if his love had not weak- 
 ened I would gladly give myself to him. 
 
 Mildred — Do not be too sure about that, Nita ; • maybe you 
 have not had anyone to propose to you. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — I believe Nita can well follow the way she has 
 ■ just laid before us. I only wish that all girls were like her. 
 
 Martha — Then our boys would have to go without sweaters. It 
 has been more than a year now since the United States de- 
 clared war and as yet she hasn't learned to knit. 
 
 Nita — Martha, you are right. My expressions of interest in the 
 boys in the struggle and my efforts in behalf of their welfare 
 are not consistent. I should have long ago learned to knit ; 
 will you teach me today? 
 
 Martha — I will do my best, but I cannot promise you any fur- 
 ther than that. Get your needles and some yarn and get over 
 here. (Nita enters house, gets needles, returns, and sits be- 
 sides Martha who shows her how to knit; they make casual 
 remarks durino- meantime ) . 
 
23 
 
 Mrs. Caids — (After pause). Here come the lieutenant and 
 his mother. (Rises. The lieutenant and Mrs. Cord enter 
 from left.) How do you do, Mrs. Cord, come right on up. 
 We just came out onto the porch to await your coming. 
 (Mrs. Cord introduces lieutenant.) And how do you do. 
 (He makes reply as "how do you do, Mrs. Cawls"). I am 
 certainly pleased to meet you. A man in khaki is a rather 
 unusual thing about here. You are the first of our Ameri- 
 can boys that I have seen in Krenlin. (Introduces him to 
 girls.) I saw a couple of Canadian boys over here the other 
 day but they were the first. How long a furlough have vou? 
 
 Lt. Cord — Just a month. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls- — How fortunate. You will be here at just the 
 right season to enjoy our resort. I understand from your 
 mother that you have been stationed at Camp Lee, Virginia. 
 
 Lf. Cord — Yes, I was commissioned out of the second officers 
 training school at Fort Benjamin Harrison, last November, 
 and was immediately sent to Lee. 
 
 Nita — And where is your home, Lieutenant? 
 
 Lt. Cord — Castobia, Ohio, a small country town about thirty- 
 seven miles east of Cincinnati and along the Ohio River. 
 
 Nita — Is that so ? We live at La Grange, which is also along 
 the Ohio, just a little way south of Steubenville. 
 
 Lt. Cord ■ — That seems strange, doesn't it ? To think that we 
 should meet in this far away place in Maine, and that we 
 all come from the banks of the Old Ohio. Still there is a 
 great distance between our homes. 1 believe. If I am not 
 mistaken Steubenville is north of Wheeling, isn't it? 
 
 Nita — Yes. about thirty miles ; La Grange is but twenty-two 
 miles north. But do you know that I always feel like I am 
 right at home when I meet with some one who. in his 
 home life, has something in common with that which I have 
 known ? 
 
 Lt. Cord — So do I. It permits one to break away from the 
 monotonous conversational subjects of a general interest to 
 something more specific ; something of a more personal in- 
 terest, and especially is that the case after one has been 
 away from home for some time. 
 
 Nita — That is just the way I feel about it. Did you get home 
 from camp very often? 
 
 Lt. Cord — I 'was home for six days when I received my com- 
 mission, but that was the last. 
 
 Mildred — \\'hy. that seems strange. Some of the boys out our 
 way that went to Camp Sherman, got home every few 
 weeks. 
 
 Lt. Cord — W^ell. with us. week-end passes were given quite 
 frequently, but those extended only from Saturday noon 
 until reveille Monday morning, and that did not give enough 
 
24 
 
 time for me to get home and back. However, Mother came 
 out to camp a couple of times and I would get time off to 
 be with her. That made life seem more homelike. 
 
 Bertha — I should think so, and now to think that vou have a 
 month with her here is certainly grand. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Yes, just as soon as 1 found out that I was to get 
 a furlough I could not help thinking how nice it would be 
 for Mother, Raymond, and I to spend the time in some 
 pleasant- sumn:ter resort, (Mrs. Cawls and Mrs. Cord who 
 have been conversing aside, enter house) so I wrote to 
 Mother and asked her to close our home and come here for 
 the summer and told her that I would join her here in July. 
 
 Bertha — How nice of you. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Well, I felt this way, who knows but that it may be 
 the last time that we may ever be together on earth, so why 
 not have it as easy and pleasant as possible for mother 
 during that time. I know that mother often thinks of our 
 next parting as maybe our last, although she tries not to 
 let me know it. So knowing, as I do, that had I spent this 
 vacation at home she would simply have tired herself com- 
 pletely, always doing something to add to my comfort, I con- 
 cluded that it would be best for her to come here and then 
 she would not always see the work before her and conse- 
 quently she could get some enjoyment out of our time to- 
 gether. So I wrote a secret letter to Raymond telling him 
 what I was going to do and why, and that if when Mother 
 received the letter with my suggestion he would coax her 
 to come, and agree with her that he would wash all the 
 dishes, sweep the floors, and anything just to get to cotne, I 
 would give him fifty dollars. It worked. At first Mother 
 objected and wrote to me that she wished that I had never 
 suggested such a thing, that Raymond simply could not give 
 up the idea ; but finally she consented and how much better 
 and more enjoyable it is for her. Raymond, true to his: 
 promise, is up at the cottage now washing the dishes. 
 
 Mildred — He must be a Prince of a little fellow. Not many 
 boys would remember a promise such as that one, once they 
 got to a place like this. But how nicely things have turned 
 out for you. In years to come your mother will look back 
 with fond recollections to this, which for all .we know may 
 be as you say, your last summer with your mother. 
 
 Nita ■ — Mildred, why do you speak as you do? Lt. Cord has not 
 gone across as yet, and, though he may go soon, why should 
 we harbor feelings of fear concerning his welfare? Let us 
 not think of the dark side only. There is no occasion so 
 discouraging but that a ray of hope, however faint it may 
 be, can be discerned. God still rules in his universe, and if 
 by His divine plan Lt. Cord is called upon to make the 
 
supreme sacrifice, it is well. Surely nothing earthly can be 
 more commendable than the giving of one's life for the 
 country he loves. 
 
 Lt. Cord ■ — • A good philosophy indeed, Miss Collins. I wish 
 that all of us could bespeak ourselves so freely of our con- 
 fidence in Him who controls all our destines. (Mrs. Cawls 
 and Mrs. Cord reenter from house). 
 
 Bertha — But, Lieutenant, will you return to Camp Lee when 
 your furlough has expired? 
 
 Lt. Cord — I hardly think so. My company is scheduled to sail 
 from Baltimore, August twenty-eighth, so if all is well I 
 shall rejoin it there. 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — Lieutenant, you should not speak so freely of the 
 plans of the government ; you do not know who may be 
 waiting to snatch up every little remark you make and bear 
 it to our enemies. 
 
 Lt. Cord — I know, Mrs. Cawls, but I do not fear so long as I 
 am among friends. 
 
 Mrs. Caii'ls — But you have just met us for the first time. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Yes, but Mother has known you and the girls here 
 for several weeks. 
 
 Airs. Cazvls — That is true, but even at that, have you not be- 
 trayed the trust of your government by speaking of the date 
 of your sailing? Let me advise you, young man, to be more 
 careful as to how you guard the trust the nation has confided 
 to you ; by so doing you may also guard the lives of the boys 
 who might otherwise be subjected to submarine attacks, if 
 the date of their sailing is made known. Surely the gov- 
 ernment desires such information concerning her troops kept 
 as secret as possible or she would publish broadcast the date 
 of the sailing of all troops. So please be more careful here- 
 after. Remember German trickery knows no limits. 
 
 Mrs. Cord — Harold, Mrs. Cawls speaks wisely. It would be 
 well if you would heed her advice, then surely no harm will 
 be done. However, your viewpoint is not to be disregarded. 
 I agree with you that one need have no concern wdien with 
 friends such as Mrs. Cawls and the girls here. Yet they 
 might at some time, wholly unintentitDnally and perchance 
 unconsciously drop a remark that would become the work- 
 ing basis for an ever watchful sympathizer of our enemies. 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — That is right, beware ! Remember the fact that 
 you are an army officer makes statements from you all the 
 more desirable. Then again you do not know who may be 
 lurking unseen to catch any news you might utter. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Very well, I stand corrected, and if it will console 
 you and Mother in the least I shall hold my military 
 knowledge entirelv to myself. 
 
26 
 
 Bcrtlia — Just that, that might endanger our boys if such were 
 to become known. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Oh, to be Sure. Who are those fellows coming this, 
 way? 
 
 Mildred — That is Mr. Blake to the right, the other is Mr. Rice. 
 
 Bertha — And Mildred might add that they are quite frequent, 
 visitors here at our cottage. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Perhaps they are headed for this place, now? 
 
 Bertha — Without a doubt. 
 
 Lt. Cord^ (Reaching for hat) Then am I intruding? 
 
 Bertha — Not at all. 
 
 Martha ■ — • They will be pleased to know you, I am sure ; Mr. 
 Rice expressed himself thusly at tennis the other afternoon. 
 (Boys enter from right, Mildred and Martha come down 
 from porch to meet them. Movement very informal and 
 easy. Returning they introduce boys to the lieutenant, 
 casual remarks are passed). 
 
 Joseph ■ — I had heard of your arrival within our little resort and' 
 I have been quite desirous of making your acquaintance. 
 
 Thomas — The appearance of a man in uniform in our quiet 
 little resort v/ill serve to remind us that we are at war. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvis — Then what a blessing that he has come. Krenlin 
 is as happy and as jovial a place as it ever was ; and to walk 
 along the beach or about the resort one would never suspect 
 that a great war is upon us. 
 
 Thomas — So I meant, Mother. His presence will surely awaken 
 the people from their indifference. 
 
 Lt. Cord — I surely hope so, if as you seem to imply they are 
 neglectful or unmindful of their duty to our country. How- 
 ever, I would not that they be constantly reminded of the 
 great war's existence, for such would mar individual pleas- 
 ure ; and we must keep the people's spirits at high pitch or 
 their feelings of horror will detract from the enthusiasm in 
 the cause and thus cause our boys to become more dis- 
 couraged. (Mrs. Cawls and Mrs. Cord reenter house). 
 
 Thomas — I presume that is right. Have you been overseas. 
 Lieutenant ? 
 
 Lt. Cord — Not as yet, but I am getting anxious for the ex- 
 perience. (Leger enters from left and comes upon porch) 
 Camp life becomes so monotonous. 
 
 Leger — That's the way I likes to hear you talk Misser Lieuten- 
 ant. Golly you fellers sure have some chance in this war,, 
 the fellers in the Revolution wasn't in it atall with you. 
 
 Lt. Cord — How do you get that, Leger? 
 
 Leger — Golly, man, the fellers what fought on our side them 
 days didn't get to see very much. But gosh, you fellers 
 have a splendiferous opportimity to see a heap of this world. 
 
27 
 
 and mij^^htv good chances of seein' some of the next. (Ah 
 laugh.) 
 
 Nita — It is not right to speak that way', [.eger. You are mak- 
 ing fun; remember war is awfuk 
 
 Leger — Sherman said somethin' like that; but gollv, lie dicbi't 
 know, cause lots of people died then and it wouldn't be like 
 what you told me ii,i Sunday School, Sunday. \'o\x said that 
 people what went to Heaven didn't have to go to the bad 
 place first. Btit maybe Sherman didn't get to go to Simday 
 School to you. (During latter part of his discourse, Leger 
 has taken an apple from his pocket and has been rubbing 
 it on his shirt sleeve) 
 
 Nita — I hardly think that he did, Leger. But now, aren't you 
 going to give me a bite of your apple ? 
 
 Lcgcr — (Biting otit chtink and ottering it to her) Golly yes, Ld 
 do anything for you. 
 
 Nita — Leger, I am ashamed of you. That was a very dirty 
 thing for you to do. You may eat all of the ap]:)le if that is 
 your way of dividing it. 
 
 Leger — Golly, Miss Nita, what you so spunky about? Didn't 
 you ask for a bite ? How did yoit suppose I was gom' to 
 know how much a bite was if I didn't measure it? 
 
 Lt. Cord — Say, Leger, did you see Raymond this afternoon <! 
 
 Leger — Golly no, what's wrong with him? 
 
 Lt. Cord — Nothing at all, but he was wishing he had some one 
 to go bathing with him this afternoon and I thought maybe 
 you wottld like to go with him. 
 
 Leger — Golly yes, so I do. How did you guess it? Your head 
 must have been made for thinkin'. (Exits to left, in haste.) 
 
 Joseph — Good work, old fellow. You stirely got rid of him 
 easily. 
 
 Thomas — I should say so. My, but isn't he a caution? 
 
 Nita — Yes, but he has a very good heart and if he is treated 
 properly he will make a good man yet. 
 
 Bertha — Perhaps so, but Fm afraid you and I would difter on 
 w^hat would be proper treatment when it came to handling 
 him. 
 
 Lt. Cord - — I am sure that I. would not care to undertake hand- 
 ling one such as he. Tt would be altogether too big a task 
 for me. 
 
 Mildred — Here too: but changing the subject, what do you 
 boys say to a game today? 
 
 Joseph — (To lieutenant ") Lieutenant, do you play tennis? 
 
 Lt. Cord — I used to, but it has been more than a year since I 
 tried my hand at the game. However, if you folks can 
 bear with my awkwardness, I should like to play again. 
 
 Nita — Then you boys wait until we get our tennis shoes and 
 then we will be readv to zo directlv to the courts. 
 
28 
 
 Lt. Cord — That is right. I will have to get my shoes, too. I 
 wonder if Mother hroiight them from home. 
 
 Bertha — I shall ask her. (Girls enter house, meanwhile boys 
 engage in casual ccaiversation. Bertha returning continues) 
 Yes, Lieutenant, she says that they are in your brother's 
 trunk. So if you will wait until we change our shoes we 
 shall walk up that way with you for them. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Thank you, that will be very delightful. 
 
 Joseph — Now, Lieutenant, we are alone, an opportunity I have 
 been looiking for for some time, in fact ever since you landed 
 here. I have something of importance to tell to you, can 
 you promise to keep it quiet? 
 
 Lt. Cord — That, Mr. Rice, I think I can, but only with the un- 
 derstanding that it is something that does not involve any 
 wrong or a violation of any of my previous promises. 
 
 Joseph — This is for the cause of the country. There have been 
 some strange happenings about this place lately ; a few 
 months ago a young fisherman was killed while out in his 
 boat, here on the bay ; a short time thereafter Tom here and 
 I became suspicious of a certain person, whose presence 
 about the place was not known until some time after the 
 murder.- We began to watch him and one evening while 
 following him I found a paper that he had dropped. I know 
 that it belonged to him for I came upon him the next mcrn- 
 ing as he was looking for it. The paper contained a draw- 
 ing of the bay here, and was stamped "Made in Germany". 
 
 Lt. Cord — We must get that man ; is he still in Krenlin ? 
 
 Joseph — Down there by the &dge of the timber. He has built 
 a cabin wholly apart from the rest of the settlement, and 
 there he spends most of his time. 
 
 Lt. Cord — We will go down and raid the place (rising and 
 starting) . Come on. 
 
 Josepli — Not so fast, Lieutenant; wait until tonight or if neces- 
 sary later. We may thus learn more before he suspects us 
 and our motives. If we were to go now he could not help 
 but see us before we could reach his cabin and thus we could 
 learn nothing. If we wait until some dark night we can 
 slip up to his cabin under the very cover of darkness and 
 maybe learn something before he becomes aware of our pres- 
 ence. In the meantime we must watch him whenever he 
 gees to the postoffice to see if he sends or receives any mail. 
 If at any time his mail is of such a nature as to cause us 
 to feel that we are justified we can disclose our suspicions 
 to Hoskins and let him watch the mail. It will also be nec- 
 essary that Ave watch closely that he does not escape from 
 here. Aside from these two precautions I think it will be 
 best for us to keep shaded and watch developments. As yet 
 he does not even suspect that he is being watched. 
 
29 
 
 Lt. Cord — You are right. I would have spoiled all your care- 
 fully laid plans if you had let me have my way. As you say, 
 no harm can be done if we keep him from getting news to 
 and from the place either by mail or by personal ccaveyance 
 and by waiting we may be able to learn something of impor- 
 tance. If it should be that he plans to make the bay a base 
 for submarines we may be able to learn something definite 
 concerning their arrival and then we can communicate the 
 same to Washington and may thus secure the destruction of 
 the entire fleet that Germany may send across here. But I 
 hear the girls coming now ; we must keep this thing exceed- 
 ingly quiet. (Girls enter.) Well, you girls look as though 
 you were regular professionals at the game. I am afraid I 
 will present a rather strange appearance on the court, ap- 
 pearing as I shall be obliged to, in uniform. 
 
 Bertha Oh. I don't think so. Is everyone ready? 
 
 Thomas — The gang's all here. 
 
 Bertha — Then let's go. 
 
 [curtain.] 
 
 ACT IV. Scene I. (Wood scene with cabin to left; Kimes 
 seated within cabin opposite open door.) 
 
 Allen — Nearly two months have passed since I finished laying 
 my line, thereby completing my connections with the sea. 
 Still in that time only two submarines have entered the bay; 
 one having entered early in the evening of July the seven- 
 teenth. That craft left the bay about eleven that night. The 
 other entered at about four in the afternoon of August 
 second and did not leave our waters until about seven the 
 next morning. I wonder if they could have changed their 
 plans and landed elsewhere ; yet I hardly think so for Ger- 
 man obstinacy and determination usually accomplish their 
 ends. Perhaps the blockade of the Allies and the patrol of 
 the United States along the coast have prevented them from 
 entering the bay. But that should not make them so late as 
 all this. They are already a couple of weeks past due now, 
 I believe. (Looks at order, reads.) "Subs will arrive in 
 Passamaquoddy Bay about August sixth," and here it is 
 August twenty-first. But I will wait, I may be needed yet. 
 I had hoped to make the acquaintance of that young army 
 officer that reached here several weeks ago, but as yet I have 
 been unable to do so. He and his people seem to spend a 
 great deal of time with Auntie, but it seems to be my luck 
 to always miss him there, or if I do happen to go there 
 
30 
 
 when he is there he usually leaves shortly after my arrival 
 so I have not had hardly any chance to talk with him. If I 
 could only get ta talk with him when there is no one else 
 around I'll bet I could find out something. But he seems 
 to be in love with Nita, and I suppose that he knows that I 
 am altected the same way and for that reason he does not 
 care for my association. It certainly seems strange that he 
 sh'Ciald be here for so long. But Nita said that he told her 
 he would be here until August the twenty-sixth so he will 
 soon be going. Gee, how I wish I could have made his 
 acquaintance without him suspecting me. If he would only 
 be granted an extension to his furlough then my scheme 
 might be made to work. But I suppose that an extension 
 would simply mean more time for him with Nita and I 
 would have no more chance of making his acquaintance 
 than I have had in the past. I'll say that it has been a good 
 thing for me that Nita promised me her hand before his 
 arrival ; otherwise I might have lost out there. But as it is 
 I have had no fear on that score. Yet I do wish that she 
 had set an earlier date. But God knows what is best ; and 
 as for her word of promise, well it is as good as the law 
 itself. I have known her but a short time yet never was I 
 so moved by womanly grace and charms as when I met her. 
 If I could btit tell to her the secrets of the work that I am 
 doing. But it is not fit, still I do not doubt her on her ability 
 to keep my confidence. (Microphone buzzes.) Ah, there 
 the microphone. (He listens, prepared to write.) Not 
 much to that ; simply a sub streaming into the bay ; no mes- 
 sage at all, but unlike the other this one did not leave the 
 bav but is now resting somewhere along the bottom. That 
 means that I must not leave my cabin today or at least until 
 that craft pulls out. Golly, but it will be a tiresome day, 
 more so than any that I have put in for some time. I haven't 
 even a newspaper tc read and I dare not leave here to go 
 for one. (Leger is heard whistling ofl: right.) Ah, here 
 comes Leger, I will have him go for one for me. No, no, 
 that would never do, he would be apt to tell some one that 
 I had sent him and then they would begin to wonder why 
 I had not run my own errand. And I must not let Leger 
 come in here. (Leaves house, starts sawing wood to right 
 of house.) 
 
 Leger — Golly, see the old bey ride that saw. Gosh, but I am 
 glad that I hain't you. 
 
 Allen — Why, hello Leger! Scare a man to death, will you? 
 AVhat in the world ever brought you down here ? 
 
 Leger — Cause Old Granny wanted me to scrub the front porch 
 for her. But I told her I couldn't because I didn't have any- 
 
31 
 
 thing to scrub it with. S'C when she went to get the water 
 and things I beat it. 
 
 Allen — Leger, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for playing 
 such a mean trick on your grandmother. 
 
 Leger — I don't see why. I didn't play any trick on her anyway. 
 She didn't tell me to wait, did she? And I told her I 
 couldn't scrub her old porch, didn't I ? And then after I 
 toild her that how did I know but what maybe she had 
 changed her mind? And anyhow I didn't kerzactly know 
 that she had went after the water, I just kinder thought that 
 she did. Golly, did you think I was goin' to hang around 
 and wait for her to tell me a second time ? Not much, i 
 don't believe in havin' to be told twice to do a thing. Siie 
 knc'wed more about how she wanted it done than I did any- 
 how, so what's the use of me workin' all the time ? 
 
 Allen — I am afraid that you are becoming rather lazy, aren't 
 you i^ 
 
 Leger — Golly no, I hain't lazy. I just didn't want to work, that's 
 all. But I know what's the matter with you, I do. You're 
 just mad 'cause that young soldier what has leather boots 
 with the bottoms cut out is cuttin' you out with Miss Nita. 
 I know, you can't fool me, that's what you can't. Golly, 
 that young feller stays over there with Miss Nita all the time 
 when you hain't there. And he plays tennis with her and 
 everything. 
 
 Allen — Well, well, but do you blame him for liking her? Don't 
 you think she is nice ? 
 
 Leger — Golly yes, but I'm afraid she likes him better'n she does 
 me. 
 
 Allen — Now, Leger, do not become discouraged, I think she 
 likes everyone, and I know that slie likes you. 
 
 Leger — Golly, I'm. goin' to ask her. I likes her a whole lot I 
 know, and Joe and Tom and you and everybody likes her. 
 And do you know I think that loe is helpin' that soldier 
 feller? 
 
 Allen — Why do you think so, Leger ? 
 
 Leger — Cause I saw them sittin' on Mammy Cawl's porch one 
 day and they was talkin' kinder low like, like fellers does 
 when they talks about their girls, you know. Microphone 
 buzzes during conversation.) 
 
 Allen — Well, Leger, let's you and I work together, too. You 
 run along up town and watch them; then tomorrow you 
 oome back again and tell me all that you can find out about 
 all of them. Now be sure and watch closely but do not let 
 them know that we are working together. 
 
 Leger — GoWy no; won't that be scrumptious? 
 
 Allen — But hurry, Leger, or they may go away some place and 
 you might then be unable to find them. 
 
32 
 
 Leger — ( I'ulling at suspenders and walking out listlessly) — • 
 Spects I had better hurry, they might be gettin' married if 
 1 don't watch them. 
 
 Allen — ■ Golly, I thought that I never would get rid of him, and 
 that old microphone may have been bearing me good news. 
 (Goes back to cabin.) He is always coming around when 
 he is not wanted, and now maybe he has spoiled everything 
 for me today. Yet I should not lay the blame altogether on 
 him. If I had had good sense I would not have left the 
 cabin but would have locked the door from the inside and 
 kept quiet until he had gone away. In that way I could 
 have kept account of all maneuverings in the bay. As it is 
 I do not know whether my submarine is there or noi. But 
 I suppose that I ought to consider myself fortunate in hav- 
 ing obtained trace of this one. Supposing that Leger had 
 come along just before it came within the reach of my 
 apparatus, then I wculd have known nothing about its com- 
 ing and of course would not have to wonder as to whether 
 it had given me the slip. And such things could have hap- 
 pened, and may have been happening right along. Day after 
 day I have abandoned my hut when I did not need to do so, 
 simply to go bathing, or maybe for a w^alk, or a game with 
 Nita, when such could have been postponed as easily as not. 
 But love seems blind ; it often causes one to neglect his 
 duties for pleasant moments either in company with, or 
 thoughts of, her upon whom he has centered his affections. 
 Such is the way of us Americans, we permit personal feel- 
 ings to interfere with our duties. Oh, how I wish that I 
 had more of the German subjection of self. Had I but told 
 Nita I am sure she would not have asked me to have neg- 
 lected my post,- — ^ she is so thoughtful, so considerate of 
 one's duty to the cause he supports. I will tell her all to- 
 night, nothing will I withhold from her. Yet should I ? To 
 those to whom I have promised my allegiance and from 
 whom I have accepted this trust, I have sworn secrecy. No, 
 no ! I must not, I cannot ! A promise is the test of man. 
 I have given mine, I have no right to retract it. I do not 
 feel that it is an evil promise or that the cause for which it 
 was given is unjust. By my promise I shall stand the test. 
 Not that I feel that promises need never be broken, for I 
 do not. An unrighteous promise unbroken shows forth a 
 man just as surely and as truly as a righteous one reveals 
 his worth if it is broken. But my promise is a righteous 
 one, righteously given to a righteous cause of a righteous 
 people. I shall prove my worth. May Heaven help me. 
 (Microphone buzzes, he listens, prepared to write, waits.) 
 Another U-Boat enters the bay, and like the first it too lies 
 still on the bottom. It may be that it is the same one that 
 
entered a while ago. for that erne could have slipped out 
 while I was out talking with Leger, but it hardly sounded 
 like the same one. But if it should be it makes no difference. 
 I know now that there is at least one sub with which I have 
 connections. After all, perhaps I have not done so awfully 
 wrong. Had I neglected Nita entirely 1 would net have 
 been about the resort at all and consequently I could not 
 have avoided suspicion. At the same time I should have 
 lost, my love. All in all it is best as it is. True love does 
 not interfere with the works of man if man's plans are in 
 harmciny with the will of the Divine. He never ceases to 
 watch over all, and by His plan love is essential to man's 
 existence if one is to enjoy the fullness of life. Nita, you 
 are to be mine, not of my own choice alone, nor of yours, 
 but of both guided by a higher power — the power of one 
 who sees not only the present and the past, but the future as 
 it should be and as it will be. True to that guidance I shall 
 live with the present and trust to the future. 
 
 [curtain.] 
 
 SCENE n. (Scene same as Scene I. Time lo: 15 on night of 
 same day. Night is dark and stormy. Scene opens with 
 Allen receiving at microphone before open door.) 
 
 Allen — Another roll call ; evidently one has not arrived. Per- 
 haps it has been lost or destroyed while on the way. Already 
 it seems that a whole crew is at hand, seven besides the 
 leader are now in the bay. These have all been here since 
 noon. And twice since that time the roll has been called 
 and each time one was missing. I wonder if they will wait 
 longer for its arrival, surely not ; an excellent night is at 
 hand for the work and surely they will not miss the advan- 
 tage that it offers. This must surely be the last roll call, 
 action must begin soon. (Comes out of cabin, looks toward 
 Krenlin.) Already all is quiet in the village; if the people 
 there but knew the secrets of yonder bay (glances toward 
 bay). What, did I see a hght? Another? Then I was not 
 mistaken and from the position of those flashes Rock Island 
 will surely be the place from which action must begin. I 
 must reach there as soon as possible. (Dashes out right, 
 leaving door open. After pause Lt. Cord, Joseph and 
 Thomas enter from left, finding door open.) 
 
 Joseph — The rascal has given us the slip, and for all we know 
 maybe he has been doing so for the last few weeks. 
 
34 
 
 Thomas — Now, Joe, don't get fussed, if he has been in the habit 
 of leaving he has been more careful in the past than he has 
 shown himself to be on this occasion. And what is more 
 there has been a light here in the cabin every night for some 
 time past and we have by looking through the cracks in the 
 walls been able to get glimpses of him as he would move 
 around. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Tom is right. This is the night for which Kimes 
 has been waiting. Practically every night since you made 
 known to me your suspicions has been clear. This is the 
 first dark night, and in his desire to get away he has neg- 
 lected to close his door. I am sorry that we let him get 
 away this time ; but now we will have a chance to look 
 around among his possessions and in that way may be able 
 to find out something before he returns. 
 
 Joseph — You are right. Lieutenant. Tom, you go outside and 
 stand watch. If you hear or see anyone whistle, and we 
 shall seek cover. 
 
 Tlioiiias — You goose, couldn't he hear me whistle as well as 
 you could? I will accidentally come upon him and will 
 engage him in ocnversation and then suddenly strangle as 
 a sign to you. 
 
 Joseph — Any old way, just so you keep him from finding us 
 here. But hurry, he may be coming any time. (Thomas 
 exits to the right ; the lieutenant and Joseph look about the 
 room, with the aid of their flashlights. Joseph discovers 
 microphone, puts it to his ear.) Say, Lieutenant, do you 
 know what this thing is ? 
 
 Lt. Cord. — (Looks at thing a minute, then holds it to his ear.) 
 Joseph Rice, we have been beaten. He has played his game 
 better than I had ever suspected. No wonder he built his 
 cabin here at the edge 'of the timber; nor is it any wonder 
 that we have not been able to catch him in his communica- 
 tions with the enemy. By this simple device he has been 
 able to sit right here in his cabin and have unlimited con- 
 nection with his friends, whether they were out at sea, in 
 Canada, or here in the United States. Listen! Pauses and 
 writes.) Thank fortune I have not forgotten the Morse 
 alphabet. Let's see, (pauses) here it is, "Admiral has gone 
 for island, will report at 12:25". 
 
 Joseph — That must be that little rocky island out here in the 
 bay. No one lives on it and it would be just the place for 
 such work. Campabello and Deer Islands, a little farther 
 out, are inhabited, and consequently espionage work from 
 such a base would likely be detected. 
 
 Lt. Cord — You are likely right. Shall one of us keep watch 
 here while the icther two go to the island? 
 
35 
 
 Joseph — Is there any way to make a reply? 
 
 Lt. Cord — None that I can see. 
 
 Joseph — Then they will not likely wire again. That message 
 has likely been a summons to him to meet them there. Con- 
 sequently all three of us had better go to the island, and go 
 well armed ; we do not know what we may have to encoun- 
 ter. It is a certainty that Kimes and the admiral will be 
 there, and we do not know how many the admiral may take 
 
 with him. . i 
 
 [curtain. J 
 
 SCENE III. (Scene rocky island, seaweed overhanging from 
 ledge ; Kimes hidden beneath seaweeds. Mrs. Cawls and 
 Nita each dressed in black suits of men's clothing standing 
 upon rocks. Town clock strikes twelve.) 
 
 Nita — Was not that twelve ? 
 
 Mrs. Cazds — Yes, my dear. We shall not likely have much 
 longer to wait ; I hope not anyhow. They know that we 
 must get back before morning, and I do not think they will 
 keep us waiting here any longer than on previous occasions. 
 The letter stated that we would be met at the usual place 
 and time, and likely on this date. The twc flashes a little 
 over an hour and a half ago, told us that they would be 
 here. W^e shall not be disappointed, they will come soon. 
 
 Nita — I know, mother, but I have been wondering if there could 
 be such a thing as their lights having been seen and they 
 were driven awa}- ? You know they signaled so much earlier 
 than usual. Why, the people in Krenlin had hardly put out 
 their lights when the two flashes w^ere seen. Or on the other 
 hand do you suppose that some one could have learned of 
 our scheme and so gave the signal to find us out : 
 
 Mrs. Cazds — I hardly think so. No doubt they arrived 
 earlier in the day, and were awaiting the time when all was 
 quiet in Krenlin, and consequently after the last light had 
 been extinguished they felt safe in giving us the signal. 
 
 Nita — But if they are not to meet us here earlier than on pre- 
 vious occasions w^e have over an hour to wait. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvh — I believe we shall socii see them. I think that is 
 the reason they signaled earlier than for common. They 
 may have other work to do and may want to get out of here 
 earlier than usual. 
 
 Nita — Listen, I believe they are coming now. (Submarine is 
 heard approaching at rear of island. Admiral accompanied 
 bv two others comes from rear of island. Mrs. Cawls and 
 
36 
 
 Nita stand with arms raised as soon as Nita ceases speak- 
 ing; just before the admiral comes in sight he flashes a Hght, 
 whereupon Mrs. Cawls and Nita cross their arms above 
 their heads.) 
 
 Airs. Cazvls — Ganz gut. 
 
 Admiral — Das ist gut. (Sakites.) And what have our good 
 • women for us tonight ? 
 
 Mrs. Cawls — A division of the American army is to sail from 
 Baltimore, Maryland, August the twenty-eighth; just coe 
 week from today. 
 
 Admiral — And the source of the information? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — An army officer who is spending the summer in 
 our resort. 
 
 Admiral — And what is his rank? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — A lieutenant. 
 
 Admiral — And why is he not on duty? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — ^ He was given a month's furlough previous to his 
 sailing, and so he brought his mother and little brother to 
 our resort for that time. 
 
 Admiral — Why did he choose Krenlin? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — That I do not know. 
 
 Nita — Sir, I have endeavored to become quite intimate with 
 him in order to learn all that I possibly could concerning 
 him and the American forces, and all that I have been able 
 to learn concerning his reasons for choosing Krenlin is be- 
 cause of its far northerly position, and its quietness. He 
 being desirous of getting his mother far away from her 
 usual work for his last visit with her before he sailed. He 
 is none too certain that he will ever return and so he wanted 
 his last days with his mother as free from care and worry 
 as possible. 
 
 Admiral — And his last days they will be. Eight submarines lie 
 quietly on the bottom of the bay, ready to sail forth at my 
 command to meet the audacious Americans. Has our young 
 lady made love to him ? 
 
 Nita — I have not ; I have another lover. 
 
 Admiral — But it is for the Fatherland. 
 
 Nita — I have not seen where I could have done more for the 
 beloved Fatherland than I have done. He has spoken freely 
 with us as friends. 
 
 Admiral — Does he suspect you? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — He does not. At the time he mentioned the date 
 for the sailing of the troops I cautioned him to speak with 
 care and he accepted the advice as though it were prompted 
 by patriotic reasons. 
 
Z7 
 
 Admiral — Has he mentioned the date of the saiHng to any other 
 than you? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — His mother and three other girls that stay with 
 me were present at the time. But he promised nc't to 
 mention it again. The other girls are patriotic and loyal 
 Americans and will not tell it. 
 
 Admiral — What excuse did you give them for coming here 
 tonight ? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — They were asleep when we stole from the cot- 
 tage. 
 
 Admiral — And you are certain there is no other person about 
 the resort who knows the date of the sailing? 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — Absolutely confident of it. 
 
 Admrial — Then lest the Lieutenant's mother might become sus- 
 picious of you and make known such things as to reveal 
 the fact that it was you who disclosed the secret to us we 
 shall call for you at this place during the night of August 
 the thirty-first, and take you with us back to our beloved 
 Fatherland. Such good work as you have done makes you 
 deserving of the utmost protection that His Royal High- 
 . ness can afford you. I would take you tonight, but your 
 absence from the resort at this time would create interest 
 and in searching for you we might be discovered. You will 
 not be in danger before we return. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — I hardly agree with what you have said ; we can 
 leave the resort within the next week and return to our 
 homes in the state of Ohio without arousing the least of 
 suspicion either here or there. From there we may be able 
 to serve the Fatherland and His Royal Highness, Emperor 
 Wilhelm, to even greater advantage that we have as yet 
 "been able to do. 
 
 Admiral — It is well. You bespeak yourselves as loyal and de- 
 voted subjects of His Most Gracious Highness. Guten tag, 
 meine guten damen. (Departs). 
 
 Mrs. Catvls and Nita — Adieu, der edelste Herr. 
 
 Mrs. Cazvls — (After brief pause). Now we must hurry back 
 to the mainland. (They turn and advance toward the rear, 
 Allen clambers over the ledge). 
 
 Allen — Stop, hands up! (draws knives) Face about! (as they 
 
 turn Nita reaches for pocket; Allen advances) take that 
 
 hand from that pocket or I will stab. (Lt. Cord, Joseph 
 
 Rice, and Thomas Blake come upon the scene from the 
 
 rear). ^ i 
 
 [curtain. I 
 
38 
 
 ACT V. (Scene outdoors. May be same as in Act II. Allen 
 Kimes is sitting upon a log and digging into the ground 
 with a small stick. I.t. Cord enters.) 
 
 Lt. Cord — Mr. Kimes, the Major presents his compliments and 
 asks me to state that no further stay of execution is to be 
 granted. Also that the President has refused to set aside 
 or to alter the verdict of the court martial. 
 
 Allen — That means that at eight tonight the sentence must be 
 duly executed. 
 
 Lt. Cord — It seems that it must. The awf ulness of the deed 
 and the assumed innocence of the conspirators have found 
 no favor with the Major. Nor do I think that, since the 
 activities of the day following the discovery of the true 
 spies, public sentiment has favored leniency. 
 
 Allen — It is true. Such crimes meditated upon and carried out 
 in utter defiance of the law, by persons wholly cognizant of 
 the results, are deserving of the severest of punishments. 
 Yet I cannot help but dread that the fatal hour must come. 
 
 Lt. Cord — And to think, Mr. Kimes, that throughout it all, not 
 only I but Mr. Rice, and Mr. Blake, had suspected you as 
 being a traitor to our country. Not until the night that we 
 came upon you as you halted the guilty ones on the island, 
 did I even so much as think of the government using her 
 secret service men here. Even then I was at first inclined 
 to think that the little transaction that we saw there was 
 simply a ruse to throw us off the track ; but of course your 
 statements and credentials as presented at the court martial 
 have proven your innocence and established your identity 
 beyond question. Now I trust that you will forgive us for 
 harboring such thoughts of you ; you, who by the very actions 
 for which we were condemning you, were unearthing the 
 greatest conspiracy against our country that has as yet been 
 discovered. 
 
 Allen — Rest assured, my dear Sir, that I hold nothing against 
 any of you. Such as you were permitted to learn, justified 
 you in your suspicions. You were simply doing your duty 
 as true Americans. But, Lieutenant, something of greater 
 concern than that of which you speak is bearing down upon 
 me ; my heart is heavily laden. May I speak with you as a. 
 friend ? 
 
 Lt. Cord — Gladly will I hear you. 
 
 Allen — This has been a trying time for me. The thoughts of 
 my duty of the very near future are appalling in the extreme. 
 To me it is the taking of the blood of one's very own, and 
 I wonder if there is any way by which I might get out of it. 
 Do you know that Mrs. Cawls is my aunt, my mother's 
 own sister? And to draw her still nearer to me she was 
 
39 
 
 permitted to spend a great deal of time in our home during 
 my childhood. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Can it be true? Yet I can see no way out of it for 
 you at this stage of the game. But since the execution of this 
 punishment has developed upon us I shall assume that of 
 your aunt and let you become accountable for the younger 
 ladys' receipt of the punishment. Such an arrangement will 
 please me the better for really I had begun to love Miss 
 Collins. Her pleasing ways, her apparent whole-hearted 
 devotion to her conscientious convictions, and her assumed 
 open-mindedness had placed her within my estimation in a 
 class by herself. 
 
 Allen — Very well, let it be agreed as you have said, and hard 
 though it may be for me to take Nita's life, I shall by so 
 doing be able to assure Mother, that Auntie's blood was not 
 spilt by my hands. 
 
 Lt. Cord - — And I can have the assurance that my hand was not 
 turned against her to whom I was beginning to look with 
 longing love. Do you know, Mr. Kimes, it is hard to cast 
 aside one's love even in such a time as this? When the one 
 whom you cherish has been proven guilty, yes more than 
 that, when you know her to be guilty of the darkest of 
 crimes, treason. 
 
 Allen — It is hard indeed. Oh why should such a love have 
 .ever been fostered? Why should one so pleasing, so at- 
 tractive, and so lovable as Nita, ever be permitted to stoop 
 to such a deed? Lieutenant, I hope I am not transgressing 
 upon your pleasures when I tell you that I too was in love 
 with her; and what is more she had given me the promise 
 of her hand so soon as this awful carnage should cease. 
 
 Lt. Cord — Indeed. Then I cannot help but admire you the 
 more for having loved her. Her charms and her absolute 
 devotion to the causes she chose to champion, and now her 
 devotion to that cause even unto death, cannot help but win 
 for her the esteem of any mortal being. 
 
 Allen — But now, Lieutenant, I have a suggestion to offer con- 
 cerning the manner in which we shall carry out the verdict 
 of the court-martial. The verdict simply requires that they 
 be shot at eight P. M. on this date, and you and I have been 
 designated as the executioners. 
 
 Lt. Cord — I believe you are right. 
 
 Allen - — And since no more has been said I believe that we are 
 at liberty to supply the missing details. The shooting is 
 bad indeed and much to be dreaded, especially so since it 
 concerns those whom we have come to know so intimately. 
 But worse to me than the shooting is the fall of the bodies. 
 Already within my ears I hear the thud of those dead bodies, 
 the bodies of those whom I love, one of mv own blood, the 
 
40 
 
 other my betrothed, as they fall to the ground ; such a sen- 
 sation if permitted to materialize will be lasting with me ;: 
 and the more so should the sudden expulsion of air from 
 the lungs produce a recongnizable sound, my heart must 
 stand still. Such will be more than I can stand. Therefore 
 I suggest that we bind each to a tree so that when the 
 deadly shots have been fired no thud of the falling bodies 
 need be borne to our ears. Then when we have regained 
 our self-composure we can lay them quietly down with the 
 utmost respect to the bodies. 
 
 Lt. Cord — An excellent idea. I shall go for the ropes now. We 
 must have everything in readiness so that no time need be, 
 lost. 
 
 AIIoi — Yes, the hour draws near. ( Lt. Cord exits left). Oh, 
 how I would that this awful duty might pass from me. 
 Dear Auntie, always so kind and loving, always so thought- 
 ful of mother and of me. Why did you do this? Could 
 money have been the item? Oh God, is liberty so little 
 prized and loyalty so lacking as to be directed and com- 
 manded by the gold of man? Heaven forbid. Oh God, why 
 hast Thou permitted this to be so ? Why hast Thou per- 
 mitted a government to develop that would not only stoop 
 so low as to undermine another nation but to undermine the 
 families of those who would be faithful and loyal to the 
 government to whom they owe their allegiance? Germany,, 
 you must pay for this. Would that I, personally, were able 
 to make vou answer for it all. You have robbed me of my 
 aunt and of mv love. May the very semblance of the na- 
 tionality that is yours, founded as it is upon militarism with 
 its deeds of horror be wrested from you before the end of 
 this struggle. (As he draws to a close he rises in a defiant 
 attitude). 
 
 Lf. Cord — (Returning with ropes) Did you say to bind them 
 to trees? ■ 
 
 Allen — I think that will be the best. We shall tie one to the 
 tree there to the left and the other to this tree here by me.. 
 And now we must hurry ; time is growing short. 
 
 Lt. Cord — What shall we do with the bodies ? 
 
 Allen — We cannot give them a respectable burial, but we can 
 treat their bodies with respect. Accordingly I have made 
 two rude caskets, the best that I could make with the ma- 
 terial that I could secure ; within these we shall lay them 
 away. I also think best to consign them to Mother Earth. 
 And as Auntie so loved Krenlin, and Nita so loved the out- 
 door life, I think best to lay them away here in the woods 
 which Bryant has So truthfully said: "Were God's first tem- 
 ples". Consequently I have dug two graves side by side on 
 yonder hilltop. 
 
41 
 
 Lt. Cord — A'ery well. Now let us go for the offenders. (Exeunt 
 left ; after pause they return with women, both of whom 
 are blindfolded, and bind them loosely to trees, Mrs. Cawls 
 to the left, Nita to the right ; they must be so bound as to 
 allow free use of forearms.) 
 
 Allen — (Speaking while binding them to trees) Auntie, is 
 there nothing I can do for you before the end must come? 
 Is there any promise consistent with my honor and duty that 
 I can make to you? And have you no word for mother? 
 
 Mrs: Cazvls — Nothing. (Lt. Cord and Allen take posts and 
 draw pistols). 
 
 Allen — Have either of you a last word or request ? 
 
 A^ita — (With laugh) If we had aught to say, it should have 
 been said before this. 
 
 Boys — (Leveling pistols) Then Good-Bye. (Both fire. Mrs. 
 Cawls body reels back of tree as though to conceal wound 
 and flowing blood. Allen has fired wide. Nita snatches 
 blindfold from eyes and exclaims) 
 
 Nita — -Why do you hesitate? That is the way with you Amer- 
 icans — personal love and hatred conie before the love of 
 country. With us. the love for the Fatherland surpasses all 
 else. (Laughs) Why do you not shoot? Will womanlv 
 love direct your cowardly acts? (Allen regains himself, 
 fires the second time, this time aiming true ; Nita clasps, her 
 hands over heart releasing cork to a bottle containing blood ; 
 Bottle having been concealed within bosom ; at same time 
 she exclaims: -'Deutschland Uber Alles." (Hands drop) 
 
 Alleri — America is avenged. 
 
 TABLEAUX : — Goddess of Liberty appears at center waving 
 American flag. Chorus from the right and left, sing: 
 "And the star spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
 O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave." 
 
 [curtain.] 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 973 679 9 
 
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