The Camp Fire Girls Do Their Bit; Or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos

by Hildegard G. Frey

The Winnebagos flocked out into the street and looked at his remains, and almost wept as poor old Hercules heartbrokenly lifted up the body of his slain darling. The Italian laborers threw down their tools and gathered around them and a crowd collected from all sides.

"Why didn't you turn aside?" exclaimed the Captain to the driver of the truck, who seemed to be the only one not sorry about the accident, and muttered angrily in answer to the Captain's question. He looked defiantly at the Winnebagos and at Hercules fondling the dead goat, and then he actually laughed at them. "Serves the beast right," he muttered, and Sahwah, looking indignantly at him, saw that his left hand reached up for his ear, pulled down the lobe and released it with a jerk. A little electric thrill went through Sahwah at the sight of that gesture. There was only one person she had ever seen do that. That person was the artist, Eugene Prince. In spite of the black matted hair that covered the man's forehead, in spite of the black beard that covered the lower half of his face, the tattered cap, the blue shirt and shabby working clothes covered with red brick dust, something seemed to tell her that this was the man the federal officers were now searching for high and low.

"That's the spy!" she shouted at the top of her voice, to the utter amazement of the others, but the driver started as if he had been shot.

Immediately Slim and the Captain jumped on him and he fought like a tiger to get free. Others in the crowd came to the rescue and before long Waldemar von Oldenbach was safely locked up, minus his black wig and false beard, awaiting the arrival of Agent Sanders. With his native cunning he had decided that the safest place for him was to stay right in Oakwood after the discovery of the contents of his sketching portfolio, because everyone would think he would try to escape. So he had disguised himself as a foreign laborer and joined a gang that was paving the street, the last place where anyone would look for him, and he would probably never have been discovered if he had not run down the goat that had discovered his secret in the first place. Even then, no one would ever have looked for Waldemar von Oldenbach in the person of that swarthy, unkempt laborer, if it had not been for the sharp eyes of Sahwah the Sunfish, who noticed everything, and never forgot anything she saw. Her remembering the peculiar gesture of the artist had been his undoing.

Sahwah was once more the heroine of the Winnebagos. "How did you ever do it?" said Hinpoha enviously.

"Oh, I just noticed it," replied Sahwah without laying any claim whatever to detective ability. Sahwah's ability to talk about her achievements was as short as her power to think and act was long.

When Agent Sanders came to Oakwood to take the artist away with him he asked to see the Winnebagos and complimented them all highly upon the help they had given in catching the wily lieutenant, von Oldenbach. "I wish to express the thanks of the government," he said formally, "in consequence of the distinguished service rendered your country----"

Sahwah giggled out loud, and Agent Sanders paused and looked at her with an inquiring expression.

"That's just what Nyoda said to Kaiser Bill!" said Sahwah, with another giggle. Then they all laughed, and the Winnebagos discovered that Agent Sanders' eyes were as kindly as they were sharp.

The Winnebagos held a jubilee that night on the Council Rock with Nyoda. She was going back to St. Margaret's in a few days because Sherry would be in the hospital for some time yet and she wanted to be with him until he was well, so the visit of the Winnebagos to Carver House had come to a close. Lieutenant Allison had been taken back to his camp that afternoon, right after he had seen and identified Lieutenant von Oldenbach. He still wore Sahwah's picture around his neck when he left, but it was now inclosed in Sahwah's own locket, and there was a fresh entry in his address book, as there was also in Sahwah's. The smashed plane had been taken away from the Devil's Punch Bowl and there was nothing in the placidly murmuring water to hint at the tragedy that had almost taken place. High up over the water, on the Council Rock, the Winnebagos held solemn ceremonial.