Bob Cook and the German Spy | Page 2

seventeen; they
wouldn't take you."

The Cook family were seated at the dinner table, mother, father, and
three children, the two boys referred to above and a young daughter,
Louise, just thirteen years of age. Congress had that day declared war
on Germany, and naturally that was the one thing in every one's mind.
Crowds in front of the newspaper offices had greeted the news from
Washington with wild enthusiasm, patriotic parades had been
organized, and from almost every house and office streamed the Stars
and Stripes.
Bob Cook had been among the crowds, and his young mind and heart
were fired with patriotism and enthusiasm. A company of soldiers from
the Thirty-ninth Infantry called out the week before had caused him to
cheer and hurl his cap high in the air, while all the time he envied the
men in khaki.
"I hate to think of you enlisting, Harold," said Mrs. Cook sadly.
"Why?" demanded Harold earnestly. "Don't you think it is my duty to
offer my services to my country! I'm free; no one is dependent upon
me."
"I know," agreed his mother, "but somehow I don't like to have my boy
go over to France and be killed. Let some one else go."
"Suppose every one said that," exclaimed Harold. "We shouldn't have
much of an army and our country wouldn't be very well defended,
would it?"
"Let him go," said Mr. Cook quietly to his wife. "I don't want him
killed any more than you do, but there are some things worse than that.
Suppose he was afraid to go; you'd be ashamed of your son then I
know."
"How do you know I'm going to get killed anyway?" demanded Harold.
"Every one that goes to war doesn't get killed. At any rate it's sort of
gruesome to sit up and hear your family talk as if you were just as good
as dead already."

"True enough," laughed Mr. Cook. "When does your examination
come?"
"Next Monday."
"Will you wear a uniform?" asked Louise.
"Why, certainly," said Harold, swelling out his chest at the thought.
"I wish I could enlist," sighed Bob.
"You're too young, I told you," said Harold scornfully.
"I'll bet I could fight as well as you could," said Bob stoutly. "Besides,
I'm big for my age and maybe if I told them I was older than I really am
they might take me."
"Don't do that, Bob," said his father earnestly. "Don't lie about it."
"They'd find you out anyway," exclaimed Harold. "You can't fool these
recruiting officers."
"I'd like to get to France and see the trenches, and see the soldiers, and
the guns, and the fighting," Bob insisted.
"Do you realize that Harold may never get to France even if he does
enlist and get a commission?" remarked Mr. Cook.
"Why not?"
"First of all on account of Mexico."
"Do you think the Mexicans will make trouble?" inquired Harold.
"I shouldn't be at all surprised," said Mr. Cook. "If they think we have
our hands full with Germany those bandits may stir up a fuss and then
troops would have to be sent down there."
"And Harold might be one of them," laughed Bob. "That would be a

joke, wouldn't it?"
"I don't see why," cried Harold warmly. "If troops were needed in
Mexico and I was one of those sent, I'd be serving my country just the
same."
"Of course you would," his father agreed. "It might be though that you
wouldn't even get out of High Ridge."
"You think they'd keep us right here?" demanded Harold, his face
falling.
"Possibly," said Mr. Cook. "It might be that you'd have your hands full
too."
"Do you think the Germans could land an army and invade this
country?" exclaimed Mrs. Cook in alarm.
"Not for a minute do I think that," said Mr. Cook.
"Then what do you mean?"
"Aren't there lots of Germans in the country already?"
"Do you think they'd make trouble?"
"Most of them would be peaceable enough, but some of them would
only be too glad to blow up some factories, or railroads, or things like
that."
"They've been doing that for the last two years," said Harold, "but I
don't see what there is in High Ridge."
"There's my company," said Mr. Cook. He was president of the High
Ridge Steel Company.
"But you don't make war supplies," exclaimed Mrs. Cook. "Why
should they want to blow up your plant?"

"Up until now we haven't manufactured war supplies," Mr. Cook
corrected. "This afternoon, however, we took a contract from the
Government to make high explosive shells. And, what is more, we are
going to do it at cost price so we shan't make a cent out of it."
"I think that's fine," said Bob enthusiastically. "Perhaps you'll have to