When the Army Boys got back to the room the orator was winding up his speech. He finished with an eloquent peroration, and his hearers broke into applause as the last word left his lips.
Frank leaped into the room with his rifle leveled directly at the leader.
"Hands up!" he shouted.
At the same instant, the rest of the Army Boys followed their leader, their rifles sweeping the room.
The effect of the sudden entrance of the Army Boys was electric.
With a roar of rage and chagrin, the conspirators made as though they would rush on the intruders. But the wicked looking muzzles of the army rifles and the look of determination in the faces of the boys who held them produced a change.
Slowly the hands went up until all were raised above their heads.
"Hold them there now," commanded Frank. "The first one who moves is a dead man."
Most of them could not understand the words, but as they looked into Frank's eyes they had not the slightest doubt of his meaning, and they stood like so many statues, only their eyes and the working of their features betraying the impotent anger that possessed them.
"Now, Tom," said Frank, without removing his eyes from those of the German leader, "go over these men and take whatever weapons they may have, while the rest of you keep the bunch covered."
Tom laid aside his rifle and did the work with promptness and thoroughness, and his search was rewarded by a considerable collection of knives and pistols. To these he added the rifles that had been leaning against the wall, and removed the lot from the room.
"They haven't anything left more dangerous than a toothpick," he reported to Frank, with a grin, as he picked up his rifle and resumed his place.
"Fine and dandy," remarked Frank.
"Now," he went on, addressing the prisoners, "back up to that wall and sit down on the floor. Quick now!Sitzen Sie sich. Verstehen Sie?"
They understood, and showed that they did by obeying, though if looks could kill Frank would have been blasted by the venomous glance that the German leader shot at him.
Only then did Frank permit himself to relax. He lowered his rifle with a sense of relief.
"We've got them corralled now," he remarked to his comrades. "Let your rifles down, boys, but keep your eyes on them. If any one of them tries to make a break, we can pot him before he gets to his feet."
"Well, now that we've got them what are we going to do with them?" asked Billy.
"Sort of white elephant on our hands it seems to me," said Tom, in some perplexity.
"No more sleep for any of us to-night, I guess," observed Bart.
"Oh, I don't know," said Frank. "Two of us will be enough to guard these fellows at a time, while the others get a few winks. I think I'll question the fellow who seems to be running this shooting match and see if I can get anything out of him."
He motioned to the leader to get to his feet and come forward, which the latter did with a thunderous frown on his face.
Frank had a faint hope that the man would be able to speakEnglish, in which case his task would be comparatively easy. Butwhen he asked the captive in German whether he could speakEnglish, the latter replied with a surly negative.
So Frank was compelled to muster his limited vocabulary and pick out enough German to make himself understood. In that language, then, the questioning proceeded.
"What were you men doing here?" asked Frank.
"By what authority do you ask me?" the prisoner responded. "Since when has it been a crime for Germans to meet together on German soil?"
"That depends on the purpose of the meeting," answered Frank. "You may be on German soil, but just now you are under American laws, and they don't allow such meetings unless permission is received in advance. Besides, Germans are forbidden to have arms. How about those weapons we've just taken away from you?"
"If there are any laws like that they ought to be broken," replied the prisoner impudently.
"Don't get gay with me now," said Frank, with an ominous glitter in his eyes. "We taught your armies a lesson not long ago, and you'll find that we can teach you civilians just as easily."
"Our armies were not beaten," the man answered with a sudden flare of rage. "They could have fought for years if it had not been for the hunger at home."
"They gave a pretty good imitation of beaten armies then," said Frank sarcastically, "and I had an idea that the Americans had something to do with the beating. But that's neither here nor there. What were you planning to do at Coblenz?"
"Nothing," growled the prisoner.
"That doesn't go with me," replied Frank. "I happened to hear some of that speech of yours and Coblenz was sprinkled through it rather thickly. Suppose you hand over to me that map with the red dots marked on it."
"I have no map," the man replied, a look of apprehension coming into his eyes.
"Lying again, are you?" said Frank. "Bart, cover this fellow with your rifle while Billy goes through his pockets."
The prisoner's fist clenched, but a prod of Bart's rifle made him think better of it, and Billy drew from one of the inside pockets of the man's coat the identical map over which the group had been poring when Bart first came upon the scene.
"That'll do," said Frank. "Go back to the wall and sit down. Your case will be attended to by the American authorities at Coblenz."
The German, with a muttered imprecation, did as he was told, and while Bart kept his eye on the group of prisoners, Frank and the other Army Boys looked over the map.
They had been so long in Coblenz that they knew the town from end to end, and could readily identify the places that on the map were splashed with red. They included all the places occupied as headquarters by staffs of the various brigades and divisions of the American Army, as well as the American hospital and other buildings devoted to army uses.
"What do the red marks mean, do you think?" asked Billy, with lively curiosity.
"Blood or bombs or something of that kind, I suppose," replied Frank. "Taking this with what I gathered from the fellow's speech, I think it marks places that are to be blown up. It looks like a general uprising against American rule. I think that Army headquarters will find this little sheet of paper an interesting thing to study. And it wouldn't surprise me very much if our genial friend over there should find himself before long standing before a firing squad."
"What is this place here?" asked Tom, putting his finger on one of the red spots.
"I don't know of any government building there," commented Billy.Frank took another look.
"Why, fellows," he said with quickening interest, "that's where the alley is that we were so nearly trapped in the other night. Don't you recognize it?"
"Sure enough," agreed Billy. "But what is there that they would want to blow up?"
"Maybe some of these red spots are meant to indicate meeting places of the conspirators," suggested Frank. "See, there's a little red cross added here that you don't find in connection with the army and government buildings. But it's queer that that alley should turn up again. I wish I knew what it meant."
"Well, we'll have to let the Secret Service ferret that out," said Billy. "They have fellows there to whom this will be as clear as crystal after they've studied it a little. In the meantime we've got a big enough job on our hands to take care of these prisoners. What are we going to do with them?"
"We've got time to think that over between now and daylight," answered Frank. "For the present we'll make them lie down flat and far enough apart so that they can't talk with each other. Then you and I will stand the first watch and Bart and Tom the next. As soon as daylight comes we must be on the move."
The plan was carried out, although Bart and Tom declared that they had lost all desire for sleep and would keep awake with the others. Frank, however, wanted to have them in good shape when morning came, and the plan was carried out. As a matter of fact, Bart and Tom were fast asleep in five minutes, and Frank and Billy yielded as readily when their turn came.
With the first streak of dawn, the boys were on their feet.
"Doped it out yet?" Bart asked of Frank.
"Pretty well," his chum answered. "I've figured out that we'd do better to try to find our detachment than to go back with these fellows to Coblenz. In the first place, it must be nearer, and then, too, we have the chance of meeting some of the detachment who have probably been sent out to look for us. The sun will give us the general direction and we'll probably hit the camp before long."
"Perhaps some of the prisoners could give us the direction," suggested Bart.
"I suppose most any of them could," answered Frank. "Some of them, no doubt, are natives of this section, though that big red beard comes from Berlin. But do you think I'd trust any of them? Not on your life! They'd only lead us into a trap."
"I guess you're right," agreed Bart.
"How about breakfast for these Huns?" asked Tom.
"We'll have to rustle some grub for them, of course," answeredFrank. "Haven't they got any food with them?"
"A few hunks of bread and cheese," answered Tom, "but not nearly enough to go around. We'll have to give them some of our rations, I suppose, though we made quite a hole in them last night and there isn't very much left."
"Well, we'll divide up with them as long as we have any," said Frank, "though I know mighty well they wouldn't do it with us if the case were reversed."
"You bet they wouldn't," answered Tom, "I've been a prisoner in their hands, and I know what I'm talking about."
They made coffee and distributed food, giving to their prisoners as much as they ate themselves. Then Frank lined up the prisoners and directed them to go ahead in the general direction he pointed out, warning them sternly that he would not hesitate to shoot at the least sign of resistance or any attempt to escape.
The storm had ceased, although a bitter wind was still blowing and heaping the snow in drifts. Still this had some advantages, for while it piled the snow deep in places it swept other spots almost clean and they made fairly rapid progress. The prisoners marched sulkily but steadily, with a wholesome respect for the rifles behind them and the men who held them.
They had been marching for perhaps an hour through the bleak forest, when Bart gave a sudden exclamation.
"See those black dots on the snow?" he said, pointing ahead and a little to the right. "They're moving and they're coming this way! I'll bet it's some of our fellows sent out to find us."
Frank looked hard and long, and as he looked his face grew grave.He did not seem to share his comrade's jubilation.
"Guess again, Bart," he said.
"Why?" asked Bart.
"Because," replied Frank, "those fellows are wearing German uniforms. They're probably a lot of disbanded soldiers on their way home. I rather think, boys, that we're in for a fight."
There was a stir among the Army Boys as they crowded around their leader.
"Are you sure, Frank?" asked Billy.
"Positive," answered Frank. "I can tell by their uniform and by their walk. I could even make out that some of them were wearing the uniform of the Jaeger regiments. They fought against us in the Argonne, and you'll remember that they're pretty tough birds. If it comes to a scrap we'll have our work cut out for us."
"But why should there be any scrap?" questioned Tom. "Germans are arrested every day in Coblenz and no one tries to rescue them."
"That's different," replied Frank. "The people know there that we've got powerful forces right at hand that could crush any attempt at rescue. But that doesn't count much out in the wilderness. If these fellows have an officer with them, he'll probably have sense enough to know that it doesn't pay to buck up against the United States army. But if they're just traveling along without organization, they feel so sore at us that they may be willing to take a chance and mix in."
"How many do you make them out to be?" asked Billy.
"About fifteen, I should judge," was the answer.
"What are you going to do?" asked Bart.
"Keep right ahead in the direction we are going. The boldest way is usually the best. If they saw us do any pussyfooting, they'd think we were scared, and they'd come after us anyway."
The two parties were not traveling in such a line that they would necessarily meet each other. Under ordinary conditions they would have passed at a distance of perhaps six hundred feet. But as the other party approached, Frank could see that one of their number was observing him and his comrades through a pair of field glasses. There was a hurried consultation, and then the newcomers swerved from their line of march and came directly toward the Army Boys.
"Just what I expected," muttered Frank, as his eyes darted from place to place over the snowy landscape to find a favorable position from a military point of view.
A hundred feet away was a slight rise of ground from which grew a clump of gigantic oak trees. They were so close together that their roots seemed to intermingle. On the near side of the little hill the vagaries of the wind had swept the snow into a sort of cave formation, leaving a space in the center hollowed out with great banks of snow on both sides.
Straight into this cave-like space Frank marched his group of prisoners who were walking with their hands upraised, but resting on their heads so as to ease their arms.
"You stand here, Billy, with your gun leveled, and if any one of these fellows makes a break drop him in his tracks," Frank directed, "You, Bart and Tom, come with me, and we'll go ahead and have a parley with this gang, and see what their intentions are."
The newcomers had now approached within a distance of a hundred yards. The boys looked in vain for any one wearing an officer's uniform, but there was no one who seemed to be in command. The crowd advanced in straggling formation, some of their faces exhibiting merely curiosity, while those of others were ugly and determined. There were perhaps half a dozen rifles among the lot, but the boys could see army revolvers at the belts of half a dozen more. A few had nothing but heavy sticks. The clothing of all was worn and travel stained, but all were of military cut and pattern, indicating that the wearers had belonged to the German army. The Army Boys went boldly toward them, and their confident bearing seemed to impress the Germans, who hesitated in their advance and crowded close together as though in consultation.
The boys kept going until they were within thirty feet, and then Frank handed his rifle to Billy and went forward with empty hands to show that his intentions were peaceable.
"We're American soldiers, as you can see by our uniforms," he said in a clear voice, in which there was no trace of wavering. "We are on our way to camp. We saw you turn from your line of march and come our way as though you wanted to speak to us. What do you want?"
Frank had spoken in German and they all understood him, but there was no answer ready, although the men's eyes glowered as they rested on his uniform and there were muttered exclamations.
"Is there any one of you that speaks English?" Frank asked, after waiting a moment.
Again a whispered consultation, and one of their number was pushed forward by the others.
"Do you speak English?" Frank asked.
"Yes," replied the man roughly. "I lived for five years in your accursed America."
The tone and words were offensively insolent, but Frank took no notice of them.
"Then perhaps you can tell me what you and your comrades want with us," he said.
"We want those prisoners you have with you," the man replied.
"What prisoners?" parried Frank.
"Don't try to fool us," the man answered angrily. "We saw those men walking with their hands on their heads, and we know they are Germans. We want them, and we're going to have them."
"How are you going to get them?" Frank asked quietly.
"How are we going to get them?" sneered the man. "Why, by taking them, if we have to. There are only four of you, as we saw through our glasses, and we're four to one. You wouldn't be fools enough to fight against such odds. If you give them up peaceably we won't hurt you. But if you don't, we'll wipe you out."
"Now listen," said Frank sternly. "We've arrested these men because they were plotting against the United States. We've set out to take them into camp, and we're going to do it. This district is under American rule and America has a long arm. You may wipe us out, but the American Government will reach out that arm and get you, no matter where you try to hide. I warn you to go on your way and let us pass."
"It's fight then, is it?" snarled the German.
He turned to his companions.
"Comrades!" he roared.
But he got no further.
Like lightning, Frank's left hand shot out and gripped the man by the collar. With his right, he yanked his automatic pistol from his belt and clapped it against the man's temple.
"One move and I'll blow your brains out," he snapped.
The man, after his first instinct of revolt, stood like a statue.That cold muzzle against his head was a compelling argument.
There was a wild commotion among the Germans, and rifles were raised, but as Frank had whirled his prisoner between him and them they did not dare to fire, but stood raging but irresolute.
Walking backward with his prisoner, the pistol still pressed to his head, Frank rejoined Bart and Tom, whose rifles were leveled at the crowd. Step by step the boys retreated, until they stood with Billy in the shelter of the oaks. Frank then delivered his prisoner to Billy, who made him lie down in the snow cave with the others.
"Good work, old man!" said Tom admiringly, as he clapped Frank on the shoulder.
"I'll tell the world so," agreed Bart enthusiastically.
"Gee, but my heart was in my mouth while I watched you," saidBilly.
"Have any trouble with the prisoners while I was gone?" askedFrank.
"Not much," grinned Billy. "Redbeard tried to get up, but I handed him a clip on the jaw and he sat down again."
"Drop!" shouted Bart suddenly. "Those fellows are getting ready to fire."
They threw themselves flat on the snow, and a moment later some bullets zipped over them.
"Looks as though they meant business," muttered Frank.
"Lucky that they haven't all got rifles," remarked Billy.
"Seems like the old Argonne days come again, only on a smaller scale," remarked Tom. "Shall we let them have a taste of lead, Frank? My finger's fairly itching to pull the trigger."
"Hold in a while, Tom," counseled Frank. "They have done that to vent their spite. We're safe enough behind these oaks, and we haven't any too much ammunition. If they show any signs of making a rush, we'll let them have a volley."
"That's just what they're going to do," remarked Bart. "They know they're four to one and they're going to take a chance."
"Five to one, really," answered Frank, "for Billy will have his hands full in guarding the prisoners."
Another volley came at that minute, and several bullets embedded themselves in the oaks. At the same moment, the Germans rushed forward a few yards, taking shelter behind what trees they could or throwing themselves behind hillocks of snow.
"They're in earnest," remarked Tom.
"All right," said Frank, and his fingers tightened on his rifle."Let them rush us. They'll get all that's coming to them."
"Those fellows are old campaigners," commented Bart. "You can tell that by the tactics they're using. It's the old system they tried at the Marne and in the Argonne, making a rush for a few yards, throwing themselves flat, and then repeating the process until they got near enough to rush us."
"A pretty good system, too," commented Tom, "but it didn't win then and it isn't going to win now. Just watch me wing one or two of these Huns and put a crimp into their tactics."
His chance came even while he was speaking, for one of the Germans thrust his rifle out from behind a tree and fired. At the same instant, Tom's rifle cracked, and the bullet ploughed its way through the man's right shoulder. He fell with a groan and rolled out from behind his shelter on to the snow. He was an easy mark as he lay there, but Tom refrained from firing again. The man was out of the fight and as good as dead as far as any further offensive was concerned. Besides, it was no part of the American idea of war to kill a wounded foe, although it was a matter of record that it had frequently been done by the Germans.
"Good shooting, old man," commented Frank. "You haven't got out of the way of potting them."
"One less to cause us trouble," remarked Billy. "Gee, if I didn't have these prisoners to watch! I'm getting cross-eyed, trying to keep one eye on them and the other on these fellows that are trying to rush us."
"Keep both eyes on the prisoners," directed Frank, "especially on that red-beard person. He's bad medicine. We'll handle these fellows. Ah, you will, will you?"
The last exclamation was prompted by one of the Germans who tried at that moment to glide from a small tree behind which he was sheltered to a larger one that seemed to promise better protection. He moved swiftly, but Frank's bullet was swifter, and the man went down with a bullet in his thigh.
"Talk about sniping," grinned Bart. "Those fellows will wake up after a while to the fact that they've tackled a hornet's nest. Even a thick German head can take in an idea sometimes."
"Especially if it's pushed in by a bullet," added Tom.
Just then a volley came from the besiegers, and a rain of bullets buried themselves in the trees behind which the boys were crouching.
Bart gave a sharp exclamation.
"Are you hurt, Bart?" asked Frank anxiously.
"Not much, I guess," replied Bart, putting his hand to his shoulder where the cloth had been torn away. "Just ridged the flesh. It doesn't amount to anything."
There was a little blood issuing from the shoulder, but Frank was relieved on examination to find that the bullet had just grazed the flesh, breaking the skin but doing no serious damage. He put a little ointment and lint on it and held the bandage firm with a bit of adhesive plaster, though Bart declared that it was not worth bothering about.
"Here they come!" cried Tom.
The besiegers had gathered themselves for a rush, and now they came in a body toward the trees, firing as they ran.
The rifles of the Army Boys spoke, and two of their assailants went down. The rest faltered for a moment, and in that moment another of their number fell.
This seemed to dash the spirit of the attackers. They had evidently counted upon the retreat of the defenders when they saw three times their number bearing down upon them. They faltered, then broke and ran, not this time to the nearest shelters, but straight back to the place from which they had first started. The accurate shooting had given them a wholesome respect for their opponents, and their only thought was to get out of the range of those deadly rifles.
The boys might have shot more of them as they ran, but that was not in Frank's plan. All he wanted was to get them out of his path so that he could get his prisoners to camp, and he wanted to do it with as little bloodshed as possible.
"Guess they've got enough of our game," remarked Tom, as he reloaded his rifle.
"Shouldn't wonder," replied Bart. "We called their bluff. They thought we'd have a case of nerves when we saw them come rushing towards us. But we've seen those fellows' backs too often to be afraid of their faces."
The Germans continued their retreat until they had gotten to a reasonably safe distance, and then they gathered together and seemed to be consulting as to their next move.
Frank watched them keenly. Suddenly he saw a commotion in their ranks, and looking in the direction to which their faces had turned, he saw a body of men larger than the first coming over the snow.
"Another bunch of disbanded soldiers," he muttered anxiously, as he saw that the newcomers were Germans and had now quickened their steps in answer to the shouts and gestures of their first assailants. "Now we're up against it for fair."
"We didn't figure on tackling the whole German army," growled Tom.
"Our ammunition is getting low, too," remarked Bart, ruefully, as he looked at his cartridge belt. "We'll have to make every shot tell from now on."
"If the bullets give out, we'll light into them with our bayonets and gun butts," gritted Frank between his teeth. "We've started to get these prisoners to camp, and we'll get them there or die trying."
"I know what the Germans would do if they were in our place," remarked Tom. "They'd stand the prisoners in front of them, so that the other fellows would have to kill their own comrades before they could get at them."
"I know they would," agreed Frank. "They did that in Belgium even with women and little children. But we're human beings, and we don't do that sort of thing."
By this time the two bodies of men had joined, and Frank estimated that altogether they numbered more than forty.
"Ten to one," he remarked when he had finished counting, "and most of those new arrivals have guns."
"We're in for another rush," said Bart, "and this time they won't cave in as easily as they did before. The Germans are plucky enough when they fight in numbers."
The Army Boys looked carefully to their rifles and loosened their knives in their sheaths. Then by a common impulse they shook hands all around. Nothing was said, but each knew what was in the hearts of the others. They felt that they were in for a fight to the death, and with the heavy odds against them it looked as though none of them would come out alive.
But the expected rush did not come.
"Can't be that they've given it up, do you think?" asked Tom, after five minutes had passed.
"Nothing like that," replied Frank. "They're holding a big pow-wow about something."
As he spoke, a figure detached itself from the crowd and came towards them, waving a white handkerchief attached to a stick.
"The white flag!" exclaimed Frank. "They're going to invite us to surrender."
"You know what Whittlesey told them in the Argonne when they tried the same thing on the lost battalion," remarked Bart.
"We'll tell them the same thing, only a little more politely,"Frank assured him with a grin.
The man approached until he was about fifty feet distant, and then stood there, waving the flag and by gestures inviting the defenders to come out and meet him.
"You're elected, Frank," laughed Billy. "Go out and let Heinie spiel his little spiel."
Frank laid aside his rifle and stepped from behind his tree. He walked directly toward the messenger, who lowered the makeshift flag and stood waiting.
"What is it that you want?" Frank asked in German, when he had come within speaking distance.
"We want you to surrender," replied the man in excellent English.
"And if we don't?" continued Frank, in his native tongue.
"Then you'll be committing suicide," answered the other promptly.
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Frank. "I suppose you'd have said that before you made your last rush. But as you see, we're not dead yet."
"That was different," replied the messenger. "You can see now that we have double the number we had before and more than double the guns. You can't possibly hold out against us."
"Maybe not," replied Frank, "but at any rate we're going to try. If you want us, you'll have to come and take us, and even then you'll only get our dead bodies, for we won't be taken alive."
He spoke with a decision that seemed to disconcert the man who stood for a moment irresolute.
"Is that your last word?" he asked.
"I have only one word," replied Frank. "You heard me. Go back and tell your comrades to come on as soon as they like. They'll find us ready for them. But I warn you now as I warned you before that our Government will get you—every last one of you. You may kill us, but you'll swing for it."
He turned to go back to his friends, but the messenger still stood there.
"Well," said Frank, turning around, "why don't you go? Got anything more to say?"
"Only this," returned the messenger. "My comrades will not insist on your surrender. But we must have the prisoners. If you give them up, you may go where you will."
"So you had that little joker in reserve, did you?" asked Frank grimly. "Well, my answer is just the same. We've got those prisoners, and we're going to keep them. We started to take them into camp, and we're going to take them there. If you get them at all, you'll get them after we're dead."
There was no mistaking the determination in his tones, and there was a look of unwilling admiration in the eyes of the messenger as he turned to depart.
"You are foolish," he said, "but you have had your chance. You and your companions are doomed."
"That may be," replied Frank, "but if we are, we'll take a lot of you along with us."
They separated and returned to their respective camps.
"Get ready now, boys, for the fight of your lives," Frank admonished his comrades, after he had told them of what had passed between him and the flag bearer.
"Let them come," said Bart. "We're good for a lot of them if our bullets hold out."
"And when they're gone, we've got our bayonets," put in Tom.
"And our knives may do some damage," added Billy, as his hand rested on the haft of his.
With every faculty alert and their eyes fixed upon their enemies, the Army Boys waited for the expected rush.
"What are they waiting for?" muttered Tom peevishly. "Are they getting cold feet? Or are they waiting for another gang of hoboes to join them before they care to tackle us?"
"It isn't that," Frank answered. "They may be planning new tactics. Their others didn't work very well."
"I believe they're going away," cried Billy, as he saw the crowd dispersing.
"Guess again," returned Frank. "They're doing what I've been afraid all along they'd try to do. They're spreading out so as to surround us on all sides. They didn't have men enough to do that at first, but they've got them now."
A few minutes more and they saw that Frank was right. The men were describing a wide circle, with the evident intention of attacking the Army Boys from all sides at once.
"That means that they'll drive us out into the open," said Frank. "We can't be on both sides of a tree at once. Half of them at least can take pot shots at us without our having any shelter."
"It's good dope from their point of view," remarked Tom. "We'd better start in to discourage it right away. They think they're out of range, but I'm going to try to prove to them that they're mistaken."
His eye ran along his rifle barrel, and after taking unusually careful aim he fired. One of the Germans threw up his hands and fell.
"A long shot, but I got him," remarked Tom with satisfaction.
"Some shot," said Bart approvingly.
The immediate result was a widening of the circle as the others tried to get back further out of range. But the circle kept forming just the same, and in a quarter of an hour it was completed.
Then it began contracting, the foe taking advantage of every hill and every tree to get nearer. Occasionally they would send over some scattering shots, but in the main they held their fire until they should get into closer quarters.
The Army Boys in the meantime had been working feverishly. The trees were no longer to be relied on, with enemies at the back as well as at the front. So they dug furiously into the snow, until they had heaped it high enough all around them to form a circular trench.
When they had finished, the top of the trench was on a level with their eyes, so that their bodies were sheltered. But they had to lift their heads above it as often as they sighted and fired their rifles, and they risked getting a bullet every time they did it.
By now the enemy was creeping closer, and there was a constant zipping of bullets around and over their heads. The boys themselves were forced to husband their fire, because of their scarcity of ammunition, and they wasted no bullets in merely returning the enemy's fire. They watched their opportunities, and wherever an arm or a head showed itself, it became a target for their rifles. Sometimes they missed, but oftener they found their mark, and they knew that they had put at least five of their enemies out of the fighting. But the odds were still enormous, and with every moment the Germans were drawing closer. Soon they would be near enough for a concerted rush from all sides at once.
"It's coming soon now, fellows," Frank warned his comrades, "and when it comes we want to jump out to meet it. We don't want to be caught in this trench like rats in a trap. When I give the word, let them have all you've got in your guns, and then we'll lay into them with our knives and bayonets."
Several minutes passed and the enemy's fire died down. Soon it ceased entirely and an ominous silence replaced the singing of the bullets.
"Have they run out of ammunition, do you think?" Bart asked ofFrank.
"No such luck," was the answer. "They're getting ready for a rush.On your toes now, and listen for the word."
One, two, three minutes passed. And then came the rush.
But it was not the rush that the boys had looked for!
Out from the trees with a wild cheer came tearing a squad of the old Thirty-seventh, with Wilson at their head, and fell like an avalanche on the foe!
The Germans were taken completely by surprise. In their concentration on their expected prey they had failed to note the foe approaching from the rear. There were a few scattered shots, and then the Germans scattered and ran like so many hares in all directions.
The Army Boys for the first instant were almost paralyzed with surprise. In their hearts they had bidden good-bye to the world, for they knew how slight their chances were against the odds that menaced them.
Frank was the first to grasp the situation, and he jumped from the trench with a wild hurrah.
"It's the old Thirty-seventh!" he yelled. "Our own boys! Come along, fellows!"
With a whoop Bart and Tom joined him, Billy remaining to guard his prisoners, and they plunged at once into the task of hunting down the fugitives. A few escaped through the wood, but the great majority of them were rounded up and placed in charge of Billy and several aids. Aid was given to the wounded, and litters were made for them which the prisoners were compelled to carry. There were two killed, and these were buried where they lay.
It was only after these necessary things had been attended to that the boys were able to get their breath and find time for explanations with Wilson, who was delighted beyond measure to find that apart from the trifling ridge in Bart's shoulder they were all safe and sound.
He listened with the utmost interest and attention while they unfolded the story of their adventures.
"It is a mighty fine piece of work you boys have done," he remarked, after he had fully grasped the situation, "They'll be glad at headquarters to have these conspirators under their thumb, for they've been hearing all sorts of queer things about ructions that are being planned in the occupied zone. So Raymond's stumble may prove to have been a good thing after all."
"Perhaps it was," admitted Bart with a grin, "though I've been calling myself all sorts of a boob ever since the thing happened."
"It sure has kept things from being monotonous," chuckled Billy. "I've had a lot of things happen to me in my young life, but I can't just now recall anything much more exciting than has taken place since we lost you last night in the snow."
"The lieutenant was all wrought up about it," said the corporal. "He had searching parties out for you all last night. Right after breakfast this morning he routed us out again and told us we'd hear from him if we came back without you."
"Well, you've got us, all right, and a nice little bunch of prisoners in addition to prove that we haven't been loafing on the job," laughed Frank. "But how did you come to find us?"
"It was the sound of shooting that brought us here on the double quick," replied Wilson. "We took just one look at that circle creeping up on you and we tumbled to the situation at once."
"You came just in the nick of time," said Bart soberly. "If you'd been five minutes later you wouldn't have found much except our dead bodies."
"And the old Thirty-seventh would have lost four of its best men," replied the corporal warmly. "But we'd better get a move on now and hustle back to camp."
He lined up his men, and after appointing guards for the disarmed and sullen prisoners, took up the march.
A little over an hour later the band trooped into the village where Lieutenant Winter's detachment was stationed. News of their coming had been carried on ahead, and they received a royal welcome from the men, who crowded about them and grasped their hands and pounded their backs as they made their way to headquarters.
There the reception was more than cordial, and there was heartfelt relief in the clean cut face of the lieutenant as he had the Army Boys tell their story.
"Fine work," he commented, when they had finished. "You men are a credit to the regiment and the army. I'll see that this is brought to the notice of the general in command. You can go now, that is, all but Sheldon. I'll need one of you here to check up on the stories of the prisoners."
The others saluted and retired, and while the prisoners were sent for the lieutenant looked over the map with great interest, asking Frank many questions about the speech he had heard in connection with it.
The man with the red beard simply admitted that his name was Spatler, and then shut up like an oyster. No persuasion or threats could bring anything out of him, and he was finally sent back to the guardhouse to be eventually dealt with by the authorities at Coblenz. The mark of Billy's punch was still evident in his swollen jaw, and he shot a baleful glance at Frank as he passed by him on the way out.
Other prisoners were questioned without result, until the German was reached whom Frank had arrested at the point of his pistol. All his insolence and braggadocio had vanished. He was evidently a poltroon at heart, for he showed every evidence of being willing to betray his comrades and tell all that he knew on condition that his own lot would be made easier.
"This is getting interesting," smiled the lieutenant as he saw that the man was beginning to weaken. "I guess I'll excuse you now, Sheldon, for he'll probably talk more freely with me alone. And as he talks English I shan't need an interpreter."
Frank saluted and went out, glad to rejoin his comrades, whom he found regaling themselves with hot coffee and steaming "chow" which the company cook had put before them, a pleasure in which Frank himself promptly took part, while their comrades crowded around them eager to hear every detail of their experiences of the night before.
They had scarcely finished before Frank was summoned to headquarters by a messenger. He went, expecting that something had come up in connection with the prisoners, but was agreeably surprised to find his old friend, Colonel Pavet, waiting for him.
The meeting was especially cordial on both sides. Colonel Pavet had not forgotten how Frank had brought him in wounded from the battlefield under a hail of enemy fire, and Frank on his part had a profound gratitude to the colonel for his efforts to secure for Mrs. Sheldon her rights in her father's property.
"So you are still at it," smiled the colonel, after greetings had been exchanged.
"What do you mean?" asked Frank.
"Modest as usual," said the colonel. "I've been hearing all about the little war you've been carrying on on your own account. It was a gallant piece of work, and I congratulate you."
"Oh, that was nothing," replied Frank. "It was a job that came our way and we had to do it. But how comes it that I see you in this out of the way place?" he continued, in order to change the conversation.
"I have been to Berlin on a military commission for the Allies," replied the colonel, "and I am now on my way to Coblenz, from which city I will go to our own bridgehead at Mayence."
"So you got to Berlin, did you?" asked Frank with interest. "It's the place I've been wanting to get to ever since I've been in the war. But I wanted to go in with a conquering army with bugles blowing and drums beating and flags flying and plant the flags of the Allies on the Kaiser's palace."
"I have shared that ambition," replied the colonel, "and there's nothing in the world that could have kept us from doing it, if the Germans hadn't signed the armistice just when they did. But, for that matter, we may have to do it yet."
"Do you think so?" asked Frank with quickened interest.
"I shouldn't be surprised," was the reply. "Things are in a terrible condition there. The Soldiers' and Workmen's Councils are trying to take possession of the Government. There were street riots every day that I was there. The police station was captured by the rioters and scores of detectives and policemen were murdered by the mob. The buildings are riddled with bullets and cannon balls. Berlin is getting some of the punishment that is due for her guilt in starting the war."
"I suppose that fellow Liebknecht is at the head of all this," remarked Frank.
"He was, but he isn't any longer," replied Colonel Pavet.
"What do you mean?" asked Frank. "Has he been arrested?"
"He's been killed," was the answer.
"How did that happen?"
"He was shot while attempting to escape from the officers who were taking him to prison," said the colonel. "At least, that was the explanation given. More than likely that was only a pretext. But he is dead anyway, and so is that she-tigress, Rosa Luxemburg, who was his partner in stirring up the mobs. They sowed the wind of riot and massacre and now they have reaped the whirlwind."
"Well, now that they are killed I suppose things will quiet down somewhat," remarked Frank.
The colonel shook his head.
"I don't know," he said dubiously. "The mobs will probably try to obtain revenge for the killing of their leaders. Things look very black, not only in Berlin but in every part of the country. Business is paralyzed, millions are on strike, the food situation is bad, and the whole nation is mad with the bitterness of defeat."
"How about their signing the treaty?" asked Frank. "Do you think they will do it?"
"They say they won't," replied the colonel. "They are calling it all kinds of names, 'the graveside of right', 'the Peace of violence', 'the shackles of slaves' and all that kind of rot. They swear they will never sign it. But then you have to take that talk for what it is worth. The Germans are the greatest bluffers and the quickest quitters in the world. There is what you Americans call the 'yellow streak' all through the nation. They said they wouldn't sign the armistice, but they signed it. They said they'd never let us enter their territory, but we're here. Now they're saying they'll never sign the Peace Treaty, but they'll probably do it when it comes to the pinch. Outside they're tigers, but inside they're sheep."
"Well," said Frank, "I almost wish they wouldn't. I'd rather have the treaty signed at Berlin than at Versailles."
"Eager for more fighting with the Huns?" asked the colonel, with an amused smile.
"Not that exactly," returned Frank. "But when I start a job I like to finish it and finish it right."
"Well," said the colonel, "you may have all the fighting you want right here in the Coblenz bridgehead. I heard rumors when I was in Berlin that a movement was on foot to stir up trouble in the zone of American occupation. Agitators were to be sent there by the Spartacans to try to overthrow the local government and take the reins of power. I heard that proposed myself at a street meeting of rioters that I witnessed from the windows of my hotel. A man with a red beard was declaiming at the top of his lungs and predicting that if the people of Coblenz would rise under the red flag they could sweep the hated Americans back from the Rhine."
"A man with a red beard, did you say?" asked Frank.
"Why, yes," answered the colonel, a little amused by his earnestness. "Not that there's anything extraordinary about that, I should suppose. There are probably thousands of men with red beards in Berlin. Why do you ask?"
"Because," said Frank, "the man whom we captured in the ruined castle last night and whom the lieutenant has been examining also has a red beard. He is an agitator of the worst type, and I know from what he said in his speech that he comes from Berlin. It may be only a coincidence, but if so it's a singular one."
"I shouldn't wonder if you were right," said the colonel. "What is the man's name?"
"Spatler, I think," replied Frank. "Heinrich Spatler. At any rate that's the name he gave to the lieutenant."
"Spatler," repeated the colonel, wrinkling his brows. "It seems to me that I saw that name on one of the banners carried by the rioters at the meeting. It may be that you are right. If he's the same man, he's a fanatic of the most dangerous kind and will stop at nothing. I hope that now your people have him under lock and key you'll keep him there. But I must go now, as I want to reach Mayence to-night if possible. I'm very glad to have had this few minutes' chat with you. By the way, when have you heard from Madame Sheldon? I hope that she is well."
"I had a letter from her a week ago," replied Frank. "She is in excellent health and full of gratitude to you for your efforts in recovering her property. As soon as I am released from the Army of Occupation she plans to meet me in Paris and go with me to Auvergne. There she will have a chance to meet you and express her thanks in person."
"I shall be charmed," replied the colonel. "I should like nothing better than to have her settle in France permanently as a resident of our beautiful Auvergne, but I suppose that is too much to hope for. You have America in your blood."
"Yes," laughed Frank. "France is beautiful and great, but America is to me above all."
"I should think less of you if it were not so," answered Colonel Pavet. "Au revoir,then. Remember me to Madame Sheldon when you write."
With a cordial handshake they parted. The colonel vaulted into the saddle of his horse which an orderly was holding at the door, and Frank returned to his comrades, who he found busily preparing to return to Coblenz, in accordance with an order that had just come from the lieutenant.
"Why we've just got here!" objected Frank, when he heard the news."And now we're going back!"
"It's this way," explained Tom. "The lieutenant is anxious to get those prisoners off his hands and safe in jail at Coblenz. It seems that he pumped a lot of information out of one of the fellows who gave away his comrades, and he wants headquarters to go into the matter at once. We've been chosen among others to guard the prisoners because we took them and we may be wanted as witnesses. So back we go, and I'm glad of it."
"Same here," echoed Billy.
Bart and Frank looked at each other and laughed.
"'Alice, where art thou?'" quoted Bart.
"We know why you fellows want to get back to Coblenz in such a hurry," joked Frank. "Gee, it must be awful to have such a hankering. I will admit, however, that Alice and Helen are pretty girls. Bless you, my children, bless you."
"Quit your kidding and get busy," admonished Billy. "We start in half an hour."
"We'll be ready," replied Frank. "Watch our smoke."
At the appointed hour all was ready and the company set off with their prisoners under guard. There was a strong detachment as escort, and in addition to the men's rifles, a couple of machine guns were taken along, as the lieutenant was taking no chances. He had learned enough from the perusal of the papers and the testimony of the informer to believe that serious trouble was brewing, and he was anxious above all that the prisoners should be safely delivered at Coblenz.
It was a beautiful winter day. The air, though cold, was still, and the sun was shining brightly. The boys were in high spirits and joked and laughed as they trudged along. The prisoners alone were sullen and depressed. The man with the red beard was the only one that maintained an air of defiant.
Suddenly, the roar of an aeroplane made itself heard, and, looking up, the boys descried it sailing above them like a gigantic bird and moving in the same direction in which they were traveling. They saw at a glance that it was an American plane.
"No more need to duck for shelter when we see those things," laughed Billy.
"No bombs coming down to smash us into bits," exulted Bart.
"No," said Frank, "all German planes are on the ground. They can't look for Red Cross signs and hospitals any more."
"This fellow's swooping down!" exclaimed Tom, with heightened interest. "Maybe he's caught sight of us fellows and wants to get a closer look."
"More likely it's engine trouble of some kind," suggested Frank, gazing at the swooping airplane. "My, but he's a nifty driver! See how he handles that machine!"
"Dick Lever himself couldn't do better," remarked Bart, as he watched the graceful curves described by the aviator in his descent.
"Good old Dick!" observed Billy. "I wonder where he is now."
The aviator was evidently aiming for a large open space a little to the right and in advance of the moving column. Soon he had reached it and landed as lightly as a feather.
"Wouldn't have broken a pane of glass if it had come down on it," observed Tom admiringly. "That fellow knows his business."
The aviator climbed out of his machine and came over toward the column, which had just received the order for the ten minutes rest, which, according to regulations, came at the end of every hour of marching.
He was encased in heavy clothing and his face was almost concealed by the fur-rimmed visor that he wore.
"Something about that fellow that looks familiar," remarked Billy.
"By the great horn spoon!" ejaculated Frank, "it's Dick Lever himself."
"That's what," smiled the newcomer, as the boys surrounded him and, with a yell, fell upon him.
There was no mistaking the warmth of the greeting, and Dick smiled with gratification as he extricated himself from their grasp and tried to shake hands with them all at once.
"What good wind blew you this way?" queried Frank.
"A mighty cold wind, as you fellows would admit if you were up there," laughed Dick.
"You look pretty well fixed for it," commented Billy, as he took in Dick's voluminous trappings. "A polar bear has nothing on you."
"I need every bit of it," answered Dick. "But where are you fellows bound for, and what are you doing with these birds?" he continued, glancing at the motley group of prisoners.
"We're taking them into Coblenz to let our people give them the once over and the third degree," explained Frank. "They've been trying to stir up trouble in the American zone. Cunning little bunch, isn't it?"
"I'm glad you've got your claws on them," Dick remarked, looking at the group with cold disfavor. "There's a whole lot more like them that ought to be rounded up. I tell you our people have been too easy with this breed of cattle and they're going to be sorry for it. We're so afraid of being harsh that we go to the other extreme. We stand up so straight that we fall over backward. The Germans don't understand anything but force, and unless we exert it they think we're afraid to."
"Think we're too easy?" asked Bart. "You bet we are!" replied Dick. "We ought to treat them as the French do at Mayence and the British at Cologne. They know the people they're dealing with, and while they're just, they're stern. Anyone who tries to put anything over on them finds that he's monkeying with a buzz saw. Unless we wake up from our easy good-nature, we'll find ourselves with a lot of trouble on our hands."
"You seem to be rather worked up about it," remarked Billy.
"Not a bit more than I ought to be," returned Dick earnestly. "I have chances of seeing things that you fellows don't. I'm flying all over the occupied zone, and I tell you that the Spartacides are trying to stir up trouble everywhere. In almost every other town you can see the red flag flying. There's stormy weather coming, and we've got to be prepared for gales."
"That just fits in with what Colonel Pavet of the French Army was telling me to-day," said Frank. "He's just back from Berlin, and he's sure there's trouble afoot."
"Well," said Dick, "I hope that we're both false prophets, but I'm afraid we're not. I'll have to get on now, fellows."
"What did you come down for?" asked Tom. "Engine trouble?"
"No, it wasn't that," replied Dick. "The old girl is working fine. I just saw an American bunch marching along here and dropped down to say 'howdy.' I'm off now. See you soon in Coblenz."
With a wave of his hand, he walked over, climbed into his machine, and started skyward.
The boys watched him soaring until his machine was only a dot in the steel blue of the winter sky, and then, as their brief rest period had ended, started on the march to Coblenz.
"One great boy, that Dick," remarked Frank, when the aviator was finally lost to sight.
"You bet he is," agreed Billy emphatically. "He's one of the greatest aces that ever climbed into a plane."
"I suppose he must be feeling rather lonely now that he isn't bringing down his daily Hun," suggested Tom.
"He's all wool and a yard wide," affirmed Bart. "I'll never forget that if it hadn't been for him I might never have got back to you fellows."
"Do you remember the time he swooped down with his machine guns popping and carried us off when we were being taken to a German prison camp?" asked Frank. "I tell you it took nerve for a fellow to charge a whole detachment."
"Oh, he's got nerve enough for a whole regiment," declared Billy. "He'd be a mighty handy fellow to have at your back in any kind of scrap, and don't you forget it."
In a short time they reached the town without further adventure and delivered their prisoners into the hands of the authorities. They were off duty then and had no further assignment for the rest of the afternoon and evening. The early winter dusk was settling down, but it was yet a full hour before it would be entirely dark.
"What are you going to do with yourself, Bart?" asked Frank. "I know of course what Tom and Billy are going to do. They're going to make tracks for the house where their deities reside."
"Good guess," admitted Billy. "You bet we are."
"I haven't anything special on hand," replied Bart in answer toFrank's question.
"Come along with me then," said his chum.
"Anywhere you say, what's the game?"
"I'm going straight for the alley where they nearly got our number the other night. That thing's on my mind all the time. It haunts me even in my sleep. I'm going to get to the bottom of that mystery or know the reason why."
"All right. I'm with you."
By the time they had reached the alley it was almost entirely dark. Choosing a moment when the street was empty, they slipped into the alley and made their way toward the further end.
They felt the walls on either side as they went along for indications of a door or opening of any kind. They did the same with the blank wall that closed the alley at the other end. Nothing rewarded their search. The wall at the farther end was far too high to scale. It seemed impossible for anything except with wings to vanish from the alley as completely as had their assailants on that memorable night when they had so nearly lost their lives.
"It beats me," said Bart at length. "We saw them go in and we followed them up and they weren't there. Sounds like black magic, doesn't it?"
"It surely does," agreed Frank, in great perplexity. "They didn't go through the back, they couldn't go through the sides, they couldn't go into the air, but they did go somewhere."
"Down into the ground," suggested Bart jokingly. "That seems the only place left."
Frank started.
"There's many a true word spoken in jest," he said. "Perhaps you've hit it, Bart. That's one place we haven't examined."
"Small chance to examine that just now," said Bart. "You can see it's all covered with a glare of ice. There isn't a bit of ground showing."
They walked over the ice-covered surface with scarcely a hope under present conditions of making any discoveries, even if there were any to make. They had to depend entirely upon the sense of touch, for it was by this time pitch dark and Frank did not care to flash his light for fear they might be observed by passers-by.
They had come perhaps to within twenty feet of the rear wall, whenFrank gave a sudden exclamation.