It was two days later. The battle was raging fiercely. On all sides men were dropping singly, in pairs, in tens and in hundreds. Since early morning, when an advance guard of Germans had approached the British line, the struggle had continued without a minute’s breathing space.
Gradually giving way before the English attacks, the German troops fell back mile after mile, the English, in the section of the field where the fighting had been going on, pursuing them closely. Unmindful of their support on either side, the British still pressed forward, until now they were far beyond either flank.
Suddenly from either side of the English troops came a thundering volley. Taken by surprise, the British halted suddenly, while men tumbled to the earth on every hand.
Before the officer in command could give the order to fall back, a force of Germans was hurled into their rear, completely cutting them off from any possible hope of aid from that direction. A thousandmen were in this little force now completely surrounded.
But the officer in command of the British was not of the caliber to surrender. He was a typical son of Albion, a fighting man, none other than Captain Harry Anderson, whose part in the expedition across the Marne had raised him to that rank.
Advancing with his command, he soon found himself the ranking officer still on his feet. Hal and Chester, who the night before had shared his quarters, at the call to arms had plunged into the thick of the conflict alongside the gallant captain. In spite of the terrific carnage, in spite of the shot and shell that fell about them, they had so far escaped injury.
Perceiving that retreat was cut off, Captain Anderson conceived a possible escape. With a loud cry of “Forward!” to his men, he dashed right into the face of a terrible rifle and artillery fire.
Men dropped as though mowed down by the wind, but the little column halted not. They had spread out, fan-wise, at the command of Captain Anderson, to avoid as much as possible the sweeping fire of the Germans, and they now pressed forward at a run.
Completely surprised at this sudden charge by the little body of men, that the German officers evidently believed entirely in their power, and still more surprised by their desperate offense in the face of overwhelmingodds, the Germans, for a moment, gave way.
That moment was enough for the success of Captain Anderson’s strategy. At the point of the bayonet the British burst through the German line, dealing out death on every hand as they did so. A moment and the Germans rallied, but it was too late.
The British were now through the barrier of steel, and had taken refuge behind a little ridge. And now the reason for the captain’s sudden charge became apparent.
Directly ahead was a large house, and for this refuge the British dashed madly. The first man to reach the door tried the knob. The door was locked. From behind came the plod of the heavy German feet and the sharp crack of rifles.
There was not a moment to lose. With a swift blow of his rifle butt, the British soldier smashed in the door, and into this opening the troops poured. A second squad had dashed around to the rear of the house and performed a similar operation. In less time than it takes to tell it injured and uninjured alike were in the house. The ground outside, however, was strewn with their companions.
Quickly every window in the house was manned, the doors barred. And the British stood silently awaiting the approach of the enemy, which they knew would come in a very few minutes.
“If it were not for the artillery we could hold this place indefinitely,” said Captain Anderson.
“Yes,” agreed Chester; “or, if we can manage to hold out till night, we may be able to get away.”
“It is possible, too,” said Hal, “that our absence will be noticed and aid sent to us.”
“I’m not banking much on that,” replied Captain Anderson, “for, if we are missed, our loss probably will be put down to the fortunes of war. It is hardly possible General French would know we are cooped up in this house.”
“That’s so,” said Chester. “Well, we will have to hold on as long as we can. That’s the best we can do.”
“Exactly,” agreed Hal quietly.
The three approached the window in front of the house on the second floor. But, even as they neared it, the rifle of the soldier guarding it spoke.
“Evidently the siege has begun,” said Hal grimly. “Poor fellow!” he added, as one of the men at the window toppled to the floor, a bullet in his head.
His place was quickly taken by another, and the battle went on. The firing became fiercer with each passing moment. The British barred the windows with chairs, tables, and whatever other articles of furniture they could find, leaving an opening just large enough to poke their rifles through.
But even this was not enough to keep out all the German bullets. Still men fell, though not as fastas before. Captain Anderson assigned Hal to direct the fire of the British in the front of the first floor and Chester in the rear. The captain took command of the second floor himself.
The three were everywhere encouraging the men, seemingly being all over their respective stations at once. Occasionally, as a man fell, Hal or Chester would step into the breach and hold the place until relieved by another soldier.
Noon came and went, and still the fighting continued. Apparently, thus far, the Germans had not conceived the idea of battering the house to pieces with their big field guns. Evidently they thought they could take it without this trouble.
And now darkness drew on. The German fire had played havoc with the defenders, but, if they had suffered severely, the enemy’s loss, exposed as they were to the grilling fire from the house, had been enormous.
Night fell, and with it came a lull in the firing. Hal took advantage of this respite to hurry upstairs for a word with Captain Anderson. As they conversed in low tones, they were startled by an outcry from the floor below.
Hurriedly descending the stairs, they beheld the cause of the commotion. Struggling in Chester’s arms was a man in civilian garb.
“I caught him just as he was about to open the front door,” Chester explained.
The man’s struggles were soon quieted, and he stood before Captain Anderson, pale and trembling.
“What are you doing here?” demanded the latter.
“I was hiding in the cellar,” said the man in a shaking voice. “When you English burst in I didn’t know what to do. I remained in my hiding-place until there was a lull in the fighting. I was afraid I would be killed if I was found, so I tried to get out the first time I thought I had a chance.”
Captain Anderson looked at him queerly.
“Surely you are not a German?” he asked.
“No, sir,” was the reply, “I am French.”
“Then what need had you to be afraid of us?”
“Well, you see, sir,” was the nervous reply, “I am a peace-loving man. I don’t want to fight, and I won’t fight if I can help it.”
“A nice specimen of a Frenchman, to be sure,” said the captain, with a sneer. “If you are such a peace-loving man, how does it happen we find you here? Why haven’t you fled with the rest of the old women and children?”
“Well, you see, sir,” quavered the man, “I have been hiding here. I was afraid that if I went to Paris I would be forced to fight.”
“And you have been hiding here ever since war broke out?”
“Yes, sir. I have a nice hiding-place downstairs,” and he rubbed his hands in satisfaction.
“And you were not discovered by the Germans?”
“No, sir; and a party of officers were here only yesterday.”
“Then, no doubt, you heard their plans. Perhaps you can give us important information?”
“I could, yes, sir,” was the reply. “But, if I do, will there be any pay for me?”
The captain was taken by surprise.
“And you call yourself a Frenchman,” he said in contempt. He took a threatening step forward. “No,” he said angrily, “there will be no pay, but I can promise you that if you don’t tell what you know you will be shot right here and now.”
“Oh, sir, you wouldn’t do that,” said the man in a wheedling voice.
“Wouldn’t I?” exclaimed the captain. “You shall see.”
He turned to his men, and, in response to a signal, two of them approached the Frenchman. But the stern tone had convinced the man that the officer meant what he said.
“I’ll tell, sir,” he cried, falling on his knees.
Captain Anderson waved his men away.
“Very well,” he said coldly, “and see that you make no mistake. If your information is of no value you shall be shot anyhow.”
“But it is, sir,” protested the Frenchman.
“All right. Then let’s have it.”
“The Germans are planning an aëroplane raidon the English,” said the man, in a low voice. “There is a park of aëroplanes hardly two miles from here, on the road leading to Viviers. They are ready for instant flight.”
“What!” exclaimed Captain Anderson. “Are you sure?”
“Perfectly,” was the reply. “I heard the German officers talking of it only yesterday. They said it would deal a death-blow to the English.”
“And so it would,” said the captain, “unless it can be stopped.”
Hal broke suddenly into the conversation.
“Can you point the approximate whereabouts of this park of machines out to us?” he asked.
“Easily, sir.”
“What’s your idea?” asked Captain Anderson.
“Simply this,” said Hal. “I believe that by a dash we can get through the Germans. They will not expect it, and, if they did, would not expect us to go forward. Consequently, the guard in front is not likely to be vigilant. We have enough men here to make a successful raid on these machines and destroy them.”
“A first-class idea,” said the captain. “We’ll do it.”
Quickly the captain formed and outlined a plan. Then, gathering his men behind him at the door, he prepared for a sortie. Among the troops were a few engineers, the captain ascertained upon inquiry, and these he placed at the extreme rear of the little body.
When all was ready, the captain opened the doors and stepped out. Hal and Chester were right behind him. It was very dark, and, as there was no light in the house, Germans who were on guard, being a considerable distance back to avoid the fire of the British defenders, did not at first make out the forms flitting silently from the house.
Half the little troop had emerged before a single rifle shot, followed by a volley, gave notice that they had been discovered. Then, at a word from Captain Anderson, the British charged right at their enemy.
Not a shot was fired until they were at close quarters, in spite of the fact that the German fire was not ineffective. Then, as the men spreadout in a long line, they blazed forth their answer, and, hard upon this, charged with the bayonet.
Apparently the Germans had not prepared for such a move on the part of the enemy, for they gave ground rapidly. The skirmish was brief, with success to the British.
The Germans in flight, Captain Anderson, Hal and Chester soon found the Viviers road, and led their men along at double time. The two miles were covered quickly, and finally the three could make out in the darkness what appeared to be a factory. Closer approach showed that this what it was.
“Must be a temporary affair,” said Captain Anderson, in a low voice. “And what are those objects nearby?”
Hal peered through the darkness.
“Look like armored automobiles to me,” he said.
“And so they are,” declared Chester. “And there must be twenty of them. Seems to me an act of providence must have put them there. We couldn’t want anything better to escape in.”
“You are right,” declared the captain.
The captain now divided his men into three forces, one of which he commanded, the other two being led by Hal and Chester.
The first column approached to within fifty yards of the automobiles before being discovered. Then the cry of a German sentry rang out.
At the word of command, the British opened fire, and again charged with fixed bayonets. But the German guard was strong, and evidently had been on the alert against a possible surprise.
A rapid-fire gun stationed near the automobiles opened fire. The first column of men was literally annihilated, Captain Anderson himself going to the ground with a severe wound in his chest. Not one of the troopers reached the automobile.
Seeing what had happened to the first column, Hal and Chester were more wary. They approached from two directions, and, before the machine-gun could be turned upon them, were at hand grips with the enemy.
A squad of men hurled themselves upon the German gunners, and this weapon spoke no more. Then the British advanced upon the aviators, who stood near to guard their machines.
Both sides were fighting in small groups, and at once began a fierce interchange of shots at a distance of fifteen yards. The airmen, who were crouching along the edge of the road, answered the British fire with great bravery and vigor.
While this fighting was in progress, the detachments of engineers, which had been in the extreme rear of the British columns, armed with improvised tools, hurled themselves upon the aëroplanes. With sure blows from their rifle butts, and whatever other implements they could lay hands on nearby, theydestroyed the motors, the gasoline reservoirs and the running gear of the German machines.
At this moment one of the armored automobiles burst into flames. A fierce red glare shot high into the air, lighting up the scene of carnage with great brilliancy.
While the little column commanded by Chester now withdrew a short distance, the lad having ordered this in the hope that he might find Captain Anderson still alive, Hal, with the comparatively few remaining men, advanced to one of the armored automobiles, in which stood a German officer, directing his men.
The officer opened fire on these few British with an automatic revolver. Two men fell. Hal felt a bullet graze his arm, but not before he had discharged his own weapon against the chest of his opponent, who fell to the ground, fatally wounded.
A second German, whom Hal had not noticed in the machine before, brought his rifle butt down over Hal’s head. But the lad’s quick eye had seen the descending weapon, and his upraised arm warded off the blow. His left arm, however, fell to his side numb, and he stumbled and fell to the ground.
He was up in a moment, and sprang upon the German, one arm still hanging by his side, and his revolver gone. The German brought his rifle to bear, but, stepping quickly forward, the lad struckup the weapon, even as the German pressed the trigger.
With a quick leap Hal was in the automobile, and was grappling with the German trooper. The German, unable to use his rifle at such close quarters, struck out with his fist. Hal dodged and his opponent drew back with a cry of pain. His fist had struck the steel side of the car, and his arm was now useless.
The two were now on even terms. The German reached out and attempted to entwine his fingers in Hal’s throat, but the lad was too quick for him. Dodging suddenly, he came up under the other’s chin, and sent him spinning head over heels from the car, so fierce was the contact.
Then the lad turned his eyes to other sections of the field. He could see no signs of an enemy. Evidently the Germans had had enough, or were awaiting the arrival of reinforcements before renewing the fight, for they had no way of determining the strength of the British attacking party.
In any event, Hal realized that there was no time to lose. Leaping from the car, he ordered the few men who were left to man the waiting automobiles, quickly ascertaining that there were enough men capable of driving them. Then he set out to hunt Chester and Captain Anderson.
He found Chester on his knee, supporting the unconscious form of their friend.
“Hurry, Chester, get him into this car,” he ordered. “We’ll have to get out of here at once.”
He helped the men lift the unconscious British officer into one of the automobiles, leaped in himself, and took the wheel.
Five of the other cars also were ready to go, each containing twenty men, all that was left of the thousand who had made a dash for the farmhouse in the morning.
Hal gave his orders slowly and tersely.
“Follow me, single file,” he called to his men, “until I give the word to close up. Then range right alongside of me. We will go as swiftly as possible, and try to get through the German lines without a fight, if by any chance it is possible. However, if we have to make a quick dash and fight, it would be better to do it side by side, and plow right into the enemy. Do you understand?”
The driver of each car signified that he understood perfectly, and Hal started his car off slowly. The others fell in line, and soon all were moving along at a brisk pace.
Hal found time to call back over his shoulder to Chester:
“How is the captain?”
“I fear he is in pretty bad shape,” was the reply; but, even at that moment, the captain showed signs of returning consciousness.
He stirred a little and moaned feebly. Then he raised his head.
“Where am I?” he demanded.
Slowly and carefully Chester explained the situation to him.
“And was the raid a success?” he asked. “Were the German aëroplanes destroyed?”
“Yes, every one of them,” replied Chester.
“Good! Now, give me a rifle, or a revolver, or something. I know we can’t get through the Germans without a fight, and I want to do my part.”
In vain did Chester protest. Captain Anderson insisted, and at length Chester was forced to comply.
As the five automobiles, containing not more than a hundred British all told, approached the center of the German force, each man determined to get through to the allied lines or to die in the attempt.
Swiftly the high-powered armored motor-cars rushed on, drawing closer and closer to the solid ranks of the enemy. Not expecting trouble from within their own lines, the Germans were not on the lookout for this spectacular dash, and so were caught unprepared.
Hal gave the prearranged signal. The other cars increased their speed and drew up to him, two on either side. At a second signal they increased their speed to the utmost, and dashed forward.
The Germans lay sprawled about, the close formation having been more or less broken following the morning fight. The five speeding monsters were upon them almost before they realized it. As the cars approached the first irregular line of troopers, the British in the machines opened fire. In spite of their terrific speed, their aim was good. Germans tumbled right and left, or fell back as they attempted to rise.
Then the machines plowed in among them, hurling them helter-skelter on all sides, the occupants continuing their destructive fire.
But now the Germans opened fire, and, in spite of the fact that the speed of the flying automobiles made accurate shooting impossible, the British did not escape scot-free. Three men in one of the machines to the left of the one driven by Hal dropped their rifles and sank to the bottom of the car. In one on the opposite side a soldier threw up his hands and tumbled from the car.
Hal, protected as he was on either side, had not been touched, nor had Chester, who stood erect the while, firing rapidly with his automatic.
Suddenly the car nearest the lads on the left swerved, and almost bumped into them; in fact, would have done so, but for Hal’s promptness in turning slightly to the right. The driver of the car had been struck by a German bullet and killed.
The driverless machine, swerving suddenly to the left, leaped forward ahead of the others, turned suddenly to the right again, and plunged straight toward the dense masses of Germans, the British inside still shooting as calmly as though they stood on firm ground, although it was plainly evident to them that the wild car was carrying them to certain death.
All this the boys could see at a glance, but they quickly passed beyond, and so did not see the gallant fate of their comrades.
Plunging straight into the dense masses of Germans, the gallant machine leaped upon them like athing of life, hurling them off on all sides, and running amuck over their prostrate forms. Then, with another sudden turn to the left, it sped directly toward a group of officers, who stood nearby directing the firing. So sudden was this unexpected turn that the officers were run down before they could move from their tracks.
Then the machine darted straight at a German field battery.
It was a fatal move, for a German gunner sprang forward—there was a fearful roar—a loud explosion, a cloud of smoke, and, when the smoke had cleared away, there was no automobile to be seen—nothing but wreckage and a few maimed bodies scattered about.
But Hal and his companions were having troubles of their own. Even at the moment that the first car disappeared in smoke, the driver of a second sprang to his feet, waved his arms about, as he wildly gasped for air, and tumbled overboard. The machine, now wild, turned and crashed into its nearest neighbor.
There was a terrific crash, and both cars turned turtle. Came a cry of triumph from the Germans, but Hal and the driver of the other remaining car paid no heed; rather, if possible, their cars leaped ahead faster than before.
But the herculean task the lads had set out to accomplish was too much. In spite of the fact thatthe Germans had been taken by surprise, their numbers were so great that the success of such a dash was impossible.
Straight ahead the boys made out a regiment, drawn up with leveled rifles. In one last desperate attempt to break through, Hal and the driver of the other car dashed into them.
A blow from the butt of a German rifle knocked the driver of the second car from his seat as he swept past, and the machine, turning round and round, like a huge top, suddenly turned over, pinioning its occupants beneath it.
A second later and Hal felt a sharp sting in his left hand. In spite of the desperate attempt he made to keep the machine steady, it rocked from side to side at the sudden loosening of his hand.
Fearing that all would be killed if he did not stop the machine, the lad threw off the clutch and applied the brakes. Then, in the center of a large force of Germans, who came rushing in upon them, the lad stood up in the machine, and, raising his uninjured hand, shouted:
“We surrender!”
A German officer called a hoarse command, and the long line of threatening rifles was lowered.
“Come out of there,” called the officer, “and be quick about it.”
Hal did as commanded, and a moment later Chester also was on the ground. Turning back to themachine, they tenderly lifted Captain Anderson out and laid him on the ground. He had fainted during the wild ride.
Hal turned to the German officer.
“Will you please see that my friend,” indicating the captain, “receives medical attention at once?”
“It shall be done immediately,” returned the German officer gravely, and motioned to two of his men to carry the unconscious captain to a nearby hospital tent. Then he turned to Hal and Chester.
“Do you know that you have created terrible havoc in our ranks?” he demanded.
Hal smiled grimly.
“That is what we intended to do,” he made reply. “However, we wouldn’t have done so had you permitted us to return to our lines in peace.”
The German officer also smiled faintly.
“You are bold lads,” he said quietly. “Come, I will take you to General Von Kluck.”
The lads followed the officer, and presently came before the German commander, the man whose great military genius some days later saved his wing of the army from probable annihilation.
Standing beside the German commander was another officer, somewhat younger, recognizing whom, Hal’s heart leaped into his throat. This second officer was none other than the man who, some days before, had placed in Hal’s hands dispatches for General Von Kluck—papers that, through Hal’sbravery, had been turned over to General French, and had thus foiled the coup planned by the Kaiser himself.
The German recognized Hal almost immediately, in spite of his British uniform. He stepped forward, and, with a sneering smile, said:
“How do you do, Captain Dersam?”
General Von Kluck, who had been looking silently at the two lads, turned to the officer.
“You know these prisoners?” he questioned.
“Well, I know one of them,” was the reply. “That is, I thought I did once. It seems that I was mistaken.”
“Explain yourself.”
“This,” said the German, pointing to Hal, “is the young man to whom I told you I delivered the dispatches intended for you. He represented himself to me as Captain Dersam, of your staff. Later we found Captain Dersam gagged and bound on the banks of the Marne. Therefore, this officer must be a traitor.”
General Von Kluck rose to his feet excitedly.
“So,” he exclaimed, “you are the man whom we have to thank for the defeat of our plan, eh?” He turned to the officer. “And you say he was in German uniform?”
“Yes, sir.”
The general turned to Hal.
“Do you know what that means?” he asked.
Hal nodded his head.
“It means,” continued the general, “that you are a spy. You shall pay the penalty.”
“But,” Hal protested, “I was not captured within your lines in German uniform nor in disguise. You cannot treat me as a spy.”
“I can’t, eh?” cried General Von Kluck angrily. “Well, you shall see.”
“The boy is right,” came a stern voice from behind him, and, turning, Hal started back in amazement.
“The Emperor!” he cried.
And from other throats in the group came the time-worn salutation:
“Hoch der Kaiser!”
“Yes,” continued the Emperor of Germany, “the boy is right. He has spoiled our plans, I will admit; but it takes a brave man to wander into our lines as he did. It takes a brave one to have made a dash in the armored cars I have just witnessed; and it takes a brave man to raid right into the heart of our arms and destroy twenty-five aëroplanes, as I have no doubt he did.”
“What,” exclaimed all the German officers in the tent, “the aëroplanes destroyed?”
“Yes,” continued the emperor, “and with them another opportunity to deal a death-blow to the English.” Then, turning to Hal: “I have no doubt that you were concerned in that—am I right?”
“Yes, your majesty,” said the lad.
“I thought so,” said the emperor, and he turned again to General Von Kluck.
“The lad is perfectly right when he says that he was not captured in disguise. No doubt he was within our lines in German uniform, but, as he was not captured, he cannot be executed as a spy. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sire,” said General Von Kluck, bowing low.
“It seems to me,” went on the Kaiser, “that rather than spend so much time looking for spies to put to death, it would be advantageous if some of my officers would expend their energies in looking more carefully after my interests.”
Once more the emperor turned to Hal.
“If I mistake not,” he said, “you are an American. Am I right?”
“Yes, sire,” said Hal.
“Then how comes it that you are fighting for Great Britain?”
Hal explained the misfortunes by which they had been left in Germany, and of how, eventually, they had taken service with the Allies.
“And who is your friend?” asked the Kaiser, pointing to Chester.
“Chester Crawford, sire,” replied Hal, “my boyhood chum.”
“And the wounded man?”
“An English officer, your majesty,” said Hal, “and a brave one.”
“I have found that all the British are brave,” said the Kaiser grimly. “I was misinformed as to their attitude in this crisis,” and the Kaiser’s voice grew harsh; “it was not the only subject on which I was misinformed.”
His words were clearly intended for the officers, more than for Hal.
He was silent for some moments, and then to General Von Kluck:
“General, I will take these lads to my own quarters. I desire to question them on matters pertaining to their own country. You will send a guard for them in two hours.”
“Yes, sire,” said General Von Kluck.
The Kaiser motioned to Hal and Chester.
“Follow me,” he commanded.
Surrounded by his personal bodyguard, and with Hal and Chester close behind him, the emperor made his way to his own handsome and luxurious field quarters.
Inside the tent he motioned the two lads to seats.
“Now, tell me,” he said, “what is the general sentiment in America toward Germany? Where is the general sympathy in this war?”
He had addressed Hal, so the latter replied, Chester maintaining a discreet silence.
“We were not in America when the war broke out, your majesty,” he said, “but I believe that I am right when I say that the sympathies of the United States, generally speaking, are with the Allies.”
The Kaiser nodded his head.
“I was afraid so,” he said. “But why?”
“As to why, I can’t say,” replied Hal. “Chiefly,I suppose, because it is an English-speaking country.”
“I suppose that is true,” said the emperor, “and still there are many more persons of German descent in the United States than of any other nationality. Do the people of the United States believe that Germany brought about this war?”
“From what I have heard from Canadian officers and some others, I am afraid they do, your majesty,” said Hal.
“It is not true,” thundered the Kaiser, bringing his clenched fist down heavily on the table. “I tell you it is not true. Do you understand? It is not true. I did all in my power to prevent this war. It is Czar Nicholas of Russia who is to blame. He and his Slavs would overrun Germany. But, with the help of God, I shall prevent it. I will not be called the War Lord of Europe for nothing!”
Hal and Chester were startled at this sudden outburst. Neither realized that Hal was, perhaps, the only person who had dared to stand before the German monarch and tell him to his face that he had not the sympathy of the whole world, and that he was held responsible for the greatest war of all history.
Now the Kaiser was talking to himself, his fists still clenched, and he tapped nervously on the table, as he muttered:
“They have lied to me. Yes, they have lied to me. They told me that few held me to blame, that the sympathy of the world was with me. I thought they lied then. I am sure of it now.”
Suddenly he ceased talking, and turned to the table, where he was soon engrossed in looking over some papers and maps. So he sat, utterly disregarding the presence of the two American boys; nor did they venture to interrupt his profound study, until two hours later General Von Kluck sent the guard ordered by the Kaiser to take them away. When the officer in charge of the squad made known his commission, the emperor signified his consent with a nod of his head. He addressed no further words to Hal or Chester.
“I am commanded,” said the German officer, “to take you to my tent and see that you are well guarded, until it is decided what disposition is to be made of you.”
In a large and commodious tent the boys were made comfortable, and a guard stationed around the outside. Then the officer took himself away to make his report to the general.
“Well,” said Chester, “they have got us this time, and I don’t see any way of escape. Here we are, right in the heart of the German army, and we might just as well be in the Sahara desert, as far as our chances go of getting back to our own lines.”
“Don’t be so downhearted,” said Hal. “More peculiar things have happened. We are at least in no danger of being shot. I suppose we should be thankful for that.”
“Yes, I suppose we should,” Chester agreed. “But just the same I would like to be back where we belong.”
“Well, you can’t tell,” said Hal. “We may be able to give them the slip. However, I would be opposed to any plan that did not have a good chance of success. For, if we failed, I am sure they would shoot us without compunction.”
“There is no doubt of that,” said Chester. “Von Kluck would do it anyhow, if he didn’t fear the heavy hand of the Kaiser. By the way, what do you think of the Kaiser, anyhow?”
“Well,” said Hal slowly, “I believe, in the first place, that he takes himself too seriously. I believe that he considers himself the chosen instrument of Heaven to put down the Slavs, to say nothing of the French and English. He has the mistaken idea that he is a man of destiny.”
“Yes,” agreed Chester, “there is no doubt that he thinks he is right and the whole world wrong.”
Further talk was interrupted by the return of the German officer.
“You are to remain here for the next few days,” he informed them. “As the emperor has interested himself in your behalf, General Von Kluck is awaitingfurther word from him as to what to do with you. Right now the emperor will not talk. He is busy with his maps and papers, and, when he is busy, no one dare disturb him.”
“And what do you suppose will be done with us eventually?” asked Chester.
“Why,” was the reply, “I suppose you will be treated as all other prisoners of war. You probably will be sent to Berlin.”
“Back to Berlin!” exclaimed Chester in deep disgust.
“Back to Berlin!” repeated Hal, and he punctured his exclamation with a long whistle. “Great Scott!”
It was indeed a sad word to the ears of the two young American lads. As Hal said, they had had trouble enough getting out of Berlin at the outbreak of the war, and had almost been forced back to the German capital once before. To be prisoners of war in Berlin certainly would be an inglorious finish to their military careers.
“I would rather go to any one other spot on the map,” Chester told his chum. “Berlin! Can you imagine being cooped up there and never even knowing what is going on?”
“It would be tough,” Hal agreed. “And, once there, I am afraid we would have to stay until after the war. I don’t imagine there is much danger of anyone escaping from that place now.”
“Nor I,” said Chester. “If we hope to get away, we shall have to do it before we get to Berlin.”
But it seemed that the lads, if they had any hopes of escape, were doomed to disappointment. They were carefully guarded, and, while they were made comfortable, there was never a moment that they were not beneath some watchful eye.
Several times they were allowed to leave their canvas prison and stroll about outside, but on each of these excursions the German officer in whose custody they had been placed accompanied them; and finally from General Von Kluck came the order for them to be sent to Berlin.
“I sort of hate to see you go,” the German officer told them, upon informing them of their fate. “We have gotten along famously together. However, I am sure you will be well treated in Berlin, and that when you are released at the end of the war you will be able to deny some of the tales of German cruelty to their prisoners.”
“From the treatment we already have received we can deny them now,” said Hal.
“Indeed we can,” Chester agreed.
“Come,” continued the officer, “what do you say to a little walk around? You will not start on your journey until to-night.”
Accompanied by their guard the boys once more started on an excursion through the huge German camp. For an hour or more they walked about, discussing the war in its various phases, but finally the officer told them that it was time for him to report for duty, and they started back toward their temporary prison.
As they were walking slowly along a large gray shape came bounding toward them. Almost in front of them it came to a stop. It was a dog.
Hal reached forth a hand and patted the animal on the head, and the dog’s tail wagged in friendship. But when the German officer also stretched forth a hand, he uttered a menacing growl.
“He must be one of your French war dogs,” said the German with a laugh, quickly withdrawing his hand. “We have captured a large number of them, and, in spite of the fact that we treat them as well as we know how, they will have nothing to do with us.”
At that moment another German officer approached the trio, and, as he came closer, the dog snarled and showed his teeth. The German drew back his foot, and, before anyone could interfere, kicked the animal sharply in the ribs.
But the German paid dearly for this act, for, with one quick bound, the dog leaped upon his assailant, and, snarling fiercely, bore him to the ground. Hal, Chester and their officer friend jumped quickly forward, and, after a sharp tussle, succeeded in dragging the dog off, though not until he had considerably shaken up his victim, even drawing blood from a wound in his throat.
With a fierce imprecation, the German reached for his revolver, drew it quickly, and aimed it at the dog. But, before he could pull the trigger, Chester leaped forward, and, with a quick movement of his arm, knocked the weapon from the German’s hand.
The German turned angrily on the lad.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, in a rage.
“You won’t shoot him while I am here,” cried Chester, also aroused.
“What business is it of yours whether I shoot him or not?”
“You try it again and I’ll show you what business it is of mine, if the whole German army is standing round,” shouted Chester furiously.
Hal grabbed his friend by the coat and attempted to pull him back, but Chester was too angry now to pay any heed, and he stood facing the German threateningly.
At this point the other officer evidently decided it was time to interfere.
“Come, come,” he said to Chester. “That’s enough of this. I am sure Lieutenant Dennig meant no harm. I’m sure he’ll apologize if he has said or done anything to displease you.”
“What! Me apologize?” demanded the German. “And what for, pray?”
“I don’t want any apology,” declared Chester. “All I want is for him to understand he can’t shoot a dumb animal while I’m around.”
“Is that so?” sneered the German, but the boys’ guard cut him short.
“Lieutenant Dennig,” he said sharply, “you forgetyourself. These prisoners are under my protection and shall not be insulted.”
The lieutenant drew himself up sharply, saluted his superior officer, and walked rapidly away.
“One more enemy,” said Chester to Hal, as the man made off.
“Oh, he’ll get over it,” laughed the boys’ guard. “He knows he is in the wrong—that’s what makes him so angry.”
The object of this little unpleasantness still stood near, wagging his tail and looking at the two lads. When they continued their walk toward their tent, he calmly followed them.
The lads did not notice this, however, until they had entered the tent, and then Hal espied the nose of their newly-found friend poking its way in after them. A moment later and the dog was curled up at one side of the tent, sleeping.
“Looks like there are three of you to guard now, instead of two,” said the officer. “However, I guess it is all right.”
“I wonder if it would be possible,” said Chester, struck with a sudden thought, “for us to take him to Berlin with us?”
“I’ll see what can be done about it,” replied the officer. “I believe that I can arrange it all right.”
“We certainly would appreciate it,” continued Chester, “and, if the time ever comes when wemay be of service to you, you may command us.” The officer smiled.
“I doubt if you will ever have the opportunity,” he said. “Present circumstances would indicate that there is little likelihood of it.”
“Well, you never can tell,” said Hal, “the fortunes of war, you know.”
“True,” said the German, “and, if ever occasion arises, I shall take you at your word.”
He bowed and left the tent. Hal and Chester now turned their attention to the dog, which still lay sleeping. Chester whistled sharply. The dog was on his feet in a second, ears cocked and sniffing the air eagerly.
“A real war dog, all right,” said Chester. “What shall we call him, Hal?”
“Perhaps he has a name already,” said Hal. “Try him.”
Chester called off the many dog names familiar to him, and Hal added a few. But, although the animal wagged his tail with evident pleasure at thus being talked to, he gave no evidence of owning any of the names in the boys’ vocabulary.
Hal approached and laid his hand on the dog’s head. Then, for the first time, he noticed the collar he wore.
“Hello!” he said, in some surprise.
“What is it?” said Chester, also approaching.
“Collar,” said Hal briefly. “Perhaps his name is on it.”
Both boys bent over the dog.
“Here it is, sure enough,” cried Chester.
“Can you make it out?” asked Hal.
“It’s a little dark,” replied the lad. “Bring him over here nearer the light.”
This was done, and once more Chester bent over the collar.
“Well?” demanded Hal.
“Yes, I can read it,” replied Chester.
“What is it?” demanded Hal.
Chester read aloud:
“Marquis—Twenty-third French Infantry.”
“A dispatch dog, eh?” said Hal.
“Yes,” said Chester; “and, if I mistake not, a very valuable addition to our party.”
By dint of persuasion the German officer succeeded in gaining the consent of General Von Kluck to allow the boys to take the dog with them. That Marquis was just as pleased to go as the boys were to have him, was plainly evident. When they left their tent for the last time, and whistled to him to follow, he bounded after them with enthusiasm.
The train on which the boys were to be taken back to Berlin did not leave until well along toward midnight, but, with some 5,000 other prisoners, British, French and Belgians alike, they were bundled aboard early. Heavily guarded, and without a weapon of any kind or description, there was no fear of a break for liberty, in spite of the large number of prisoners.
The lads were shoved into a car already loaded down with prisoners and took their positions at the far end, the dog between them. In spite of misfortune, the prisoners all were far from unhappy. They joked and chatted as though they were on a pleasure trip.
Finally, after much delay, the train started witha jolt, tumbling men all over each other as it gradually gathered momentum. They were hurled hither and yon, but they only laughed.
The trip was necessarily slow, for the train, time after time, was switched on to a siding to permit of the movement of German troop trains carrying soldiers from the western theater of war to the east, or from the east to the west.
Consequently, it was late the following night when the train finally pulled in, and the prisoners were ordered to get out. Under the leveled rifles of a strong German guard, they stepped to the ground, and, after being divided into squads at the direction of the German officer in command, were marched away.
Hal, Chester and Marquis were among the last to leave the train. As the dog tumbled out after them, there was an exclamation from a German officer.
“What have we here?” he demanded, approaching the boys. “A dog, eh? Well, we haven’t time to fool with dogs,” and he leveled his pistol at Marquis.
Marquis drew back his lips in a snarl, even as Hal stepped forward to stay the German’s hand.
“This dog was allowed to come with us by special command of General Von Kluck,” he said quietly.
“So you say,” was the reply. “But how am I to know that you speak the truth?”
“The very fact that he was allowed in the car should be sufficient proof of that,” said Hal quietly.
The German officer lowered his weapon.
“I guess you are right,” he said. “I beg your pardon.”
He appraised the boys with a critical eye, and then became more friendly.
“You are British officers?” he asked.
“We are attached to the staff of General French,” Chester replied.
“So? and at your age? I presume you have seen considerable action?”
“Considerable,” replied Hal, with a smile; “at Liège, Louvain, the battle of the Marne, and some other skirmishes.”
“You have been in luck,” said the officer. “And here I have been, ever since the war broke out, receiving prisoners as they are sent on. Worse luck!”
“Cheer up,” said Chester, smilingly, “you probably will get your chance before the war is over.”
“I hope so,” replied the German, and continued: “I am going to arrange for you to come with me—yes, and the dog, too,” as he saw Hal glance at his canine friend. “You can tell me stories of the war. Besides, I am interested to know how it is that two so young should have seen so much fighting.”
“If I may make so bold,” said Hal, “you are not so old yourself.”
“True,” said the German, with a pleasant smile. “But I am twenty,” he added proudly.
“Then we are not much younger than you,” said Chester.
“Well, maybe not; but you seem to have had a whole lot more fun.”
His other work disposed of, the German turned to the two lads.
“Come with me,” he said, and the boys followed him.
“I am at liberty to accept your parole,” said the young German, “if you are prepared to give it.”
Chester glanced quickly at Hal, and the latter replied.
“We appreciate your offer very much, but we decided long ago that we would give our parole to no one.”
“Oh, well,” said the German, with a laugh, “it doesn’t matter. There is no chance of your getting out of Berlin, anyhow. However, since you refuse, it will be necessary to keep more careful watch over you.”
The officer bundled the two boys and the dog into a taxi, and they were soon riding along the streets.
“I am taking you to my home,” said the young officer. “While there, you will be treated as my guests, except that you will always be guarded.”
“We understand,” said Chester quietly.
“Looks natural along here,” said Hal suddenly, nudging Chester.
“It certainly does,” said Chester, with a smile, for he had at that moment recognized the spot where he, Hal, Lieutenant Anderson and Captain Derevaux had met for the first time—the spot where the French and British officer had been set upon by a gang of young thugs.
“What, you have been in Berlin before?” questioned the German officer in some surprise.
“Oh, yes,” said Hal. “We spent one vacation here with my mother.”
He thought it best not to let the German know how they had escaped from the German capital following the outbreak of the war. Chester also made no reference to this.
All the streets which the taxi traversed were familiar to the boys now, and they pointed out different places of interest to each other as they sped along. Finally the taxi drew up and stopped.
The young German leaped lightly to the ground, and stood there as the boys emerged from the taxi. Looking up, the lads beheld a handsome and commodious house.
“My home,” said the lieutenant simply, “and yours, so long as you are forced to remain in Berlin.”
The lads followed their captor up the steps, andinto a prettily furnished hall, where a servant, summoned by the officer, hurried away with word for Mrs. Strauss, for, as Lieutenant Heinrich Strauss, the officer now introduced himself to the boys.
A few moments later a pleasant-faced woman appeared in the hall. The boys were quickly introduced to her, and she made them welcome, adding:
“I am sure the general also will be pleased to have you with us.”
Both lads looked questioningly at the young officer, who hastened to explain.
“General Strauss is my father, in command in Berlin. Perhaps were it not for that, I would not have ventured to bring you to my home. You would have to have gone with the other prisoners.”
“Thanks,” said Chester. “I am sure we both appreciate it.”
“Indeed we do,” agreed Hal.
Before either the young lieutenant or his mother could reply, there came a heavy footstep without; a moment later the door was thrown quickly open, and a German officer, huge in stature, and imposing in his uniform, draped with gold and lace, strode in. At sight of the two boys he came to a sudden pause.
“What have we here?” he demanded, in a great, booming voice.
“Two of my prisoners, sir,” said the lieutenant, stepping forward and saluting.
“Your prisoners, sir? Do you mean that they are spies whom you have captured in Berlin?”
“No, sir. They came with the last trainload of prisoners.”
“Then, why are they not with the others?” demanded General Strauss sternly.
“Why, sir,” stammered the lieutenant, “I—I——”
“Enough,” said the general in a softer voice, his eyes twinkling although this he endeavored in vain to hide. “You mean that you are up to some of your old tricks—that your sympathies have gotten the upper hand of your better judgment. Do you know what I should do with you, sir?”
The lieutenant made no reply, and the father continued:
“I should have you court-martialed for disobeying the command of your superior officer. But I won’t do it this time. However, it is a very good thing that our emperor—God bless him—is a very good friend of your father.Otherwise——”
He broke off and shrugged his shoulders significantly, then continued:
“Then no doubt that big gray dog I stumbled over outside—and which almost bit me—is the property of your prisoners.”
Hal stepped forward and saluted.
“He is, sir,” he said.
The old general eyed the lad for some minutesin silence. Hal bore the scrutiny without flinching. Then the general turned to Chester and repeated the process. Chester also met his gaze squarely.
“Humph!” ejaculated the German commander; then turned suddenly to his son.
“When you have introduced us,” he said, “we shall all go in and have something to eat!”