CHAPTER XIISTUBBS EXPLAINS
“Come along, Stubbs,” said Chester. “Time is growing short. Fritz is likely to open fire most any minute.”
“And the first shot is sure to hit me,” said Stubbs. “Well, I can run if I have to.”
He sprang out of the shell crater as he spoke and made for the American lines at full speed.
“Guess we might as well do a little sprint ourselves,” said Hal.
The two lads dashed after Stubbs.
Stubbs was surrounded by a crowd of soldiers when Hal and Chester clambered into the trenches. There was amazement on the faces of most of the men at the fact that a man should appear from No Man’s Land and not be attired in uniform; for Stubbs wore only a plain khaki suit, cut after the fashion of military garments, it is true, but still plainly not a uniform.
“Glad to see you boys again,” said Stubbs, as Hal and Chester walked up to him. “Where’ve you been all these days?”
“Fighting,” said Chester, “which is more than you can say, Mr. Stubbs.”
“That so?” said Stubbs in a huff. “Maybe you think I was out in No Man’s Land there for my health, eh?”
“Well, hardly,” Hal broke in, “but I’ll wager you didn’t go out there to have a shot at a Boche.”
“Come, Mr. Stubbs,” said Chester, “tell us just why you were in that shell hole.”
“I was in that hole,” said Stubbs, “because the managing editor of the New YorkGazettesaid he wanted a good descriptive story of a battle. I figured that a shell hole was as good a place as any to see what was going on.”
“Still a newspaper man, then, Stubbs?” said Hal.
“You bet.”
“I thought you had gone out of that business,” said Chester. “I remember finding you in Berlin once on a mission that had nothing to do with a newspaper.”
“Oh, well, a fellow likes to help out once in a while,” rejoined Stubbs modestly.
“Then why don’t you shoulder a gun, Stubbs?” demanded Hal.
“Look here,” said Stubbs angrily. “I’m getting good and tired of having you fellows pick on me all the time. I haven’t joined out because, in the first place, I’m no fighter. I’m of a great deal more value in this war in my present capacity. There are enough young men to do the fighting. I’m trying to keep the folks back home in touch with what you’re doing. And you can believe me or not, they are glad to be kept in touch.”
“I’ve no doubt of it, Mr. Stubbs,” said Hal with a smile. “Never mind, we won’t pester you any more for a while.”
“For a while, eh?” said Stubbs, grinning. “I didn’t think you could mean permanently.”
At that moment Captain O’Neil approached. Hal and Chester saluted and stood at attention.
“You had better turn in, lieutenants,” said the captain. He eyed Stubbs closely. “What’s this man doing here?” he wanted to know.
“War correspondent, sir,” replied Hal, and introduced Stubbs.
“You have no business at the front, Mr. Stubbs,” said Captain O’Neil. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave. Not that I am afraid you’ll let loose any military secrets—the censor will see to that when you file your dispatches—but it’s against orders, you know.”
“Maybe so,” said Stubbs, “but somebody has to tell the people at home what is going on over here.”
“The proper authorities will see to that, sir.”
“Well,” said Stubbs, “in my mind the newspapers are the proper authorities in this case. They know how to tell the people so they will understand.”
“I don’t wish to quarrel with you, sir,” said Captain O’Neil sharply.
“Nor I,” said Stubbs. “I’m not a fighting man, captain.”
“Then, sir, you must leave at once or I shall be forced to place you under arrest.”
“Oh, no you won’t,” said Stubbs grimly. “Hold on,” he cried, as Captain O’Neil took a step forward. “No offense, captain. Just have a look at this paper.”
He produced a document from his pocket and passed it to the captain. Captain O’Neil read it quickly and then passed it back.
“Why didn’t you say in the first place that you had a pass from the commander-in-chief?”
“You didn’t give me time, captain.”
Captain O’Neil turned to Hal and Chester.
“You may care for the company of war correspondents,” he said with some heat. “Every man to his choice. But I don’t.”
He turned on his heel and strode away.
“There, Stubbs,” said Chester. “You’ve made him mad.”
“Well, I can’t help it because he is so touchy, can I?” asked Stubbs.
“Perhaps not. But there was no need to offend him.”
“Most of these officers are a trifle too cocky,” declared Stubbs. “I thought I’d take him down a peg.”
“Don’t forget, Mr. Stubbs,” said Chester, taking a step forward, “that I’m an officer, too. I can have you placed under arrest, you know.”
“You won’t, though,” said Stubbs.
“Won’t I?” said Chester. “Why won’t I?”
“In the first place,” said Stubbs, “because you are too glad to see me again. And in the second place, because I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Out with it then, Mr. Stubbs,” said Hal.
“Wait a minute, now, just wait a minute,” said Stubbs. “Take me to your quarters where we can be quiet. You’ll have to put me up for the night, anyhow, and we might as well be comfortable while we chat.”
The three made their way to the lads’ quarters. Stubbs sat down on the edge of Hal’s bunk and produced a pipe.
“Learned to smoke yet?” he asked of the boys.
“Not yet, Stubbs,” said Hal, “and I guess we never will.”
“Take my advice and learn,” said Stubbs. “It’s a great comfort to a man sometimes.”
“Perhaps,” said Chester. “But it’s a habit too easily cultivated and too hard to stop. I’m satisfied without tobacco.”
“Every man to his taste, as Captain O’Neil says,” commented Stubbs with a laugh.
“Come, Stubbs,” said Hal. “You said you had something to tell us. Out with it.”
Stubbs puffed away for some moments in silence and it was plain to Hal and Chester that he was thinking deeply.
“I suppose I really should say nothing,” said Stubbs, “but I know that I can depend on you boys to repeat nothing I say. Besides, I’ve simply got to express my feelings to someone.”
“If it’s only an expression of feeling, maybe it isn’t so important after all, Stubbs,” remarked Chester.
“Well,” said Stubbs, “the thing that I mean is this. I am willing to bet anything I ever expect to have that what I have learned in the last few days is going to result in an Allied offensive that will put an end to this war.”
Hal and Chester sprang to their feet.
“You’re sure, Stubbs?” demanded Chester.
“I’m sure enough in my own mind,” declared the war correspondent, waving the lads back to their seats. “Of course, it is always possible that things won’t work out the way I figure; but knowing the caliber of a certain man in Uncle Sam’s expeditionary forces I figure that they will work out.”
“Explain, Mr. Stubbs,” said Hal.
“Has it ever struck either of you,” said Stubbs slowly, between puffs at his pipe, “that it’s all foolishness for the Allies to remain snug and wait until the enemy does the attacking? I mean, haven’t you thought that perhaps more could be accomplished if the Allies carried the fighting to the foe?”
Hal nodded.
“It has,” he said.
“Well, the same thought has struck some one else,” declared Stubbs.
“You mean——” began Chester.
“Exactly,” said Stubbs. “I mean General Pershing, unless I have been grossly misinformed.”
“You mean that General Pershing will order an American advance?” exclaimed Chester.
“No, no. He can’t do that. Marshal Foch is commander-in-chief of the Allied forces and it’s up to him to decide. What I mean is that General Pershing is not altogether pleased with the progress of events. I am informed that he believes a grand offensive on all fronts would do more toward ending the war right now than any other one thing.”
“Well, why doesn’t he tell Marshal Foch so?” demanded Chester.
“That,” said Stubbs quietly, “is what I am informed he intends to do.”
“Hurray!” shouted Hal.
“Quiet,” said Stubbs sharply. “Not a word of what I have told you must be repeated. It doesn’t make any difference how I know all this. It’s sufficient that I do know it. However, things may not work out as I expect. It is possible that General Pershing’s advice may not prevail. He may be overruled by Marshal Foch and General Haig at their conference Thursday.”
“So there is going to be a conference, eh?” said Hal.
“Yes. As I say, the conference is to be held Thursday, day after to-morrow. It will be held in Marshal Foch’s headquarters. It may result in developments and it may not. At all events, I am quite certain that General Pershing will go to the conference prepared to urge an immediate advance.”
“By Jove! That sounds awfully good to me!” declared Chester.
“And to me,” agreed Hal. “I’d like to be present at that conference.”
“We’d all like to be there,” said Stubbs dryly. “But there’s not a chance. Not a chance.”
But, as it developed, there was a chance; not a chance for Stubbs, war correspondent, perhaps, but more than a chance for Hal and Chester.
It was pure accident that gave them this opportunity.