CHAPTER XIXREVOLT
It was not yet six o’clock in the morning when the first day shift went to work. Under the advice of the Englishman, Hal and Chester worked as slowly as possible, the better to accustom their muscles to their new task. But after an hour’s work, Hal commenced to grow tired.
Nevertheless, the lad did his best, for common sense told him that it would be wise not to lag. Soon after eight o’clock, however, his arms ached so that it seemed impossible for him to work longer.
He staggered slightly as he drove his pick home.
This movement did not escape the keen eye of the nearest German guard, who immediately approached and stood watching the lad closely. Again Hal staggered and his pick fell short of its mark.
“Get to work there!” cried the guard sharply.
Hal tried his best, but it was no use. The pick fell from his tired hands.
The guard stepped quickly forward and struck the lad sharply across the face with his open left hand. Under the blow, Hal received new strength as his fighting spirit was aroused. He stepped toward the guard, an angry gleam in his eye and his fists clenched.
The German hastily moved back a couple of paces and half raised his rifle.
“Get to work!” he cried again.
The lad bethought himself of the Englishman’s advice, and stooping, recovered his pick. Again he attacked the wall of coal.
Chester’s strength, meantime, had also given out. Unlike Hal, however, Chester did not work on until he could no longer lift his pick. When he felt that he could no longer dig, he cast his pick away from him and sat down on the ground. Immediately a guard was at his side.
“Up out of there, you American pig!” he commanded.
Chester glanced at the man idly, but said nothing. Neither did he get to his feet.
But the lad was moved from his position by the square toe of the guard’s heavy boot. Away went Chester’s thoughts of caution. With a single move, he seized his pick and sprang forward. The guard gave ground.
The pick flashed above the lad’s head and then came down sharply. The German escaped the blow by a quick leap backward. Instantly he lowered his rifle and there was a flash and a report. Chester heard the bullet sing past his ear.
There came a tramping of hurried feet as other guards, fearing a concerted revolt, rushed to the aid of their companion. Gleams of hope lighted the eyes of the prisoners. Hardly a man there who, at one time or another, had not thought of escape, and now, to many, it seemed that the time was ripe.
They rushed into the melee.
Came the sound of blows and curses in the half-light. Several rifles spoke.
Hal, realizing Chester’s danger, in spite of the aches in his limbs, sprang to his feet and dashed into the knot of struggling men. British arms struck out right and left. Frenchmen kicked out with their heavy boots and bit and clawed. Hal and Chester, the only Americans below ground in this section, fought swiftly and silently.
But there was only one possible ending for a struggle such as this. Had the movement been preconceived and launched in a concerted attack, the result might have been different, although even that is doubtful. As it was, outnumbered and with all the firearms in the hands of the Germans, it was only a matter of minutes until the prisoners must be subdued.
Among the most prominent in the fight was the Englishman Harding. He was a powerful man, as Hal had noted at first glance. Day after day of toil in the mines had added wonderfully to his strength and he now laid about with his pick with the fury of a madman.
Half a dozen guards he had laid low when a German bullet crashed into his body and brought him to the ground. His fall seemed to dishearten the other prisoners, who seem to have looked upon him as a leader. Their resistance grew feebler and they gave ground.
The German guards by this time had succeeded in getting together and now they covered the prisoners with a score of rifles.
“Fire!” came a command.
In the huddled mass of prisoners, five men tumbled over. Two others groaned and others cursed.
There was no second volley.
Realizing that he had the mutiny under control, the German officer in command withheld another fire. The prisoners scattered as the guards advanced. Hal and Chester were left standing alone to face the Germans.
Both lads by this time had realized the utter foolishness of further resistance and now quietly awaited whatever was to come. The German officer turned to his men.
“Who started this?” he demanded. “Show me the leader of this plot!”
The man whom Chester had attacked, and who was still on his feet, stepped forward and saluted.
“Those two Americans, sir,” he said, pointing to Hal and Chester.
“So!” exclaimed the German captain.
He stepped close to the lads, his revolver ready in his right hand for instant use.
“Oh!” he said, “you are the new arrivals, eh? Well, you shall see how we treat such as you!”
He reversed his revolver suddenly and brought the butt down on Chester’s injured head. The lad dropped to the ground.
With a cry Hal sprang forward and before the German captain could protect himself Hal’s right fist sent him staggering back.
Cries of joy arose from the prisoners and for a moment it seemed that the struggle of a few moments before would be renewed.
But the German soldiers sprang forward and the prisoners became quiet again. Two men rushed forward and threw their arms about Hal, rendering him powerless. A third raised his rifle and brought the stock down on Hal’s head with a crash. The lad toppled over.
When he again became conscious of what was going on about him, he still lay on the hard and damp ground. Above him stood a grinning guard. Hal felt a pain in his head and passed a hand over the spot. When he withdrew it, it was covered with blood.
“Get up!” commanded the German guard.
Hal realized the necessity of immediate compliance and staggered to his feet.
“Get your pick!” commanded the guard.
Hal obeyed.
“Now get back to work!”
There was no help for it, and in spite of his weakness Hal wielded his pick with the others.
At his right, Hal saw that Harding, with several ugly wounds in his head, also was back at work. The man smiled slightly as he caught Hal’s eye.
“You see, you started something we all couldn’t finish,” he said in a low voice. “These Germans have discovered the way of putting down a mutiny, as you have learned. Of course the time may come when we shall catch them unprepared, but it hasn’t come yet, so lie low. Hello,” he added, “your friend is coming to his senses. If he’s wise he’ll get up and work till he drops.”
Chester, under the command of the guard who stood close to him, got to his feet and fell to work close to Hal. The lad’s face was very pale and he seemed in imminent danger of collapsing at any moment.
“Can you stick it out, Chester?” asked Hal in a low voice.
“I don’t know,” was his chum’s reply. “I feel pretty faint.”
“Silence, there!” thundered the nearest guard. “Work; don’t talk.”
The prisoners worked on in silence. Each stroke that Chester took he felt sure would be his last. But he gritted his teeth and stuck to it, and some way he always found the strength for one more blow.
Harding nodded approvingly.
“They’ll do,” he muttered.
Strange as it may seem, after another half hour’s work Hal felt his strength returning to him. It took less effort to wield his pick. The lad was hungry and he felt an uncomfortable gnawing within, but the dizziness had left him.
Chester also began to feel better. The faintness left and color returned to his cheeks.
“Six months of this work,” he whispered to Hal, “and I’ll be able to lick your marine friend, Bowers, without exerting myself.”
Hal smiled slightly, but he drew a breath of relief. When Chester talked like that he was not badly hurt.
“What time do we quit?” Hal asked of Harding in a low voice.
“Usually about two o’clock,” was the reply.
“What! Don’t we knock off to eat?”
Harding allowed a wry smile to steal over his face.
“We do not,” he replied. “And the chances are that as a result of the trouble here we won’t eat at all to-day.”
Hal gazed at him in pure alarm.
“Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “You don’t mean to tell me they will starve us.”
“Not quite,” was the Englishman’s reply, “but I’ve gone three or four days at a time without a morsel.”
“But a man can’t work unless he eats,” declared Hal.
“Maybe not; but the Germans are not worrying about that. If we want to eat we’ve got to work and make no trouble. That’s all there is about it. Let me tell you something. I’ve seen at least twenty men carried out of here and they are not living now. They were simply starved to death. These Germans will go the limit. Don’t make any mistake about that.”
Hal turned this over in his mind.
“Well,” he said to himself at last, “we’re up against it and that’s all there is about it. I am afraid General Pershing would have done better had he entrusted his mission to other hands. We seem to have made a mess of it.”
He turned to Chester.
“Say,” he demanded in a soft voice, “what do you suppose General Pershing would think if he could see us now?”
Chester grinned despite his wounds.
“I guess he’d think we are a pair of confounded poor spies,” he declared.