CHAPTER VIDEATH CLOSE BEHIND"Cut for the passage!" cried Porky as he realized that his quarry had escaped and knew that her release meant fresh dangers for them. Instinctively he held on to the bundle in his hands, and with Beany at his heels raced through the door and up the narrow passage that led to the secret door in the panel.They found it closed tight. Furiously the boys shook and tugged at the heavy handle which was wont to turn and release the sliding panel. It did not budge. They shook and banged."It's no good," said Porky finally, as they paused, gasping and out of breath. "We are trapped!""Some one will hear us if we bang long enough," said Beany, kicking at the secret door."Not so you would know it," said his brother bitterly. "You can't hear a sound. That paneling is six inches thick along here. Made so on purpose, I suppose. We had better go down and try to get out by the passage that leads into the garden."They turned and hurried back, retracing their steps through the passage and the two underground rooms. As Beany passed the great sword, he dragged it from its upright position in the floor and took it with him."I guess this belongs to me as much as to any one," he said grimly. "I'll take it home to Pop."As he, spoke, the candles on the table shook in a sudden draft and went out."That's about the last straw!" said Porky, falling over a chair."Gimme your hand!" said Beany. "I know where the passage is and it is short, because I counted the number of steps they took before I heard the outside door open and smelled the outside air. I know it opens into the castle garden because I heard them talking about going out that way. Oh, I have a long story to tell you, Porky, but it will have to wait until we are well out of this. I don't feel any too happy yet."He clasped his brother's hand in his with a sudden close pressure. Porky returned it, and laid an affectionate arm around his brother's shoulder as together they went cautiously toward the passage leading to the garden.They found it easily; Beany had used his eyes to good advantage. Feeling carefully as they went, they reached the end where a massive, rough door barred their way.Porky drew a box of safety matches from his pocket, and by their feeble light they examined the heavy barrier. There was no sign of a latch or keyhole, but the door was securely fastened on the other side.They were trapped!"Well, what do you know about that!" muttered Beany, scowling. He felt slowly along the crack of the closely set door and pressed the barred surface, but it did not give under his touch.Porky flipped a match out of his fingers as it burned him, and the boys stood motionless in the darkness, wondering what to do next. Beany leaned on the hilt of the long sword; Porky traced figure eights on the wall beside him with the tip or the scorched finger that had held the match.Beany leaned over and tapped his shoulder."What's the noise back there?" he whispered."Didn't hear anything," answered Porky after a breathless pause of listening."I certainly heard something," declared Beany. "Let's pussyfoot back and see if we can find out what it was. IknowI heard something. Perhaps our dear friend the old dame is somewhere around.""There was nothing for her to hide in or behind," said Porky. "The bed was the only piece of furniture large enough and, besides, I feel sure she skipped out the other passage. What would she come back for? She must have known that we were here.""There is mighty little shedoesn'tknow if any one should ask you," answered Beany. "Oh, just wait until I have a chance to tell you the whole yarn! Only it is not finished yet. There were a couple of prisoners in the room I was in, a young fellow in uniform and a girl. They must have carried them into the garden when they turned my chair around so I could look toward the way you came in. I heard them scuffling about.""Well, let's go take a look," said Porky.They silently retraced their steps back to the great chamber where the bed stood. Carefully, with their backs to the wall, they lighted a couple of candles they had taken from the table. The room was empty, but with the keen trained sensitiveness of young animals, they sensed danger."I bet it is the bed," said Porky as though answering a question. "Let's look it over."Beany, holding the candles, stood by as Porky carefully removed the tumbled and tattered fragments which had once been satin and down coverlets fit for queens to dream under. He cautiously lifted the top feather bed in his arms and laid it on the floor. Beany gave a gasp and, reaching forward, almost flung himself on a black object which rolled down into a depression in the under bed. He fumbled with it, then stood erect, his face glistening with a cold sweat. He pointed to the object in silence.Porky stooped over it. It was a time bomb, large enough and vicious enough to wreck the entire wing."That's funny," said Porky. "You turned the trick that time but it does seem they are taking a lot of bother just to get rid of us.""Why, you're crazy!" said Beany. "What's over this room? The General's office, of course! That was the trick. They had us in here, and after she got away, the old woman came back and set that thing where she thought we would never think to look for it. I think she heard us in the passage that goes to the garden, and thought we would stay there fussing with that outside door. If this thing went off, of course it would wreck this room, and even if we were not killed by falling stones, we would be trapped in there like a couple of rats. Well, it will never harm any one now, but we have got to get out of here somehow or other."Both boys were unnerved and shaken They stood looking at each other. They knew that it must be very late, but overhead they could hear the muffled tramp of booted feet in the General's office. They stood gazing at the oak paneled ceiling. A big square directly over the high bed was sagging, and it was there that they could hear the sounds from above. Porky commenced to study the situation.The bed was a four poster, hundreds of years old. When the castle had been shelled, it had been brought down from some upper room of state.The high, massive posts, beautifully carved, supported a great roof of heavily carved black oak."Look here," said Porky. "Can't we shin up on top and beat on the floor with the hilt of that sword?""What good would that do?" demanded Beany. "They wouldn't know where to find us. I don't believe we could make enough racket anyhow so they would pay any attention to it."Porky thought a moment, then to Beany's disgust he commenced to caper around in a manner that Beany thought little befitted their serious position. He knew that when the explosion failed to occur, some one would be sent back by the master spy, and Beany could not doubt that that would mean a quick death for them both."What ails you?" he demanded."Just this," said Porky. "We will rap out a call for help in the code—the Morse code. Half the fellows in that office understand it. If there is any one there at all, they will catch on.""Honest, Porky—" said Beany, then he stopped. He certainly was proud of Porky but decided not to tell him so.Porky chuckled. He knew what his brother was thinking. "Some little nut, eh?" he asked, patting his own head."Tell better after you have tried it," growled Beany, shinning up the post nearest him. Porky started after him."Wait!" said Beany. "We will have to have a chair. You can't reach high enough."It was difficult to get one of the massive carved chairs aloft. They had to tear the bedding into ropes and pull it up in that way; but once on the top, Porky shinned hastily up and mounted it. He was rather quicker at telegraphy than Beany.He wrapped his handkerchief around the blade of the long sword, so he could grasp it, and beat heavily on the paneled ceiling. Then he shook his head."Listen to that!" he complained. "That loose panel will have to come down. You couldn't hear that little clack a foot away. Steady me."He handed the sword to Beany and, springing up, clutched the loose sagging edge of woodwork in his lean, muscular hands. It sprung up and down under his weight, but did not give."Grab my feet and pull!" he ordered over his shoulder.Beany obeyed.There was a sharp tussle but the old, centuries old wood was not proof against the fresh young strength measured against it. It suddenly gave way and a couple of yards fell with a clatter and cloud of dust, hurling the boys flat on the top of the bed canopy, which swayed in an alarming manner.They shoved the paneling over the edge, and stood up. Once more their candles were out, but Porky lit a match and soon the little flame made a light about them. Beany kicked something with his toe."What's that?" he said."Don't know," said Porky, rubbing his hands together. "There's a couple more of them."Don't bother with that junk! Bundles of rags, I suppose. We have got to get out of here. You don't know what those spies will be up to next."But Beany, always curious, ripped a hole in the side of the rough, pouch in his hand."It's full of gold money," he said."My word!" said Porky, looking down from the chair. "Scoop 'em all into your pockets, for the love of Mike!""Pockets!" said Beany scornfully. "There's a couple ofquartsof stuff in these three bags!"He slipped out of his blouse and, tying the sleeves together, made a sort of bag in which he carefully placed the sacks. Then he stepped carefully across their swaying platform and steadied the chair on which his brother stood with the sword hilt thrust between the huge rafters against the floor above.The tramping in the room overhead sounded quite clear now that the paneling was gone. It annoyed Porky, who was trying the best he knew to make his pounding heard."Why don't the geezers sit down?" he complained. And as though in answer, there was a sudden silence above."It won't be so funny if they have all gone away," said Beany, listening intently."You bet it won't!" said Porky, beating still harder."They are all there," said Beany. "If they had gone out, we would have heard the steps all turning in the direction of the door, which is over there behind you.""Well, here goes!" said Porky, pausing a moment to rest. "I am going to give the wireless call for help."Then while both boys almost stopped breathing, Porky slowly and distinctly tapped out the thrilling summons that turns great ships out of their courses to race across leagues of angry sea to help the perishing."S.O.S! S.O.S!" Over and over, carefully, slowly Porky rapped, pausing now and then to listen."No go!" said Beany despondently."Wait," whispered Porky; "they are stirring up there."Once more he rapped out his message, and gave a groan of relief as faintly but distinctly a spurred heel on the floor above beat the answer:"We hear. Where are you? Who speaks?"As rapidly as he dared Porky, who was an expert in the code, explained their position, gave the necessary directions for opening the secret door in the panel, received an "All right!" from above, and the boys, leaving the chair standing in its lofty position, slid down the bed post, Beany still clinging stubbornly to the sword.As they stood for a moment beside the great bed, a gust of fresh air entered the room."The garden door!" Beany hissed in his brother's ear. "They are coming! Run for it!"The boys turned and raced for the passage leading to the upper hall. As they ran Porky stumbled against a chair. It went over with a crash. They turned as they hurried through the door leading into the passage.Behind them, just perceptible to their eyes now accustomed to the darkness, three forms came running in relentless pursuit. One form reached them just as they turned into the passage. Beany paused in his flight and blindly hurled the heavy sword full at his pursuer, then slammed the door and followed Porky, now several yards ahead of him. Death was close behind.CHAPTER VIITHE IRON BOXThere was no need for silence now. The boys heard a stumble as though someone had crashed over some obstruction. The door behind them was flung open. Swift feet pursued them."Hope the door's open!" gasped Porky, as he ran fleetly on up the uneven, winding passage.In the office above there had been an anxious period. Two members of a staff, even though they are only boys, cannot disappear as though the earth had swallowed them without a suspicion of foul play. When General Pershing received the report, he at once sent couriers and scouts to every station where the boys might have gone. On being questioned, the sentries one and all declared that the two boys had not been seen outside of the building. This resulted in a combing out of every cranny that could possibly hold a boy alive or dead.The hours dragged on. There was a continual passing to and fro for hours until at last there seemed to be absolutely nothing more to do until morning. The tired staff threw themselves into the office chairs, while the General, at the typewriter, commenced a letter. Out of respect to him, there was a complete silence in the room.On and on clicked the typewriter while the waiting men dozed or smoked or thought of home."What's that?" said one of them suddenly, listening intently.The General stopped writing and looked at the speaker."What's what?" questioned a captain, frowning."That tapping," said the first speaker. "Sounds likecode.""You have been asleep," said the captain, grinning."I hear it," said the General.There was a general gathering up of forces, as the whole room tried to place the faint, monotonous tapping."The call for help!" said the first speaker triumphantly. "IknewI heard it. The code is my native language almost. It sounds as though some one was calling from below the floor.""Send an answer, Lieutenant Reed!" ordered the General.The young officer obeyed, while his hearers listened breathlessly. Tap-tap went the spurred heel, dash and dot, dash and dot in many combinations.The reply followed swiftly. The Lieutenant, rather pale, turned to the General. "It's the boys!" he reported. "They are together, in a closed chamber,—a dungeon, I take it—right below us. They are in danger. Don't say what. Something about spies and dynamite. Want help instantly.""How?" asked the General"There's a secret door in the oak panel in the hall. They gave directions for opening it.""Go at once, six of you—you six nearest the door!" The officers designated rose."Rush!" said Lieutenant Reed crisply. For the moment he was in command. He alone knew how to open the panel. They hurried outside, where Reed felt swiftly but carefully in the place described by Porky. Twice he went over the heavy carving, pushing here and there unavailingly. Then without a sound the secret door opened and before any one could enter the passage that yawned in inky blackness before them, there was a rush of running feet and the two boys, carrying Beany's coat between them, bolted into the hall. Porky made a motion for silence, and listened.There was no sound."Somebody chased us!" he panted. "Somebody was close behind us in the dark!""Men?" asked an officer in an excited whisper.Porky wanted to say "No, sir,rabbits!" but he knew that every one felt nervous and edgy and, besides, he did not want to be disrespectful to the officer who had spoken."They came in through the other door," he said. "A door at the other end of the passage that is on the other side of the two big rooms down below there.""Let's go down," said one of the men, loosening his revolver."Please don't try it!" begged Beany. "We could never get down without light and then they would have the drop on us. It's no use now. Besides, they could go out of that outside door without the least trouble after they had shot us all up.""The kid is right," said Lieutenant Reed. "He knows how the land lies down there. Come up to the General, boys, and make a report. He will tell us what he wants done."Sliding the panel shut, the Lieutenant called a guard and, leaving the hallway patrolled by a couple of stalwart Americans, the group surrounding the two boys entered the office and saluted the General.General Pershing bent his serious, keen gaze on the boys, then a bright, sudden smile lighted the strong, handsome face that had grown sad and still in the troubled, anxious months at the front."Always up to something, boys," he said. "Well, your friend the Colonel warned me how it would be. Now suppose you tell me all about it."Beany with a sigh of relief lifted his blouse and deposited it on the table. It struck the surface with a clank and as he pulled the cloth away a regular flood of gold pieces covered the papers where the General had been writing."Part of the story, sir," said Beany. And then talking together, or taking turns, as the spirit moved them, the boys pieced out the account of their adventures. The part that Beany kept harking back to was the presence of the prisoners in the big room. He described carefully and accurately the appearance of the young soldier and told as well as he could about the limp, unconscious girl who had been carried out into the dark garden. Beany shuddered as he spoke."I am sure the girl was dead, sir. She laid there for hours, I guess, and she never moved at all, never batted an eyelash. And she was white.... I never saw anybody so white. It was as though all her blood had been drained out of her.""Was she wounded?" asked the General."She must have been, sir," answered Beany. "I saw blood, just a little of it running down her wrist under her sleeve. She had nice clothes on, and I had a hunch all the time that I ought to know who she was; but I couldn't tell. Wish we knew what they did with them. When it comes light, General, I can show you just where the door is. I am sure I know where it opens.""It is light now," said the General, pointing to the window. Every one looked. Sure enough, the whole sky was a mass of pale gold and pink and greenish blue, as lovely and soft and joyous as though the distant rumble of the big guns was not shaking the casement as they spoke. It was light; morning had come.The General ordered coffee and rolls and insisted on both boys eating something. They were tired and heavy eyed but excited at the thought of unraveling perhaps a little more of the mystery of the past night.When at last the General dismissed them with a few terse orders, they sped ahead of their escort through the silent garden, fearless and curious and unconscious of the careful marksmen who followed, protecting each foot of their advance.Beany had spoken the truth. With the sureness of a young hound he took his way through a wilderness of stones and bricks and beams and plaster through the tangled, torn old garden, and round to a spot marked by what seemed to be a clump of dense bushes like low growing lilacs. Approaching this, Beany parted the branches and peered in. Then he drew back with a cry of horror."Look!" he whispered.It was indeed the ambush set over the outside entrance to the dungeons. Down in the depths of the hole that yawned under the encircling bushes something was tumbled in a pitiful, distorted heap. Eagerly a half dozen men leaped down and with careful hands straightened out the two forms lying in the bloody ooze. One after the other they were lifted to the surface.The man was quite dead but the girl still lived, though breathing feebly.Placing her on an improvised stretcher, a couple of the men hurried away with her to the hospital while a couple more knelt beside the dead boy and searched carefully through his torn and blood-stained clothing for papers, letters—anything that could be used as clues to his identity. There was not a scrap left to guide them. The young officer's pockets had been turned inside out. Even the hems in his tunic and breeches had been slit and the soles had been torn from his shoes. If there had been papers of any sort secreted about him, they were gone—carried away by the ruthless hands that had slain him.Leaving a guard beside the body, the others leaped boldly into the shallow pit and lifted the heavy bar which held the massive nail-studded oaken door. It opened inward, and Beany led the way through the passage into the chamber where he had sat bound, gagged and waiting for the relentless hands of the clock to reach the moment of his doom. He showed the device, and then, lighting the stubs of candles, they went into the inner room. The dungeons were dark as midnight, even in the clear morning light.A careful search was made of the rooms. They stamped on the floors, rapped on the walls with pistol butts, ripped up the silken covers and the thick mattresses, but found nothing. The men finally stopped their search, and gathered in a group around the massive table. Beany, sitting on the edge of the table, jounced up and down and thought that he had never seen a piece of furniture quite so solid. He took out a penknife and tried to whittle the edge but the keen blade scarcely made an impression on the ironwood seasoned for ages. Porky, watching his brother, listened to the conversation."Somewhere down here there is a hiding place for papers or money, or perhaps both," said one of the officers, a keen-faced, thoughtful man, studying the room as he could see it in the flickering light of the two candles which, now burned down to the merest stubs, afforded a dim, uncertain light."We have given it a pretty thorough combing over," said another officer, frowning."I can't help it," stubbornly answered the other. "It is in just such places as this where valuable secrets are often hidden.""What about the dynamite?" demanded some one else. "It does not seem as though they would hide anything of any value to themselves in a spot that they were willing to blow up.""A bomb that size would not have wrecked this room. Did you notice the thickness of the walls?"The talk went on while Beany whittled and pried away industriously at the table edge. He found a crack in the wood and pried his knife blade into that. The blade entered in a tantalizing manner, slipped smoothly along, then struck metal. Beany pushed. Porky, who was watching, came closer and peered down the crack. Beany pushed harder, pushed as hard as he could, and suddenly felt himself flung off the table as the big top flew up and hurled him aside.Powerful springs had opened the two heavy slabs of oak that formed the table. Two pieces now stood open like a pair of doors and within lay a long, flat box which completely filled the space. The box was of iron, heavily barred and padlocked. Four soldiers pried it from its place and, escorted by the whole party, it was carried to General Pershing, still working at his desk.Once more the boys had unearthed a mystery.CHAPTER VIIITHE CELLAR'S SECRETPorky and Beany were too tired to care what happened next and, taking quick advantage of a brief smile and nod of dismissal from the General, they made their way to their quarters and soon were as sound asleep as though they were lying on the softest down. They slept and slept, losing all track of time, and by the General's orders were undisturbed. When they finally woke, really wide awake, they found that a whole day and a night had passed since the early dawn when they had staggered off to bed.They woke at the same instant, as was their habit, and sitting bolt upright, stared unblinkingly at the young officer sitting at the window writing."Morning, Lieutenant," said Porky, rubbing his eyes."What's the time, sir?" said Beany, looking curiously at his wrist watch."Yours stopped too?" asked Porky. "Mine has. Funny!""Not so very funny," said Lieutenant Parker, closing his writing tablet. "You have been asleep since yesterday morning, and I imagine the watches ran down.""Yesterday morning!" gasped Porky. "Why didn't some one call us?""General's orders," said the Lieutenant. He laughed, "Gee, I wish he would order me to bed for a week. You can bet I would go!""Well, it makes me mad to sleep like this," said Porky in irritation. "What all have we missed, anyhow?""Nothing much," said the Lieutenant. "The biggest drive of the war is on and to-morrow General Pershing with his staff will make the trip along the front line trenches. I hope he counts me in on that.""You liked to be in the trenches, didn't you?" asked Porky, stooping to lace his puttees."You are right I did," said Lieutenant Parker, wrinkling his smooth young forehead. "I came over to fight, and it was just my luck to get this measly scratch on my head, and blamed if they didn't put me here in this office doing paper work!""Well, you got to give your skull time to get well, haven't you?" asked Beany. "It was cracked, wasn't it?""No, just a piece scooped out of it," said the Lieutenant in a bored tone.The boys grinned. Lieutenant Parker was one of the best friends they had, and they had learned that nothing teased him like being quizzed about the deep, palpitating scar that creased his dark head, the truth being that he had received the wound in an encounter that had won him the coveted French war cross with the palms. Porky and Beany considered modesty in others little less than a sin. They were always so thirsty for tales of blood and glory that they could not see why any one should hesitate to tell every possible detail of any adventure. It happened, strangely enough, that they did not apply the same rule to their own conduct. To get details out of the Potter twins was, as their own father said, like drawing nails out of a green oak board, accompanied by screeches of protest. The boys had had the Lieutenant's story, however, and they harked back to the news of the day."I am going on that hike," said Porky, standing up and stamping himself comfortably into his clothes."So'm I," said his brother, likewise stamping."Try for something else, kid," said the Lieutenant. "You can't get in on this. It is strictly staff.""Watch me!" said young Porky, the cocksure. He hurried to the door and disappeared, while Beany, a trifle slower in his dressing, roared, "Wait for me!"A muttered response of some sort was the only satisfaction given.Beany grinned. "He is always so sudden!" he complained, addressing the Lieutenant."Might as well stay here until he comes back. I never like to butt in on Porky's talky-talks. He most generally knows what he wants to say, and he don't need any help in getting it out of his system. I certainly hope we can go with the General. You are always yelling about that old silver plate you have on your topknot. Look at us: seems like we just can't get into a trench. Honest Injun, I'm so sick of this old chateau—""I never did see such a pair!" said Lieutenant Parker. "Didn't you have enough of an adventure the other night to last you two or three days?"He was going on, when Porky burst into the room. He threw up his hat."Better, much better than I ever hoped," he crowed."Hand it out!" demanded Beany anxiously."Why, I was going to give the General a great line of talk, and I didn't have a chance to do a thing but salute. He was talking to a French officer and the minute he went out, the General just said, 'All right to-day, young man?' I said, 'Yes, sir,' and he said, 'No time to talk! Report in the courtyard to-morrow morning five-thirty, field equipment, for special duty with my staff.'"I saluted again and turned to come out, and the General said, 'Potter, this is in the way of a reward for that little affair in the dungeons,' and I said, 'Thank you, sir, but the pleasure was all ours, sir,' and he said, 'No, not quite all; because some of the papers you unearthedWILL HELP TO TURN THE TIDE.' How's that, old Beans,will help to turn the tide. Gosh! you did it with your little penknife, didn't you?""Well, never mind that," said Beany, wriggling. "Don't you know anything about this trip to-morrow?""Nary word," said Porky, "but why should we worry? Main fact is clear, we are going to be among those present."The boys spent a restless day getting their traveling equipment in order and taking it apart again to put it together in some way they fancied would make an eighth of an inch difference in some of its dimensions. They strutted a little perhaps. It was truly a wonderful thing to go with General Pershing on a trip of that sort. They marveled at their good luck.That good luck had hinged entirely on their ability to keep their own counsel. That desire some have to tell all they know, a lot that they guess, and a few things that they fear, did not exist in the Potter twins. They could keep a secret without being told to, and that's some test. Whatever they overheard was safe. When they saw things that were not intended for their eyes, they ignored them, or made an effort to forget all about them. This high sense of what was honorable and right was noticed immediately by the General as well as by others whom they met daily.So they spent the long day patting each other on the back, and wondering at their great good fortune.They kept closely to the rooms frequented by the officers. As Porky pointed out to his brother, there was one old lady at least who was not wasting any love on them, and they didn't want to give her a chance to turn a key on them and spoil all their fun. They had at least gained a little caution, but how very little the trip was going to show.It was barely five next morning when Porky and Beany, like two shadows, slipped from their quarters and went silently down to the courtyard. Several automobiles stood ready, heavily guarded, and a couple of mechanics were busily tightening nuts and testing various parts of the machinery. No one spoke. The boys crossed the open space, and in accordance with an agreement made previously, sat down back to back on a ledge of the broken fountain. They were taking no risks of surprise or attack from the rear. Silently the minutes passed. The steady tramp of the sentries and the grating of metal on metal as the mechanics worked quietly on the cars made so little sound that distant noises were loud and acute.The guns of the enemy had been silent for twelve hours. Even Porky and Beany sensed something big and terrible in the air."Want to bet something!" asked Porky, poking his brother with a backhand jab in the ribs.He never found out whether Beany was game to bet or not for the door of the chateau opened and a group of officers came out. General Pershing led the group. The boys leaped to salute, the sentries stopped and presented arms. Even the mechanics straightened to their feet. There was perfect quiet, however, and five minutes later they started away full speed in the darkness. On and on they went, passing first through a country which showed very little of the effects of war. It was a sort of spur that had escaped the enemy's assaults in the beginning of the struggle, and which, since the arrival of millions of Americans, had been lying too far behind the lines to suffer.The sun rose: it was day. They stopped in the shelter of a dense grove and breakfasted on the provisions put up for them by the cooks back at headquarters. While they ate the drivers of the cars watched the clear morning skies for airplanes. The sandwiches and coffee, boiling hot in big thermos bottles, tasted good to the hungry boys, although they were eaten in silence, and in silence the journey was continued. Now they commenced to see signs of the frightful struggle. First great shell craters, then trees uprooted or hacked down, and village after village lying a mere mass of wreckage. There were worse things too; sad reminders that made the boys turn pale with horror.The stop for dinner was made the occasion of a careful examination of all the parts of the cars, as any accident in the next few miles might be most dangerous and disastrous. One of the aides announced to the several groups of officers that a start would not be made under two hours so the boys wandered about, looking at the ruined landscape and picking up here and there sad little mementoes of friend and foe. Buttons, scraps of jewelry, mostly cheap rings that girls might have worn and given to their departing sweethearts. There were dozens of crushed and stained pictures too, so many that the boys did not bother to pick them up after the first dozen or so. Pinned to one picture of a chubby child was a little sock. Across the back of the picture was written, "A year old to-day. My son. Wish I could see him.""Gosh," said Beany, "I sure do hope he didn't get his! Perhaps this just fell out of his pocket.""Why didn't he sign it?" demanded the practical Porky."Well, I suppose he didn't have a hunch we would want his address," said Beany. "I'm going to keep this and send it back home to one of the papers. They will be glad to copy the picture of the fat little geezer, and p'raps it will get back to his folks."The boys wandered on. Coming from a country rich in magnificent old maples and elms, the ruin, so cowardly and so ruthless, of the great trees seemed one of the most terrible aspects of the war. Not only were they torn by shells, but mile after mile stood dead and dying from the effects of the gas attacks of the enemy. The gas seemed to be as fatal to the trees as it was to human beings. Not only had the leaves curled up and fallen, but the trunks themselves were blackened and dead looking. It was like a country in a nightmare, everything in the way of buildings flat on the ground, literally not one stone left on another. The dead and dying trees, leafless and twisted, let the sunshine down upon it all with scarce a shadow.The boys reached the site of what had evidently once been a fine farm. It was a total ruin. They went clambering over the loose heaped-up stones of what had once been a fine old dwelling, and sat down for a moment on a flat block that had made the broad and generous doorstep."Gee, this must have been an old place," said Porky. "See the way the edge of this stone is worn—and it is granite at that.""Look at the size of it, too," said Beany.They sat studying the stone when a faint feeble wail was heard. They looked at each other, startled."Aw, gee, there's a kitten shut up some place," said Beany, jumping up. "Let's find it.""Sure we will," said Porky, "but we can't take it along. I don't suppose General Pershing would want to add a cat to his traveling party.""It sounded most dead," said Porky. "Kitty, kitty! Here, kitty," he called in his most persuasive, voice.Another little cry answered him and gave them the direction. "It's the cellar," said both boys together, and with one accord they seized a couple of stout timbers and commenced to pry away part of the wreckage in what seemed the likeliest entrance to the pitch black: hollow under the bent and broken floor timbers, on which still rested masses of stone.Suddenly, in response to their efforts, a huge stone, mate to the one they had been sitting on, tipped sidewise and slowly slid down into the darkness, followed by a shaft of light.There was a sharp cry from below, and the boys looked at each other, a sort of horror on each face."That's no kitten!" gasped Beany.For answer Porky slid feet first in the wake of the big stone, landed on it, and stepped off into a gloomy chamber now feebly lighted from above. In a moment his eyes were accustomed to the dim light, and he stepped aside, making way for Beany, who came helter-skeltering down behind him.What they saw was a room that had been used as a store-room for the farmhouse. By some trick of fate the falling walls, while they had made a tight prison of it, had spared the most of the shelves of provisions, and rows of preserves and tins of fruit still stood safely in their places.A thin, emaciated figure lay in the corner on a pile of dirt over which a cloak had been spread. The sunken eyes fixed themselves on the two boys, but there was no recognition in their glassy depths. What looked like two little piles of rags were huddled close, and as the boys came nearer, the dying woman, for it was a woman and she was close to death, clutched them convulsively. The bundles stirred, and a couple of small heads were raised. Two children, tousled and covered with dirt, lifted frightened eyes and clung frantically to the prostrate figure.Porky crossed swiftly and dropped on his knees by the dying woman. Very gently he slipped an arm under her heavy head and lifted her a little on his strong young arm."Get a move on!" he flung at Beany, and that young man scrambled up the pile of debris where the big stone had fallen and instantly disappeared. Porky, left alone with the woman and the two terrified children, who tried frantically to burrow out of sight under the mother's nerveless arm, could think of nothing better to do than clasp the woman closely to him in an effort to give her some of his own heat and vitality. She seemed already stone cold.Almost at once Beany returned with some of the officers. They came down and with tender hands lifted the sufferer out of the chilly dampness of the cellar, and laid her on a pile of coats and cushions. Some one carefully fed her a few drops of the hot coffee still left in the thermos bottles. It was very evident, however, that her moments were numbered.One of the French officers in the party knelt beside her. Softly, tenderly, pityingly, he spoke to her in her native tongue.The weary eyes opened, and rested on his face.
CHAPTER VI
DEATH CLOSE BEHIND
"Cut for the passage!" cried Porky as he realized that his quarry had escaped and knew that her release meant fresh dangers for them. Instinctively he held on to the bundle in his hands, and with Beany at his heels raced through the door and up the narrow passage that led to the secret door in the panel.
They found it closed tight. Furiously the boys shook and tugged at the heavy handle which was wont to turn and release the sliding panel. It did not budge. They shook and banged.
"It's no good," said Porky finally, as they paused, gasping and out of breath. "We are trapped!"
"Some one will hear us if we bang long enough," said Beany, kicking at the secret door.
"Not so you would know it," said his brother bitterly. "You can't hear a sound. That paneling is six inches thick along here. Made so on purpose, I suppose. We had better go down and try to get out by the passage that leads into the garden."
They turned and hurried back, retracing their steps through the passage and the two underground rooms. As Beany passed the great sword, he dragged it from its upright position in the floor and took it with him.
"I guess this belongs to me as much as to any one," he said grimly. "I'll take it home to Pop."
As he, spoke, the candles on the table shook in a sudden draft and went out.
"That's about the last straw!" said Porky, falling over a chair.
"Gimme your hand!" said Beany. "I know where the passage is and it is short, because I counted the number of steps they took before I heard the outside door open and smelled the outside air. I know it opens into the castle garden because I heard them talking about going out that way. Oh, I have a long story to tell you, Porky, but it will have to wait until we are well out of this. I don't feel any too happy yet."
He clasped his brother's hand in his with a sudden close pressure. Porky returned it, and laid an affectionate arm around his brother's shoulder as together they went cautiously toward the passage leading to the garden.
They found it easily; Beany had used his eyes to good advantage. Feeling carefully as they went, they reached the end where a massive, rough door barred their way.
Porky drew a box of safety matches from his pocket, and by their feeble light they examined the heavy barrier. There was no sign of a latch or keyhole, but the door was securely fastened on the other side.
They were trapped!
"Well, what do you know about that!" muttered Beany, scowling. He felt slowly along the crack of the closely set door and pressed the barred surface, but it did not give under his touch.
Porky flipped a match out of his fingers as it burned him, and the boys stood motionless in the darkness, wondering what to do next. Beany leaned on the hilt of the long sword; Porky traced figure eights on the wall beside him with the tip or the scorched finger that had held the match.
Beany leaned over and tapped his shoulder.
"What's the noise back there?" he whispered.
"Didn't hear anything," answered Porky after a breathless pause of listening.
"I certainly heard something," declared Beany. "Let's pussyfoot back and see if we can find out what it was. IknowI heard something. Perhaps our dear friend the old dame is somewhere around."
"There was nothing for her to hide in or behind," said Porky. "The bed was the only piece of furniture large enough and, besides, I feel sure she skipped out the other passage. What would she come back for? She must have known that we were here."
"There is mighty little shedoesn'tknow if any one should ask you," answered Beany. "Oh, just wait until I have a chance to tell you the whole yarn! Only it is not finished yet. There were a couple of prisoners in the room I was in, a young fellow in uniform and a girl. They must have carried them into the garden when they turned my chair around so I could look toward the way you came in. I heard them scuffling about."
"Well, let's go take a look," said Porky.
They silently retraced their steps back to the great chamber where the bed stood. Carefully, with their backs to the wall, they lighted a couple of candles they had taken from the table. The room was empty, but with the keen trained sensitiveness of young animals, they sensed danger.
"I bet it is the bed," said Porky as though answering a question. "Let's look it over."
Beany, holding the candles, stood by as Porky carefully removed the tumbled and tattered fragments which had once been satin and down coverlets fit for queens to dream under. He cautiously lifted the top feather bed in his arms and laid it on the floor. Beany gave a gasp and, reaching forward, almost flung himself on a black object which rolled down into a depression in the under bed. He fumbled with it, then stood erect, his face glistening with a cold sweat. He pointed to the object in silence.
Porky stooped over it. It was a time bomb, large enough and vicious enough to wreck the entire wing.
"That's funny," said Porky. "You turned the trick that time but it does seem they are taking a lot of bother just to get rid of us."
"Why, you're crazy!" said Beany. "What's over this room? The General's office, of course! That was the trick. They had us in here, and after she got away, the old woman came back and set that thing where she thought we would never think to look for it. I think she heard us in the passage that goes to the garden, and thought we would stay there fussing with that outside door. If this thing went off, of course it would wreck this room, and even if we were not killed by falling stones, we would be trapped in there like a couple of rats. Well, it will never harm any one now, but we have got to get out of here somehow or other."
Both boys were unnerved and shaken They stood looking at each other. They knew that it must be very late, but overhead they could hear the muffled tramp of booted feet in the General's office. They stood gazing at the oak paneled ceiling. A big square directly over the high bed was sagging, and it was there that they could hear the sounds from above. Porky commenced to study the situation.
The bed was a four poster, hundreds of years old. When the castle had been shelled, it had been brought down from some upper room of state.
The high, massive posts, beautifully carved, supported a great roof of heavily carved black oak.
"Look here," said Porky. "Can't we shin up on top and beat on the floor with the hilt of that sword?"
"What good would that do?" demanded Beany. "They wouldn't know where to find us. I don't believe we could make enough racket anyhow so they would pay any attention to it."
Porky thought a moment, then to Beany's disgust he commenced to caper around in a manner that Beany thought little befitted their serious position. He knew that when the explosion failed to occur, some one would be sent back by the master spy, and Beany could not doubt that that would mean a quick death for them both.
"What ails you?" he demanded.
"Just this," said Porky. "We will rap out a call for help in the code—the Morse code. Half the fellows in that office understand it. If there is any one there at all, they will catch on."
"Honest, Porky—" said Beany, then he stopped. He certainly was proud of Porky but decided not to tell him so.
Porky chuckled. He knew what his brother was thinking. "Some little nut, eh?" he asked, patting his own head.
"Tell better after you have tried it," growled Beany, shinning up the post nearest him. Porky started after him.
"Wait!" said Beany. "We will have to have a chair. You can't reach high enough."
It was difficult to get one of the massive carved chairs aloft. They had to tear the bedding into ropes and pull it up in that way; but once on the top, Porky shinned hastily up and mounted it. He was rather quicker at telegraphy than Beany.
He wrapped his handkerchief around the blade of the long sword, so he could grasp it, and beat heavily on the paneled ceiling. Then he shook his head.
"Listen to that!" he complained. "That loose panel will have to come down. You couldn't hear that little clack a foot away. Steady me."
He handed the sword to Beany and, springing up, clutched the loose sagging edge of woodwork in his lean, muscular hands. It sprung up and down under his weight, but did not give.
"Grab my feet and pull!" he ordered over his shoulder.
Beany obeyed.
There was a sharp tussle but the old, centuries old wood was not proof against the fresh young strength measured against it. It suddenly gave way and a couple of yards fell with a clatter and cloud of dust, hurling the boys flat on the top of the bed canopy, which swayed in an alarming manner.
They shoved the paneling over the edge, and stood up. Once more their candles were out, but Porky lit a match and soon the little flame made a light about them. Beany kicked something with his toe.
"What's that?" he said.
"Don't know," said Porky, rubbing his hands together. "There's a couple more of them.
"Don't bother with that junk! Bundles of rags, I suppose. We have got to get out of here. You don't know what those spies will be up to next."
But Beany, always curious, ripped a hole in the side of the rough, pouch in his hand.
"It's full of gold money," he said.
"My word!" said Porky, looking down from the chair. "Scoop 'em all into your pockets, for the love of Mike!"
"Pockets!" said Beany scornfully. "There's a couple ofquartsof stuff in these three bags!"
He slipped out of his blouse and, tying the sleeves together, made a sort of bag in which he carefully placed the sacks. Then he stepped carefully across their swaying platform and steadied the chair on which his brother stood with the sword hilt thrust between the huge rafters against the floor above.
The tramping in the room overhead sounded quite clear now that the paneling was gone. It annoyed Porky, who was trying the best he knew to make his pounding heard.
"Why don't the geezers sit down?" he complained. And as though in answer, there was a sudden silence above.
"It won't be so funny if they have all gone away," said Beany, listening intently.
"You bet it won't!" said Porky, beating still harder.
"They are all there," said Beany. "If they had gone out, we would have heard the steps all turning in the direction of the door, which is over there behind you."
"Well, here goes!" said Porky, pausing a moment to rest. "I am going to give the wireless call for help."
Then while both boys almost stopped breathing, Porky slowly and distinctly tapped out the thrilling summons that turns great ships out of their courses to race across leagues of angry sea to help the perishing.
"S.O.S! S.O.S!" Over and over, carefully, slowly Porky rapped, pausing now and then to listen.
"No go!" said Beany despondently.
"Wait," whispered Porky; "they are stirring up there."
Once more he rapped out his message, and gave a groan of relief as faintly but distinctly a spurred heel on the floor above beat the answer:
"We hear. Where are you? Who speaks?"
As rapidly as he dared Porky, who was an expert in the code, explained their position, gave the necessary directions for opening the secret door in the panel, received an "All right!" from above, and the boys, leaving the chair standing in its lofty position, slid down the bed post, Beany still clinging stubbornly to the sword.
As they stood for a moment beside the great bed, a gust of fresh air entered the room.
"The garden door!" Beany hissed in his brother's ear. "They are coming! Run for it!"
The boys turned and raced for the passage leading to the upper hall. As they ran Porky stumbled against a chair. It went over with a crash. They turned as they hurried through the door leading into the passage.
Behind them, just perceptible to their eyes now accustomed to the darkness, three forms came running in relentless pursuit. One form reached them just as they turned into the passage. Beany paused in his flight and blindly hurled the heavy sword full at his pursuer, then slammed the door and followed Porky, now several yards ahead of him. Death was close behind.
CHAPTER VII
THE IRON BOX
There was no need for silence now. The boys heard a stumble as though someone had crashed over some obstruction. The door behind them was flung open. Swift feet pursued them.
"Hope the door's open!" gasped Porky, as he ran fleetly on up the uneven, winding passage.
In the office above there had been an anxious period. Two members of a staff, even though they are only boys, cannot disappear as though the earth had swallowed them without a suspicion of foul play. When General Pershing received the report, he at once sent couriers and scouts to every station where the boys might have gone. On being questioned, the sentries one and all declared that the two boys had not been seen outside of the building. This resulted in a combing out of every cranny that could possibly hold a boy alive or dead.
The hours dragged on. There was a continual passing to and fro for hours until at last there seemed to be absolutely nothing more to do until morning. The tired staff threw themselves into the office chairs, while the General, at the typewriter, commenced a letter. Out of respect to him, there was a complete silence in the room.
On and on clicked the typewriter while the waiting men dozed or smoked or thought of home.
"What's that?" said one of them suddenly, listening intently.
The General stopped writing and looked at the speaker.
"What's what?" questioned a captain, frowning.
"That tapping," said the first speaker. "Sounds likecode."
"You have been asleep," said the captain, grinning.
"I hear it," said the General.
There was a general gathering up of forces, as the whole room tried to place the faint, monotonous tapping.
"The call for help!" said the first speaker triumphantly. "IknewI heard it. The code is my native language almost. It sounds as though some one was calling from below the floor."
"Send an answer, Lieutenant Reed!" ordered the General.
The young officer obeyed, while his hearers listened breathlessly. Tap-tap went the spurred heel, dash and dot, dash and dot in many combinations.
The reply followed swiftly. The Lieutenant, rather pale, turned to the General. "It's the boys!" he reported. "They are together, in a closed chamber,—a dungeon, I take it—right below us. They are in danger. Don't say what. Something about spies and dynamite. Want help instantly."
"How?" asked the General
"There's a secret door in the oak panel in the hall. They gave directions for opening it."
"Go at once, six of you—you six nearest the door!" The officers designated rose.
"Rush!" said Lieutenant Reed crisply. For the moment he was in command. He alone knew how to open the panel. They hurried outside, where Reed felt swiftly but carefully in the place described by Porky. Twice he went over the heavy carving, pushing here and there unavailingly. Then without a sound the secret door opened and before any one could enter the passage that yawned in inky blackness before them, there was a rush of running feet and the two boys, carrying Beany's coat between them, bolted into the hall. Porky made a motion for silence, and listened.
There was no sound.
"Somebody chased us!" he panted. "Somebody was close behind us in the dark!"
"Men?" asked an officer in an excited whisper.
Porky wanted to say "No, sir,rabbits!" but he knew that every one felt nervous and edgy and, besides, he did not want to be disrespectful to the officer who had spoken.
"They came in through the other door," he said. "A door at the other end of the passage that is on the other side of the two big rooms down below there."
"Let's go down," said one of the men, loosening his revolver.
"Please don't try it!" begged Beany. "We could never get down without light and then they would have the drop on us. It's no use now. Besides, they could go out of that outside door without the least trouble after they had shot us all up."
"The kid is right," said Lieutenant Reed. "He knows how the land lies down there. Come up to the General, boys, and make a report. He will tell us what he wants done."
Sliding the panel shut, the Lieutenant called a guard and, leaving the hallway patrolled by a couple of stalwart Americans, the group surrounding the two boys entered the office and saluted the General.
General Pershing bent his serious, keen gaze on the boys, then a bright, sudden smile lighted the strong, handsome face that had grown sad and still in the troubled, anxious months at the front.
"Always up to something, boys," he said. "Well, your friend the Colonel warned me how it would be. Now suppose you tell me all about it."
Beany with a sigh of relief lifted his blouse and deposited it on the table. It struck the surface with a clank and as he pulled the cloth away a regular flood of gold pieces covered the papers where the General had been writing.
"Part of the story, sir," said Beany. And then talking together, or taking turns, as the spirit moved them, the boys pieced out the account of their adventures. The part that Beany kept harking back to was the presence of the prisoners in the big room. He described carefully and accurately the appearance of the young soldier and told as well as he could about the limp, unconscious girl who had been carried out into the dark garden. Beany shuddered as he spoke.
"I am sure the girl was dead, sir. She laid there for hours, I guess, and she never moved at all, never batted an eyelash. And she was white.... I never saw anybody so white. It was as though all her blood had been drained out of her."
"Was she wounded?" asked the General.
"She must have been, sir," answered Beany. "I saw blood, just a little of it running down her wrist under her sleeve. She had nice clothes on, and I had a hunch all the time that I ought to know who she was; but I couldn't tell. Wish we knew what they did with them. When it comes light, General, I can show you just where the door is. I am sure I know where it opens."
"It is light now," said the General, pointing to the window. Every one looked. Sure enough, the whole sky was a mass of pale gold and pink and greenish blue, as lovely and soft and joyous as though the distant rumble of the big guns was not shaking the casement as they spoke. It was light; morning had come.
The General ordered coffee and rolls and insisted on both boys eating something. They were tired and heavy eyed but excited at the thought of unraveling perhaps a little more of the mystery of the past night.
When at last the General dismissed them with a few terse orders, they sped ahead of their escort through the silent garden, fearless and curious and unconscious of the careful marksmen who followed, protecting each foot of their advance.
Beany had spoken the truth. With the sureness of a young hound he took his way through a wilderness of stones and bricks and beams and plaster through the tangled, torn old garden, and round to a spot marked by what seemed to be a clump of dense bushes like low growing lilacs. Approaching this, Beany parted the branches and peered in. Then he drew back with a cry of horror.
"Look!" he whispered.
It was indeed the ambush set over the outside entrance to the dungeons. Down in the depths of the hole that yawned under the encircling bushes something was tumbled in a pitiful, distorted heap. Eagerly a half dozen men leaped down and with careful hands straightened out the two forms lying in the bloody ooze. One after the other they were lifted to the surface.
The man was quite dead but the girl still lived, though breathing feebly.
Placing her on an improvised stretcher, a couple of the men hurried away with her to the hospital while a couple more knelt beside the dead boy and searched carefully through his torn and blood-stained clothing for papers, letters—anything that could be used as clues to his identity. There was not a scrap left to guide them. The young officer's pockets had been turned inside out. Even the hems in his tunic and breeches had been slit and the soles had been torn from his shoes. If there had been papers of any sort secreted about him, they were gone—carried away by the ruthless hands that had slain him.
Leaving a guard beside the body, the others leaped boldly into the shallow pit and lifted the heavy bar which held the massive nail-studded oaken door. It opened inward, and Beany led the way through the passage into the chamber where he had sat bound, gagged and waiting for the relentless hands of the clock to reach the moment of his doom. He showed the device, and then, lighting the stubs of candles, they went into the inner room. The dungeons were dark as midnight, even in the clear morning light.
A careful search was made of the rooms. They stamped on the floors, rapped on the walls with pistol butts, ripped up the silken covers and the thick mattresses, but found nothing. The men finally stopped their search, and gathered in a group around the massive table. Beany, sitting on the edge of the table, jounced up and down and thought that he had never seen a piece of furniture quite so solid. He took out a penknife and tried to whittle the edge but the keen blade scarcely made an impression on the ironwood seasoned for ages. Porky, watching his brother, listened to the conversation.
"Somewhere down here there is a hiding place for papers or money, or perhaps both," said one of the officers, a keen-faced, thoughtful man, studying the room as he could see it in the flickering light of the two candles which, now burned down to the merest stubs, afforded a dim, uncertain light.
"We have given it a pretty thorough combing over," said another officer, frowning.
"I can't help it," stubbornly answered the other. "It is in just such places as this where valuable secrets are often hidden."
"What about the dynamite?" demanded some one else. "It does not seem as though they would hide anything of any value to themselves in a spot that they were willing to blow up."
"A bomb that size would not have wrecked this room. Did you notice the thickness of the walls?"
The talk went on while Beany whittled and pried away industriously at the table edge. He found a crack in the wood and pried his knife blade into that. The blade entered in a tantalizing manner, slipped smoothly along, then struck metal. Beany pushed. Porky, who was watching, came closer and peered down the crack. Beany pushed harder, pushed as hard as he could, and suddenly felt himself flung off the table as the big top flew up and hurled him aside.
Powerful springs had opened the two heavy slabs of oak that formed the table. Two pieces now stood open like a pair of doors and within lay a long, flat box which completely filled the space. The box was of iron, heavily barred and padlocked. Four soldiers pried it from its place and, escorted by the whole party, it was carried to General Pershing, still working at his desk.
Once more the boys had unearthed a mystery.
CHAPTER VIII
THE CELLAR'S SECRET
Porky and Beany were too tired to care what happened next and, taking quick advantage of a brief smile and nod of dismissal from the General, they made their way to their quarters and soon were as sound asleep as though they were lying on the softest down. They slept and slept, losing all track of time, and by the General's orders were undisturbed. When they finally woke, really wide awake, they found that a whole day and a night had passed since the early dawn when they had staggered off to bed.
They woke at the same instant, as was their habit, and sitting bolt upright, stared unblinkingly at the young officer sitting at the window writing.
"Morning, Lieutenant," said Porky, rubbing his eyes.
"What's the time, sir?" said Beany, looking curiously at his wrist watch.
"Yours stopped too?" asked Porky. "Mine has. Funny!"
"Not so very funny," said Lieutenant Parker, closing his writing tablet. "You have been asleep since yesterday morning, and I imagine the watches ran down."
"Yesterday morning!" gasped Porky. "Why didn't some one call us?"
"General's orders," said the Lieutenant. He laughed, "Gee, I wish he would order me to bed for a week. You can bet I would go!"
"Well, it makes me mad to sleep like this," said Porky in irritation. "What all have we missed, anyhow?"
"Nothing much," said the Lieutenant. "The biggest drive of the war is on and to-morrow General Pershing with his staff will make the trip along the front line trenches. I hope he counts me in on that."
"You liked to be in the trenches, didn't you?" asked Porky, stooping to lace his puttees.
"You are right I did," said Lieutenant Parker, wrinkling his smooth young forehead. "I came over to fight, and it was just my luck to get this measly scratch on my head, and blamed if they didn't put me here in this office doing paper work!"
"Well, you got to give your skull time to get well, haven't you?" asked Beany. "It was cracked, wasn't it?"
"No, just a piece scooped out of it," said the Lieutenant in a bored tone.
The boys grinned. Lieutenant Parker was one of the best friends they had, and they had learned that nothing teased him like being quizzed about the deep, palpitating scar that creased his dark head, the truth being that he had received the wound in an encounter that had won him the coveted French war cross with the palms. Porky and Beany considered modesty in others little less than a sin. They were always so thirsty for tales of blood and glory that they could not see why any one should hesitate to tell every possible detail of any adventure. It happened, strangely enough, that they did not apply the same rule to their own conduct. To get details out of the Potter twins was, as their own father said, like drawing nails out of a green oak board, accompanied by screeches of protest. The boys had had the Lieutenant's story, however, and they harked back to the news of the day.
"I am going on that hike," said Porky, standing up and stamping himself comfortably into his clothes.
"So'm I," said his brother, likewise stamping.
"Try for something else, kid," said the Lieutenant. "You can't get in on this. It is strictly staff."
"Watch me!" said young Porky, the cocksure. He hurried to the door and disappeared, while Beany, a trifle slower in his dressing, roared, "Wait for me!"
A muttered response of some sort was the only satisfaction given.
Beany grinned. "He is always so sudden!" he complained, addressing the Lieutenant.
"Might as well stay here until he comes back. I never like to butt in on Porky's talky-talks. He most generally knows what he wants to say, and he don't need any help in getting it out of his system. I certainly hope we can go with the General. You are always yelling about that old silver plate you have on your topknot. Look at us: seems like we just can't get into a trench. Honest Injun, I'm so sick of this old chateau—"
"I never did see such a pair!" said Lieutenant Parker. "Didn't you have enough of an adventure the other night to last you two or three days?"
He was going on, when Porky burst into the room. He threw up his hat.
"Better, much better than I ever hoped," he crowed.
"Hand it out!" demanded Beany anxiously.
"Why, I was going to give the General a great line of talk, and I didn't have a chance to do a thing but salute. He was talking to a French officer and the minute he went out, the General just said, 'All right to-day, young man?' I said, 'Yes, sir,' and he said, 'No time to talk! Report in the courtyard to-morrow morning five-thirty, field equipment, for special duty with my staff.'
"I saluted again and turned to come out, and the General said, 'Potter, this is in the way of a reward for that little affair in the dungeons,' and I said, 'Thank you, sir, but the pleasure was all ours, sir,' and he said, 'No, not quite all; because some of the papers you unearthedWILL HELP TO TURN THE TIDE.' How's that, old Beans,will help to turn the tide. Gosh! you did it with your little penknife, didn't you?"
"Well, never mind that," said Beany, wriggling. "Don't you know anything about this trip to-morrow?"
"Nary word," said Porky, "but why should we worry? Main fact is clear, we are going to be among those present."
The boys spent a restless day getting their traveling equipment in order and taking it apart again to put it together in some way they fancied would make an eighth of an inch difference in some of its dimensions. They strutted a little perhaps. It was truly a wonderful thing to go with General Pershing on a trip of that sort. They marveled at their good luck.
That good luck had hinged entirely on their ability to keep their own counsel. That desire some have to tell all they know, a lot that they guess, and a few things that they fear, did not exist in the Potter twins. They could keep a secret without being told to, and that's some test. Whatever they overheard was safe. When they saw things that were not intended for their eyes, they ignored them, or made an effort to forget all about them. This high sense of what was honorable and right was noticed immediately by the General as well as by others whom they met daily.
So they spent the long day patting each other on the back, and wondering at their great good fortune.
They kept closely to the rooms frequented by the officers. As Porky pointed out to his brother, there was one old lady at least who was not wasting any love on them, and they didn't want to give her a chance to turn a key on them and spoil all their fun. They had at least gained a little caution, but how very little the trip was going to show.
It was barely five next morning when Porky and Beany, like two shadows, slipped from their quarters and went silently down to the courtyard. Several automobiles stood ready, heavily guarded, and a couple of mechanics were busily tightening nuts and testing various parts of the machinery. No one spoke. The boys crossed the open space, and in accordance with an agreement made previously, sat down back to back on a ledge of the broken fountain. They were taking no risks of surprise or attack from the rear. Silently the minutes passed. The steady tramp of the sentries and the grating of metal on metal as the mechanics worked quietly on the cars made so little sound that distant noises were loud and acute.
The guns of the enemy had been silent for twelve hours. Even Porky and Beany sensed something big and terrible in the air.
"Want to bet something!" asked Porky, poking his brother with a backhand jab in the ribs.
He never found out whether Beany was game to bet or not for the door of the chateau opened and a group of officers came out. General Pershing led the group. The boys leaped to salute, the sentries stopped and presented arms. Even the mechanics straightened to their feet. There was perfect quiet, however, and five minutes later they started away full speed in the darkness. On and on they went, passing first through a country which showed very little of the effects of war. It was a sort of spur that had escaped the enemy's assaults in the beginning of the struggle, and which, since the arrival of millions of Americans, had been lying too far behind the lines to suffer.
The sun rose: it was day. They stopped in the shelter of a dense grove and breakfasted on the provisions put up for them by the cooks back at headquarters. While they ate the drivers of the cars watched the clear morning skies for airplanes. The sandwiches and coffee, boiling hot in big thermos bottles, tasted good to the hungry boys, although they were eaten in silence, and in silence the journey was continued. Now they commenced to see signs of the frightful struggle. First great shell craters, then trees uprooted or hacked down, and village after village lying a mere mass of wreckage. There were worse things too; sad reminders that made the boys turn pale with horror.
The stop for dinner was made the occasion of a careful examination of all the parts of the cars, as any accident in the next few miles might be most dangerous and disastrous. One of the aides announced to the several groups of officers that a start would not be made under two hours so the boys wandered about, looking at the ruined landscape and picking up here and there sad little mementoes of friend and foe. Buttons, scraps of jewelry, mostly cheap rings that girls might have worn and given to their departing sweethearts. There were dozens of crushed and stained pictures too, so many that the boys did not bother to pick them up after the first dozen or so. Pinned to one picture of a chubby child was a little sock. Across the back of the picture was written, "A year old to-day. My son. Wish I could see him."
"Gosh," said Beany, "I sure do hope he didn't get his! Perhaps this just fell out of his pocket."
"Why didn't he sign it?" demanded the practical Porky.
"Well, I suppose he didn't have a hunch we would want his address," said Beany. "I'm going to keep this and send it back home to one of the papers. They will be glad to copy the picture of the fat little geezer, and p'raps it will get back to his folks."
The boys wandered on. Coming from a country rich in magnificent old maples and elms, the ruin, so cowardly and so ruthless, of the great trees seemed one of the most terrible aspects of the war. Not only were they torn by shells, but mile after mile stood dead and dying from the effects of the gas attacks of the enemy. The gas seemed to be as fatal to the trees as it was to human beings. Not only had the leaves curled up and fallen, but the trunks themselves were blackened and dead looking. It was like a country in a nightmare, everything in the way of buildings flat on the ground, literally not one stone left on another. The dead and dying trees, leafless and twisted, let the sunshine down upon it all with scarce a shadow.
The boys reached the site of what had evidently once been a fine farm. It was a total ruin. They went clambering over the loose heaped-up stones of what had once been a fine old dwelling, and sat down for a moment on a flat block that had made the broad and generous doorstep.
"Gee, this must have been an old place," said Porky. "See the way the edge of this stone is worn—and it is granite at that."
"Look at the size of it, too," said Beany.
They sat studying the stone when a faint feeble wail was heard. They looked at each other, startled.
"Aw, gee, there's a kitten shut up some place," said Beany, jumping up. "Let's find it."
"Sure we will," said Porky, "but we can't take it along. I don't suppose General Pershing would want to add a cat to his traveling party."
"It sounded most dead," said Porky. "Kitty, kitty! Here, kitty," he called in his most persuasive, voice.
Another little cry answered him and gave them the direction. "It's the cellar," said both boys together, and with one accord they seized a couple of stout timbers and commenced to pry away part of the wreckage in what seemed the likeliest entrance to the pitch black: hollow under the bent and broken floor timbers, on which still rested masses of stone.
Suddenly, in response to their efforts, a huge stone, mate to the one they had been sitting on, tipped sidewise and slowly slid down into the darkness, followed by a shaft of light.
There was a sharp cry from below, and the boys looked at each other, a sort of horror on each face.
"That's no kitten!" gasped Beany.
For answer Porky slid feet first in the wake of the big stone, landed on it, and stepped off into a gloomy chamber now feebly lighted from above. In a moment his eyes were accustomed to the dim light, and he stepped aside, making way for Beany, who came helter-skeltering down behind him.
What they saw was a room that had been used as a store-room for the farmhouse. By some trick of fate the falling walls, while they had made a tight prison of it, had spared the most of the shelves of provisions, and rows of preserves and tins of fruit still stood safely in their places.
A thin, emaciated figure lay in the corner on a pile of dirt over which a cloak had been spread. The sunken eyes fixed themselves on the two boys, but there was no recognition in their glassy depths. What looked like two little piles of rags were huddled close, and as the boys came nearer, the dying woman, for it was a woman and she was close to death, clutched them convulsively. The bundles stirred, and a couple of small heads were raised. Two children, tousled and covered with dirt, lifted frightened eyes and clung frantically to the prostrate figure.
Porky crossed swiftly and dropped on his knees by the dying woman. Very gently he slipped an arm under her heavy head and lifted her a little on his strong young arm.
"Get a move on!" he flung at Beany, and that young man scrambled up the pile of debris where the big stone had fallen and instantly disappeared. Porky, left alone with the woman and the two terrified children, who tried frantically to burrow out of sight under the mother's nerveless arm, could think of nothing better to do than clasp the woman closely to him in an effort to give her some of his own heat and vitality. She seemed already stone cold.
Almost at once Beany returned with some of the officers. They came down and with tender hands lifted the sufferer out of the chilly dampness of the cellar, and laid her on a pile of coats and cushions. Some one carefully fed her a few drops of the hot coffee still left in the thermos bottles. It was very evident, however, that her moments were numbered.
One of the French officers in the party knelt beside her. Softly, tenderly, pityingly, he spoke to her in her native tongue.
The weary eyes opened, and rested on his face.