CHAPTER IXA VEXING PROBLEMThe boys, who had attained a good working knowledge of the French language, listened breathlessly. The gentle questions of the officer were easy to follow, but without pressing too close to the sad group they were unable to hear the whispered, broken replies of the woman. That the story was a sad one, one of the uncounted tragedies of the invasion of a cruel and heartless enemy, they could easily guess by the break in the French officer's voice and the unashamed and manly tears that filled his eyes. Slowly, painfully she told her story, the two tiny children clutching her closely the while. Fainter and fainter grew the feeble voice. Porky and Beany knew instinctively that they were standing in the presence of death; not the glorious and gallant passing that the soldier finds on the battlefield, but the coming of release from a long and undeserved agony. As the little group watched, one bloodless hand reached up and drew the thin shawl away from her breast. There was a wound there; a cruel death wound that she had stanched as best she could and had covered from the eyes of the two babies. As though her story was all ended, the pitiful eyes fixed themselves on the face of the officer who held her. Rapidly he made the sign of the cross, then with his hand held high, he spoke to the dying woman. It was enough. A smile of peace lighted the worn face, one long look she bent on the two children, and turning her head as if for protection toward the blue tunic against which she rested, she closed her eyes, sighed, and was still.Reverently laying down his burden, the officer rose to his feet. And while the group stood with bared heads, he told the story as he had just heard it.The dead woman's name was Marie Duval. For two hundred years her people had lived in simple ease and comfort on the well tilled farm.In rapid, thrilling sentences, he sketched the story of their happy, blameless lives, through Marie's innocent childhood, her girlhood, and up to the time of her meeting with young Pierre Duval. Pierre had a good farm of his own down the valley, and there they lived in simple happiness and prosperity. Three children were born, the two little creatures crouching before them and one a little older, now dead.When the war broke out, Pierre put on his uniform and went away. For a while, like other heroic women, she tilled the little farm until one night when a small scouting party of Huns swept down, burning and destroying all that lay in their path. She escaped with her children under cover of the darkness and made her way back to her father's house. For a long time they escaped the tide of war, and lived on and on from day to day, the old, old father and mother and the young mother waiting for news from Pierre. It came at last.... He was dead."Then," said the French officer, "then her heart seemed to die too, but she knew that she must live for the sake of the little ones. Already she could see that the agony and terror of it all was killing the aged parents. Four sons were fighting, and one by one they followed Pierre to death."Nearer and nearer came the German lines until one awful day a horde of heartless warriors swept over them."Sirs, you know the rest," said the French officer, his fine face twitching with emotion. "It is the same old story, the old man ruthlessly tortured and killed, his old wife kept alive just long enough to see him die. The oldest grandchild was with her. He too was tortured while his mother, hidden and imprisoned in a portion of the cellar under the smoking ruins of the farmhouse, heard his childish screams of agony."She tried frantically to free herself from the ruins. A soldier saw her, brought the fainting child almost within reach of her hand and killed him. Then with the same weapon he made a savage thrust for her heart, but could only reach close enough to inflict a deep wound. Then making sure that she could not escape from the cellar, he rode away after his troop. She became unconscious, and for days the two little children must have lived on the vegetables stored about them. When she regained consciousness she found strength to drag herself to the shelves where the family provisions were stored. All that was not spoiled she fed to the children, but they were without water save for the rainwater that dripped down upon them. She felt herself growing steadily weaker as the untended wound grew worse. The whole neighborhood seemed abandoned, and their feeble cries brought no help. The children pined, and suffering as they were from shock, soon gave way to the cold dampness and insufficient food."Marie herself lived solely through her determination not to leave the two helpless babies to their fate. She prayed that they might die first, and she was glad to note their failing strength, so fearful was she of leaving them alone to a horrible, lingering death."She herself grew so weak that much of the time she lay almost unconscious with the little ones huddled against her. She commenced to see visions. Pierre came and comforted her and promised that she should soon be free to be with him. The little martyred son clasped her in his loving little arms, assuring her that he no longer suffered. The old mother and father sat beside her and told her to be brave and patient. But with all her courage she felt that her end was near. She could not endure much longer."The French officer bowed his head."Then came deliverance," he said softly, "deliverance from all her pain and anguish. She has been released. She is with Pierre!"One of the officers stepped forward and tenderly covered the still figure with his cloak. He took the younger child in his arms, but it screamed and struggled while the other one fought off the friendly hands stretched down to it. The French officer spoke to them pleadingly, but they only stared stupidly at him."They are almost done for," said one of the officers. "We have got to get them away from here and right away." He made another effort to take the older child but the little fellow fought with the fury of a little wildcat. One after another tried in vain to get hold of the terrified little fellow, who grew more and more frightened.Porky and Beany, standing modestly in the rear of the group, watched the proceedings with growing uneasiness. Finally Porky stepped forwards, saluting as he did so."Will you please let us try?" he asked, and taking a worried nod from the Captain for answer, he sat down beside the dead mother, and for a long time, as it seemed to the watching group, stared idly ahead, without so much as a glance at the trembling children.Then he turned, nodded as though he had just noticed them, and taking a cake of chocolate from his pocket, bit off a piece and then broke off a small corner for each child. It was only a taste, but as the delicious morsel melted on their tongues, they crept to Porky like a couple of starved kittens. He showed them the rest of the chocolate and hitched off a few feet. Beany came after. The children followed, and Porky broke off another small bit for each. Some one brought water from the cars for them to drink and in fifteen minutes the thing was done. Porky and Beany, each with a little skeleton in their arms, wandered well away from the spot where unaccustomed hands were awkwardly digging a grave for the dead young mother."This," said Porky, as the child in his arms sagged on his shoulder and seemed to sleep, "this is the worst thing yet!""You bet!" said Beany dismally. "Say, did you see me cry back there? I did!""Well, what of it?" demanded Porky. "Didn't everybody? I'd like to know how they could help it!""I wasn't looking," said Beany. "Oh, gosh, they didn't have to do things like this.""Who, the Huns?" asked his brother. "Why, it's all like this and a million times worse!""Well, I wish I was grown up," mourned Beany. "To think we can't do much of anything! I want to get even! I want to look some of those fellows in the face!""What's your idea? Want to tell him what you think?" Porky laughed unpleasantly, as he shifted the weight of the child. "What's worrying me now is what is going to be done with these poor little kids. Isn't the one you have a pretty little thing? Even all the dirt and hunger can't hide her looks. I suppose they will have to go into some asylum!""I don't see why," said Beany suddenly. "Do you remember Mom and Pop said they wished if we brought them anything from across, it would be something good and worth while? They didn't want German helmets and junk like that. What do you suppose they would say to a couple of dandy little kids like these?""For the love of the board of health!" said his brother solemnly. "It's a great thought, sonny, but do you suppose Momwantsto start in bringing up another lot of children! You know if she ever started, she would make a good job of it; you know how thorough she always is.""Yes, she is thorough, all right!" grinned Mom's son. "Look at us!""She did the best she could with us, anyhow," retorted Mom's other son solemnly, "and I think, no, Iknowshe would be tickled to death to do something as real and important as taking these two little chaps to bring up. And we could help support them if we had to, later.""That's silly," said Porky. "You know Dad has made a lot of money. And he could afford to bring up six of them if he wanted to.""Well, allheever wants is what Mom wants," said Beany."I guess that's so too," said Porky, "but perhaps some of those officers will have some other plans for them."He looked down at the child on his arm. Already he felt a tenderness for the starved, sickly little creature who had trusted him."One apiece," he said, looking at Beany."One's a girl, though," said Beany.Porky wanted to be fair."That's so," he said. "Well, we can draw straws to see which has to take her.""Straws nothing!" said Beany. "She came to me, so she is mine. Darned if I know what to do with a girl, though! Can't teach her to play ball or marbles, and besides that she can't be a Boy Scout.""Well, she can be a girl one. You know they have 'em, and if she can't play ball she can learn to swim and dive and ride and shoot, and it will be pretty handy to have her round the house when it comes to buttons and things. Mother must get tired sewing for three of us.""Wonder how long it takes 'em to grow up to button size," said Beany, studying the tiny bundle in his arms."Don't know," said Porky. He looked anxiously at his brother. His generosity in accepting the care of the little girl worried him. He had to watch Beany, who was always more than generous and self-sacrificing."Why can't we both have both kids?" he asked. "I don't want you to be stung with a girl all the time. It isn't fair.""Stuck with a girl!" said Beany. "Why, Porky, Ilikeit! I never could see why when any one has a baby, everybody says, 'Gee, it's a boy! Isn't that bully!' or else 'Huh, it's a girl, too bad!' I never could see it. Course when they getoursize they mostly are silly pills, but ifIhave a hand in bringing upthisgirl, why, you just watch her, that's all! I bet when she's fifteen she won't look cross-eyed at a boy. I bet she knocks their blocks off! She is going to have some sense!""Looks as though you mean to make a scrapper of her," laughed Porky."No, she has got to grow up just as much like Mom as she can.""Well, Mom likes boys all right," was Porky's reminder."Yes, but I bet when she was young she never googled at 'em or passed notes or accidentally sat down in the same seat with them or any of that. She isn't that kind. You canseeshe isn't." And Beany, whose wavy hair and clear blue eyes had already caused him to suffer, nodded his head vigorously."Go ahead!" said Porky, "I think it's great having an assortment, only I didn't want you to feel as though you had the worst end of the bargain.""Not a bit of it!" said Beany. "Not a bit, and I'll lend you my girl to look at or play with whenever you want.""Much obliged," said Porky, "but I can't help thinking it might be a good plan to break the news to somebody.""Your kidlet is asleep, so he won't notice. Suppose you go back there and see what they are doing.""I can see from here," said Porky with a slight shudder. "They are sort of boarding up a place to put the youngster's mother. They have no way of getting a casket or even a box for her.""It will be fixed all right," said Beany. "The Captain does everything all right. He will fix it just as well as ever he can. I'd like to go over and see just what they are doing.""Better not; you might wake the baby, and we don't want her to see her mother again.""Well, anyhow, one thing is settled. The pair is ours," said Porky with a sigh."They are ours if we can have them," said his brother."You watch me!" said Porky grimly.CHAPTER XDECIDING DESTINIESTired of carrying the children about, the two boys sat down on a bench beside what had once been a large barn. The destructive fire started by the invaders had apparently been checked by a heavy rainfall as the half burned structures and charred timbers testified. There was still a chance to rebuild and save enough from the wreckage to enable the owners to start their lives afresh. But alas, of those owners but two were left—the two tiny, terrified, war-racked creatures in the arms of the two Boy Scouts. While their little charges slept, the boys continued their talk in a low tone. Their arms, unaccustomed to such burdens, were tired and stiff by the time one of the officers left the distant group and approached them."Why don't you lay the poor little cubs down somewhere?" he asked, looking round vainly for a fit place."No place to put 'em, sir," said Porky, "and every time we start to move them, they clutch us and start to scream. As long as we sort of keep 'em hugged up tight, they sleep.""It's awful—awful!" said the officer. "I wish I knew what to do with them now. There's not an asylum of any sort, not a place fit to leave them within miles and miles, and what's to become of themIdon't know. Every orphan asylum in France is crowded.""Oh, that's all right," said Porky. "We don't intend they shall go to any asylum. Our mother has adopted them.""Your what?" asked the captain after a prolonged stare."Our mother," repeated Porky."Your mother hasWHAT?" said the captain. "Just repeat it all.""Our mother has adopted them," said Porky patiently and distinctly. The captain pushed back his cap and stared."Where is your mother?" he asked."Home," said Porky."New York state," added Beany. "She wanted something to remember the war by, so we are going to take her these. She didn't want any German helmets or anything of that sort. She said she didn't want ever to be reminded of helmets, so we will take her these instead.""But, good heavens!" said the officer. "You ought not do anything like that! She would have to bring them up.""That's all right, too," said Porky. "Mom has had experience. She has had us, and one of these is a girl. Girls ought to be easier than boys.""No, she won't mind and, anyhow, we are going to do all the hard work ourselves. Teaching them swimming and baseball and all that.""The girl will like that," said the officer dryly."Course she will!" said Beany, looking proudly down at the future baseballess."It's like this," said Porky. "Our people always trust us, and we know it will be all right. I do hope you can fix it for us, Captain.""It would be a wonderful thing for those poor little orphans," mused the Captain. "But how would you get them home?""That's easy," said Porky. "Our time is up pretty soon. You see we were only allowed a limited stay. That was the agreement when we came, and we can take the kids over with us. Won't youpleaseget General Pershing to fix it up for us? There will be some woman on board to tell us what they ought to eat, and when to put 'em to bed and all that.""It would be a wonderful thing," said the Captain again. "If you are sure about your mother. It's a good deal to wish off on her.""Feel in my left pocket," said Porky. "Feel that letter? Now take it out and read it. It's all right. She wouldn't mind, and I'm proud of mother's letters."The Captain drew out the letter which was much thumbed and soiled, and read:"My own dear boys:"It was good to hear from you both again after the long time between letters. A whole month, in which we received not so much as a post card. But something told me that you were safe and well, so I did not worry. You know, dears, I am not the worrying kind when it comes to that. Your dad, who boasts continually that he never worries overanything, does all the fussing for the whole family, but as long as he doesn't know it, and we never tell him, why, I suppose it is all right."I wrote you a long letter yesterday, telling you all the news of the neighborhood, and this is only a note to acknowledge your letter at once because in my letter I said that we had not heard in a long time."Well, dears, it will not be very many weeks now before we will hope to see our boys again. I am counting the very days. I wonder what souvenir of the war you will bring me. It will be something I will love to have, I know, and not a horrid helmet or anything of that sort. Of course the thing I would like best you can't possibly bring me, and that is a house full of those poor pitiful little Belgian refugees. When I think of our big house, this splendid home we have built since you went away, when I think that soon it will be finished, and we will be in it, just we four, I can scarcely bear it. Somanylittle children homeless!"Well, some day, boys, we must manage to do something for some of those suffering little ones. I know of no other way in which to thank God for our two boys and our many, many blessings. Your father is prospering more and more in his business, and we both feel that we must all four unite in doing for those less fortunate than we."However, I know I can't hope for a couple of Belgians just at present. After the war, we will go and collect a few!"Take care of yourselves always for the sake of the two who love you so well."Your always loving"MOTHER.""Well, I declare!" said the Captain as he finished the clearly written page."Doesn't that about fix it?" asked Porky triumphantly. "Of course these are French, but I guess she won't mind that. They couldn't be worse off in the way of parents or more destitute, no matterwhatthey were.""Mother will be in her glory," Beany cut in. "I hope they don't get fat before we get them home.""I should say not! The thinner, the better as far as mother is concerned. She snaked a private right out of the camp hospital last summer and took him home. He had had pneumonia and looked like a sick sparrow. Mother fed him and nursed him and he gained seventeen pounds in three weeks.""Well, it does beat all!" said the Captain. "Of course, you understand there may be some reason that will make it impossible for you to take these children out of the country.""All I can say is, there hadn'tbetterbe," said Porky, thrusting out his square jaw. "Think I want to give up my kid after it came to me and I lugged it around for an hour?""And do you suppose I want anybody but mother and me to bring up this girl?" said Beany, awkwardly hugging the sleeping mite in his arms closer."Besides," said Porky, "what about mother! It's up to us to bring her what she likes best, and you read that letter. What she wants isorphans, and she'sgottohave'em if westeal'em! So long as we are around, mother has got to have what she wants.""I should think that nearly settled it," said the officer. He laughed but there was a queer gleam in his eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. "I am going to report this to the General now," he said. "Of course we cannot take the children with us, and some way must be found of sending them back to headquarters. I don't see just how it is to be done, as it would be a pity to make you go back with them when this trip is only beginning and be a wonderful thing for you.""No, we hate to lose the trip," said Porky wistfully. "I don't suppose two other Boy Scouts in the whole world ever had such a chance and we sort of earned it.""Stay here," said the Captain, "and I will be back presently."He walked away, and the two boys, holding the two children, sat quietly on the old bench planning in low tones for the future."This girl is going to be a peach," said Beany proudly. "See the way her hair crinkles up? She is rank dirty, but you wait till mother gets her cleaned up.""My word!" said Porky. "She's got to be washed beforethat! Why, they have to have a bath right off as soon as we get hold of a nurse or some woman who understands enough about kids to do it.""Yes, it's an awful job," said Beany. "All the soap gets in their eyes and nose, and there's the mischief to pay. And I want an expert to wash this kid. It makes their eyes red to get soap in 'em, and I don't want hers spoiled.""Wonder what their names are," said Porky."Oh, they are named all right. I suppose we didn't get 'em soon enough to attend to that, but we can call 'em what we like. Don't you know how it is with a registered dog? Don't you remember the two collies Skippy Fields has, one named Knocklayde King Ben and the other Nut Brown Maiden, and Skippy's folks called 'em Benny and Nutty. I bet they each have about thirteen names apiece, but while I'm bringing her up, this girl's going to be called Peggy.""And this is Bill," said Porky without the least hesitation. "Bill. JustBillso you can yell at him good and easy."They went on planning while behind them, over the soft, uneven ground the staff approached unheard and stood watching the little group.Presently, still unheard and unnoticed by the boys, they turned away."And there are those," said General Pershing solemnly, "who do not believe that a special Providence watches over children! The boysshalltake those two orphans home to that good mother of theirs, if it takes an Act of Congress. You say," he continued, talking to the French officer in his own musical tongue, "you say that poor woman said that all her people were gone?""All dead, all lost in this war," answered the Frenchman."Well, if this was only in a movie show," said the great General, "we would presently see a car headed for the rear, coming around that bend ahead, and we would be able to—well, I declare," he exclaimed, as one of the officers laughed and pointed. "That's positivelytoomuch!" as the group laughed with him.A large carwascoming along around the bend, itwasheaded for the rear, and in the tonneau sat a couple of nurses in their snug caps and dark capes!The General himself halted it, and in a few words explained the situation. A couple of the officers, accompanied by the nurses, went over to the boys and at once the children, still sleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion, were transferred to arms more accustomed to holding them, and carried back to the car. Almost before they realized it, the car was off and Porky turned to the General, saluting."Out with it, young man," said the kindly General, smiling down into the eager and troubled face."We will get 'em back, won't we, sir?" he asked. "They can't work some game on us, so we will lose 'em?""We lost a pup that way once," said Beany dolefully, also coming to salute."Well, you won't lose your orphans," the General promised. "I wish I could see your mother's face when your little party appears.""Why, we will write you what she says if you will let us, sir," Porky volunteered."She will be crazy over Bill and Peggy," added Beany, looking fondly after the car vanishing with their new possessions."Beel ant Pekky!" groaned the Frenchman."Wee, Mussoo, we have named them already," said Porky proudly. "We know they have some other names, kind of names, they were registered under, but that kid has to havesomethingeasy to yell at him when he makes a home run, and Beany picked on Peggy right off.""That about settles it," laughed the General. "We must be off if we reach our first sector by nightfall."CHAPTER XIWHISPERS IN THE NIGHTIt was nine o'clock when they reached the first post of observation in their journey, an outpost on the top of a densely wooded hill where they were to remain as long as the General wished to stay. It was a splendid post of observation. A vast battle-torn valley stretched below them for miles and miles. From their vantage point they could see it brilliantly lighted at short intervals by the flares of the enemy. The flares lit the trenches—black, ragged gashes running along the earth—and beyond, where the awful desolation of No-Man's-Land stretched, peopled only with its dead. Seen with field glasses, the plain drew near and they could see the torn surface and the tumbled groups here and there. A great battle had been fought and both sides were resting. Rest was absolutely necessary. The Allies had advanced three miles, pushing back a foe that stubbornly contested every step of the way. The Germans had brought vast numbers of reserves into action but even then the whirlwind tactics and savage rushes of their oversea foe had driven them back rod by rod.Porky and Beany looked on and trembled with excitement. There ahead, hidden in the darkness, were the Huns. There were the barbarians who had shown a civilized world how men can slip back into worse than savagery. Wasted lands, ruined homes, orphaned and mutilated little children, butchered old people. All the unspeakable horrors of war trooped through the boys' minds, a hideous train of ghosts, as they looked across the valley. Ahead lay the heartless and ruthless killers, wolves that had come to worry and tear the sheep, but behind in the darkness, the boys knew with a thrill, every possible mode of transportation was swiftly bringing up the reserve American troops, thousands and thousands of them; men in their prime and beardless boys grim, determined, yet light-hearted, ready to fight as only Americans can fight. Men from the farms, farms in the east where fifty well-tilled acres was a fine homestead; farmers from that great and spacious west where a man called miles of land his own. Professional men, clerks, divinity students, adventurers, all welded by this great need into a common likeness. Eager for life, yet fearlessly ready to die if need be, a mighty army was on its way, was drawing nearer and nearer to the tired troops below. Overhead an adventurous plane or two hummed in the darkness."And we can't help!" said Porky mournfully. "Not a thing we can do, not a thing!""Oh, well, we are doing all we can," said Beany. "I don't just see whatmorewe can do. We can't help our age.""No, but if we are not told justwhereto stay, andwhereto go, I mean to take a little stroll around to-night," said Porky.The boys went over to the General, who stood looking across the valley and saluted. He looked, and gravely returned the salute."Good-night, boys," he said."Good-night, sir," said the boys, and then as an afterthought, "May we walk around a bit, sir?"The General was busy studying the vast field below him as the flashes of light revealed it."Yes, if you don't get lost," he said absently, "and be on hand at eight to-morrow morning. I may be ready to go on then.""Yes, sir," said both boys cheerfully. What luck! The General certainly didn't know what he was getting himself into."The whole night to ourselves, and no bounds, and only we mustn't get lost!" chuckled Porky."Peach pie!" murmured Beany. "Let's be off! Where will we go first?""Down there," said Porky, waving a hand widely over the valley."That's where I thought. But we can't get into any scrape on account of the General. You know he wasn't thinking about us at all when he spoke, and, besides, there would be an awful fuss if we got into any trouble. It would be good-by to our little trip. We would be sent back quicker than they sent Bill and Peggy.""Who wants to get into any scrape?" said Porky. "All I want to do is to see—to see—well, to see just what Icando.""Well, come on," said Beany mournfully. "I bet we are in for some fun, because when we look for things we generally find 'em.""What hurts me," said Porky, "is not carrying weapons of any sort. It's a good safe rule for the Boy Scouts, but I'd be glad of some little thing like a sling shot or a putty blower.""I don't need anything," said Beany, "I've got the neatest thing you everdidsee." Quite suddenly he drew something from his hip pocket and shoved it under his brother's nose. Porky side-stepped."Ha!" said Beany. "It works!" He showed Porky his weapon. It was a monkey wrench from the auto tool chest. In his hand it looked like a revolver."Pretty neat," said Porky. "Is there another one in the box?""Yes, I saw another," said Beany. "I don't see any harm in this. Any one might carry a monkey wrench," and replaced it carefully in his pocket."Sure thing," said Porky, making for the car, followed by his brother. "Didn't the Reverend Hannibal Butts get up to preach one Sunday, and dig for a clean handky to wipe his face with and come up with a bunch of waste and use it before he saw what he was doing?""I remember that," said Beany. "I thought I'd die! And so did everybody else. It 'most broke up the meeting.""Well, when you flashed that monkey wrench I thought it was a revolver sure enough. But it was only an innocent little wrench, and here is the mate to it!" He pocketed the tool, and slipping cautiously out of sight of the group of officers, they went scrambling noiselessly down the steep trail into the valley. Reaching the foot of the hill, they struck cautiously out toward the entanglements, dropping on their faces whenever a flare went up. Presently Beany, a little in the rear, pulled his brother's leg. Porky stopped, and waited for Beany to wriggle up. He muttered, "What?" but did not turn his face. He knew too well that a face turned upwards in the darkness can be seen by an observant watcher overhead in some prowling plane."Men whispering over toward the right," said Beany of the marvelous ears."No business for any one to be there," said Porky, listening intently. "We are well on our side yet.""It's over there on that little hillock," said Beany positively, "and I think they are whispering in German.""Why, theycan'tbe, Bean," said Porky. "We are away inside our lines, and we wouldn't have men out there and, besides, they wouldn't be whispering German or anything else. When our men are supposed to keep still, theykeep still!""I can't help it," said Beany. "They are whispering in German.""All right," said Porky, reluctantly turning toward the spot indicated by Beany. "We'll go over and see what it is, and if there are any Germans holed up around here, we'll sick on a few troops."They did not stand up again, but slowly and with the greatest caution approached a small hillock that stood slightly away from the steeper hills. It was not wooded enough to afford any shelter, nor was it high enough to be a good spot for a gun. For that or for some other reason, the enemy had failed to shell it.On the side toward the Allies a pile of high boulders was tumbled. The rest was grass grown. Beany, whispering softly in his brother's ear, insisted that the voices came from this place."Then they are underground," whispered Porky in his turn.Slowly, ever so slowly they crept up to the little hill and lay in the darkness, listening. Certainly through the grass and stones of the mound came the muffled sound of cautious voices. If they had been speaking English, it is probable that even Beany's wizard ears would not have caught the sound. But the harsh guttural German, even when whispered, seemed to carry far."I don't see how you heard 'em," breathed Porky. "It's hard enough to believe now. What do you suppose it all means!""Search me!" Beany breathed in return."What they doing over on our side?" wondered Porky."It's a good place all right," said Beany against his brother's ear as they lay close to the grass.They were silent for a while, when the unbelievable happened. It was so amazing, so stunning, that both boys at first could not believe that they heard aright. They heard a sound like a windlass or crank turning, a few clods tumbled down on them, and a voice once more whispered hoarsely three words:"Gee, it's hot!""Gee, it's hot!" said the German voice and the simple words seemed to the astounded boys to ring across the valley! On the contrary, they were spoken in a low whisper.Another voice replied. "He won't like it if you speak English, you know.""I can't help it," said the first speaker. "We are two to one anyhow, and I am tired of talking that lingo. I'm a good German all right, but I wasn't brought up tospeakGerman and it comes hard. And this is the hottest place I ever did get in. I don't like it. Do you know what will happen about to-morrow? I'll tell you. We will find ourselves miles behind the Allies' lines, and then what do you propose to do, Peter?""Bosh!" said the man called Peter. "You think because a handful of Americans are here that the tide has turned. Be careful what you think. I tell youno. What can a few hundred of these fellows do against the perfect, trained millions of the Fatherland?""You don't know them," said Fritz."Yes, I do," said the man Peter. "Now let me tell you. For years I was in England; sent there to study those foolish bull-headed people and to create all the unrest I could. It wassoeasy. I saw these Americans there, crazy, loud-mouthed, boasting, always boasting. They talked fight, they told wild tales about the bad men of their west, always boasting. So I tried them. I am a big man, Fritz, and strong; I was not afraid of a little fight, me, myself. I tried them. I slurred their government, sneered at their president, laughed at their institutions. What think you? They laughed. Theylaughed! Quite as if I said the most kindly things. I said, 'What I say is true, is it not?' and they said, 'Perhaps, but it is so funny!' That is what they said, 'so funny!' They should have slain me where I stood.""They don't care what you say or what the rest of the world says," whispered Fritz. "They are too big. Their country is too big. When they fight.... Wait until you have seen them fight! They fight with grunts and gasps and bared teeth. They do not need trenches, they will go over the top with a shout. You will see, friend Peter. They are back there in the darkness now. I feel them!""A few of them, only a few," said Peter. "This little castle of sod and stone is getting on your nerves, my friend. Look you! Do you think the Highest would deceive us? Never, never! There is nothing to this talk of the Americans coming over here. To be sure, they have declared war, but what of it? They are no good. They have no army. All their boasted possessions, all their harbors, all their wealth, yet they have no army. No army! That shows how inefficient they are. Never fear, my Fritz. Not a hundred thousand will reach this soil. I have it from our commanding officer himself.""Then here's hoping for a quick release from this hole," said Fritz bitterly."To-morrow," said Peter; "to-morrow our hosts will sweep across this valley, and we will be with our own again.""Oh, I hope for some release. It's the hardest duty I have ever been given.""But think how we have been able to guide our guns, talking as we can to the airplanes through the clever arrangement of our three little trees on top of our delightful little hill." He laughed. "How clever it all is! And no one will ever suspect!" He paused again to chuckle, and Porky quite suddenly shoved a sharp elbow into Beany's ribs."Well, I'm sick of it," said Fritz still in his low, hoarse whisper, and seemed to move away from the side of the hill where he had been standing.The boys with the greatest caution wriggled away."Now what do you think ofthat?" said Porky when they were in a position where they could talk in safety. "What do you think of that?""Anyhow," said Beany, "they aren't spies. I'm sort of fed up on spies. I can stand for most anything else.""No, they are not spies. I can't make out just what their little game is. It's important, though; you can see that. And we have got to stop it somehow.""That ought to be easy enough. Just go back and get the bunch and a few soldiers, and take 'em.""What's the time, anyhow?" asked Porky. He answered his own question by fishing his wrist watch out of his pocket. He had put it there for fear the luminous dial might be seen."Only eleven," he said. "Plenty of time." He sat staring into the darkness. There were very few flares now, although the night was usually kept bright with them."Wonder why that is," Porky said."Something to do with our little mud house, don't you think so?" said Beany."Yes, I do," answered his brother, "I wish I could make it out. Give us time, give us time!""Well, come on! I want to get some one on. the job," said Beany. "I feel fidgety.""Sit still," said Porky. "I want to think.""What you got in your head now?" said Beany. His voice sounded anxious."We are going to take those men prisoners with our own little wrenches and just by our two selves.""Three of them?" gasped Beany."Three of them!" said Porky. "Come on!"
CHAPTER IX
A VEXING PROBLEM
The boys, who had attained a good working knowledge of the French language, listened breathlessly. The gentle questions of the officer were easy to follow, but without pressing too close to the sad group they were unable to hear the whispered, broken replies of the woman. That the story was a sad one, one of the uncounted tragedies of the invasion of a cruel and heartless enemy, they could easily guess by the break in the French officer's voice and the unashamed and manly tears that filled his eyes. Slowly, painfully she told her story, the two tiny children clutching her closely the while. Fainter and fainter grew the feeble voice. Porky and Beany knew instinctively that they were standing in the presence of death; not the glorious and gallant passing that the soldier finds on the battlefield, but the coming of release from a long and undeserved agony. As the little group watched, one bloodless hand reached up and drew the thin shawl away from her breast. There was a wound there; a cruel death wound that she had stanched as best she could and had covered from the eyes of the two babies. As though her story was all ended, the pitiful eyes fixed themselves on the face of the officer who held her. Rapidly he made the sign of the cross, then with his hand held high, he spoke to the dying woman. It was enough. A smile of peace lighted the worn face, one long look she bent on the two children, and turning her head as if for protection toward the blue tunic against which she rested, she closed her eyes, sighed, and was still.
Reverently laying down his burden, the officer rose to his feet. And while the group stood with bared heads, he told the story as he had just heard it.
The dead woman's name was Marie Duval. For two hundred years her people had lived in simple ease and comfort on the well tilled farm.
In rapid, thrilling sentences, he sketched the story of their happy, blameless lives, through Marie's innocent childhood, her girlhood, and up to the time of her meeting with young Pierre Duval. Pierre had a good farm of his own down the valley, and there they lived in simple happiness and prosperity. Three children were born, the two little creatures crouching before them and one a little older, now dead.
When the war broke out, Pierre put on his uniform and went away. For a while, like other heroic women, she tilled the little farm until one night when a small scouting party of Huns swept down, burning and destroying all that lay in their path. She escaped with her children under cover of the darkness and made her way back to her father's house. For a long time they escaped the tide of war, and lived on and on from day to day, the old, old father and mother and the young mother waiting for news from Pierre. It came at last.... He was dead.
"Then," said the French officer, "then her heart seemed to die too, but she knew that she must live for the sake of the little ones. Already she could see that the agony and terror of it all was killing the aged parents. Four sons were fighting, and one by one they followed Pierre to death.
"Nearer and nearer came the German lines until one awful day a horde of heartless warriors swept over them.
"Sirs, you know the rest," said the French officer, his fine face twitching with emotion. "It is the same old story, the old man ruthlessly tortured and killed, his old wife kept alive just long enough to see him die. The oldest grandchild was with her. He too was tortured while his mother, hidden and imprisoned in a portion of the cellar under the smoking ruins of the farmhouse, heard his childish screams of agony.
"She tried frantically to free herself from the ruins. A soldier saw her, brought the fainting child almost within reach of her hand and killed him. Then with the same weapon he made a savage thrust for her heart, but could only reach close enough to inflict a deep wound. Then making sure that she could not escape from the cellar, he rode away after his troop. She became unconscious, and for days the two little children must have lived on the vegetables stored about them. When she regained consciousness she found strength to drag herself to the shelves where the family provisions were stored. All that was not spoiled she fed to the children, but they were without water save for the rainwater that dripped down upon them. She felt herself growing steadily weaker as the untended wound grew worse. The whole neighborhood seemed abandoned, and their feeble cries brought no help. The children pined, and suffering as they were from shock, soon gave way to the cold dampness and insufficient food.
"Marie herself lived solely through her determination not to leave the two helpless babies to their fate. She prayed that they might die first, and she was glad to note their failing strength, so fearful was she of leaving them alone to a horrible, lingering death.
"She herself grew so weak that much of the time she lay almost unconscious with the little ones huddled against her. She commenced to see visions. Pierre came and comforted her and promised that she should soon be free to be with him. The little martyred son clasped her in his loving little arms, assuring her that he no longer suffered. The old mother and father sat beside her and told her to be brave and patient. But with all her courage she felt that her end was near. She could not endure much longer."
The French officer bowed his head.
"Then came deliverance," he said softly, "deliverance from all her pain and anguish. She has been released. She is with Pierre!"
One of the officers stepped forward and tenderly covered the still figure with his cloak. He took the younger child in his arms, but it screamed and struggled while the other one fought off the friendly hands stretched down to it. The French officer spoke to them pleadingly, but they only stared stupidly at him.
"They are almost done for," said one of the officers. "We have got to get them away from here and right away." He made another effort to take the older child but the little fellow fought with the fury of a little wildcat. One after another tried in vain to get hold of the terrified little fellow, who grew more and more frightened.
Porky and Beany, standing modestly in the rear of the group, watched the proceedings with growing uneasiness. Finally Porky stepped forwards, saluting as he did so.
"Will you please let us try?" he asked, and taking a worried nod from the Captain for answer, he sat down beside the dead mother, and for a long time, as it seemed to the watching group, stared idly ahead, without so much as a glance at the trembling children.
Then he turned, nodded as though he had just noticed them, and taking a cake of chocolate from his pocket, bit off a piece and then broke off a small corner for each child. It was only a taste, but as the delicious morsel melted on their tongues, they crept to Porky like a couple of starved kittens. He showed them the rest of the chocolate and hitched off a few feet. Beany came after. The children followed, and Porky broke off another small bit for each. Some one brought water from the cars for them to drink and in fifteen minutes the thing was done. Porky and Beany, each with a little skeleton in their arms, wandered well away from the spot where unaccustomed hands were awkwardly digging a grave for the dead young mother.
"This," said Porky, as the child in his arms sagged on his shoulder and seemed to sleep, "this is the worst thing yet!"
"You bet!" said Beany dismally. "Say, did you see me cry back there? I did!"
"Well, what of it?" demanded Porky. "Didn't everybody? I'd like to know how they could help it!"
"I wasn't looking," said Beany. "Oh, gosh, they didn't have to do things like this."
"Who, the Huns?" asked his brother. "Why, it's all like this and a million times worse!"
"Well, I wish I was grown up," mourned Beany. "To think we can't do much of anything! I want to get even! I want to look some of those fellows in the face!"
"What's your idea? Want to tell him what you think?" Porky laughed unpleasantly, as he shifted the weight of the child. "What's worrying me now is what is going to be done with these poor little kids. Isn't the one you have a pretty little thing? Even all the dirt and hunger can't hide her looks. I suppose they will have to go into some asylum!"
"I don't see why," said Beany suddenly. "Do you remember Mom and Pop said they wished if we brought them anything from across, it would be something good and worth while? They didn't want German helmets and junk like that. What do you suppose they would say to a couple of dandy little kids like these?"
"For the love of the board of health!" said his brother solemnly. "It's a great thought, sonny, but do you suppose Momwantsto start in bringing up another lot of children! You know if she ever started, she would make a good job of it; you know how thorough she always is."
"Yes, she is thorough, all right!" grinned Mom's son. "Look at us!"
"She did the best she could with us, anyhow," retorted Mom's other son solemnly, "and I think, no, Iknowshe would be tickled to death to do something as real and important as taking these two little chaps to bring up. And we could help support them if we had to, later."
"That's silly," said Porky. "You know Dad has made a lot of money. And he could afford to bring up six of them if he wanted to."
"Well, allheever wants is what Mom wants," said Beany.
"I guess that's so too," said Porky, "but perhaps some of those officers will have some other plans for them."
He looked down at the child on his arm. Already he felt a tenderness for the starved, sickly little creature who had trusted him.
"One apiece," he said, looking at Beany.
"One's a girl, though," said Beany.
Porky wanted to be fair.
"That's so," he said. "Well, we can draw straws to see which has to take her."
"Straws nothing!" said Beany. "She came to me, so she is mine. Darned if I know what to do with a girl, though! Can't teach her to play ball or marbles, and besides that she can't be a Boy Scout."
"Well, she can be a girl one. You know they have 'em, and if she can't play ball she can learn to swim and dive and ride and shoot, and it will be pretty handy to have her round the house when it comes to buttons and things. Mother must get tired sewing for three of us."
"Wonder how long it takes 'em to grow up to button size," said Beany, studying the tiny bundle in his arms.
"Don't know," said Porky. He looked anxiously at his brother. His generosity in accepting the care of the little girl worried him. He had to watch Beany, who was always more than generous and self-sacrificing.
"Why can't we both have both kids?" he asked. "I don't want you to be stung with a girl all the time. It isn't fair."
"Stuck with a girl!" said Beany. "Why, Porky, Ilikeit! I never could see why when any one has a baby, everybody says, 'Gee, it's a boy! Isn't that bully!' or else 'Huh, it's a girl, too bad!' I never could see it. Course when they getoursize they mostly are silly pills, but ifIhave a hand in bringing upthisgirl, why, you just watch her, that's all! I bet when she's fifteen she won't look cross-eyed at a boy. I bet she knocks their blocks off! She is going to have some sense!"
"Looks as though you mean to make a scrapper of her," laughed Porky.
"No, she has got to grow up just as much like Mom as she can."
"Well, Mom likes boys all right," was Porky's reminder.
"Yes, but I bet when she was young she never googled at 'em or passed notes or accidentally sat down in the same seat with them or any of that. She isn't that kind. You canseeshe isn't." And Beany, whose wavy hair and clear blue eyes had already caused him to suffer, nodded his head vigorously.
"Go ahead!" said Porky, "I think it's great having an assortment, only I didn't want you to feel as though you had the worst end of the bargain."
"Not a bit of it!" said Beany. "Not a bit, and I'll lend you my girl to look at or play with whenever you want."
"Much obliged," said Porky, "but I can't help thinking it might be a good plan to break the news to somebody."
"Your kidlet is asleep, so he won't notice. Suppose you go back there and see what they are doing."
"I can see from here," said Porky with a slight shudder. "They are sort of boarding up a place to put the youngster's mother. They have no way of getting a casket or even a box for her."
"It will be fixed all right," said Beany. "The Captain does everything all right. He will fix it just as well as ever he can. I'd like to go over and see just what they are doing."
"Better not; you might wake the baby, and we don't want her to see her mother again."
"Well, anyhow, one thing is settled. The pair is ours," said Porky with a sigh.
"They are ours if we can have them," said his brother.
"You watch me!" said Porky grimly.
CHAPTER X
DECIDING DESTINIES
Tired of carrying the children about, the two boys sat down on a bench beside what had once been a large barn. The destructive fire started by the invaders had apparently been checked by a heavy rainfall as the half burned structures and charred timbers testified. There was still a chance to rebuild and save enough from the wreckage to enable the owners to start their lives afresh. But alas, of those owners but two were left—the two tiny, terrified, war-racked creatures in the arms of the two Boy Scouts. While their little charges slept, the boys continued their talk in a low tone. Their arms, unaccustomed to such burdens, were tired and stiff by the time one of the officers left the distant group and approached them.
"Why don't you lay the poor little cubs down somewhere?" he asked, looking round vainly for a fit place.
"No place to put 'em, sir," said Porky, "and every time we start to move them, they clutch us and start to scream. As long as we sort of keep 'em hugged up tight, they sleep."
"It's awful—awful!" said the officer. "I wish I knew what to do with them now. There's not an asylum of any sort, not a place fit to leave them within miles and miles, and what's to become of themIdon't know. Every orphan asylum in France is crowded."
"Oh, that's all right," said Porky. "We don't intend they shall go to any asylum. Our mother has adopted them."
"Your what?" asked the captain after a prolonged stare.
"Our mother," repeated Porky.
"Your mother hasWHAT?" said the captain. "Just repeat it all."
"Our mother has adopted them," said Porky patiently and distinctly. The captain pushed back his cap and stared.
"Where is your mother?" he asked.
"Home," said Porky.
"New York state," added Beany. "She wanted something to remember the war by, so we are going to take her these. She didn't want any German helmets or anything of that sort. She said she didn't want ever to be reminded of helmets, so we will take her these instead."
"But, good heavens!" said the officer. "You ought not do anything like that! She would have to bring them up."
"That's all right, too," said Porky. "Mom has had experience. She has had us, and one of these is a girl. Girls ought to be easier than boys."
"No, she won't mind and, anyhow, we are going to do all the hard work ourselves. Teaching them swimming and baseball and all that."
"The girl will like that," said the officer dryly.
"Course she will!" said Beany, looking proudly down at the future baseballess.
"It's like this," said Porky. "Our people always trust us, and we know it will be all right. I do hope you can fix it for us, Captain."
"It would be a wonderful thing for those poor little orphans," mused the Captain. "But how would you get them home?"
"That's easy," said Porky. "Our time is up pretty soon. You see we were only allowed a limited stay. That was the agreement when we came, and we can take the kids over with us. Won't youpleaseget General Pershing to fix it up for us? There will be some woman on board to tell us what they ought to eat, and when to put 'em to bed and all that."
"It would be a wonderful thing," said the Captain again. "If you are sure about your mother. It's a good deal to wish off on her."
"Feel in my left pocket," said Porky. "Feel that letter? Now take it out and read it. It's all right. She wouldn't mind, and I'm proud of mother's letters."
The Captain drew out the letter which was much thumbed and soiled, and read:
"My own dear boys:
"It was good to hear from you both again after the long time between letters. A whole month, in which we received not so much as a post card. But something told me that you were safe and well, so I did not worry. You know, dears, I am not the worrying kind when it comes to that. Your dad, who boasts continually that he never worries overanything, does all the fussing for the whole family, but as long as he doesn't know it, and we never tell him, why, I suppose it is all right.
"I wrote you a long letter yesterday, telling you all the news of the neighborhood, and this is only a note to acknowledge your letter at once because in my letter I said that we had not heard in a long time.
"Well, dears, it will not be very many weeks now before we will hope to see our boys again. I am counting the very days. I wonder what souvenir of the war you will bring me. It will be something I will love to have, I know, and not a horrid helmet or anything of that sort. Of course the thing I would like best you can't possibly bring me, and that is a house full of those poor pitiful little Belgian refugees. When I think of our big house, this splendid home we have built since you went away, when I think that soon it will be finished, and we will be in it, just we four, I can scarcely bear it. Somanylittle children homeless!
"Well, some day, boys, we must manage to do something for some of those suffering little ones. I know of no other way in which to thank God for our two boys and our many, many blessings. Your father is prospering more and more in his business, and we both feel that we must all four unite in doing for those less fortunate than we.
"However, I know I can't hope for a couple of Belgians just at present. After the war, we will go and collect a few!
"Take care of yourselves always for the sake of the two who love you so well.
"MOTHER."
"Well, I declare!" said the Captain as he finished the clearly written page.
"Doesn't that about fix it?" asked Porky triumphantly. "Of course these are French, but I guess she won't mind that. They couldn't be worse off in the way of parents or more destitute, no matterwhatthey were."
"Mother will be in her glory," Beany cut in. "I hope they don't get fat before we get them home."
"I should say not! The thinner, the better as far as mother is concerned. She snaked a private right out of the camp hospital last summer and took him home. He had had pneumonia and looked like a sick sparrow. Mother fed him and nursed him and he gained seventeen pounds in three weeks."
"Well, it does beat all!" said the Captain. "Of course, you understand there may be some reason that will make it impossible for you to take these children out of the country."
"All I can say is, there hadn'tbetterbe," said Porky, thrusting out his square jaw. "Think I want to give up my kid after it came to me and I lugged it around for an hour?"
"And do you suppose I want anybody but mother and me to bring up this girl?" said Beany, awkwardly hugging the sleeping mite in his arms closer.
"Besides," said Porky, "what about mother! It's up to us to bring her what she likes best, and you read that letter. What she wants isorphans, and she'sgottohave'em if westeal'em! So long as we are around, mother has got to have what she wants."
"I should think that nearly settled it," said the officer. He laughed but there was a queer gleam in his eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. "I am going to report this to the General now," he said. "Of course we cannot take the children with us, and some way must be found of sending them back to headquarters. I don't see just how it is to be done, as it would be a pity to make you go back with them when this trip is only beginning and be a wonderful thing for you."
"No, we hate to lose the trip," said Porky wistfully. "I don't suppose two other Boy Scouts in the whole world ever had such a chance and we sort of earned it."
"Stay here," said the Captain, "and I will be back presently."
He walked away, and the two boys, holding the two children, sat quietly on the old bench planning in low tones for the future.
"This girl is going to be a peach," said Beany proudly. "See the way her hair crinkles up? She is rank dirty, but you wait till mother gets her cleaned up."
"My word!" said Porky. "She's got to be washed beforethat! Why, they have to have a bath right off as soon as we get hold of a nurse or some woman who understands enough about kids to do it."
"Yes, it's an awful job," said Beany. "All the soap gets in their eyes and nose, and there's the mischief to pay. And I want an expert to wash this kid. It makes their eyes red to get soap in 'em, and I don't want hers spoiled."
"Wonder what their names are," said Porky.
"Oh, they are named all right. I suppose we didn't get 'em soon enough to attend to that, but we can call 'em what we like. Don't you know how it is with a registered dog? Don't you remember the two collies Skippy Fields has, one named Knocklayde King Ben and the other Nut Brown Maiden, and Skippy's folks called 'em Benny and Nutty. I bet they each have about thirteen names apiece, but while I'm bringing her up, this girl's going to be called Peggy."
"And this is Bill," said Porky without the least hesitation. "Bill. JustBillso you can yell at him good and easy."
They went on planning while behind them, over the soft, uneven ground the staff approached unheard and stood watching the little group.
Presently, still unheard and unnoticed by the boys, they turned away.
"And there are those," said General Pershing solemnly, "who do not believe that a special Providence watches over children! The boysshalltake those two orphans home to that good mother of theirs, if it takes an Act of Congress. You say," he continued, talking to the French officer in his own musical tongue, "you say that poor woman said that all her people were gone?"
"All dead, all lost in this war," answered the Frenchman.
"Well, if this was only in a movie show," said the great General, "we would presently see a car headed for the rear, coming around that bend ahead, and we would be able to—well, I declare," he exclaimed, as one of the officers laughed and pointed. "That's positivelytoomuch!" as the group laughed with him.
A large carwascoming along around the bend, itwasheaded for the rear, and in the tonneau sat a couple of nurses in their snug caps and dark capes!
The General himself halted it, and in a few words explained the situation. A couple of the officers, accompanied by the nurses, went over to the boys and at once the children, still sleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion, were transferred to arms more accustomed to holding them, and carried back to the car. Almost before they realized it, the car was off and Porky turned to the General, saluting.
"Out with it, young man," said the kindly General, smiling down into the eager and troubled face.
"We will get 'em back, won't we, sir?" he asked. "They can't work some game on us, so we will lose 'em?"
"We lost a pup that way once," said Beany dolefully, also coming to salute.
"Well, you won't lose your orphans," the General promised. "I wish I could see your mother's face when your little party appears."
"Why, we will write you what she says if you will let us, sir," Porky volunteered.
"She will be crazy over Bill and Peggy," added Beany, looking fondly after the car vanishing with their new possessions.
"Beel ant Pekky!" groaned the Frenchman.
"Wee, Mussoo, we have named them already," said Porky proudly. "We know they have some other names, kind of names, they were registered under, but that kid has to havesomethingeasy to yell at him when he makes a home run, and Beany picked on Peggy right off."
"That about settles it," laughed the General. "We must be off if we reach our first sector by nightfall."
CHAPTER XI
WHISPERS IN THE NIGHT
It was nine o'clock when they reached the first post of observation in their journey, an outpost on the top of a densely wooded hill where they were to remain as long as the General wished to stay. It was a splendid post of observation. A vast battle-torn valley stretched below them for miles and miles. From their vantage point they could see it brilliantly lighted at short intervals by the flares of the enemy. The flares lit the trenches—black, ragged gashes running along the earth—and beyond, where the awful desolation of No-Man's-Land stretched, peopled only with its dead. Seen with field glasses, the plain drew near and they could see the torn surface and the tumbled groups here and there. A great battle had been fought and both sides were resting. Rest was absolutely necessary. The Allies had advanced three miles, pushing back a foe that stubbornly contested every step of the way. The Germans had brought vast numbers of reserves into action but even then the whirlwind tactics and savage rushes of their oversea foe had driven them back rod by rod.
Porky and Beany looked on and trembled with excitement. There ahead, hidden in the darkness, were the Huns. There were the barbarians who had shown a civilized world how men can slip back into worse than savagery. Wasted lands, ruined homes, orphaned and mutilated little children, butchered old people. All the unspeakable horrors of war trooped through the boys' minds, a hideous train of ghosts, as they looked across the valley. Ahead lay the heartless and ruthless killers, wolves that had come to worry and tear the sheep, but behind in the darkness, the boys knew with a thrill, every possible mode of transportation was swiftly bringing up the reserve American troops, thousands and thousands of them; men in their prime and beardless boys grim, determined, yet light-hearted, ready to fight as only Americans can fight. Men from the farms, farms in the east where fifty well-tilled acres was a fine homestead; farmers from that great and spacious west where a man called miles of land his own. Professional men, clerks, divinity students, adventurers, all welded by this great need into a common likeness. Eager for life, yet fearlessly ready to die if need be, a mighty army was on its way, was drawing nearer and nearer to the tired troops below. Overhead an adventurous plane or two hummed in the darkness.
"And we can't help!" said Porky mournfully. "Not a thing we can do, not a thing!"
"Oh, well, we are doing all we can," said Beany. "I don't just see whatmorewe can do. We can't help our age."
"No, but if we are not told justwhereto stay, andwhereto go, I mean to take a little stroll around to-night," said Porky.
The boys went over to the General, who stood looking across the valley and saluted. He looked, and gravely returned the salute.
"Good-night, boys," he said.
"Good-night, sir," said the boys, and then as an afterthought, "May we walk around a bit, sir?"
The General was busy studying the vast field below him as the flashes of light revealed it.
"Yes, if you don't get lost," he said absently, "and be on hand at eight to-morrow morning. I may be ready to go on then."
"Yes, sir," said both boys cheerfully. What luck! The General certainly didn't know what he was getting himself into.
"The whole night to ourselves, and no bounds, and only we mustn't get lost!" chuckled Porky.
"Peach pie!" murmured Beany. "Let's be off! Where will we go first?"
"Down there," said Porky, waving a hand widely over the valley.
"That's where I thought. But we can't get into any scrape on account of the General. You know he wasn't thinking about us at all when he spoke, and, besides, there would be an awful fuss if we got into any trouble. It would be good-by to our little trip. We would be sent back quicker than they sent Bill and Peggy."
"Who wants to get into any scrape?" said Porky. "All I want to do is to see—to see—well, to see just what Icando."
"Well, come on," said Beany mournfully. "I bet we are in for some fun, because when we look for things we generally find 'em."
"What hurts me," said Porky, "is not carrying weapons of any sort. It's a good safe rule for the Boy Scouts, but I'd be glad of some little thing like a sling shot or a putty blower."
"I don't need anything," said Beany, "I've got the neatest thing you everdidsee." Quite suddenly he drew something from his hip pocket and shoved it under his brother's nose. Porky side-stepped.
"Ha!" said Beany. "It works!" He showed Porky his weapon. It was a monkey wrench from the auto tool chest. In his hand it looked like a revolver.
"Pretty neat," said Porky. "Is there another one in the box?"
"Yes, I saw another," said Beany. "I don't see any harm in this. Any one might carry a monkey wrench," and replaced it carefully in his pocket.
"Sure thing," said Porky, making for the car, followed by his brother. "Didn't the Reverend Hannibal Butts get up to preach one Sunday, and dig for a clean handky to wipe his face with and come up with a bunch of waste and use it before he saw what he was doing?"
"I remember that," said Beany. "I thought I'd die! And so did everybody else. It 'most broke up the meeting."
"Well, when you flashed that monkey wrench I thought it was a revolver sure enough. But it was only an innocent little wrench, and here is the mate to it!" He pocketed the tool, and slipping cautiously out of sight of the group of officers, they went scrambling noiselessly down the steep trail into the valley. Reaching the foot of the hill, they struck cautiously out toward the entanglements, dropping on their faces whenever a flare went up. Presently Beany, a little in the rear, pulled his brother's leg. Porky stopped, and waited for Beany to wriggle up. He muttered, "What?" but did not turn his face. He knew too well that a face turned upwards in the darkness can be seen by an observant watcher overhead in some prowling plane.
"Men whispering over toward the right," said Beany of the marvelous ears.
"No business for any one to be there," said Porky, listening intently. "We are well on our side yet."
"It's over there on that little hillock," said Beany positively, "and I think they are whispering in German."
"Why, theycan'tbe, Bean," said Porky. "We are away inside our lines, and we wouldn't have men out there and, besides, they wouldn't be whispering German or anything else. When our men are supposed to keep still, theykeep still!"
"I can't help it," said Beany. "They are whispering in German."
"All right," said Porky, reluctantly turning toward the spot indicated by Beany. "We'll go over and see what it is, and if there are any Germans holed up around here, we'll sick on a few troops."
They did not stand up again, but slowly and with the greatest caution approached a small hillock that stood slightly away from the steeper hills. It was not wooded enough to afford any shelter, nor was it high enough to be a good spot for a gun. For that or for some other reason, the enemy had failed to shell it.
On the side toward the Allies a pile of high boulders was tumbled. The rest was grass grown. Beany, whispering softly in his brother's ear, insisted that the voices came from this place.
"Then they are underground," whispered Porky in his turn.
Slowly, ever so slowly they crept up to the little hill and lay in the darkness, listening. Certainly through the grass and stones of the mound came the muffled sound of cautious voices. If they had been speaking English, it is probable that even Beany's wizard ears would not have caught the sound. But the harsh guttural German, even when whispered, seemed to carry far.
"I don't see how you heard 'em," breathed Porky. "It's hard enough to believe now. What do you suppose it all means!"
"Search me!" Beany breathed in return.
"What they doing over on our side?" wondered Porky.
"It's a good place all right," said Beany against his brother's ear as they lay close to the grass.
They were silent for a while, when the unbelievable happened. It was so amazing, so stunning, that both boys at first could not believe that they heard aright. They heard a sound like a windlass or crank turning, a few clods tumbled down on them, and a voice once more whispered hoarsely three words:
"Gee, it's hot!"
"Gee, it's hot!" said the German voice and the simple words seemed to the astounded boys to ring across the valley! On the contrary, they were spoken in a low whisper.
Another voice replied. "He won't like it if you speak English, you know."
"I can't help it," said the first speaker. "We are two to one anyhow, and I am tired of talking that lingo. I'm a good German all right, but I wasn't brought up tospeakGerman and it comes hard. And this is the hottest place I ever did get in. I don't like it. Do you know what will happen about to-morrow? I'll tell you. We will find ourselves miles behind the Allies' lines, and then what do you propose to do, Peter?"
"Bosh!" said the man called Peter. "You think because a handful of Americans are here that the tide has turned. Be careful what you think. I tell youno. What can a few hundred of these fellows do against the perfect, trained millions of the Fatherland?"
"You don't know them," said Fritz.
"Yes, I do," said the man Peter. "Now let me tell you. For years I was in England; sent there to study those foolish bull-headed people and to create all the unrest I could. It wassoeasy. I saw these Americans there, crazy, loud-mouthed, boasting, always boasting. They talked fight, they told wild tales about the bad men of their west, always boasting. So I tried them. I am a big man, Fritz, and strong; I was not afraid of a little fight, me, myself. I tried them. I slurred their government, sneered at their president, laughed at their institutions. What think you? They laughed. Theylaughed! Quite as if I said the most kindly things. I said, 'What I say is true, is it not?' and they said, 'Perhaps, but it is so funny!' That is what they said, 'so funny!' They should have slain me where I stood."
"They don't care what you say or what the rest of the world says," whispered Fritz. "They are too big. Their country is too big. When they fight.... Wait until you have seen them fight! They fight with grunts and gasps and bared teeth. They do not need trenches, they will go over the top with a shout. You will see, friend Peter. They are back there in the darkness now. I feel them!"
"A few of them, only a few," said Peter. "This little castle of sod and stone is getting on your nerves, my friend. Look you! Do you think the Highest would deceive us? Never, never! There is nothing to this talk of the Americans coming over here. To be sure, they have declared war, but what of it? They are no good. They have no army. All their boasted possessions, all their harbors, all their wealth, yet they have no army. No army! That shows how inefficient they are. Never fear, my Fritz. Not a hundred thousand will reach this soil. I have it from our commanding officer himself."
"Then here's hoping for a quick release from this hole," said Fritz bitterly.
"To-morrow," said Peter; "to-morrow our hosts will sweep across this valley, and we will be with our own again."
"Oh, I hope for some release. It's the hardest duty I have ever been given."
"But think how we have been able to guide our guns, talking as we can to the airplanes through the clever arrangement of our three little trees on top of our delightful little hill." He laughed. "How clever it all is! And no one will ever suspect!" He paused again to chuckle, and Porky quite suddenly shoved a sharp elbow into Beany's ribs.
"Well, I'm sick of it," said Fritz still in his low, hoarse whisper, and seemed to move away from the side of the hill where he had been standing.
The boys with the greatest caution wriggled away.
"Now what do you think ofthat?" said Porky when they were in a position where they could talk in safety. "What do you think of that?"
"Anyhow," said Beany, "they aren't spies. I'm sort of fed up on spies. I can stand for most anything else."
"No, they are not spies. I can't make out just what their little game is. It's important, though; you can see that. And we have got to stop it somehow."
"That ought to be easy enough. Just go back and get the bunch and a few soldiers, and take 'em."
"What's the time, anyhow?" asked Porky. He answered his own question by fishing his wrist watch out of his pocket. He had put it there for fear the luminous dial might be seen.
"Only eleven," he said. "Plenty of time." He sat staring into the darkness. There were very few flares now, although the night was usually kept bright with them.
"Wonder why that is," Porky said.
"Something to do with our little mud house, don't you think so?" said Beany.
"Yes, I do," answered his brother, "I wish I could make it out. Give us time, give us time!"
"Well, come on! I want to get some one on. the job," said Beany. "I feel fidgety."
"Sit still," said Porky. "I want to think."
"What you got in your head now?" said Beany. His voice sounded anxious.
"We are going to take those men prisoners with our own little wrenches and just by our two selves."
"Three of them?" gasped Beany.
"Three of them!" said Porky. "Come on!"