In the boathouse where Stepan had left him, Dick knew almost as soon as he saw Mike Hallo's narrow eyes appear around the closet door, that Mike had not seen him as yet. But he was too frightened to take any advantage of that consciously. Dick had proved that he was not a coward, and yet he was afraid of Hallo. He knew that the man hated him, and, for some reason, feared him. And here, where he would be so completely in his power, there would be nothing to restrain Hallo. He would not even have to call in the police to help him; he could get rid of a boy who threatened him without a witness. And Dick knew enough of Mike Hallo to feel that he would not be deterred by any scruples.
In another moment Mike's little eyes, peering around the dimly lighted room, but not yet well enough accustomed to even that much light after the utter darkness of the closet, would have fallen on Dick. But fear loosened Dick's hold on the electric flashlight that, by pure chance, happened to be in his hand. He started with dismay and tried to catch it, succeeding partly, so that it made only the faintest of noises as it struck a button of his coat. But that was enough. Hallo heard it, and started.
Yet it was that trifling accident that saved Dick. For Hallo, startled, and nervous himself, as of course he had good cause to be, better cause than Dick could guess, darted back into his closet at once. For a moment as Dick stared at it with fixed eyes, the closet door remained ajar. Then very slowly, very quietly, it was drawn to, until it clicked, and was firmly closed. On the instant, then, Dick moved.
He took the chance of being heard, and made a swift dash for the boat. His reason was a twofold one. For one thing, it offered the only possible place of concealment, aside from the closet that Mike Hallo had already preëmpted for himself, and it contained the weapons of which Steve had told him. Dick knew how to use a pistol, and he felt that with a gun of some sort in his possession he would have a chance at least with Hallo, even if he were armed. He would not hesitate to shoot, he told himself, if he had to. He had reason enough to believe that Hallo would not spare him, and in self-defence he would be justified in taking any means to save himself.
But he did not think it was particularly likely that it would come to anything so desperate now as a hand-to-hand struggle. He was recovering his nerve, and the panic that had possessed him when he had first seen Hallo's face had passed. Once he was in the boat, well concealed by the steel hood, he felt that the odds were in his favor, rather than against him, and he could stop to think and reason, which he had certainly not been able to do in the first moment of shocked surprise.
He felt the main thing that favored him was that Hallo was at least as badly frightened as he was himself. And that, after all, stood to reason. The very fact that the man was here at all seemed to Dick proof that he knew the character of this place, and that he was here as a spy. Then he would naturally be startled by a sudden sound, for he would think that it betokened the return of one of the Servian spies who used this as a hiding place and refuge.
"He would know, of course," Dick thought, "that they wouldn't hesitate any more over shooting him than if he were a mad dog. They couldn't, because he isn't threatening only their safety by being here, but their whole plan. And men who are brave enough to be spies in time of war aren't thinking of themselves at all, but of their country."
This was comforting reasoning for Dick, because it made it vastly improbable that Hallo would come out to look for him. He would be concerned with the problem of escaping himself; he would not think of looking for anyone else, but of preventing someone who was looking for him from finding him. So it seemed likely to Dick that he would escape any sort of personal encounter with Hallo, and he was glad of that. He had the same feeling that Stepan had expressed to Milikoff, although, of course, he knew nothing of that talk, nor of how Hallo had happened to come to this place. It seemed to him that Hallo would be worth more to the Servians alive than dead, and it was certain that the only chance for the success of the mission that had brought him from New York to Semlin would be gone if anything happened to Hallo.
From his position, crouched down in the bottom of the boat, Dick could see the closet door. And, as it began to move again, after five nerve racking minutes, Dick clutched his revolver, feeling that it was a pretty good thing to have as an ally, even if it was so unlikely that he would have occasion to use it. His fear had passed away altogether by this time, and a bold plan was beginning to come into his mind. But its execution depended upon Hallo and what that swindler might do next.
For just a second, as Hallo came out into the boathouse, Dick thought of starting up suddenly, covering him with a revolver, and forcing him to surrender. But he decided against that. Mike Hallo, as he knew, was not without a certain crude sort of physical courage. If he was armed—as it was practically certain that he was—he might be able to put up a good struggle. And, though Dick was no longer afraid for himself, he felt that it would involve too great a risk of letting the man get clear away if he followed his impulse.
So he kept perfectly still, instead, while Hallo came out and finally stood in the middle of the part of the boathouse that had a floor. He leaned forward, like a bird dog when it is in doubt, and seemed to be sniffing the air, though Dick knew that he was really only listening with concentrated attention. He was listening, not for a real noise, but for those almost inevitable sounds that the quietest person must make. It seemed extraordinary to Dick that Mike could not hear his breathing, or the beating of his heart, which sounded so abnormally loud to him. But hear them Mike did not, evidently, for after a moment he relaxed and heaved a sigh of relief.
"I'm getting jumpy," he said to himself, aloud, in English. "I guess that wasn't anything I heard before. Just a board creaking, maybe!"
Dick grinned and maintained his silence. And then Hallo, after walking about for half a minute, looked toward the boat.
"If only I knew how to run that!" he said, still aloud.
But, fortunately for Dick, and for Servia, as it was to turn out, he knew nothing of the intricate mechanism of the boat, and so he did not even come over to the water's edge for a closer inspection. Instead, he made for the door, flung it open, and strode out as it banged to behind him.
Dick was after him like a flash, but with his hand on the knob some instinct made him let go and shrink back against the wall. His instinct served him well indeed, for as he did so the door was flung open violently, and Hallo stood in it, looking all about the boathouse a second time.
"Not a soul!" he said aloud. "I must have been dreaming when I heard that noise!"
And all the time Dick was within a foot of him, his pistol gripped tight, ready for anything that might happen!
This time he did not close the door, but turned and walked away. That very action proved that he was no longer afraid that anyone was behind him, for he would not have turned his back had there been any lingering doubt.
And now Dick, giving him a good start, stole after him. He had hesitated as to whether or not he should do so. He had promised to wait for Stepan's return, and he did not like to go without some explanation. But it seemed to him that it was of the utmost importance for him to follow Hallo.
"He's not supposed to be here or to know anything about this place," he said to himself. "And now he may do anything, or go anywhere. He may betray all sorts of secrets. I don't know how long he was in that closet before we came, nor how much he heard—nor what the things he heard meant to him. I didn't understand, but that's no reason for thinking that he didn't. Yes, I'll have to take the chance of worrying Steve and upsetting his plans. I'm going after Mike Hallo. He's my quarry to-night!"
Dick knew that he was taking chances, and perhaps big chances, when he set out to follow Hallo. But he did not stop to think very much about them. He did not have time to think of anything but the work in hand, for Hallo, not content with walking fast, had broken into a run.
Dick understood the reason for that when, in his turn, he heard footsteps; that was what had frightened his man into beginning to run. And Dick ran too, not knowing that the steps were those of Vanya, the soldier, who was on his way to the boathouse with the message from Stepan.
Hallo had all the advantage. He knew the country and Dick did not. Moreover, he could set the pace, and Dick had to follow. To lose sight of Hallo even for a moment meant to risk losing him altogether. And Dick, moreover, dared not follow too closely. He had to be far enough behind to make it impossible for Hallo to learn of his pursuit by stopping suddenly, or making a quick turn.
It was a wild chase that Dick had. Hallo, for a man of his size and years—he was well over forty—made surprisingly good time, and gave Dick, as a matter of fact, all he could do to keep him in sight. And the way was long. Dick was greatly relieved when they came at last from open country into a section where houses were closer together and streets began to take form. In a measure his own risk was greater as they approached the town, but it was also possible for him to get much closer to the man he was trailing, since shelter was so much more frequent. The danger here was of running into the police, but Dick did not greatly fear that.
"I needn't worry about the ordinary policemen," he told himself. "I don't believe they know me at all. I could probably go up to any of them and ask the time, or the way to the railway station, and get away with it all right. It's only the ones who were on my track after I'd been to Hallo's office that I've got to look out for, and I'm not sure that even they would know me."
And now Hallo himself unwittingly made it safer and easier for his dogged pursuer, for instead of going toward the central part of Semlin, where policemen would be more numerous, and where the men who had gone to make the arrest at Dick's lodgings were almost sure to be posted, he circled through the poorer quarter toward the commercial district by the river.
"Oh, this is fine!" thought Dick. "I'll bet he's going to his office before he makes any report. I wonder if Stepan will think of him when I'm missing?"
Dick had to move up very close here, for the streets were crowded with people, and it would have been easy for him to lose his man in the jumble of figures. Several times now Hallo, as he neared his office, was stopped by passersby. He shook them off impatiently when they tried to detain him, however, and once Dick was near enough to hear him say, in an impatient tone: "Let me go! I have an appointment to keep at my warehouse."
And now Dick had a new inspiration. He determined to take a chance. And instead of following Hallo, he seized the opportunity when someone had stopped the Hungarian for a moment, and darted well ahead. He got a good start, and turned the corner of the block leading to the warehouse well ahead of Hallo. In a moment he was inside. Luck was with him, and he hid himself behind a big packing case in Hallo's room.
Crouched behind the packing case, Dick waited, wondering what was to come next. Now that he was here, he felt that he had done a foolish thing, and one only likely to lead to more trouble. There was so little chance for him to accomplish anything of value, and he was not even sure that Hallo would come here at all. Perhaps he was going somewhere else, and he had simply walked into a trap without even a chance of getting any results.
Yet luck had been with him so far in good measure. He had been almost marvelously lucky in the boathouse. That Hallo had not seen him there had been due only to fortune, and scarcely at all, in the first perilous moment, to any action of his own. And he had been lucky again in his trip into the city with Hallo ahead of him. In war time, as he knew, people were likely to be suspicious of any stranger, even of one acting in the most ordinary fashion. And his behavior, as he dodged and trailed after Hallo, had been more than suspicious.
And finally, too, his getting into Hallo's office and finding a place to conceal himself so well had been luck of the greatest sort. He had taken a wild chance when he darted ahead of his man, for he might well have found the door closed and locked, and have been caught by Hallo before he could have got away. But he had staked everything on the hazard that there ought to be a night watchman, as there would be, he knew, in any American warehouse. And a night watchman there was. He had seen the light of a man's lantern, as he came up to the door, from a second floor window. The door had been open, and so he had slipped in.
The very fact that the door was open, too, encouraged him. It seemed to him to make it certain that Hallo was expected some time that night. And then a sound of brisk footsteps on the uncarpeted floor just outside the office set his pulses leaping. Was it Hallo?
He could not tell, and he dared not emerge from his shelter enough to see. In a moment the room was light, but Dick was still hidden, and the movements of whoever had come in were hidden from him, too. But he was sure of one thing after a very few moments. It was not Hallo with whom he now shared the room. The newcomer's movements were too brisk, too quick, for Hallo, who was slow moving, rather heavy footed, though agile enough when it was necessary. Consumed by curiosity, Dick gradually edged over so that he might have a chance to steal a look around the edge of the big packing case without being seen himself.
He succeeded at last, and just as he looked around, the door was opened. Hallo came in, and Dick darted back—but not until he had seen that the other occupant of the room was Stepan Dushan! Now he felt that he was amply justified for what he had done. Steve was here, and between them there should be a chance to do something, he thought!
"What are you doing here?" growled Hallo, as he saw Stepan.
"I came to try to catch up with my work, sir," said Stepan, meekly. "Since I could not be here to-day during the day, I thought it would be better if I got ready for to-morrow, so that in the morning no time would be lost."
"H'mph!" growled Hallo. He hesitated for a moment; then, half satisfied, sat down at his desk.
"Did you have a fall, sir?" asked Stepan, and Dick almost choked with laughter at his tone. "You're all covered with mud. Shall I get a brush and try to take some of it off?"
"No! Attend to your work!" roared Hallo. "Or here—clear out of here! I'm going to be busy, and I want to be alone."
It seemed to Dick that Stepan was hesitating, that he was on the verge of refusing to obey, and so of giving everything away. But he yielded, after just a moment's pause.
"Very well, sir," he said. "I'll go down to the stock-room and make the tally from last night's sheets."
"All right. Be off!" said Hallo, ungraciously.
And now one thing filled Dick's mind. How much had Hallo seen or heard while he was hidden in the closet of the boathouse? Did he know Stepan's real work, and the part he was playing in these stirring times? If he did, and had concealed his knowledge, it meant that he was laying a trap for Stepan, and it meant, too, that he was a good actor, for he had managed to conceal his knowledge admirably if he really possessed it.
Nothing that Dick knew of Hallo made it seem at all likely that he could dissemble well enough to keep from betraying his knowledge, if he had it. But Dick felt that it would not be safe to assume that, because his father had trusted Hallo to a great extent, and had supposed him to be an honorable business man, and there had certainly never been anything in his conduct to suggest that he would behave as he had done. And, moreover in New York he had seemed a plodding, stolid business man, and had never seemed to have it in him to play a part in the sort of intrigue that so evidently occupied much of his time in Semlin.
For a time the room was absolutely quiet. Dick wondered where Steve had gone. He was sure, somehow, that his chum was within reach, probably within hearing, waiting like himself for Hallo to do something. And Dick guessed, too, that Steve must have discovered by this time that the boathouse was empty, and thought that perhaps it was in search of him that Steve was here. That worried him, but for the time there was nothing to be done; he could only wait. The one preparation he could make for whatever might be coming was to get very close to the edge of his shelter, so that he could with little risk peep out from time to time. Each time that he looked out he saw Hallo, head bent low over the table, writing furiously.
Then came the break in the tension. Outside, echoing on the flags, came hurried footsteps. Dick listened eagerly. They turned in and came clattering up the steps. He dared not risk a peep just then to see who was coming. For the time, he decided, his ears must do the work of his eyes as well as their own share. He heard Hallo spring up, overturning his chair.
"You! Here?" cried Hallo, in a low voice. "Are you mad, man?"
"No. I had to come," said the newcomer. "It was impossible to send word, and you had to know—someone had to know! I suppose it was risky for me to come here, but they are all at work. All except Milikoff, and I don't know where he is."
"He led a band of assassins who tried to kill me earlier in the evening," growled Hallo. "But there are others, at least two others, here somewhere. They came in this evening, from the other side."
"From the other side?" said the stranger, in amazement. "But how could that be? The river front is guarded so that a strange fly could hardly cross from Belgrade to Semlin!"
"Don't you know of the boathouse near Milikoff's place?"
Hallo's tone was suddenly menacing. Dick could imagine that he was leaning forward, pushing his heavy jaw into the face of the other man. He remembered that trick of the Hungarian's.
"Boathouse—near Milikoff's? No!" stammered the other. "I never heard of it before!"
"H'mph!" Hallo's voice expressed doubt, distrust. "Perhaps not! Well, I came upon it by chance to-night, and it saved my life. They seized me to-night when I was in conference with them—the treacherous hounds! But they are Servians! I might have expected it! I escaped, and they chased me! They chased me right into the Danube! I swam, while they peppered the water. They had those new silencers, so that it was safe to shoot. And by the merest chance, when I was nearly exhausted, I suddenly saw a door in front of me, as I was trying to swim ashore in an inlet, in the hope of escaping after I had landed. I dived, and came up in a boathouse. The door could be raised, you see, to admit a boat. There was a closet, and I hid."
"That is news to me! I never heard that there was such a place!"
"I drew the closet door to when I heard a man come in. Soon afterward a motor boat entered, and two men landed from her. I could hear their voices dully—that closet door was thick, and it was so hot and close inside that I was almost suffocated. I do not know who they were except that I think Vanya, the soldier, was the man who opened for them. Later, when they had gone, I got out and came here."
"It is good that you came. Master, it is to-night that they plan to strike a great blow. They have dug a tunnel beneath the arsenal. I am almost sure that it is to-night they have chosen to explode a great mine that will destroy the arsenal completely, with all the stores and guns it contains!"
Hallo swore savagely.
"You have done well!" he said. "Eh, there is time yet, you think, to stop them? How is it that you do not know more concerning their plans?"
"They do not trust me wholly. I know only what I can learn by spying and ferreting about. They tell me almost nothing. But I am sure that I am right. Look—I will draw you a plan that will show you where the tunnel is. I think that if you hasten you can catch most of them like rats in a trap. Milikoff is not there. He is the most dangerous of all, save one."
"Who is more dangerous than Milikoff?"
"The boy Stepan Dushan!"
"Stepan Dushan! I do not believe there is such a boy! You tell me of him, but you can never show him to me!"
For a moment Dick could not understand. But then he smiled at his own stupidity. Of course Steve was known to Mike Hallo under an assumed name; he would never have used his own, so obviously that of a Servian.
"It makes no difference whether you believe me or not, I am telling you the truth," said the newcomer with a show of spirit. "He is young, but he has done more to discover the truth than any of them. He has brought information of the concentration of the Austrian troops along the Drina. It is through him that they learned where the stores and supplies were being massed in the mountains there. I told you yesterday of the plans that were made for a Servian raid, but it was too late. A raiding column crossed the Drina last night and destroyed most of the stores you had collected."
"There has been a leak somewhere in my own place!" said Hallo, savagely. "Even the men who executed the orders did not know where those supplies were going! I trusted no one!"
"That is just the bad part of it, master," said the spy. "They will be saying next that you yourself gave away the truth to the Servians."
"Who will believe them?"
"If it is known that you have been in touch with Milikoff?"
"It is known, fool! It is known that I am treating with them simply to gain information of their plans. But now—it is no time for talk. We must move quickly, or they will explode their mine."
He lifted his voice in a sudden shout.
"Jan!" he cried. "Jan!"
And then Dick's heart sank. That must be meant for Steve—and to answer meant deadly peril for Stepan Dushan, since the spy, who had so plainly been betraying Servian secrets to Hallo, knew Stepan. Dick edged forward, waiting, wondering. Now he caught a glimpse of the spy, and then he drew back, as he saw that both Hallo and the other man had come very close to him. They stood just by the box that sheltered him.
"Jan!" cried Hallo again.
"Here I am!" said Stepan's voice. And then, "Serge!"
"Stepan Dushan! That is Stepan Dushan!" shrieked the spy.
Then, before anything more could happen, Dick had an inspiration. He threw his whole weight against the heavy packing case, straining, pushing. It trembled, gave, and then crashed down, bearing Hallo and the spy down beneath its crushing weight, sending them down, stunned and helpless.
"You, Dick? Thank God!" cried Stepan. Then his face flushed, and he came forward, furiously. He dragged the spy out, looked at his face, and then spurned him with his foot.
"You saved my life, I think, Dick," he said, simply. "I never suspected this! Treachery in our ranks. I had not supposed that any Servian would sell his country. Mike Hallo, of course, we never trusted—but this man! Well, he will pay in one way or another."
"I knew what was going to happen. I was here and heard them talking."
"I didn't even know he had come. I had made some discoveries below, and was hard at work. I knew that Hallo would not leave without my knowledge. He would not have wanted to leave me here alone in the warehouse. But, Dick, how did you get here? How did you come to leave the boathouse? I asked you to wait there, you know."
"How did you know I had gone?"
"Vanya, the soldier, told us. I sent him to fetch you. And when we learned that you had gone, we suspected that Hallo had had some part in it, for by then I had been told that he had escaped after they had caught him. But you don't know about that—"
"Don't I though? I was there listening, while he told this other fellow all about it. He was in the boathouse when we landed, Steve!"
"Ah! I knew it! I told Milikoff so! That was how he escaped! But how did you come here—free?"
Dick told his story as quickly as he could; told of how he had escaped from detection in the boathouse because Hallo had been even more frightened than he himself, if anything, and of his wild chase after the Hungarian.
"I was afraid I had done wrong in going—afraid that I should have stayed in the boathouse and waited for you to come. Did you come here after me, Steve? Wasn't that your purpose?"
"Yes, in a way. I thought that Hallo had something to do with your disappearance, and I never dreamed of your being able to fool him as you did! But I should have come in any case. Milikoff and I had decided that before we knew that you had vanished. And if you hadn't been here, Dick, they would have killed me, I think, when this wretched traitor told Hallo that I had been deceiving him."
"He told him more than that, though Hallo did not know it was you of whom they talked, Steve. This spy told him that you were the most dangerous of all—and Hallo said he didn't believe there was any such person as Stepan Dushan!"
They both laughed, and Steve laughed still more when he heard of Hallo's mystification and fury about the revelation of the hiding places of the stores on the Drina.
"That was what made us sure that Austria had decided for war," he said. "We knew that she would not prepare for an invasion there so secretly otherwise. That was why we knew that it would be useless to agree to her terms, even if that had been possible."
"Hallo said no one but himself knew about those stores."
"He was nearly right—but a miss is as good as a mile," said Stepan, with a laugh. "He knew—and the staff knew—and I knew! I found out all about those things by reading his private letters, Dick. That was the part I hated most about the work. I had to read all his letters after we became sure of what he was doing. It made me feel wretched at first, as if I were doing something very dishonorable."
"But you weren't doing it for a dishonorable reason, Steve. Still I can see how you felt."
"But I didn't feel that way very long, Dick, because I soon found out what a miserable cheat and swindler he was! You were surprised, you know, when you found out that I knew all about you."
"I certainly was! I never was so much surprised in all my life!" said Dick very quickly.
"Well, I may have some more surprises for you still, Dick. I'm not sure, but I do know some things I haven't told you yet."
"You do, Steve? Why can't you tell me now?"
"I can, but I want to make sure that they will be of some use to you before I do. If I told you some things I know, they might make you change your plans, and then they might not be of any value, after all. They might only put you off. You see, when I first found out these things about the way he had treated you, I didn't know you and didn't have any reason at all to suppose that I ever would, or that I'd ever even see you. New York's a long way off—and, of course, I was more interested in what was going on here, because I knew that this war might come along at any moment, and I was here just to see what I could do for Servia and to interfere with the things we had reason to suppose Mike Hallo was doing for the Austrians."
"Of course. I can understand that, Steve. There wasn't any reason for you to do as much as you did, and to take all the interest you did in me, when you didn't know anything about me."
"Well, at first I just wanted to help you because I hated him so. I thought there was a chance to spoil the trick he was trying to play on you. When I found that he was planning to get rid of you by having you arrested before you could get back to the American consulate I wanted to trip him up."
"You certainly did a lot for me, Steve. I don't know whether I'll ever be able to get anything out of him, but if I do it will be due to you. If they had ever got me out of here and away to Buda-Pesth, I'd never have been able to come back, even if they had not managed to trump up some charge against me and kept me in prison for a long time."
"Oh, they would have done that, Dick, of course. That was the idea. And it's very easy for them to manage such things here. As easy as it used to be in France before the revolution there."
"What are we going to do now, Steve?"
Dick looked down at the helpless figures of the two men on the floor. Neither of the scouts had paid much attention to them as yet, but now they leaned down and examined them.
"They're not badly hurt," said Steve, contemptuously. "They saw the crate falling and so did I. And they tried to jump. So it didn't fall full on top of them, but struck glancing blows on their heads and almost pushed them out of the way. I don't see how you ever got it going at all, all by yourself! It looks terribly heavy."
"I think it was because it wasn't very well balanced, Steve. If it had been turned the other way probably I couldn't have budged it. But the heavy end was on top, which made it go over. I sort of jumped at it, and that gave it the start."
"I'm afraid we'll have to leave them here," said Steve. "I wish there was some way for us to take them along, but I don't see how we can. We might be able to drag Hallo with us, but we wouldn't get very far."
"I suppose not. He has lots of friends, hasn't he? I saw ever so many people stop and speak to him when I was following him on the way here."
"I don't think he's got many friends, but there are a lot of people who know him, all right. Still, it isn't that—it would be making ourselves conspicuous by having him with us at all."
"It would be a good thing to take him, though, if we could, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, yes. The best thing in the world! If we could only get him to our boat and carry him back to Belgrade!"
"Steve, how about the men who are working in the tunnel under the arsenal?"
"What do you mean? What do you know about the tunnel under the arsenal?"
Steve was startled and dismayed, but Dick laughed at him.
"That's all I know," he said. "Just that there is such a thing, Steve. You needn't be frightened—I haven't been spying around. But this man that came here to see Mike Hallo knew all about it. He told him the mine was going to be sprung to-night, and that they must hasten to stop it."
"That ends the last doubt! He is a traitor!" said Steve. "He surely will have to pay the price of treachery, too, when there is an opportunity."
"Do you mean that they will kill him?"
"What else can be done? It is his life against a nation, Dick. A man like that may cause a thousand deaths by betraying a single secret. But—about the men in the tunnel. I might have known that there was some good reason for your knowing. Yes, it is true. There are men working there, and they will try to explode their mine and blow up the arsenal to-night."
"Can't you reach them? I think that two or three men might get Hallo through the town and to the boathouse. They could pretend that he was drunk, and that they were helping him along, if he was still unconscious."
"Dick, I think you've hit on the right idea again! I'll try to get them. But suppose they come to first?"
"If we tied them up?" was Dick's suggestion.
"It would be risky. The watchman may come here at any moment after he hears no more voices."
"Yes, that's so. How long would it take you to go?"
"To go and come back? Twenty minutes, perhaps."
"Then go! Don't delay any longer, and I will stay here and keep watch."
"In here? No, it is too dangerous. I am afraid now, if they learn what you have done for us, they will be able to make a real charge against you, and that even your consul could not help you to escape severe punishment."
"I would not wait here—not in here, Steve. I would watch outside. Look! Do you see these grains of corn?"
He picked up a handful of the kernels from a sample basket on the table.
"Yes. What about them, Dick?"
"I will keep watch. If he comes out, I will follow him and every three or four feet I will let a little of this corn drop, so that it will mark a trail for you to follow. Do you see the idea?"
"Yes, and that is magnificent, Dick! That is the best chance we shall ever have of catching him. It will be better for him to come out, for he will lead you away from the busier part of the city, perhaps, so that it will be easier for us to take him! I'm off! I think we have a chance to get the scoundrel this time, thanks to you!"
They slipped out together, leaving the two unconscious men.
"I think Hallo will come to before long," said Dick. "The other will take longer for he seemed to be more badly stunned, or else he's not as strong as Hallo. Will Mike leave him there, do you think?"
"Yes. Why not? He will be thinking of his own precious skin, you may be sure. Good luck, Dick! I'll be back just as soon as I can!"
"Yes—hurry! But I think we'll be all right."
Dick took his place in a dark doorway on the opposite side of the street and began his vigil. The seconds seemed to drag by endlessly, but Dick never took his eyes from the entrance of the warehouse. And at last—he had really been waiting less than ten minutes!—he was rewarded. Hallo came out holding his hand to his head, staggering a little as he walked. Dick gave him a start, and then crossed and followed. He dropped his corn as he went, and his hand was on the automatic pistol in his pocket, which somehow gave him a sense of security.
Hallo turned a corner; Dick hurried a little. And, as he rounded the corner in his turn, there was Hallo—waiting! At the sight of Dick he almost screamed, but choked the cry.
"So it's you, is it?" he cried. He made a savage rush, his arms outstretched like those of a gorilla.
But the sight of the wicked looking little gun in Dick's hand stopped his rush. Mouthing his words, venomous hate in his eyes, he checked himself.
"What do you want, you little devil?" he said, grittingly.
"Turn around!" said Dick, savagely. Somehow that wild rush that had stopped just as the man's cruel arms were about to close about him had aroused something in Dick that he had never felt before. For the first time he knew what it meant to see red. He felt that he would like to have Hallo down and beat him with his fists, with the butt of his pistol—with anything, if it would only hurt his enemy enough!
Hallo tried to meet his eyes for a moment. Then he turned round, so that his back was to Dick. The scout pressed the muzzle of the little automatic, that, despite its tiny proportions, was still such a deadly weapon, into the small of Hallo's back.
"Do you feel that?" he said. "And do you know that I can't miss when you're so close to me? Don't think I am afraid to shoot because I tell you right now, Mike Hallo, that I'll fire the first time you don't do exactly as I say."
"You'll pay for this!" said Hallo, furiously. "This isn't America, with its lynchings, where people can take the law into their own hands."
"You needn't sneer at America!" said Dick, with cold anger in his voice. "You earned a good living there, and made a small fortune—and you stole another! Now, then, step forward! Slowly—and go straight ahead until I tell you to turn."
With a snarl Hallo obeyed. And Dick, as he went along behind him, keeping the pistol in such a position that he could use it on the instant, began to talk to him.
"You're a joke, Mike Hallo," he said, contemptuously. "The next time you try to swindle someone, don't pick an American family. You thought you were safe here, because we didn't have the money to hire big lawyers to go after you, didn't you? You never expected to see me here in Semlin. And when you did, you thought you'd fixed me by getting them to arrest me!"
"I had nothing to do with that," protested Hallo. His blustering, savage mood seemed to be passing, and he was disposed to cringe.
"Oh, no!" said Dick. "Of course not! You didn't want me to be driven out of Semlin! You wanted me to stay here and get back the money you stole from my father. You don't care anything about money, either, I suppose? Oh, no! You don't care any more about money than you do about your right hand! You wouldn't do anything to turn a dishonest penny except murder and treason and robbery, would you?"
"Dick, I've always been friendly to you and your family," said Hallo, tremulously. "I'm half an American. I tell you what I'll do. We'll let bygones be bygones. I lost more than your family did in the failure, back there in New York, of course. But I've done pretty well since I came home here to Hungary."
"I should think so!" said Dick. "How much has the Austrian government paid you for the spy's work you have done? Why, you even cheated your government! You're not even a patriot!"
For the first time, seemingly, Hallo guessed that Dick might have something to do with the enemies he really feared—the Servians with whom he had been playing fast and loose for weeks.
"What do you mean by that?" he cried, turning half around in his eagerness.
Dick jammed the pistol into his ribs to remind him of it.
"Go on! Keep your face turned away from me! I don't like the looks of it!" he said, viciously.
"Do you know Stepan Dushan?" asked Hallo.
"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" said Dick.
"See here, Dick, there's no use in your being angry at me any more. Perhaps I was mistaken. I will tell you, in any case, what I will do. I will overlook everything that you have done here in Semlin, and I will arrange to have the police charge against you withdrawn. That is a very serious matter, let me tell you. If I did not have a great deal of influence with the big people here it would be quite impossible to arrange it. And I will give you, besides, twenty-five thousand dollars!"
Dick laughed.
"Go on," he said. "Walk faster!"
"Thirty-five thousand—"
"If you offered a million, I would believe you just as easily," said Dick. "I know you for just what you are, Mike Hallo! You're a low down liar and cheat and swindler, and I wouldn't believe you under oath. If I accepted your proposition, you'd never pay me a cent, and you'd do your best to get me into prison here besides."
"No—no—I'm telling you the truth, Dick! I will do it, I swear it! Do you think I have no gratitude? It is of the greatest possible importance that I should be free at once to attend to some pressing business!"
"It isn't half so important as you think, Mike," said Dick, with a laugh. "And you're attending to some very pressing business right now, too. The most pressing business you ever had in your life is to keep right on walking the way I tell you to and moving as fast as you can, too."
"But, Dick, I tell you I shall be ruined if you make me go on! How can I pay back the money you came for if I am ruined?"
"I don't know—and I'm not trying to guess riddles to-night. It seems to agree with you pretty well to be ruined, though. You made a lot of money out of being ruined in New York, didn't you?"
"Dick, I have known you since you were a baby! Your father was my best friend—"
"Don't remind me of that!" said Dick, angrily. He had been a little amused by Hallo's desperate pleading, but this reference to his father, whom the man before him had treated so outrageously, revived his anger. "The best chance you've got to get through right now is for me to forget about how friendly you were with my father and how you began to cheat him as soon as he was dead and couldn't watch you any longer!"
"Dick, I will make a last appeal! In the safe in my office there is money—a great sum of money! You can have all of it—every florin! There is much more there than you ever said I owed your mother! The combination of the safe is written in the pocket book in my right hand pocket. Take it out—go back and get the money. I will write out an order for you to take it—I will write out an admission that I cheated your family! Only, let me go before it is too late!"
"No—nothing doing! Straight ahead!"
Perhaps there was a certain note of finality in Dick's voice; perhaps Hallo was just trying to think of some new temptation to put before him. He was silent, at any rate and so, for a minute, was Dick. Dick was really greatly amused by Hallo's pleadings. And now he could not resist a dig. It was revenge, and he took it without delay.
"This ought to be a lesson to you, Mr. Hallo," he said. "I remember that when I was a little bit of a chap you were always telling me that—saying that this thing or that ought to be a lesson to me. Do you remember?"
Hallo did not answer.
"You did, anyhow. Well, this ought to teach you that a business man ought always to act so that people trust him. You haven't, you see. People know you're a liar and a cheat, and so they don't believe you even when you are telling the truth. You may have meant to do all the things you've promised me to-night, but how could I take a chance on you when I knew the truth about the way you've acted before? A reputation's a good thing—I've always heard that, and now I know it."
Dick chuckled, but Hallo made no sound of any sort. Dick could imagine, however, the workings of his mind, and he did not envy the helpless man in front of him. Neither was he sorry for him. If Hallo was in a bad way, he had himself to thank for it. Dick could respect him, in a way, for his dealings with the Servians and the whole conduct of the man in his relations with the Austrian authorities and the enemy. He might be a good patriot. All the things he had done in connection with the sale of supplies to the army and the attempts he had made to break up the Servian system of espionage might be perfectly legitimate.
Even though Dick was heart and soul on the Servian side, he could respect any sincerely patriotic Austrian or Hungarian. But he doubted whether Hallo was capable of being either sincere or patriotic; he had an idea that the man was a patriot simply because he saw a chance to make money out of his patriotism.
"He is in a bad way, though," Dick thought. "They'll blame him for all the things that have gone wrong, and if he has acted here the way he did in New York, they'll believe that he did it deliberately too. They won't give him the benefit of the doubt; they'll be sure he was a traitor, instead of just a fool, and he will suffer for it too."
Dick was keeping his pistol carefully concealed. Whenever anyone came in sight, to whom Hallo might have appealed for aid, he reminded him of the existence of the pistol by tickling his ribs with it. But very few people were abroad. It was late, and Dick was purposely choosing unfrequented streets.
For more than the first time Dick was deeply grateful for his excellent bump of locality, which his service with the Boy Scouts had done so much to develop. It was comparatively easy for him to follow the course he had planned, and he knew that with every step they were getting further from the heart of Semlin and nearer the boathouse which was his destination. There was every reason to suppose, too, that he would not have to handle Hallo single-handed much longer. Behind him, when he glanced back from time to time, the trail was plainly marked by the little scatterings of corn.
"I'm glad it's night time," he reflected, with a grin. "In daylight there would be birds after that corn, and it wouldn't serve as a trail for very long. But it's good fun; it's like a paper chase, or hare and hounds. Only this time the hare wants to be caught!"
Then he thought of Hallo, and decided that at least one of the hares wasn't anxious to be caught at all.
"Still he doesn't know what I'm doing, I guess," thought Dick, "There's no use in spoiling the pleasure of this little walk for him by telling him, either. He'll know soon enough, if I have any luck."
They were in open country by this time, with very few houses in sight. Suddenly Hallo broke out.
"Where are you taking me?" he cried, fearfully.
"Oh, you're beginning to recognize the route now, are you? Yes, we're going back to the place you came away from in such a hurry not so very long ago!"
"You were there!" said Hallo; suddenly, "I thought I knew your voice—in the boathouse! That was you who came in the launch?"
"I don't have to answer," said Dick. "Hurry along! You slow up when you talk. And your talk isn't interesting enough to make it worth while to delay."
"I—"
Whatever Hallo meant to say was never finished. For suddenly the ground shook, and there was a dreadful roar. A huge flash lit up the sky, and behind them bedlam seemed to break loose. There was a succession of reports, like repeated volleys of rifle fire, and sometimes a louder roar.
"There goes the arsenal, so you can quit worrying," said Dick. "Even if I let you go now, you couldn't prevent that, could you? Oh, I knew what you were driving at, all the time!"
But even Dick, for all the wild mood of anger that had held him since he had had Hallo in his power, had to consent to a halt now. If the Servians planned not only to inflict a severe blow on the Austrians by the destruction of war material, but to spread terror as well, they succeeded admirably. For there was not one explosion alone; there was a series of explosions. And fire spread from the arsenal, too.
"The shells are going off, you see," said Dick, a little awed. "They're exploding in all directions. I suppose there will be a good deal of damage. And those cartridges must be sending an awful lot of bullets around promiscuously."
"I don't think many people will be hurt," said Hallo. Like Dick, he was awed by the spectacle, and the terrible magnificence of it for the moment seemed to have driven from his mind all thought of anything but the explosion itself. "There are very few houses about the arsenal; they are mostly public buildings of one sort and another. It's not the sort of neighborhood people choose to live in. Even in time of peace there may be an accident in an arsenal at any moment—and just as bad an explosion as this one."
But then, suddenly, Hallo seemed to remember his position.
"You will pay for this!" he cried. "It is your doing, because if you had let me go I should have stopped that! You are in league with the Servian spies who have been working here for months, who planned the murder of the Archduke in Serajevo—"
"Why don't you say I killed him?" suggested Dick. "Forward march, again! The show is over!"
"Oh, your time will come—and you will cry to me for help then! The police only had suspicions before, but now they will have facts, and all the consuls and ambassadors in the world won't be able to help you! It won't be a matter for the police at all, my lad! It will be a court-martial that will try you."
"Perhaps. We shall see. Hello, what's this?"
Dick had just been thinking to himself that it was highly fortunate that they had passed the settled district to the northeast of Semlin before the explosion, since he could easily imagine the outpouring there must have been into the streets at that terrific sound. But now there was a sound of rushing feet, and around a corner, perhaps a quarter of a mile in front of them, a body of men appeared—troops, coming at the double quick.
"Here, this way!" said Dick, sharply.
He pointed to a clump of trees beside the road, and forced the reluctant Hallo to go in before him. The pistol was giving him fine support for it was very evident that Hallo did not mean to take chances. Dick did not know, as a matter of fact, whether he would be able to fire if the necessity arose. To shoot even Mike Hallo in cold blood, and when the man was helpless to all intents, was something he could not contemplate without a shudder.
In fact it was partly because Hallo was his enemy that he felt that he was likely to hesitate, and at a moment when hesitation was likely to be dangerous, if not fatal.
"I'd feel differently if I didn't have anything against him, personally," said Dick to himself. "As it is, I'd never be sure, if I shot him, whether I was doing it in self-defence or because it was a good chance to get even with him for the things he's done to me and to my family."
Fortunately, however, Hallo did not put him to the test. Dick realized that it was a dangerous minute. The seconds that elapsed while the soldiers were passing in the road were the longest he had ever spent. A single shout from Hallo would have settled matters. In such times, and with a reminder of the dangers of the situation such as the destruction of the arsenal, there would have been an immediate investigation, and, whatever happened to Hallo himself, Dick would be in a bad case, and he fully realized his situation.
Dick allowed plenty of time for the soldiers to pass. It did not take long, as a matter of fact, and he decided that there could have been only a small detachment, not more than a company of infantry probably. Hallo might have told him that there were comparatively few troops in Semlin, and that the greater part of the Austrian forces along the border were placed at two points, Schabatz, on the Save, and Losnitza, on the Drina, since it was at those two points that the invasion of Servia was to be begun, according to the plan of the Austrian General Staff.
The bombardment of Belgrade was not intended to cover a subsequent attack, but to serve as a feint, in the hope that a large number of Servian troops would be retained for the defense of the capital. Belgrade was of no use to the Austrians. By holding Semlin they could cut the railway and had every advantage that the occupation of Belgrade could have given them, except the sentimental value of having possession of the enemy's capital. Later in the war the Austrians were to make the grave mistake of occupying Belgrade for just such sentimental reasons, and the mistake was to be proved by the sacrifice of an army.
"All right, we can go back to the road again," said Dick, when he had allowed more than enough time for a rear guard to pass. "Your friends have held us up. See if you can't move a little faster to make up for the delay!" and he prodded him with his revolver for emphasis.
Dick had scattered his corn steadily and now, as they went back to the road, he kicked the kernels that marked their digression aside, since he knew that Stepan and the others, if they were following, would only waste time by following the detour into the woods. He had brought a plentiful supply, and he was glad of it, since he was traveling further with Hallo than he had thought it at all likely that he could. For some time he had been listening eagerly for some indication that Stepan and his friends were approaching, but there had been none. He was not ready to be worried about them yet, however dangerous as he knew their work had been, since it was easy to imagine a dozen trifling things that might have delayed them.
And yet he could think of more serious things, too. There might have been a premature explosion of the mine, and he shuddered at the thought of what the fate of the Servians must have been if that was what had happened. Or they might have been caught as they emerged from the tunnel. Or—but he shook off such ideas. There was no reason yet to suppose that everything was not all right. And the important thing was to get Hallo to the boathouse. It was absolutely vital, now that Hallo knew about that refuge, and also the identity of his former office boy, that Hallo should not escape to use his knowledge, since he could do incalculable mischief to the cause that Dick had now made his own.
Hallo went along stumbling, groaning, growling. Finally Dick did begin to feel sorry for him. After all, the man was in bad condition. He had been painfully hurt by the crashing down of the big packing case, and his fright and escape through the water had weakened and tired him, even before that. Now he seemed to be in the last stages of exhaustion, and when he began to plead with Dick on account of his weariness, rather than with promises or threats, he was on the right track. Perhaps that feeling threw Dick off his guard for a moment. At any rate, when Hallo finally made his bid for freedom he chose the most, perhaps the only, opportune moment.
Dick had taken his eyes off him for a moment, and had loosened his hold on the butt of his automatic. And just then Hallo stopped suddenly, whipped back his foot, and tripped Dick neatly and successfully. Dick went down; before he could reach for the pistol, Hallo was on top of him. Exhausted though he was, Hallo outweighed Dick still as much as ever, and he was strong as well. Dick fought well, but the surprise had been complete. As he reached for the pistol, Hallo seized his arm and in a moment was twisting it around behind his back in a cruel hammer lock hold—that deadliest of wrestling grips, that means a broken arm for the victim unless he yields. The struggle was over in a moment, and the positions were now completely reversed.
Hallo had the pistol, and he was in as absolute command as Dick had been while he still held it.
"Ah!" said Hallo. "I said your time would come, Dick, my lad! And it has! You're in my power now! I could kill you, do you know that?"
Dick did not answer; he was thinking too hard. And there was nothing for him to say, anyhow. He had been neatly tricked, and, though he was badly frightened and ready to admit it to himself, it was impossible not to admire Hallo, so adroit had he been in seizing his one chance of escape.
"Yes, I could kill you easily enough," Hallo repeated. "And no one would blame me. I have proof that you are a spy, and it is a praiseworthy thing to kill a spy. But I shall not. I shall be generous to you, Dick, even if you did not remember our old friendship. I shall take you back with me, and turn you over to the soldiers, and they will try you fairly, and let the American consul defend you, and then they will shoot you."
A perfect frenzy of revenge seemed to seize the Hungarian as Dick maintained his silence.
"Oh, they will know how to make you talk!" he cried. "Keep still, then, if you like! I don't care! You would come here after me? You would try to make me pay back the money you say I took? Well, then, I did take it! And why not? I could use it better than your foolish family! Ah, Dick, it does not pay to monkey with the buzz-saw, as your father used to say! Does it? I am a buzz-saw—yes, that is what I am! Now, then, march! But turn the other way!"
"I'm not afraid of you," said Dick, breaking his silence at last and speaking in a contemptuous voice. "I think you're pretty brave, though, Mike. I didn't think so a little while ago. I thought you were a great coward. But if you have the courage to go to the army authorities after the destruction of the arsenal, you are a brave man, and I respect you for that, even if you are a thief!"
Hallo stared at him stupidly for a moment.
"Eh? What is that?" he said. "No matter! March! You are trying to bluff me, as you Americans say, and you cannot do it! They will know the truth when I tell them. They will believe me. They will not think that I had anything to do with that."
"You say so—but you don't believe what you're saying yourself," said Dick. "When they hear about how you have been going on, they will think it funny that you did not know about this plot in time to warn them. Do you think they will try us at the same time?"
But he stepped out, just the same, for Hallo was beginning to look dangerous. He looked frightened, too, and Dick felt that it was not at all certain that Hallo would force him to go all the way. When he had had time to think for a little of what the attitude of the Austrian commander was likely to be, Dick thought military headquarters in Semlin would be about the last place that he would seek!
Even so, however, there did not seem to be much to make Dick hopeful. For it was just as likely that Hallo would shoot him if he decided to stay away from Semlin as that he would let him go.
But then there came just the interruption for which Dick had prayed. Ahead of them appeared half a dozen figures walking swiftly, at their head a smaller man or boy, his eyes on the ground. Dick's heart gave a leap.
"Into the field there!" said Hallo, with a growl.
Dick obeyed, scattering the last kernels of corn. And five minutes later a wild rush, led by Stepan Dushan, caught them. Once more the tables were turned, and Hallo was a prisoner for the third time that night!
Now there was plain sailing before them. The Servians were all armed, and they had proved that night, if it needed proof, that they had the sort of courage that enables a man to take the one chance of escape in a hundred when a desperate thing is to be done. No ordinary obstacle could possibly keep them from the boathouse now.
Relieved of his care of Hallo, Dick fell into step beside Stepan.
"You saved the day for us," said Stepan. "If you had not been there, he would have caught me—and he would have been in time to save the arsenal from destruction. That is going to prove the most important feat of the war, I do believe. There will be great news soon unless I am greatly mistaken. Now tell me of what happened after I left you."
"There isn't much to tell," said Dick. "He was clever enough to think that he might be followed and trapped me—but, after all, it was better so. I should have had to try to stop him if he had gone into a house, and the place might not have been so quiet and deserted as the one he chose."
Dick went on to tell of the strange walk that he and Hallo had taken, and Steve laughed heartily. But his face was grave when Dick had finished.
"It seems trifling enough now," he said, "but it was no laughing matter, Dick. You were in terrible danger all the time, of course, and anyone less cool and clear headed would never have come through so well. Having Hallo gives us a breathing spell. We may be able to use the boathouse still. If he had got away, even after the arsenal was blown up, we could never have used it. We may not have to. I think most of our work here in Semlin was finished to-night. Soon the armies in the field will be doing the work, and the time for the spies will have passed."
At the boathouse Milikoff joined them, his face glowing.
"All here? Not a man lost? That makes it so much the better!" he exclaimed, happily. "And—what? You have Hallo again? Welcome back, Hallo! This is splendid!"
"I think we had better get away," said Stepan. "After this business to-night, there will be a most searching examination, and it would be dangerous for any of us to stay here. We cannot carry many in the motor boat, but there will be time for her to make three trips, and that will be enough. I shall run her back first, and take my friend Dick Warner and Hallo. One other can come. You, Milikoff?"
"No. I shall go on the last trip," said Milikoff. "Let one of the men bring her back. It will be your part to see that Hallo is looked after in Belgrade."
So they ventured out into the yellow Danube again. This time the voyage promised to be more dangerous. The destruction of the arsenal had aroused all the forces defending Semlin to a high pitch, and searchlights danced incessantly about, winking first one way, then another. There was still a blaze of light at the confluence of the Save and the Danube, but more searchlights seemed to be in use, and the Austrians were not as perfunctory as they had been, but flashed them here, there, and anywhere.
However, Steve was a skillful handler of the swift little craft. Darting forward when the flashing of a light left a space dark, turning this way and that, coming almost to a full stop when the river ahead was suddenly lighted, he played hide and seek amid the great, flashing beams of light. And at last they were well beyond them, and could sweep across the river and come to the safe haven of the little wharf on the Servian shore.
A few explanations then, and Steve reluctantly turned over the boat he had guided so well to another, while he and Dick, with Hallo and one of the other men who had come with them, tumbled into a military automobile that was waiting. There was a swift rush to the citadel, where Steve turned over his prisoner.
"He's a slippery customer," Dick said, in warning.
"He won't get away from us," the officer promised.
And then—sleep! Sleep that was almost as welcome as it had been the night before or, rather, the morning before. For again they had been busy through all the hours of darkness, and it was daylight before they got to bed.
This time, when Dick awoke at last, Steve was still there, and he yawned luxuriously when Dick woke him up.
"Nothing to do to-day!" he said. "At least, nothing that I know of now! It's a real holiday, Dick. I can tell you it feels good, too. I wouldn't have missed the chance to do what I've been able to do for Servia, but I'm tired now."
"I should think you would be," said Dick. "You haven't only had to work hard, but there's been the chance always that you would be caught."
"I know. But I didn't think much about it, Dick. I was too busy. The chief danger was that Hallo would find me looking through his papers some time. He might not have suspected that I was a spy, but that would certainly have ended any chance there was for me to get more news."
They got up then, and enjoyed a great meal at their leisure, while old Maritza looked on and kept their plates full, and scolded Stepan for having caught cold the night before. She said he must have caught cold, because he was hoarse, and laughed at him when he said it was only because he had been so tired.
"You say there's nothing for us to do?" asked Dick.
"Yes, but I didn't mean it. There's plenty to do, only it's stupid compared to the sort of thing we have done. There are errands of all sorts to be run, and I believe that there is a good deal of help to be given to the poor people. It's mostly their houses that have been knocked about in the bombardment, you see. We don't have to do it, of course. The rest of the scouts here have been busy that way, and I'm excused from that sort of work because I was detailed to this special service. Still I think I'll lend a hand until there is more work for me from the Intelligence Department."
"When will that be, do you suppose?"
"Oh, there's no telling. It depends on the way the campaign runs. Now, for a time, it's all a question of how General Pushkin's plans work out. And he has two plans. Russia has declared war, and that means that Austria can't concentrate a great force against us. But the question is whether she will try to crush us before she turns against Russia, or whether she will just hold both Russia and Servia safe. If she throws a great army against us, General Pushkin won't risk a decisive battle. He'll go back into the hills and worry them until they have to detach troops for the other front. If the Russians begin coming down through the passes of the Carpathians into Hungary, you'll see the Austrians sending troops back to meet them in a hurry. It wouldn't make so much difference, from a military point of view, even if the Russians got to Buda-Pesth. But it would pretty nearly cause a revolution in Hungary, and a separate peace."
So when they had finished their meal, they went down toward the river. The desultory, useless bombardment was still going on, but it was not doing great damage, though it seemed to Dick that it was. A great many important buildings had been struck, and were in ruins, and in the lower quarters of the city there were plenty of evidences of war. But Steve pointed out that none of this could have any effect upon Servia's ability to hold out.
"It is all provided for in the plans of the general staff," he said. "As long as our field army is in good shape, they can hammer away at Belgrade as much as they like."
Some important work was still being done. Money and papers of value were being removed from the quarters where there was danger from the Austrian cannon, and scouts, who seemed to be numerous, were guarding the transfers. Others, whom Dick and Steve joined, were going through the unaffected parts of the city to find houses that had room for the poor people who had been driven from their homes by the enemy's fire. One spirit seemed to move all classes; there was a universal readiness to make sacrifices of any sort for the common good.
"We have room for one family of five," would be the greeting, as they knocked at a door, as soon as the inmates of the house saw Stepan's uniform, which Dick saw him wear for the first time that day.
So it went everywhere. Dick went to see the American consul, and told his story, and the official assured him that he would find a means of sending word of his safety to Consul Denniston in Semlin.
"I've got ways of sending such messages, of course," the consul explained. "They can't interfere with the messages of an American consul. I saw Mr. Denniston a little while before the bridge was destroyed, and he was quite worried about you. He'll be glad to know that you are safe so far. I suppose, by the way, that you are strictly neutral, as an American should be?"
Dick hesitated, and the consul roared with laughter.
"You don't have to answer that question!" he said. "I've got to be neutral, worse luck! But, even so, sometimes I think I'll resign, just so that I can take a chance with the side I'm on."
"Which side is that, sir?" asked Dick, innocently.
Once more the consul laughed.
"I refuse to answer!" he said. "You might send a report back to Washington and get me into trouble. But perhaps you can guess."
The times that followed were uneventful enough in Belgrade, though beyond the limits of the belabored Servian capital great things were happening. There were scenes of wonderful rejoicing when it became known that Russia had thrown herself to the aid of the little Slav state, and still more wonderful scenes when the Servians learned that England and France, as well, had been enlisted in their quarrel. They knew now that they would not be made again a sacrifice to the peace of Europe, and that Austria's attempt to bully them had precipitated the great war.
Closer at hand, however, was the actual fighting between the Servians and Austrians. On the Danube and the Save there were minor skirmishes. Servian forts fired on Austrian vessels. In the Save, near the wrecked bridge, a Servian mine destroyed an Austrian monitor. And along the line of the border there was constant skirmishing. Red Cross flags began to fly from many houses in Belgrade, and there was a constant stream of wounded men. Not many came at once, or in any one day, but every day saw some additions to the wounded who were being cared for.
"But this doesn't look like a real battle yet, Steve," said Dick. "These men have been wounded in outpost affairs, when at the most only a few hundred men were engaged on either side."
"Wait," said Stepan. "The great battles will come."
And come they did. The news came first from Schabatz, as a wild rumor. Belgrade was incredulous. The first reports were of a complete Servian victory, of Austrian troops in panic-stricken flight. It seemed too good to be true. But every hour not only confirmed these first reports, but added to them. The Austrians had not alone been beaten; they had been utterly routed, and were in full retreat in their own territory.
Then Servian victories came thick and fast. Even while batches of Austrian prisoners were being brought in, Servian troops in great strength followed, and there was a daring, magnificent raid across the Save, in which the Austrian monitors were driven out into the Danube and away by the terrific fire of the splendidly handled big guns of the Servians. For two or three splendid days Servian troops held Semlin, before the exigencies of the strategy of the campaign forced them to give up their prize and let the Austrians, now heavily reënforced, reënter their capital city.
"We couldn't stay, but we showed them what we could do, didn't we?" said Stepan, exultingly.
"Yes. But isn't there danger that they may come on now in great force?"
"They are sure to do that," said Stepan, his eyes burning brightly. "It is what we hope. Now the second stage of the campaign will begin. They have already sent great reënforcements into Bosnia, and the army that we and Montenegro sent against Serajevo has had to retire. Remember, Dick, we are not fighting this war alone. Russia is at war, too. It was our aim to compel the Austrians to withdraw many troops from Galicia and Bukowina and the passes of the Carpathians. Now they have done that, and we shall see. They are beginning to advance across the Drina toward Valjevo. We shall see soon what the result is to be."