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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:46 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:46 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12810-0.txt b/12810-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27b9516 --- /dev/null +++ b/12810-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6810 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12810 *** + +UNCLE SAM'S BOYS WITH PERSHING'S TROOPS +or +Dick Prescott at Grips with the Boche + + +By H. Irving Hancock + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTERS + I. Dick at Training Camp + II. Greg has to be Stern + III. Bad Blood Comes to the Surface + IV. As it is Done in the Army + V. The Camp Carpenter's Talk + VI. The Enemy in Camp Berry + VII. At Grips with German Spies + VIII. With the Conscientious Objectors + IX. Order for "Over There" + X. On Board the Troopship + XI. In the Waters of the Sea Wolves + XII. The Best of Details! + XIII. Off to See Fritz in His Wild State + XIV. The Thrill of the Fire Trench + XV. Out in No Man's Land + XVI. The Trip Through a German Trench + XVII. Dick Prescott's Prize Catch +XVIII. A Lot More of the Real Thing + XIX. A "Guest" in Prison Camp + XX. On a German Prisoner Train + XXI. Seeking Death More Than Escape + XXII. Can It Be the Old Chum? +XXIII. The Dash to Get Back to Pershing + XXIV. Conclusion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DICK AT TRAINING CAMP + + +His jaw set firmly, his keen, fiery eyes roving over the group +before him, the gray-haired colonel of infantry closed his remarks +with these words: + +"Gentlemen, the task set for the officers of the United States +Army is to produce, with the least possible delay, the finest +fighting army in the world. Our own personal task is to make +this, the Ninety-ninth, the finest regiment of infantry in that +army. + +"You have heard, at some length, what is expected of you. Any +officer present, of any grade, who does not feel equal to the +requirements I have laid down will do well to seek a transfer +to some other regiment or branch of the service, or to send in +his resignation as a military officer." + +Rising to their feet behind the long, uncovered pine board mess +tables at which they had sat listening and taking notes, the eyes +of the colonel's subordinate officers glistened with enthusiasm. +Instead of showing any trace of dissent they greeted their commanding +officer's words with a low murmur of approval that grew into a +noisy demonstration, then turned into three rousing cheers. + +"And a tiger!" shouted a young lieutenant, in a bull-like voice +that was heard over the racket. + +Colonel Cleaves, though he did not unbend much before the tumult, +permitted a gleam of satisfaction to show itself in his fine, +rugged features. + +"Good!" he said quietly, in a firm voice. "I feel assured that +we shall all pull together for the common weal and for the abiding +glory of American arms." + +Gathering up the papers that he had, during his speech, laid out +on the table before him, the colonel stepped briskly down the +central aisle of the mess-room. As it was a confidential meeting +of regimental officers, and no enlisted man was present, one of +the second lieutenants succeeded in being first to reach the door. +Throwing it open, he came smartly to attention, saluting as the +commanding officer passed through the doorway. Then the door +closed. + +"Good!" cried Captain Dick Prescott. "That was straight talk +all the way through." + +"Hit the mark or leave the regiment!" voiced Captain Greg Holmes +enthusiastically. + +"Be a one hundred per cent. officer, or get out of the service!" +agreed another comrade. + +The tumult had already died down. The officers, from Lieutenant-Colonel +Graves down to the newest "shave-tail" or second lieutenant, acted +as by common impulse when they pivoted slowly about on their heels, +glancing at each other with earnest smiles. + +"Gentlemen, our job has been cut out for us. We know the price +of success, and we know what failure would mean for us, personally +or collectively. Going over to quarters, Sands?" + +Thrusting a hand through the arm of Major Sands, Lieutenant-Colonel +Graves started down the aisle. Little groups followed, and the +mess-room of that company barracks was speedily emptied. + +Hard work, not age, had brought the gray frosting into the hair +of Colonel Cleaves; he was forty-seven years old, and not many +months before he had been only a major. + +The time was early in September, in the year 1917. War had been +declared against Germany on April 6th. In the middle of July +the Ninety-o-ninth Infantry had been called into existence. Regiments +were then being added to the Regular Army. Two or three hundred +trained soldiers and several hundred recruits had made up the +beginnings of the regiment. Prescott and Holmes had been among +the latest of the captains sent to the regiment, arriving in August. +And now Colonel Cleaves had just joined his command on orders +from Washington. + +With forty men in the headquarters company and some fifty in the +machine-gun company, the rifle companies on this September day +averaged about seventy men. Nor had a full complement of officers +yet arrived. + +Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes, lately first lieutenants, as readers +of former volumes of this series are aware, had received their +commissions as captains just before joining the Ninety-ninth. + +"This regiment is scheduled to go over at an early date," Colonel +Cleaves had informed his regimental officers, at the conference +of which we have just witnessed the close. "Headquarters and +machine-gun companies must be raised to their respective quotas +of men, and each rifle company must be increased from seventy +to two hundred and fifty men each. New recruits will arrive every +week. These men must be whipped into shape. Gentlemen, I expect +your tireless aid in making this the finest infantry regiment in +the American line." + +One or two glances at Colonel Cleaves, when he was talking earnestly, +were enough to show the observer that this officer meant all he +said. Shirkers, among either officers or men, would receive scant +consideration in his regiment. + +Camp Berry, at which the Ninety-ninth and the Hundredth were stationed, +lay in one of the prettiest parts of Georgia. Needless to say +the day was one of sweltering heat and the regimental officers, +as they filed out of the company barracks that had been used for +holding the conference, fanned themselves busily with their campaign +hats. Each, however, as he struck the steps leading to the ground, +placed his campaign hat squarely on his head. + +"Some pace the K.O. has set for us," murmured Greg, as he and +Dick started to walk down the company street. + +"And we must keep that pace if we hope to last in Colonel Cleaves's +regiment," Dick declared, with conviction. "Time was when an +officer in the Regular Army could look forward to remaining an +officer as long as he was physically fit and did not disgrace +himself. But in this war any officer, regular or otherwise, will +find himself laid on the shelf whenever he fails to produce his +full share of usefulness." + +"Do you think it's really as bad as that, Prescott?" demanded +Captain Cartwright, who was walking just behind them. + +"Worse!" Dick replied dryly and briefly. + +Cartwright sighed, then took a tighter grip on the swagger stick +that he carried jauntily in his right hand. Cartwright was a smart, +soldierly looking chap, but was well known as an officer who was +not addicted to hard work. + +Past three or four barrack buildings on the street the chums walked, +Cartwright still keeping just behind them. + +"Look at the work of Sergeant Mock, will you?" demanded Greg, +halting short as they came to the edge of one of the drill grounds. + +Mock belonged to Greg's own company. At this moment the sergeant +was busy, or should have been, drilling what was supposed to be +a platoon, though to-day it consisted of only two corporals' squads, +or sixteen men in all. + +Greg Holmes's eyes opened wide with disgust as he watched the +drilling, unseen by the sergeant. + +The platoon had just wheeled and marched off by fours. The cadence +was too slow, the men looked slouchy and showed no signs whatever +of spirit. + +"Perhaps the sergeant isn't feeling well," remarked Dick, with +a smile. + +"He won't be feeling well after he has talked with me," Greg uttered +between his teeth. + +To the further limit of the drill ground the sergeant marched +his platoon, then wheeled them and brought them back again. As +he came about the sergeant caught sight of his company commander. +In an undertone he gave an order that brought his men along at +greater speed than they had gone. + +"Halt!" ordered the sergeant, and brought up his hand in salute +to the officers. + +"Sergeant Mock," called Holmes, in a low, even voice, "turn the +men over to a corporal and come here." + +Hastily, and flushing, Sergeant Mock came forward. + +"How are the men feeling?" Greg inquired, after signaling the +corporal now in charge to continue the drilling. + +"Tired, sir," replied Mock, with a shamefaced look. + +"And how is the sergeant feeling?" Greg went on, as the corporal +led the men across the drill ground, this time at a sharper pace +and correcting any fault in soldierly bearing that he observed. + +"All right, sir," replied the sergeant. + +"Then, if you're feeling all right, Sergeant Mock," Greg continued +in as even a voice as before, "explain to me why you were marching +the platoon at a cadence of about ninety, instead of the regulation +hundred and twenty steps per minute. Tell me why the alignment +of the fours was poor, and why the men were allowed to march without +paying the slightest heed to their bearing." + +Though there was nothing at all sharp in the company commander's +voice, Mock knew that he was being "called," and, in fact, was +perilously close to being "cussed out." + +"The---the day is hot, sir, and---and I knew the men were about +played out," stammered Mock. + +"How long have you been in the Army, sergeant?" Greg continued. + +"About two years and a half, sir." + +"In all that time did you ever know officers or enlisted men to be +excused from full performance of ordered duty on account of the +weather?" + +"N-n-no, sir." + +"Then why did you start a new system on your own authority?" Greg +asked quietly. + +Mock tried to answer, opened his mouth, in fact, and uttered a +few incoherent sounds, which quickly died in his throat. + +"Sergeant Mock," said Greg, "we have just heard from our commanding +officer. He demands the utmost from every officer, non-com and +private. Are you prepared, and resolved, from this moment, to give +the utmost that is in you at all times?" + +"Yes, sir!" replied Mock with great emphasis. + +"You mean what you are saying, Sergeant?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very good, then," continued the young captain. "I am going to +take your word for it this time. But if I ever find you slacking +or shirking again, I am going to go to the colonel immediately and +ask him to 'break' you back to the ranks." + +"Yes, sir," assented Mock, saluting. + +"Are you fully familiar with all your drill work?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then remember that our enemies, the German soldiers, are men +who are drilled and drilled until they are perfect in their work, +and that their discipline is amazing. Keep the fact in mind that +we can hardly hope to whip our enemies unless we are at least as +good soldiers as they. That is all. Go back to your men, Sergeant." + +Standing stiffly erect, Sergeant Mock brought up his right hand +in a crisp salute, then wheeled and walked briskly back to join +his men. Greg turned as if to say that he did not feel the need +of remaining to watch the rebuked sergeant. + +"By Jove!" uttered Captain Cartwright. "I do wish, Holmes, you'd +come over and dress down some of my non-coms. I've been trying +for three days to put 'pep' into some of them, and the K.O. frowned +at me this morning." + +"Non-com" is the Army abbreviation for "non-commissioned +officers"---corporals and sergeants---while "K.O." is Army slang +for commanding officer. + +Arrived at an unpainted wooden barracks, in size and appearance +just like those of the enlisted men, the three captains entered +and walked up a flight of stairs to the floor above. Here they +passed through a narrow corridor with doors on both sides that +bore the cards of the officers who slept behind the respective +doors. Cartwright went to his own room, while Greg followed Dick +into the latter's quarters. + +Plain enough was the room, seven and a half feet wide and ten +feet in length, with a single sliding window at the front. Walls +and ceiling, like the floor, were of pine boards. There were +shelves around two sides of the room, with clothing hooks underneath. +Under the window was a desk, with a cot to one side; the rest +of the furniture consisted of two folding camp chairs. + +Entering, Dick hung up his campaign hat on one of the hooks, Greg +doing the same. On account of the heat of the day neither young +captain wore a tunic. Each unbuttoned the top button of his olive +drab Army shirt before he dropped into a chair. + +"What do you think of the new K.O.?" Dick asked, as he picked a +newspaper up from the desk and started to fan himself. + +"He means business," Greg returned. "I am glad he does," Dick +went on. "This is no time for slack soldiering. Greg, I'll feel +consoled for working eighteen hours a day if it results in making +the Ninety-ninth the best infantry regiment of the line." + +"Can it be done?" Greg inquired. + +"Yes." + +"But I've a hunch that every other regiment is striving for the +same honor," Captain Holmes continued. "Ours isn't the only K.O. +who covets the honor of commanding the best regiment of 'em all." + +"It can be done," Dick insisted, "and I say it must be done." + +"Yet other regiments would be so close to us in excellence that +it would be hard to name the one that is really best." + +"In that case we wouldn't have won the honor," Dick smilingly +insisted. + +"Then consider that fellow Cartwright," Greg added, lowering his +voice a bit. "He's a born shirker, and one weak company would make +a regiment that much poorer." + +"If Cartwright shirks, then mark my word that he'll be dropped," +Dick rejoined quickly. "But Greg, man, this is war-time, and +the biggest and most serious war in which we were ever engaged. +There must be no doubts---no ifs or buts. We must have a regiment +one hundred per cent. perfect. I'm going to do my share with +a company one hundred percent. good, even if I don't find time +for any sleep." + +Up the corridor there sounded a knock at a door. Something was +said in a low voice. Then the knock was repeated on Prescott's +door. + +"Come in!" called Dick. + +An orderly entered saluting. + +"Orders from the adjutant, sir," said the soldier, handing Prescott +a folded paper. He handed one like it to Greg, then saluted and +left the room, knocking at the next door. + +"Company drill from one to two-thirty," summarized Prescott, glancing +through the typewritten words on the unfolded sheet. "Practice +march by battalions from two-forty-five to three-forty-five. +Squad drill from four o'clock until retreat. That looks brisk, Greg." + +"Doesn't it?" asked Holmes, without too plain signs of enthusiasm. +"Company drill and the hike call for our presence, preferably, +and yet I've paper work enough to keep me busy until evening mess." + +"Paper work," so-called, is the bane of life for the company commander. +It consists of keeping, making and signing records, of the keeping +and inspection of accounts; it deals with requisitions for supplies +and an endless number of reports. + +"I have a barrelful of paper work, too," Dick admitted. "But +I'm going to see everything going well on the drill ground before I +go near company office." + +"All good things must end," grunted Greg, rising to his feet, "even +this rest. Mess will be on in eight minutes." + +The instant that the door had closed Dick drew off his olive drab +shirt, drew out a lidded box from under the bed and deposited +the shirt therein, next restoring the box to place bring out a +basin from under the bed and placing it on a chair, he found towel +and soap and busied himself with washing up. His toilet completed, +he took a clean shirt from a bundle on one of the neatly arranged +shelves and donned the garment. A few more touches, and, spick-and-span, +clean and very soldierly looking, he descended to the ground floor. +A glance into the mess-room showed him that the noon meal was not +yet ready, so be sauntered to the doorway, remaining just inside +out of the sun's rays. + +Other officers gathered quickly. A waiter from mess appeared at +the inner doorway, speaking a quiet word that caused the regiment's +officers, except the colonel and his staff, to file inside. + +Plain pine tables, without cloths, long pine benches nailed to +the floor---officers' mess was exactly like that of the enlisted +men, save that officers' mess was provided with heavy crockery, +while in the company mess-rooms the men ate from aluminum mess-kits. + +Most of the food was already in place on the table. The meal +began with a lively hum of conversation. Occasionally some merry +officer called out jokingly to some officer at another table; +there was no special effort at dignified silence. + +"The K.O. has our number!" exclaimed an irrepressible lieutenant. + +"How so?" demanded Noll Terry, Prescott's first lieutenant. + +"He knows us for a bunch of shirkers, and so he gave us the 'pep' +talk this morning." + +"Is the 'pep' going to work with you?" asked Noll laughingly. + +"Surely! I wouldn't dare be slow, even in drawing my breath, +after hearing the K.O. talk in that fashion." + +"Same here," Noll nodded. + +"I've been working sixteen hours a day ever since I hit camp," chimed +in another lieutenant. "What's the new system going to be? Eighteen +hours a day?" + +"Twenty, perhaps," said Greg's first lieutenant cheerfully. + +The meal had been under way for fifteen minutes when Captain Cartwright +entered leisurely. + +"I suppose you fellows have eaten all the best stuff," he called, +as he looked about and found a vacant seat, though he paused as +if in no great haste to occupy it. + +"Same old Cartwright," observed Greg, in an undertone to Dick. +"He's late, even at mess formation." + +But Cartwright heard, and wheeled about, looking half-angrily +at young Captain Holmes. + +"Say, Holmes, you're as free as ever with your tongue." + +"Yes," Greg answered unconcernedly. "Using it to taste my food, +and I've been finding the taste uncommonly pleasant." + +"You use your tongue in more ways than that," snapped Captain +Cartwright. "I happened to hear what you said about me in Prescott's +room a few minutes ago." + +"Eavesdropping?" queried Greg calmly. + +"What's that?" snapped Cartwright, and his flush deepened. "See +here, Holmes, I don't want any trouble with you." + +"That shows a lively sense of discretion," smiled Greg, turning +to face the other. + +"But I want you to stop picking on me. Talk about somebody else +for a change!" + +"With pleasure," nodded Greg, as he shrugged his shoulders and +turned to drop a spoonful of sugar in his second cup of coffee. +"There are lots of agreeable subjects for conversation in Camp +Berry." + +"Meaning---?" demanded Cartwright, still standing, and scowling, +for, out of the corners of his eyes, he saw that several of his +brother officers were smiling. + +"Meaning almost anything that you wish," continued Captain Holmes, +serenely, as he stirred his coffee. + +"Sit down, Cartwright," urged a low voice. "This is a gentleman's +outfit," declared another voice, perhaps not intended to reach +Cartwright's ears. But he heard the words and his mounting rage +caused him to take a step nearer to Greg, at the same time clenching +his fists. + +Greg, though he realized what was taking place, did not bother to +turn, but coolly raised his cup to his lips. + +"Sit down," called another voice. "You're rocking the boat." + +But Cartwright took a second step. It is impossible to say what +would have happened, but Dick Prescott, half turning in his seat, +caught the angry captain's nearer wrist in a grip of steel and +fairly swang Cartwright into a vacant seat at his left. Greg +was sitting at his right. + +"Don't be foolish, Cartwright, and don't let the day's heat go +to your head," Prescott advised. "Don't do anything you'd regret." + +Though Captain Cartwright's blood was boiling there was a sense +of quiet mastery in Prescott's manner and voice, combined with +a quality of leadership that restrained the angry man for the +next few seconds, during which Dick turned to a waiter to say: + +"This meat is cold. Bring some hot meat for Captain Cartwright, +and more vegetables. Try some of this salad, Cartwright---it's +good." + +Instantly the officers, looking eagerly on, turned their glances +away and began general conversation again, for they were quick +to see that Dick's usual tact was at least postponing a quarrel. + +"It will be a hot afternoon for drill, won't it?" Dick asked, +in the next breath, and in a low tone. + +"Maybe," grunted Cartwright. "But perhaps I shall find still +hotter work before the drill-call sounds." + +"Nonsense!" said Dick quickly. "After the K.O.'s talk this morning, +don't start anything that will take our mind off our work." + +"I've got to have a bit more than an explanation from Holmes," +the sulky captain continued, though in a low voice. + +"Cartwright," said Dick, in an authoritative undertone, "I don't +want you to start anything in that direction until you've had a +good talk with me!" + +There the matter ended for the moment. Dick joined in the general +conversation. Presently Cartwright tried to, but the officers +to whom he addressed his remarks replied either so briefly or +so coolly that the captain realized that he was not popular at +the present time. + +"Holmes will make trouble for any one who doesn't toady to him," +thought Captain Cartwright moodily. "I can see that I've got +to make it my business to take the conceit and arrogance out of him." + +At almost the same moment, over in a company barracks, Sergeant +Mock, as he chewed his food gloomily, was reflecting: + +"So Captain Holmes will call me down before a lot of officers, +will he? He'll order me to show more 'pep,' will he, the +slave-driver? And if I don't he'll break me, eh?" + +"Breaking" a non-commissioned officer is securing his reduction +to the grade of private. + +"The captain is so lazy himself that he doesn't know a good man +when he sees one," Mock told himself angrily. + +Then he added, threateningly to himself: + +"He'd better not try it. If he does, he'll sure wish he hadn't. +Since this war began even the officers are only on probation, and +I've brains enough to find a way to put him in bad with the +regimental K.O." + +"What's the matter, Mock, don't you like your food?" asked the +sergeant seated at his left. "You're scowling something fierce." + +"It isn't the chow," Sergeant Mock retorted gruffly. + +"Must be the heat, then---or a call-down," observed his brother +sergeant. + +"Never you mind!" retorted Mock. "And I'm not talking much now; +I want to think." + +"Must have been a real 'cussing-out' that you got," grinned the +other sergeant unconcernedly. + +Bending over a passing soldier murmured to Mock: + +"Top wants to see you in the company office when you're through +eating." + +The first sergeant of a company is also known, in Army parlance, +as the "top sergeant" or the "top cutter." + +Though he dawdled with his meal Mock did not eat much more. Finally +he rose, stalking sulkily from the mess-room and across the central +corridor. Thrusting out a hand he turned the knob of the door +of the company office and almost flung the door open, stepping +haughtily inside. + +"Mock," said First Sergeant Lund, looking up, "you're too old +in the service to enter in that fashion. You know, as well as +I do, that there is a 'knock' sign painted on the door, and that +only an officer is privileged to enter without knocking. Suppose +the captain had been in here when you flung in in that fashion?" + +"He's no better than any one else!" retorted Mock. + +Facing about in his chair Sergeant Lund briefly rested one hand +on his desk, then sprang to his feet. + +"Attention!" he commanded sharply. + +Mock obeyed, throwing his head up, his chest out and squaring his +shoulders as he dropped his hands straight along either trousers +seam, though he sneered: + +"Putting on officer's airs, are you, Lund?" + +"No; I appear to be talking to a rookie (recruit) who happens +to be wearing a sergeant chevrons," retorted the top sternly. +"Sergeant Mock, in this office, or anywhere in my presence, you +will refrain from making disrespectful remarks about your officers +And I'd advise you to adopt that as your standard at all times +and in all places. Do you get that?" + +"I hear you," Mock rejoined, standing at ease again. "You wanted +to see me?" + +"Yes. Shortly before recall sounded I looked out of the window +and noticed that you were handling the second platoon in anything +but a soldierly manner. I was about to come out and speak to +you when I observed the captain call you to him. He corrected +your method of handling the platoon, didn't he?" + +"He thought he did," Sergeant Mock responded, his lips quivering +"But the tone he took, or rather the words he said to me, aren't +the kind that make better soldiers of non-coms." + +"So?" demanded Sergeant Lund, looking sharply into his subordinate's +eyes. + +"No!" Mock snapped sullenly. "When an officer wants me to do +my best be's got to treat me like the gentleman that he's supposed +to be." + +For twenty seconds Sergeant Lund continued his staring at Mock. +Then he rested a hand heavily on the other's shoulder as he said: + +"Sergeant Mock, this is a man's army, training to do a nation's +share in the biggest war in history. None but a man can do a +man's work, and nothing but an army of real men can do the nation's +work. If you fit yourself into your place, work hard enough and +forget all about yourself except your oath to serve the Flag and +obey your officers, I believe that you can do a real man's work. +If you do anything different from that I'll knock your block off +without a second word on the subject." + +A hotly angry reply leaped to Sergeant Mock's lips, but he was +wise enough to choke it back. For Sergeant Lund, a real man, +a real soldier and a loyal American, stood before him regarding +him with a look in which there was no faltering nor any doubt as +to his intentions. + +"That's all, Sergeant Mock," said the top, an instant later. +"I'm going to keep an eye on you, and I want to be able to say +a word of praise to you this evening." + +"Two of a kind---the top and the company commander," Mock growled +under his breath as he went up the stairs to a squad room above. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GREG HAS TO BE STERN + + +A full minute before the bugler sounded the call Captain Dick +Prescott was on hand, standing in the shadow of the end of the +barracks of his company. Among other reasons he was there to +note the alacrity with which his men came out of the building. + +Before the notes of the call had died away most of the men of +his company were on hand, his lieutenants among the first. Within +saving time all the rest had appeared, except those who had been +excused for one reason or another. + +"A company fall in!" directed First Sergeant Kelly promptly. + +As the men fell in in double rank there were a few cases of confusion, +for some of the men were rookies who had joined only recently. + +"Sergeant Kelly, instruct the other sergeants to see to it that +each man knows his exact place in company formation," Dick ordered. + +"Yes, sir," replied Kelly. + +The corporals reported briskly the absentees, if any, in their +squads. The counting of fours sounded next after inspection of +arms. + +"A little more snap in answering when fours are counted," Dick +called, loudly enough for all the company to hear. "Let every +man call his own number instantly and clearly. For instance, +when one man has called 'two' let the man at his left call 'three' +without a second's delay. In the way of good soldiering this +is more important than most of you new men realize. Lieutenant +Terry!" + +"Sir," the first lieutenant responded, stepping forward, saluting. + +"Take the company. Drill in dressings, facings, the manual of +arms, wheeling and marching by twos and fours." + +Then, stepping to one side, Prescott let his gaze rove over the +company, from one file or rank to another. Everything that was +done badly he noted. Presently, when the men were standing at +ease he related his observations to Lieutenant Noll Terry, who +thereupon gave the company further instruction. + +Finally, when the company started across the drill ground in column +of fours, Dick walked briskly into the barracks building, going +to the company office, whither Sergeant Kelly had preceded him. +Kelly, and a corporal and private who were there on clerical duty, +rose and stood at attention as the captain entered. + +"Rest," Dick commanded briefly, whereupon the corporal and the +private returned to the desk at which they were working, while +Dick crossed to the sergeant's desk. Seating himself there he +gave close attention to the papers that Sergeant Kelly handed +him. Such as required signature Captain Prescott signed. Then, +for fifteen minutes, he busied himself with requisitions for clothing +and equipment. After that other papers required close attention. +Following that several matters of company administration had +to be taken up. Finally, Sergeant Kelly handed Dick a list on +which names had been written. + +"These seven men have applied for pass from retreat this afternoon +until reveille tomorrow morning," reported Dick's top. "I have +approved them, subject to your action." + +Reading quickly through the names, Prescott replied: + +"Give six of them pass, but refuse it to Private Hartley. This +forenoon I observed that he saluted officers very indifferently +when passing them, and once Hartley had to be spoken to by an +officer whom he did not see in time to salute him. In whose squad +is Hartley?" + +"In Corporal Aspen's, sir." + +"Then direct Corporal Aspen to take Hartley aside, at any time +suited to the corporal's convenience this evening. Have the corporal +drill Private Hartley at least twenty minutes in saluting, with, +of course, proper intervals for arm rest." + +"Yes, sir. May I offer the captain a suggestion?" + +"Yes." + +"Aspen will be corporal in charge of quarters to-night. Hartley +is sometimes a very slovenly soldier," Kelly reported. "May I +direct Corporal Aspen to keep Hartley up and give the instruction +in saluting after midnight? Corporal Aspen could take the man +into the mess-room where none of the men would be disturbed." + +"That sounds like a good idea," Dick nodded, smiling slightly. +"If he has to lose some of his sleep for instruction Hartley +may remember better. A soldier who offers his salutes in a slovenly +fashion is always a long way from being a really good soldier. +And, Sergeant, tell all the corporals that each will be held +responsible for drill and instruction of their squads in the art +of snappy saluting." + +Glancing at his wrist watch Prescott now noted that it was within +five minutes of time for the battalion practice march. Accordingly +he stepped outside. His lieutenants being already on the drill +ground he gave them brief directions as to the instruction to +be imparted on the hike and the deficiencies in the men's work +that were to be watched for. While he was still speaking the +bugler sounded assembly. + +Two or three minutes later the first battalion, under Major Wells, +marched off the drill ground in column of fours. + +As A company moved off at the head of the battalion some of the +non-coms called quietly: + +"Hip! hip! hip!" + +At each "hip" the men stepped forward on the left foot. A few +of the recruits still found difficulty in keeping step. + +"Let that third four close up!" ordered Lieutenant Terry briskly. +"Pay more heed to keeping the interval correctly." + +When the third four closed up those behind closed in accordance, +sergeants and corporals giving this matter close attention. + +As it was a practice march the men continued to move in step. +Company streets were left behind and the battalion moved on across +a field, where later a trench system was to be installed, out +past where the rifle ranges were already being constructed, and +then up the gradual ascent of a low hill from which a spread-out +view of the camp was to be had. On all the out-lying roads, at +this time, bodies of troops were to be seen marching in various +directions. At a distance these columns of men, clad in olive +drab, made one think of brown caterpillars moving slothfully along. +That was a distance effect, however, for the marching men did +not move slowly, but kept on at the regular cadence of a hundred +and twenty steps to the minute. + +In less than ten minutes after the start, with the rays of the +sun pouring down mercilessly on them, the soldiers began to perspire +freely. Another five minutes and it was necessary to brush the +perspiration out of their eyes. + +Assuredly the officers felt the heat as much. Yet from time to +time Captain Prescott fell out from his place at the head of the +company and allowed the line to march by, observing every good, +indifferent or bad feature of their marching, and correcting what +he could by low spoken commands. Whenever the last of the company +had passed Prescott ran along by the marching men until he had +gained the head. If the men suffered acute discomfort in marching +Prescott experienced more suffering in running under that hot +sun. But he was intent only on the idea of having the best company +in what he fondly hoped would turn out to be the best regiment +in the Army. + +For some minutes Greg had been aware that Sergeant Mock, of his +company, was hobbling along. Now, as he turned to glance backward, +he saw Mock step out of the ranks, go to the side of the road +and sit down. + +A glance at his wrist watch, and Greg saw that the first half-hour +was nearly up. In a minute or two more, he knew Major Bell would +give the order for a counter-march, and the first battalion would +swing and come back on its own trail. So Captain Holmes turned +and ran back to his non-commissioned officer. + +"What's the matter, Sergeant?" the young captain inquired pleasantly. + +Mock made as though trying to rise from the ground to stand at +attention, but his lips twisted as though he were in pain. + +"Rest," ordered Greg, "and tell me what ails you." + +"My feet are killing me, sir," groaned the sergeant. + +"That's odd," Captain Holmes commented. "You were all right at +assembly---lively enough then. Has half an hour of marching used +up a sound, healthy man?" + +Instantly the sergeant's look became surly. + +"All I know, sir, is that I could hardly stand on my feet. So +I had to drop out. If you'll permit it, sir, I shall have to +get back to camp the best way I can." + +"If you're that badly off I'll have an ambulance sent for you," +Greg went on. "But I don't understand your feet giving out so +suddenly. Take off one of your shoes and the sock." + +"That may not show much, but I'm suffering just the same, sir," +rejoined the non-com in a grumbling tone. + +"Let me see," Greg insisted. + +While the sergeant was busy removing a legging and unlacing a +shoe Captain Holmes glanced up the road to discover that the battalion +was counter-marching. + +"Be quick about it, Sergeant," Greg urged. + +Moving no faster than he had to, Mock took off his shoe, then slowly +turned the sock down, peeling it off. + +"Is that the worst foot?" Greg demanded, in astonishment. + +"I don't know, sir; they both hurt me." + +"Do you want to show me the other foot, or do you wish to get +back among the file closers?" + +"I---I can't walk, sir." + +Down on one knee went Greg, carefully inspecting the foot and +feeling it. The skin was clean, rosy, firm. + +"Why there isn't a sign of a blister," Captain Holmes declared. +"Nor is there an abrasion of any kind, or any callous. There +isn't even a corn. That's as healthy a doughboy foot as I've +seen. Dress your foot again, and put on your legging---_pronto_." + +A "doughboy" is an infantry soldier. "Pronto" is a word the Army +has borrowed from the Spanish, and means, "Be quick about it." + +"I'm not fit to march, sir," cried Sergeant Mock. + +"Either you'll be ready by the time B company is here, and you'll +march in, or I'll detail a man to remain here with you, and send +an ambulance for you. If I have to send an ambulance I'll have +you examined at the hospital, and if I find you've been faking +foot trouble then you shall feel the full weight of military law. +I'll give you your own choice. Which do you want?" + +Tugging his sock on, Mock merely mumbled. + +"Answer me!" Greg insisted sharply. + +"I---I'll do my best to march, sir." + +"Then be sure you're ready by the time B company gets here, and +be sure you march all the way in," Greg ordered sternly. He hated +a shamming imitation of a soldier. + +Major Bell and his staff came by at the head of the line, followed +by Prescott and A company. + +"Don't disappoint me, Sergeant," Greg warned his man. + +Though his brow was black with wrath Sergeant Mock stood up by +the time that the head of B company arrived. + +"Take your place, Sergeant," Greg ordered, and waited to see his +order obeyed, next running up to his own post. + +Ten minutes later, as a group of carpenters from the rifle range +paused at the roadside, Greg chanced to glance backward. He was +just in time to see Sergeant Mock limping out of the line of +file-closers to sit down at the roadside. + +His jaws set, Greg Holmes darted back. + +"That's enough of this, Mock," he called. "You can't sham in B +company. Your feet, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir," groaned the sergeant. + +"First two men of the rear four of B company fall out and come +here," Captain Holmes shouted. + +Instantly the two men detached themselves from the company and +came running back. + +"Fix your bayonets," Greg ordered. "Bring Sergeant Mock in at +the rear of the battalion. If he shirks, prod him with the points +of your bayonets. Don't be brutal, but make the sergeant keep +up at the rear of the battalion." + +"Sir-----" began Mock protestingly. + +"Quite enough for you, Sergeant Mock," Greg rapped out. "I'll +have your feet examined by a surgeon when you come in. Unless +the surgeon tells me that I'm wrong you may look for something +to happen!" + +As Greg turned and started to run back to the head of his company +he thought he heard a sound like a hiss. In his opinion it came +from some one in the group of carpenters, but he did not halt +to investigate. + +Though Mock limped all the way in, he came in exactly at the tail +of the battalion. As the last company halted on the drill ground +Sergeant Lund came back for him, relieving the guards. + +"Mock, until you've been examined," said the top, "you're not +to go beyond battalion bounds." + +"Am I in arrest?" demanded Mock, his face set in ugly lines. + +"You're confined within battalion bounds. Remember that," saying +which First Sergeant Lund turned and strode away. + +Nor was Mock a happy man. Holmes arranged that a regimental surgeon +should come over to B company barracks later and make a careful +examination of Sergeant Mock's feet. For some reason the surgeon +did not come promptly. The evening meal was eaten, and darkness +settled down over Camp Berry. Mock, still limping and looking +woeful, kept out in the open air. + +"Psst!" came sharply from somewhere, and Mock, turning, saw a +man in civilian garb standing in the shadow of a latrine shed. + +"Come here," called the stranger. Still surly, but urged by curiosity, +Mock obeyed the summons. + +"I don't want to be seen talking with you," murmured the stranger, +in a low voice, "but I want to offer you my sympathy. Say, but +a man gets treated roughly in the Army. That captain of yours---" + +As the stranger paused, looking keenly at Mock, the disgruntled +sergeant finished vengefully: + +"The captain? He's a dog!" + +"Dog is right," agreed the stranger promptly. "Will he do anything +more to you?" + +"I expect he'll bust me," said Sergeant Mock. + +To "bust" is the same as to "break." It means to reduce a non-com +to the ranks. + +"Are you going to stand it?" demanded the stranger. + +"Fat chance I'll have to beat the captain's game!" declared Mock +angrily. + +"But are you going to pay him back?" + +"How?" + +"Listen. I was in the Army once, and I don't like these officer +boys. Maybe I've something against your captain, too. Anyway, +keep mum and take good advice, and I'll help you to make him wish +he'd never been born." + +"Not a chance!" dissented Sergeant Mock promptly. "Captain Holmes +isn't afraid of anything, and besides he was born lucky. Besides +that, do anything to hurt him, and you've got Captain Prescott +against you, too, and ready to rip you up the back." + +"It's as easy to put 'em both in bad as it is to do it to either," +promised the stranger. "Now, listen. You-----" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BAD BLOOD COMES TO THE SURFACE + + +Later in the evening the surgeon came around. After examining +Sergeant Mock's feet for twenty minutes, and testing the skin as +well, he pronounced Mock a shammer. + +Mock was sent to the guard-house for twenty-four hours. The next +morning an order was published reducing the sergeant to the rank +of private. Yet, on the whole, the ex-sergeant looked pleased in +a sullen, disagreeable sort of way. He had listened to the stranger. + +Greg, however, had other troubles on his hands. After the noon +meal that day, as he was on his way to his quarters upstairs Captain +Cartwright passed him in the corridor. + +"I hear you're turning martinet," said Cartwright, with a disagreeable +smile. + +"Very likely," smiled Holmes, "but what are the specifications?" + +"I heard that you had a sergeant busted for having an opinion of +his own." + +"That's not so," Greg declared promptly. + +"Do you mean to tell me I'm a liar?" Cartwright asked flushing. + +"Did I understand you to charge me with preferring unjustifiable +charges against a sergeant in my company?" + +"I said I heard you had busted a sergeant for doing his own thinking," +the other captain insisted. + +"Cartwright, it's difficult for me to guess at what you're driving," +Holmes went on, patiently, "but I've already told you that I did +nothing of the kind that you allege." + +"That's calling me a liar again!" flamed Cartwright. + +"I'm sorry if it is," returned Greg coolly, and turned toward +his door. + +"You cannot call me a liar!" cried Captain Cartwright, taking +a quick step forward, his fists clenched. + +"Apparently I don't have to," scoffed Holmes. "You're eager to +claim the title for yourself." + +Up flew the other captain's fist. But just then a door opened +behind him, and Dick Prescott caught the uplifted fist in tight, +vise-like hold. + +"Don't do that, Cartwright," he advised. + +"Let me alone," insisted the other striving though failing to +release his captured wrist. + +"Don't do anything rash, Cartwright. Listen to good sense; then +I am going to let go of your wrist. If you were to strike Holmes +he would be practically bound to thrash you, or else to prefer +charges. In either case the matter would get before a court-martial. +My testimony, from what I overheard, would have to sustain Holmes." + +"You two would swear for each other anywhere and at all times," +sneered Captain Cartwright. + +This was hinting that Dick Prescott would be willing to perjure +himself, and Dick flushed, though with difficulty he kept his +patience. + +"I'm going to let go of you now, Cartwright," Prescott continued. + +As Dick let go of the captured wrist Captain Cartwright wheeled +and aimed a vicious blow at his brother officer's face. + +But Prescott's arm thrust up his adversary's. + +"Stop it, Cartwright!" + +Apparently the other could not control his anger. He aimed another +savage blow. Dick parried with a thrust, but this time his other +fist landed on Cartwright's chest with force enough to send him +staggering to a fall on the floor. + +At this moment a step was heard on the stairway. + +"Gentlemen! Stop this! What does it mean?" + +The voice was full of authority and outraged dignity. Colonel +Cleaves, his eyes flashing, stood before them. + +"Get up, Captain Cartwright," he commanded. "I must have an instant +explanation of this scene. Officers and gentlemen cannot conduct +themselves like rowdies." + +Captain Cartwright forced himself to smile as he saluted; he even +tried to look forgiving. + +"A little frolic, sir," he made haste to say, "that developed +into bad blood for the moment." I do not wish to prefer any charges." + +"Do you, Captain Prescott?" demanded the colonel. + +"No, sir." + +"You, Captain Holmes?" + +"No, sir." + +If any of the trio had hoped this much explanation would prove +satisfactory to the E.O. of the Ninety-ninth, that one had reckoned +without his host. + +"A misunderstanding that develops to the point of a knock-down +blow is never a trifling matter," declared Colonel Cleaves. "If +you gentlemen had assured me that it was all frolic then I would +have thought no more of it. But I have been assured that there +was a misunderstand---a quarrel that proceeded to blows. And +I myself saw one man down and signs of very evident anger on all +your faces. Gentlemen, do you wish to offer me any further explanation +at this moment?" + +"I have said all that I really can say, sir," protested Cartwright, +"except that I do not harbor any unkind feelings for what has +taken place." + +Steps were heard on the stairs, and other officers of the Ninety-ninth +came upon the scene. + +"As no charges have been preferred," said Colonel Cleaves, "I +will not order any of you relieved from duty. I will notify all +three of you, however, at a later hour, and will then hear you +all in my office. I trust a most satisfactory explanation all +around will be forthcoming." + +Colonel Cleaves then turned to the group of officers that had +just arrived, saying: + +"Lieutenant Terry, you were kind enough to offer to loan me a +book on rifle range construction. I am aware that you have not +yet had a chance to send it over to me, but as I was passing, +I decided to drop in and ask it from you." + +"In an instant, sir," replied Noll Terry. Saluting, he darted +down the corridor, opened his door and came back with the volume. + +"I am indebted to you, Mr. Terry," said Colonel Cleaves, returning +the first lieutenant's second salute and turning to go. + +Until they had heard the colonel go out upon the steps below the +entire group of younger officers stood as though spell-bound. +But at last one of them broke out with: + +"I hope nothing really nasty is afoot. Three of you look as though +the moon were clouded with mischief for some one." + +"You'll pardon us, won't you?" smiled Dick pleasantly, as he turned +to go back into his quarters. "You will realize, as we do, that +the first discussion of the matter should take place before the +commanding officer." + +Greg followed his chum in. + +"Oh it's nothing," they heard Captain Cartwright assure the others. +"It ought to blow over, and I hope it will. A certain officer +took what I thought too much liberty with me, and when I resented +it his friend took a hand in the matter. I hope we can set it +all straight before Colonel Cleaves." + +Behind the closed door, hearing what was said, Prescott turned +on his friend with eyebrows significantly raised. Greg nodded. +No word was spoken. + +Apparently Captain Cartwright also went to his quarters, for the +steps of many sounded outside, and then all was still. + +Prescott had picked up a book and was reading. Greg walked over +to the window and stood looking out into the sun-baked company +street. + +"I must go over to company office for an hour or so," announced +Captain Dick, glancing at his wrist watch and laying down his +book at last. "After that I'll go out and see how the platoon +commanders are getting along with their new work. I hear that +we're to have some drafts of new men to-morrow." + +"Yes," Greg nodded. "Recruits from Chicago, and also from Boston. +Some day we may hope to have our companies filled up to full +strength." + +"Small chance to get over to France until our companies are filled," +Prescott smiled, as he stood up, looked himself over and started +for the door. + +Captain Greg Holmes followed at his heels. No word was spoken +of the recent trouble with Cartwright, not even when they crossed +the road below and started for their respective company offices. + +Paper work engrossed Prescott's attention for an hour or so. +During this time he occasionally glanced up to note what was taking +place beyond the window in front of his desk. His four second +lieutenants were in command of the platoons to-day, instead of +sergeants. The young officers were instructing their men in the +first essentials of bayonet combat. + +The last piece of paper disposed of, Prescott at last arose, stretched +slightly, then strode out of the office to the drill ground. + +He was just in time to hear one of his lieutenants explaining to +a line of men: + +"When pursuing a retreating enemy one of the most effective thrusts +with the bayonet can be delivered right here. Learn to mark the +spot well." + +Half-turning, the lieutenant pointed to the spot in the small +of his own back, before he went on, impressively: + +"A bayonet thrust there will drive the blade through a kidney. +I will admit that that doesn't sound like sportsman-like fighting, +but unfortunately we're not to be employed against a really civilized +enemy in this war. Page, you will stand out. It isn't a popular +role to which I am going to assign you, but you will run slowly +past me and represent a fleeing enemy. Dobson, you will take +a blob-stick and chase Page, running just fast enough to overtake +him in front of me. Then you will give him the kidney thrust, +taking care to make your aim exact. Thrust with spirit, but do +not hit hard, even with the blob-stick, for Page is not a real +German." + +Though the men were perspiring uncomfortably, their officer's +pleasant conversational way and his interesting talk kept the +interest of these young soldiers. Private Page stepped out and +took post where the lieutenant indicated, prepared to begin running +away at the word of command. Private Dobson picked up a blob-stick, +a long, wand-like affair intended to represent a rifle and bayonet, +the bayonet's point being represented by a padded ball such as +is seen on a bass drummer's stick. + +"Go ahead, Page," commanded the lieutenant. "Kill him, Dobson! +. . . Good work! Any enemy, struck like that in earnest, could +safely be left to himself. Dobson, you be the fleeing enemy this +time. Aldrich, take the blob-stick." + +One after another the men of the skeletonized platoon took their +try with the blob-stick. As is usual in the run of human affairs, +some of the men made the thrust excellently, others indifferently, +and some missed altogether. + +"Rest," ordered the lieutenant, presently, and the men stood at +ease in the platoon line. + +"Some of you men do not get hold of this bayonet work as well +as I could wish," Dick spoke up, all eyes turned on him. "The +man who learns his bayonet work thoroughly has a reasonably good +chance of coming back from Europe alive. The man who learns it +indifferently has very little chance of seeing his native land +at the close of the war. Remember that. Bayonet fighting is +one of the things no American soldier can afford to be dull about. +Lieutenant Morris, if you will pick up a blob-stick we can show +these men some of the value of swift work in the simpler thrusts +and parries." + +Each armed with a blob-stick, captain and second lieutenant faced +each other. Dick, scowling as though facing an enemy whom he +hated, advanced upon his subordinate, making a swift, savage lunge +aimed at the other's abdomen. In a twinkling the thrust had been +parried by Lieutenant Morris, who, at close quarters, aimed a +vicious jab at his captain's wind-pipe. That, too, was blocked. +Warming up, the two officers fought without victory for a full +three-quarters of a minute. Then, at a word from Prescott, each +drew back. + +"Every one of you men, by the time you reach France, should be +able to fight faster and better than that," Dick announced. + +Down the line an infectious smile ran. It seemed to these soldiers +impossible that a more skillful or a swifter bit of combat work +could be put up than they had just witnessed. + +"You two men, at the right, bring your rifles here," Prescott +ordered, and the bayoneted rifles were brought and handed to the +two officers. + +"Now, Lieutenant Morris, the first four series, as fast as we +can go through them," Dick commanded. + +Bang! bump! flash! Rifle barrels rang as they crossed; butts +bumped hard against barrel or stock, and glittering steel flashed +in the sunlight as the two infantry officers advanced and retreated +in a savage, realistic contest. It really seemed as though Lieutenant +Morris and Captain Prescott were bent on annihilating each other. +Could this fierce, mutual onslaught be pretense---play? Then, +as the last move of the fourth series was executed the two infantry +officers jumped back a step each and dipped the points of their +gleaming blades by way of courtesy. The other three platoons +of the company had stopped drill to watch. How the thrilled men +of A company wished to applaud and cheer! + +"Lieutenant Morris and I are very poor hands at bayonet work, +compared with what we want you men to be when this regiment sails +for France," Prescott remarked, smilingly, as he handed back the +rifle to its owner. + +From that platoon Prescott passed on to others in his company, +offering a remark here and a word of instruction there. + +"You men must do everything to get your muscles up to concert +pitch," Captain Prescott announced. "No lady-like thrusts will +ever push a bayonet into a German's face. A ton of weight is +needed behind every bayonet thrust or jab!" + +An orderly approached, saluting. + +"Compliments of the commanding officer, sir, and he will see the +captain in his office at regimental headquarters, sir." + +Returning the salute Dick walked off the drill ground as though +he had nothing on his mind. Down the street he espied Greg, also +going toward headquarters, and hurried after him. On the other +side of the street was Captain Cartwright, who soon crossed over +to join them. + +In silence, the three captains made their way along the street +until they reached regimental headquarters. It was a low one-story +pine shed, with the colonel's office at one end, the adjutant's +office next to it, and beyond that the rooms occupied by the sergeant +major and his clerical force, and, last of all, the chaplain's +office. + +None of the three captains was exactly at ease as they entered the +adjutant's office and reported. + +"The commanding officer will see you at once," said the adjutant. +"Pass through into his office." + +Colonel Cleaves, glancing up from his desk, gravely returned the +salutes of his three captains. + +"Be good enough to close the door into the adjutant's office, +Captain Holmes," directed the K.O. "Now, gentlemen, I will hear +whatever explanation you have to offer of a very remarkable scene +that I came upon this noon." + +All three waited, to see if one of the others wished to speak +first. After waiting a moment or two Colonel Cleaves asked: + +"Captain Prescott, it was you who struck the knock-down blow, +was it not?" + +"Yes, sir," Dick answered promptly, "though it followed a parry, +and was more of a thrust than a blow." + +"You agree to that, Captain Cartwright?" quizzed the K.O. + +"Essentially so, sir." + +"There had been a quarrel, had there not?" + +"I made a reply to a remark by Captain Cartwright, sir," Greg +supplied, "which, he felt justified in construing as offensive, +though I did not so intend it. I was annoyed at what I felt to +be an insinuation. Then Captain Prescott came out of his quarters, +sir, and caught Captain Cartwright's wrist. When Captain Prescott +released it, Captain Cartwright struck at him. The blow was parried, +and Captain Cartwright struck once more. That blow was also parried, +and Captain Cartwright went to the floor." + +"Do you concur in that, Captain Cartwright?" asked the K.O. + +"Yes, sir." + +"By the way, Captain Prescott," went on Colonel Cleaves, handing +him a small piece of paper, "can you account for this?" + +As Dick Prescott took the paper and glanced at it he felt himself +turning almost dizzy in bewilderment. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AS IT IS DONE IN THE ARMY + + +"That is your handwriting, is it not, Captain Prescott?" demanded +the regimental commander. + +"It looks just like my handwriting, sir, but I'll swear that I +never wrote it," declared astonished Dick, still staring at the +little piece of paper. + +"Yet it resembles your handwriting?" + +"Yes, sir. If I didn't know positively that I didn't write any +such message then I'd be about ready to admit that it is my handwriting. +But I didn't write it, sir." + +"Pass it to Captain Holmes. I will ask him if he has seen this +note before." + +"No, sir," declared Greg, very positively, though he, too, was +startled, for it was hard to persuade himself that he was not +looking down at his chum's familiar handwriting. + +The note read: + +_"Dear H. Stick to what we agreed upon, and we can cook C's goose +without trouble. P."_ + +"May I speak, sir?" asked Dick. + +"Yes, Captain." + +"Then I desire to say, sir, that I have not the least desire to +see Captain Cartwright in any trouble. Hence, it would have been +impossible for me to think of writing such a note. More, sir, +it would have been stupid of me to risk writing such a note, for +Captain Holmes and I sat in my quarters until it was time for +us to leave on our way to our respective company offices." + +"And while in your quarters did you discuss this affair of your +trouble with Captain Cartwright?" + +"To the best of my recollection, sir, we did not mention it," Dick +declared. + +"Is that your recollection, Captain Holmes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And this is not your handwriting, Captain Prescott?" + +"I give you my word of honor, sir, that I did not write it, and +did not even discuss the matter with Captain Holmes." + +"I do not understand this note in the least," Colonel Cleaves +went on. "Of course, Captain Prescott, I am bound to accept your +assurance that you did not write this. I do not know how the +note came here; all I know about it is that I found it on my desk, +under a paper weight, about fifteen minutes ago, when I came in." + +"It is the work of some trouble-maker, sir," Greg ventured. + +"Do you know anything about this note, Captain Cartwright?" + +"No, sir," replied that officer, flushing at the intimation that +he could have had anything to do with it, for Greg had passed +the paper to him. + +"I will keep that note, then," said Colonel Cleaves, taking it, +"in the hope that I may later find out how it came to be here. +Captain Cartwright, do you deny that Captain Prescott did no +more than to parry your blows and thrust you back off your balance?" + +"That was all he did, sir." + +"And you made two distinct efforts to hit him?" + +"Y-y-yes, sir." + +"Was anything said that, in your opinion, justified you in attempting +to strike a brother officer?" + +"At the time I thought Captain Holmes had justified my attempt to \ +strike him." + +"Do you still think so?" + +"N-no, sir. I was undoubtedly too impetuous." + +"And you attempted to strike Captain Prescott only because he +tried to restrain you from striking a brother officer?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is there anything more to be said or explained by any of you +gentlemen?" + +"Nothing, sir," came from three pairs of lips. + +"Then, since none of you wishes to prefer charges," pursued Colonel +Cleaves, "I will say that the whole affair, as far as it has been +explained to me, looks like a childish quarrel to have taken place +between officers and gentlemen. On the statements made to me, +I will say that I believe that Captain Cartwright was most to +blame. I therefore take this opportunity to rebuke him. Captain +Prescott, of course, you understand that I accept your assurance +that you did not write the note I showed you. Keep the peace +after this, gentlemen, and make an honest effort to promote +brotherliness of spirit with all the officers of the service, and +especially of this regiment. That is all." + +Saluting, the three captains stepped out into the sunlight. The +sentry pacing on headquarters post swung his rifle from shoulder +arms down to port arms, then came to present arms before the officers, +who acknowledged his formal courtesy by bringing their hands up +smartly to the brims of their campaign hats. + +"Well, that's over!" announced Cartwright, in a tone of relief. + +"And will never be repeated," said Greg. + +"But you will admit, Holmes, that you've picked a good deal on me, +from time to time," Cartwright pressed, in a half-aggrieved tone. + +"I will admit, for you both," smiled Dick, "that you're in danger +of starting something all over again unless you shut up and make +a fresh, better start. So we won't refer to personal matters +again, but we come to your company's barracks first, Cartwright, +and when we get there we will shake hands and agree to remember +that we're all engaged in a fierce effort to make the Ninety-ninth +the best American regiment." + +In silence the three pursued their way to C company's building. +Here they halted. + +"To the Ninety-ninth, best of 'em all," proposed Prescott, holding +out his hand to Cartwright, who took and pressed it. + +"To the best officers' crowd in the service," quoth Greg. + +"Amen to that!" assented Cartwright, though he strode away with +a dull red flush burning on either cheek. + +Half an hour later Dick's business took him past the regiment's +guard-house. As carpenters were everywhere busy in camp putting +up more necessary buildings the place officially known as the +guard-house was more of a bullpen. Posts had been driven deeply +in the form of a rectangle, and on these barbed wire had been +laid to a height of nine feet. Within the rectangle guard-house +prisoners could take the air, retiring to either of two tents +inside the enclosure whenever they wished. + +As he passed Dick noted, vaguely, that four or five men stood by +the nearer line of barbed wire fence. He held up his left hand +to glance at his wrist watch. Just as he turned the hand, to let +it fall at his side, something dropped out of the air, falling +squarely in his hand. Instinctively Prescott's fingers closed +over the missile. He glanced, quickly, at the enclosure, but not +one of the men on the other side of the wire was looking +his way. + +Then the young captain, keeping briskly on his way, opened his +hand to glance down at his unexpected catch. It was a piece of +manila paper, wrapped around a stone. + +Waiting only until he was some distance from the bull-pen, Dick +unwrapped the paper. + +In printed characters, used undoubtedly to disguise handwriting, +was this message: + +"Watch for all you're worth the carpenter who talks with Mock!" + +"Now, why on earth should I interest myself in the affairs of +Greg's busted sergeant?" Dick wondered. "And what possible interest +can I have in any carpenter unless he's a friend of mine, or has +business with me?" + +On the whole Prescott felt that he was lowering his own dignity +to attach any importance to an anonymous message, plainly from +a guardhouse prisoner. Yet he dropped the small stone and thrust +the scrap of paper into a pocket for future consideration should +he deem it worth while. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE CAMP CARPENTER'S TALE + + +After a week of exacting office work and all but endless drill, Dick +had the rare good fortune to find himself with an evening of leisure. + +"Going to be busy to-night?" Dick asked Greg at the evening meal +at mess. + +"Confound it, yes," returned Captain Holmes. "I must put in the +time until midnight with Sergeant Lund going over clothing +requisitions for my new draft of men." + +"My requisitions are all in, and I expect the clothing supplies +to-morrow morning," Dick continued. + +"That is because you got your draft of new men two days earlier than +I did," grumbled Greg. "You're always the lucky one. But what are +you going to do to-night that you want company?" + +"I thought I'd like to take a walk in the moonlight," Dick responded. + +"Great Scott! Do you mean to tell me you don't get enough walk +in the daytime in the broiling sunlight?" + +"Not the same kind of walking," Prescott smiled. "I want to stroll +to-night and talk. But if I must go alone, then I shall have +to think." + +"Don't attempt hard work after hours," advised Holmes. + +"Such as walking?" + +"No; thinking." + +Dick finished his meal and stepped outside in the air. The first +to join him was Lieutenant Morris. + +"Feel like taking a walk in the moonlight?" Dick asked. + +"I'd be delighted, Captain, but to-night I'm officer in charge +at the company barracks." + +"True; I had forgotten." + +Other officers Dick invited to join him, but all had duty of one +kind or another, or else home letters to write. + +"Did I hear you say you were going to take a walk, Prescott?" +asked Major Wells. + +"Yes, sir. By any great good luck are you willing to go with me?" + +"I'd like to, Prescott, but as it happens there is the school +for battalion commanders to-night. A talk on trench orders by +the brigadier is listed, I believe." + +"I'm afraid I shall have to go alone," sighed Dick "Yet I've half +a mind to stroll over to company office and invent some new paper +work. With every one else busy I feel like the only slacker in +the regiment." + +"If you really go alone," suggested the major, "perhaps you could +combine pleasure with doing me a favor." + +"How, sir?" + +"My horse hasn't had any exercise for three days. I'd be glad +if you'd take him out tonight, if it suits you." + +"Nothing could please me better, sir," Dick cried eagerly, for he +dearly loved a horse. + +"How soon will you be ready?" + +"At once, Major." + +"Then I'll send around now for the horse." Just a few minutes +later an orderly rode up, dismounted, saluted and turned the saddled +animal over to A company's commander. + +"This is luck, indeed!" Dick told himself, as he felt the horse's +flanks between his knees and moved off at a slow canter. "I wonder +why I never tried to transfer into the cavalry." + +While waiting for the horse he had telephoned the adjutant, stating +that for the next three hours he would be either in camp or in +the near vicinity. + +After being halted by three outlying sentries Prescott rode clear +of the camp bounds, riding at a trot down a moonlit country road. +Vinton was the nearest town, where soldiers on a few hours' pass +went for their recreation out of camp. The road to Vinton was +usually well sprinkled with jitney busses conveying soldiers to +or from camp, so Prescott had chosen another road which, at night, +was likely to be almost free of traffic of any kind. + +"As this is the first evening I've had off in three weeks I don't +believe I need feel that I'm loafing," Dick reflected. "It's +gorgeous outdoors to-night. There will undoubtedly be plenty +of moonlight in France, but there won't be many opportunities +like this one." + +Finding that his horse was sweating, Dick slowed the animal down +to a walk. He had ridden along another mile when, near a farmhouse +he espied a soldier in the road, strolling with a young woman. + +As the horse gained upon the young couple the soldier glanced +backward, then swung the girl to the side of the road and halted +beside her, drawing himself up to attention and saluting smartly. +The man was Private Lawrence of his own company. + +"Good evening," Dick nodded, pleasantly. + +"Good evening, sir," replied the private. + +Dick didn't ask, as some officers would have done, whether the +soldier had pass to be out of camp. He could ascertain that on +his return to camp. Instead, he said: + +"You must have this road pretty nearly to yourself, Lawrence, +as far as soldiers go." + +"There's at least one other, sir," the soldier replied, in a matter +of fact way. "I saw one slip by in the field, close to the road. +I won't be sure, but I think it was Private Mock, sir." + +"He has friends down this way?" Dick asked casually. + +"Not that I ever heard of, sir. There aren't many houses on this +road. My friend, Miss Williams, lives in the house up yonder." + +At the implied introduction Prescott raised his campaign hat, +then rode on. + +The instant that Mock's name had been mentioned it had flashed +through Dick's mind that, when in Greg's office that afternoon, +he had seen Mock's name on Top Sergeant Lund's list of men for +pass, and Greg, he knew, had drawn a pen line through that name. + +"Of course it may not have been Mock that Lawrence saw; Lawrence +himself wasn't sure," Dick reflected. "Yet, if Mock is out of +camp to-night he is out without leave. Private Lawrence didn't +realize that, or he wouldn't tell tales." + +Soon the horse began to move along an up grade road between +two lines of trees. Finding that the animal, instead of drying +off, was sweating more freely, Dick drew rein and dismounted. + +"It's hard work on a hot night, so you and I will walk together +for a while, old pal," Dick confided to the borrowed mount. "There, +you find it easier, don't you?" + +As if to express gratitude the horse bent its head forward, rubbing +against Dick's shoulder. + +"Who says horses can't talk plainly, hey, old fellow?" Dick demanded. +On together they walked, until Prescott felt himself perspiring, +while the horse's coat grew dry. + +"There, now, friend," said Dick, running a hand over the creature's +flanks, "you're cool and dry, and this is one of the prettiest +spots in Georgia, so I reckon I'll tie you and rest until I, too, +am dry again." + +Having tied the horse by the bridle reins, Dick strolled about, +enjoying the dark and quiet after the bright electric lights and +the bustle of camp. Presently he strolled down the road until +he came to a break in the trees on his right. Though the moon +had gone partly behind a cloud Dick found himself gazing down +a clearing. He would not have been interested, had it not been +that he caught sight of the unmistakable silhouette of a soldier, +and, beside him, a somewhat stoop-shouldered man in darker garb. + +"Why, I wonder if that can be Mock, and his carpenter?" reflected +Prescott, recalling the note that had dropped so mysteriously +into his extended palm. + +Screened behind a bush Dick watched the pair until he saw them +coming toward the road. Then Prescott drew back, finding better +shelter, but he did not seek complete concealment. It occurred +to him to wait there, in silence, and see if Private Mock displayed +any uneasiness on coming face to face with his captain's chum. + +"That will be a good way, perhaps, to test out the note," Prescott +decided. + +Though the two men appeared to be talking earnestly, only a mumble +of voices reached Dick's ears when the men were no more than thirty +feet away. Then they stepped into the road, where they halted +hardly more than a dozen feet away from the screened captain. + +"It's a pity you wouldn't have your nerve," said the stranger, +to Mock. "You tell me you hate your captain." + +"Wouldn't you, if he had treated you like he treated me?" demanded +Mock heatedly. + +"Surely I would," agreed the stranger. + +"And there's Holmes's friend, that fellow Prescott, who, he, you +say, would spend all his time looking into anything that happened +to Holmes. You could settle with them both, and then there'd +be no one left to worry about." + +"Say, just what are you thinking of doing to 'em?" demanded Mock, +in a tone of uneasy suspicion. + +"There are two things that could be done to them," continued the +civilian. "One would be to put them out of the way altogether, and +the other would be to bring disgrace upon them so that they'd be +kicked out of the Army. That would break their hearts, wouldn't it?" + +"Yes," muttered Mock, "but you're talking dreams, neighbor. I'm +no black-hander, to creep up behind them with a knife, or take +a pot shot at them. I'm not quite that kind, neighbor, and it +couldn't be done, anyway." + +"You could put 'em out of the way, and no one would be the wiser," +hinted the stranger. + +"How?" + +"I'll show you, when I'm sure enough that you're game," declared +the civilian. "I'd have to be sure you had the nerve." + +"I haven't," admitted Private Mock. + +"Do you know, I began to think that before you admitted it?" sneered +the other. + +"Not the way you mean," flared up the ex-sergeant. "I can be +mean in order to get square with a mean officer. But I can get +along without putting him under the sod. I'm a good hater, but +my mother didn't raise me to be a real crook." + +"You're a quitter, I guess," jeered the other. "Anyway, if you +claim to be a man of sand you'll have to show me." + +"And I guess it's about time that you showed me something, too," +challenged Mock, looking furtively at the stoop-shouldered man. + +"I'm ready enough to show you a whole lot of things, when I find +out that you're man enough to stand up for yourself and pay back +those who treat you like dirt," retorted the other. + +"There's one thing you can show me, first of all," challenged Mock. + +"Yes? What?" + +"Show me why you're so anxious to have harm happen to Captain +Holmes and Captain Prescott." + +"Because I like you; because I'm a friend of yours," returned +the stoop-shouldered one. + +"You're a pretty new friend," Mock went on. "I never saw you +until that day when the captain caught me shirking and told off +two men to prod me back into camp." + +"That was the time for you to know me," declared the other brazenly. +"That was the time when you needed a friend to show you how to get +square like a man instead of like a coward and a quitter." + +"Be careful with your names!" commanded Mock harshly. "Say, Mr. +Man, who are you, and what are you?" + +"Private Mock, I believe I can answer that question for you!" broke +in Captain Dick Prescott, stepping out from behind his leafy screen. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ENEMY IN CAMP BERRY + + +"Captain Prescott!" uttered Mock, starting back in dismay. + +"Donner und blitzen!" (thunder and lightning) ejaculated the +stoop-shouldered one. + +"The fellow has just answered your question for you," Dick went +on, pointing an accusing finger at the stranger. "You know what +language he was betrayed into using just now." + +"German, sir," said Mock. + +"That's right," nodded Prescott. + +"Is he one of them Kaiser-hound spies, sir?" demanded Mock, stung +to wrath and throwing grammar to the winds. "Why, I've dreamed +of catching one and tearing him to pieces. With your permission, +sir-----!" + +Not stopping to finish Mock threw himself upon the stoop-shouldered +one, But that worthy had foreseen it, and adroitly stopped the +ex-sergeant with a blow on the end of the nose that dazed him for +an instant. + +"I'll take care of him, Mock!" cried Captain Dick, leaping forward. +As he did so the stranger turned and fled. No longer stoop-shouldered, +but bearing himself like an athlete, the unknown turned and darted +away, Prescott racing after him. + +"Get back!" warned the fugitive, drawing an automatic revolver and +flourishing it over his head. + +Though unarmed, save for his fists, Prescott continued to pursue +with all speed. After both of them raced Private Mock. + +Dick was gaining when he stepped on a round stone, slipped and +fell. Mock dashed after him. The fleeing German halted long +enough to hurl the automatic pistol at Mock's face, then turned +and ran on. Naturally the soldier dodged the missile, which struck +the ground behind him. Thinking the weapon might be useful, Mock +halted, then ran back and secured the pistol, after which he started +to give chase. But the fugitive had vanished in the darkness. + +"Come back here and surrender, before I shoot," bluffed Mock, but +the German did not answer. + +To Mock's intense astonishment Dick reached over, snatching the +pistol from his hand. + +"That will be about all, Private Mock," said Prescott sternly. +"You've bluffed your part well, and helped your friend to escape, +but at all events I've got you!" + +"Do you---" began the soldier, but stopped, further words failing +him. Dick gripped the man's arm, giving a significant pressure +before he said: + +"You'll come along with me, Mock, and it will be worse for you +if you try any further monkey-shines with me." + +He gave another pressure on Mock's arm as he finished. Without +a word Mock walked with him to where the horse was tied. + +"Untie that bridle and buckle the ends together," Dick ordered. + +This done, the captain mounted, taking the bridle in his left +hand, retaining the automatic pistol in his right. + +"March ahead, Mock. Don't try to bolt unless you want me to shoot." + +In this manner they proceeded back over the road. Mile after +mile they covered, meeting no one until they had come in sight +of the camp, nestling in the broad valley below. + +At this point such an extensive view could be had that Dick felt +sure there was no eavesdropper. So he dismounted, calling the +soldier to him and asking in a whisper: + +"Mock, you were simply a poor, shirking soldier, weren't you? +You are, at heart, loyal to your country's Flag, aren't you?" + +"I'd die for the Stars and Stripes, sir!" Mock declared, in a voice +choked with emotion. + +"But I felt tired, the other day, and I got a notion Captain Holmes +was down on me. So I went bad and got busted. Then I hated Captain +Holmes, sir, and ached for a chance to get square with him. Then +that accursed carpenter fellow hunted me out, talked with me, +and made me think he was my friend. If I had known he was a +Kaiser-hound I'd have split his head open at the first crack out +of the box." + +"I didn't doubt you as a loyal man, Mock," Dick continued, in +a whisper. "I spoke to you the way I did back on the road because +I was sure the fellow was near and listening. I didn't care much +about catching him to-night because I hope to catch him later on, +and get him even more red-handed. Mock, you're loyal, and I'm +going to put your loyalty, if you consent, to a hard, bitter test." + +Dick went on in an even lower tone, Mock listening in growing +astonishment, without replying a word, though he nodded +understandingly. + +"So, now," Prescott wound up, "I'm going to continue into camp with +you still a prisoner and be mighty hard on you. However, I won't +hold the pistol on you any longer." + +Into camp Dick marched the soldier, then over toward the buildings +of the Ninety-ninth, and thence along to the bull-pen. + +"Sergeant of the guard!" Prescott called briskly, and that +non-commissioned officer appeared. + +"Take charge of Private Mock as a prisoner, charged with being +absent from camp without leave or pass," Dick ordered. "I will +report my action to Captain Holmes, who will dispose of his case." + +From there Dick led the horse back to B company barracks, turned +the animal over to an orderly and went into the company office, +where, as he had expected, he found Greg immersed in a grind of +paper work. For a few minutes Dick talked earnestly with his chum +in low tones, Captain Holmes frequently nodding. + +"And now, I think I had better go down to the adjutant's office, +to see if he's still at his desk," Dick finished, "and, if so, make +my report." + +"You'll stagger him," Greg predicted. + +One of Greg's orderlies had already ridden the major's horse to +the stable, so Prescott walked briskly along the street until +he came to regimental headquarters. As he entered the adjutant's +office he found Colonel Cleaves seated on the corner of his +subordinate's desk, in low-toned conversation with his subordinate. + +"Am I intruding, sir?" Dick inquired, saluting the colonel. + +"No," said Colonel Cleaves. "In fact, Captain, you may as well +know the subject-matter of our conversation. Captain Prescott, +this camp would appear to be infested with German spies! This +evening sixteen men in F company were taken ill after supper. +They are now in hospital and some of them are expected to die. +The surgeons have examined some of the food left over from that +supper and report finding ground glass in some pieces of the apple +pie served as dessert. Later the captain of our machine-gun company, +which has only one machine gun so far, had the piece taken into +the company mess-room to demonstrate the mechanism to his lieutenants +so that they might instruct the men. He found the mechanism of +the piece so badly jammed that the machine gun refused to work. +I have inspected that piece, and in my opinion the gun is ruined. +As if that were not enough sixteen rifles belonging to G company +have been found with their bolts broken off. It is very plain +that German spies and sympathizers are at work in Camp Berry, +and the scoundrels must be found, Captain." + +Colonel Cleaves spoke under the stress of great excitement, his +eyes flashing, the corners of his mouth twitching. + +Dick went to the door, then to the doors opening into the rooms +on either side. Then he came back, saying in a low voice: + +"Colonel, I met one of the German spies tonight. Perhaps the +ring-leader. If I see him again I shall recognize him and arrest +him instantly. Do you see what this is, sir?" + +Dick held up the weapon that the carpenter had hurled at Private +Mock. + +"It is a 45-caliber, United States Government automatic pistol," +said Colonel Cleaves. + +"Exactly, sir; and the spy I have mentioned had it in his possession. +How he obtained it, I do not yet know, but I hope to find out. And +now, sir, I will tell you what happened and what action I took." + +Thereupon Captain Dick Prescott narrated the amazing adventure +of the evening, winding up with: + +"So, sir, I have placed Private Mock in arrest at the guard-house, +and through his detention there I hope to gain the clues that shall +lead us to the ferreting out and arrest of the whole crew of German +spies at Camp Berry!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AT GRIPS WITH GERMAN SPIES + + +New barracks buildings continued to spring up at Camp Berry. Drafts +of men for a National Army division began to arrive, besides +a brigade of infantry, a regiment of field artillery and a +machine-gun battalion of regulars. + +Brigadier-General Bates arrived to take command of the regulars, +while Major-general Timmins assumed command of the National Army +division and became commanding general of the camp as well. + +New batches of recruits, constantly arriving for the regulars, +soon gave the Ninety-ninth an average of a hundred and eighty +men to the company, or forty-five men to each platoon. Drill +went on as nearly incessantly during daylight as the men could +endure. + +"In my opinion it won't be very long before the Ninety-ninth goes +over and reports to General Pershing," Dick told his chum. "At +the rate our ranks are being filled up we'll soon have a full-strength +regiment." + +"But most of our men are still recruits," Holmes objected. The +regiment really isn't anywhere near fit for foreign service." + +"It won't be so many weeks before we're ordered abroad," Dick +insisted. "Wait and see whether I'm right." + +Wonderful indeed was the speed with which buildings were erected. +The record time for constructing a two-story building with an +office, supply room, mess-room and sleeping quarters for two hundred +and fifty men was ninety minutes! + +Fast, too, was the work done by the Regular Army regiments, which +had this advantage over the National Army regiments, that most of +their officers were trained regulars and a large proportion of them +West Point graduates. + +Of the sixteen men made ill by eating powdered glass not one died, +for the glass had been ground too fine to do the utmost mischief. +However, the camp was alarmed, and all food was kept under close +guard and was regularly examined with care before being served. + +Soldiers bearing German names were in some instances suspected, +and unjustly. Officers tried to undo this harm by talking among +the men. Yet all wondered what would be the next outbreak of +spy work in camp. + +Private Mock, sentenced to two weeks' arrest for being off the +reservation without leave, served his sentence moodily, usually +refusing to talk with his fellow-prisoners. + +One Private Wilhelm was also serving a term in arrest at the bull-pen. +His name was held against him Wilhelm as a brand-new man in the +regiment, and one of the few with whom Mock would talk. + +One morning the latter was overheard to say: + +"I'm sick of this war already. I hope the Germans win. If I'm +sent over to France I'll watch my chance to desert and get over +to the Germans." + +"Oh, ye will, will ye?" demanded Private Riley, another prisoner +in the bull-pen. "Ye dir-rty blackguard!" + +Buff! The Irish soldier's fist caught Mock squarely on the jaw, +sending him squarely to earth, though not knocking him out. After +a moment Mock was on his feet again, quivering with rage. He +flew at Riley, who was a smaller man, hammering him hard. Other +soldier-prisoners interfered on behalf of Riley, whereupon Private +Wilhelm, a heavily built fellow, rushed to Mock's aid. + +"A German and a German sympathizer!" + +With that yell a dozen or so of time prisoners set upon the pair. +Some lively and perhaps nearly deadly punishment would have been +handed out, had not several men of the guard rushed in, thrusting +with their rifle butts and breaking up the unequal fight. + +But Mock was reported for his utterance, and Wilhelm for his +sympathies. Both were brought up before Captain Greg Holmes, and +Dick was sent for to join in questioning the men, which was done +behind closed doors. At the end of the hearing Mock and Wilhelm +were returned to the guard-house looking much crestfallen. + +"Did you hear what they said to me?" Mock was overheard to demand +of Wilhelm. "Said they'd have me tried for saying I'd desert, +and that I'd be likely to get several years in prison for talking +too much. Oh, I'm sure sick of being in this man's army!" + +"Sure!" nodded Wilhelm, understandingly. "It's tough!" + +"It'll be tougher, I warrant ye, if we hear ye two blackguards +using any more of your line of talk around here," Riley broke +in. "The guar-rd won't be forever stopping our pounding ye!" + +After that Mock and Wilhelm were left severely alone by their +fellow-prisoners in the bull-pen. Most of these men were serving +merely sentences of a day to a week for minor infractions of +discipline. + +The next morning Private Riley managed to get word to Greg that +Private Brown, of the guard, had been talking with Mock at the +barbed wire of the pen enclosure. + +"Private Brown is supposed to be an all right soldier, but he'll +bear watching," was Dick's comment when he heard the report. + +That afternoon it was reported that both Mock and Wilhelm had +been talking with Private Brown at the barbed wire fence. Dick +smiled grimly when he heard it. + +The next morning orders were read releasing Mock, Wilhelm, Riley +and some of the other soldier prisoners ahead of time that they +might not be deprived of too much instruction. The released ones +were cautioned to be extremely careful, in the future, not to +fall under the disciplinary ban. + +"Sure, I can understand some of us getting out, but not Mock," +declared Riley to a bunkie (chum). "Him an' his talk about deserting +to the enemy!" + +In the meantime Dick had given an accurate description of the +carpenter who had tried to enlist Mock in some dangerous scheme +of revenge. The fellow had disappeared from among the gang of +carpenters, and that was all that was known. Secret Service men +had been put on the trail, but had failed to find the fellow. + +"Now, maybe a soldier sometimes says more than he means," broke +in Sergeant Kelly, who had come up behind the pair on the nearly +deserted drill ground. "Soldiers are like other people in that +respect." + +"But not Mock," Riley objected. "He's a bad egg." + +"I don't say he isn't," Kelly rejoined. "What I'm advising you +is not to conclude that a man is worthless just because he talks. +For that matter, Riley, I believe that the men we have most to +fear are spies who manage to get in the Army, talk straight and +do their work well, and all the time they're plotting all kinds +of mischief. Like the fellow or the chaps who put that powdered +glass in the chow of F company not long ago." + +"Here's hoping I live to see Mock hanged!" grumbled Private Riley, +as Sergeant Kelly moved away. + +Kelly, who had served as sergeant with Dick in other regiments, +had followed him into the Ninety-ninth. Prescott rejoiced that +he had this excellent fellow with him, as capable first sergeants +are always looked upon in the light of prizes. + +Yet, in a---to him---new man Greg Holmes had an almost equally +good top in Lund, a Swede who had put in ten years in the Army. + +When Greg dropped into the company office that forenoon, Lund +handed him a list of men who had put in application for pass that +afternoon. It was to be a visitors' afternoon, and there would +be no drills. + +"Nineteen, and all good conduct men, Sergeant Lund," commented +Greg, glancing over the list and reaching for a pencil with which +to O.K. the list. + +"And two more put in application, but I didn't put their names +down, sir," Lund explained, as he stood at the side of the young +captain at the desk. + +"Who were they?" + +"Mock and Wilhelm." + +"Have they behaved themselves since they got out of arrest?" + +"Oh, yes, sir." + +"Then we'll let them off this afternoon," proposed Holmes amiably, +as he wrote time two names down on the list. "Perhaps they'll turn +out better for a bit of considerate treatment." + +Though Lund frowned as he received the list back in his own hand +he made no comment. + +Immediately after the noon meal Mock and Wilhelm exhibited their +passes to the guard and walked briskly out of camp. + +"Look at that now---the pair of traitors!" muttered Private Riley, +as he spat vengefully on the ground. "Me, I knew better than +to ask for it, and me so lately out of the pen. But those bir-rds +with dir-rty feathers get their chance to go off the reservation +and plot more mischief." + +Had Private Riley been able to follow the pair unseen he would +have been even angrier. Mock and Wilhelm, stepping briskly along +the road over which Dick had ridden that eventful evening, kept +on for some three miles, then turned abruptly off into the forest. + +For another half mile they kept on, going further and further from +the road. + +"Here's the spot," said Mock, after some hunting under the trees. +"It must be the place, for it has the nail driven into the tree +trunk." + +"Sure, it's the place all right," Wilhelm agreed. + +Mock emitted a shrill whistle that would not, however, carry very +far. Instantly there came an answering whistle. + +"And here we are!" spoke up the stoop-shouldered stranger, coming +out of a. jungle of bushes. "I'm glad to see that you're on +time. And to-day I hope you've more sand than you had that night." + +"Forget it," said Mock shortly. + +"You're ready now?" + +"To do anything," Mock agreed. + +"Sure! He's all right!" Private Wilhelm nodded. "I've attended +to that." + +"Come here, Carl!" called the stoop-shouldered one, in a low voice. + +From another clump of bushes came another man, bearded and +bespectacled. If there's anything in a face, Carl was unmistakably +German. + +"Carl will tell you what to do," said time stoop-shouldered one. + +"You men are in two different companies?" asked the man behind +spectacles. + +"I'm in B company," nodded Mock. "Wilhelm is in E company." + +"Then you can take care of two companies of men," Carl went on. +"Do to-morrow morning what I'm going to tell you. See these?" + +The bespectacled one held up two vials that he had taken from +a pocket. + +"Each one of you takes one of these," he went on. "Hide them +to-night where you please. In the morning, when the men in your +barracks hang their bedding out of the windows and go down to +breakfast, stay behind. Uncork a vial, each of you, and sprinkle +the liquid in here on the bedding of at least half a dozen soldiers. +You understand? Then slip down to your breakfasts." + +"What's in these vials?" asked Mock, taking the one offered him +and curiously inspecting the liquid in it. + +"Germs!" said the bespectacled one. "Measles. Do as I tell you, +and in a few days measles will begin to run through the two companies +like wildfire. In a few days more it ought to be well through +the regiment. Tomorrow night slip out of camp and come here. +Under those bushes over there you'll find civilian clothing. +Understand? Yes? In the pockets of each suit you'll find the +money to pay for your work. Take off your uniforms and put on +the other clothes. Then go where you please, but be sure to keep +out of time Army after this, for American soldiers are going to +die fast! The money you'll find will take care of you. Yes?" + +"Yes!" nodded Mock. "Sure!" + +Then, suddenly, Mock turned and whistled. + +"You two men will throw up your hands!" came in the sharp tones +of Captain Dick Prescott, as he, Sergeant Kelly and four privates +stepped into view. + +"You sneak!" yelled the stoop-shouldered one, making a rush at +Mock and trying to seize the vial. But Mock dodged. In the same +instant the bespectacled German tried to snatch the other vial +away from Wilhelm, but that soldier, too, dodged and saved the +vial. + +"On the ground is a good place for you!" growled Sergeant Kelly, +knocking the stoop-shouldered stranger flat. Then, before the +fellow could rise Kelly had snapped handcuffs his wrists. + +Two of the soldiers seized the bespectacled German just as he +started to run. He, too, felt the clasp of steel around his wrists. +Though Kelly and the four privates were armed with automatic +pistols no weapon had been drawn. + +"Twice you've played the sneak, you!" hissed the stoop-shouldered +one, glaring at Private Mock. + +"Twice more I'll do it to help Uncle Sam," retorted Mock, with +a short laugh. "I owed it to you to see you caught!" + +"But you're a German!" hissed the bespectacled one at Wilhelm. +"Why did you turn on us, who are also German?" + +"My father was a German; he's an American now," said Wilhelm, +coolly. "Me, I've always been an American, and I'm one now, and +will be as long as I live." + +"Let me have those vials," Dick ordered. "Sergeant, take these, +and mark them as soon as you get back to company office. Then +we'll turn them over to the medical department. Sergeant, march +your prisoners." + +Heading toward the road Sergeant Kelly and his four soldiers led +the German captives away. + +Captain Dick, with Mock and Wilhelm, followed, but did not attempt +to keep up with the sergeant's party, + +When Kelly showed up in camp again he did not have his prisoners +with him. He had taken them elsewhere, and they were soon on +their way to an internment camp, where, like "good" Germans in +America, they would live until the close of the war, cut off from +all further chance to plot against Uncle Sam's soldiers. + +Halting at a farm-house on the way, Dick telephoned to regimental +headquarters. Two minutes after his message had been received +Private Brown, white-faced and haggard, was placed under arrest. +Under grilling, he confessed what Secret Service men had already +learned---that his name was really spelled B-r-a-u-n; that both +he and his father were German subjects, and that the young man +had enlisted for the sole purpose of playing the spy and the plotter +in the Army. + +It had been Mock's talk of deserting in France that had caused Braun +to talk to Mock, who had been told by Captain Prescott to talk in +that vein while in the bull-pen. Braun had fallen into the trap. + +As for Wilhelm---which wasn't the young an's real name---he was +the son of a German-born father, but a young man of known loyalty +to the United States. He wasn't a soldier, but a War Department +agent who had donned the uniform for a purpose, and had come to +Camp Berry with a draft of real soldiers. + +And this was the plan that Dick had worked out following his pretended +arrest of Mock that night up the road. Mock, resolved to become +a good soldier again, had undergone his humiliation in the bull-pen, +and the scorn of his fellow-prisoners, in order to trap the +stoop-shouldered German, a pretended carpenter, but really August +Biederfeld, a German spy. The bespectacled one, Dr. Carl Ebers, +was another spy. The two had delivered their messages in camp +through Braun. + +While the pair Ebers and Biederfeld were interned, Braun, as one +who had enlisted in the Army and had taken the oath of service, +was court-martialed on a charge of high treason, and shot for +his crimes. Before his death he confessed that it was he who +had shaken the powdered glass in the food of F company, the stuff +having been supplied by Dr. Ebers. It was Braun, also, who had +damaged the machine gun and worked havoc with infantry rifles, +he, too, had forged and placed the pretended Prescott note about +"Cooking Cartwright's goose." + +"Wilhelm" soon vanished, undoubtedly to do other work as an alleged +German sympathizer elsewhere. As for Mock: + +"Private James Mock, B company, having suffered humiliation and +scorn that he might better fulfil his oath and serve his country, +is hereby restored to his former rank of sergeant in B company, +and with full honor, he will be obeyed and respected accordingly." + +So ran the official order published to the regiment. + +The liquid in the two vials was found to be swarming with measles +germs that would have started a veritable epidemic at Camp Berry. + +Captain Dick Prescott's quick thinking and steady action had resulted +in the capture of the German spies who were seeking to destroy +the Ninety-ninth. + +No quiet days, however, were in store for the regiment. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WITH THE CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS + + +"No other business, Sergeant?" asked Dick, one October morning, +as he looked up from the desk in company office at his "top." + +"Among the nineteen National Army men drafted into this regiment, +sir, are three conscientious objectors who ask to be transferred +to some non-fighting branch of the service." + +"Send for them," ordered Dick briefly, a frown settling on his brow. + +Privates Ellis, Rindle and Pitson speedily reported in the office, +saluting, then standing at attention. + +"You men are all conscientious objectors?" Prescott asked coldly. + +"Yes, sir," said the three together. + +"You all have conscientious objections to being hurt?" Prescott +went on. + +"I have conscientious scruples against killing a human being, sir," +replied Private Ellis. + +"And you also have scruples against giving him a chance to kill +you," Dick went on mercilessly. "You believe in a police force +for preserving order in a community, do you?" + +"Y-yes, sir." + +"If you found a burglar in your home, and had an opportunity, you +would send for a policeman?" + +"Yes, sir," Ellis admitted. + +"Even though you knew the policeman might find it necessary to kill +the burglar in attempting to arrest him?" Prescott quizzed. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then, while you presumably would not kill a burglar yourself you +would not object to calling a policeman who might do it?" + +Private Ellis began to suspect the trap into which he was falling. + +"I could not bear to kill the burglar myself, sir," he replied. + +"And you would not want the burglar to kill you, so you would +summon a policeman to do whatever killing might be necessary. +In that case, are you a moral objector to killing, or are you +merely a coward who relies on another to do the killing for you?" + +Private Ellis appeared much confused. + +"Answer me," Dick commanded. + +"The case doesn't seem the same to me, sir, as serving as a fighting +man in the war." + +"The case is exactly the same, except in the matter of magnitude," +Prescott retorted. "Germany is the burglar, trying to break into +the house of the world. You haven't time necessary courage to +fight a German yourself, but you will be glad to see a braver man +serve on the firing line in your stead. And you are a conscientious +objector, too, are you, Rindle?" + +"I---I thought I was, sir," confessed the soldier. "Your questions, +sir, and your way of putting the case confuse me." + +"And you, Pitson?" Dick demanded, eyeing the third man. "Knowing +that, if you are sent to some non-combatant work, some other man +will have to be sent to this company to do your killing work for +you, you wish to dodge fighting duty?" + +"Yes, sir; I do," Pitson answered unhesitatingly. + +"Pitson, consider the matter seriously and try to decide whether +you're a moral hero or a physical coward!" + +"Sir, I am no mor-----" + +Here the man hesitated, growing red in the face. + +"Out with it," Dick smiled coolly. + +"I am a conscientious objector, sir," Pitson rejoined. "No matter +what punishment may await me for refusing, I _must_ decline to +accept any duty that may call upon me to kill another human being." + +"Yet you would call a policeman, in the case of finding a burglar +in your house?" + +"Not if I thought the policeman would have to kill the burglar, +sir," Pitson protested. + +"I'll wager the fellow is lying, at that," Prescott reflected, +as he rose. "Take off your hat, Pitson." + +The soldier obeyed. His forehead sloped up and back. The back +of his head sloped up and forward, so that the top of his head was +pointshaped. + +"I've been interested in seeing what the head of a real conscientious +objector looked like," Dick remarked slowly. "I've seen your +head and from its shape I believe you to be a real conscientious +objector. I am going to approve your transfer to a non-combatant +branch, Pitson. You may step outside until you are sent for again." + +After Pitson had gone Dick ordered the two remaining men to remove +their campaign hats. He studied the shapes of their heads so +attentively that both young men winced plainly under the inspection. + +"Your heads are shaped differently from Pitson's," Prescott went +on. "The top of his head goes up to a point. If a mule had a +head shaped like that our veterinary surgeons would call it a +fool mule and reject it. But you men have heads expressing more +intelligence. + +"What is the matter with you two? Have you been listening to +socialistic or other freak talk? Do you realize that the German +Kaiser and his nation threaten the freedom of the world? Do you +realize that the Germans want to rule this world, and do you know +how they would rule it, and what a miserable, impossible world +it would be for free men to live in? + +"Do you realize that the only way we can stop the Germans from +ruling the world in their own brutal way is for the free men +of all good nations to fight? Do you fully understand that we +cannot fight such a beastly enemy in any other way than by killing +him? Do you so thoroughly object to fighting that you would see +a free world ground under the heel of the despotic Kaiser sooner +than help kill his soldiers and thus prevent such a world-wide +tragedy? Are you men, or are you dish-rags? Are your consciences +so important that you would put the world in cruel bondage rather +than violate your own little personal ideas of what is moral? +Are you men so sure you're right that you'd dodge a slight wrong---if +wrong it be---and allow the greatest wrong ever attempted to triumph? +Do your moral principles tell you that it is better to let Shame +rule the world instead of Justice?" + +Ellis and Rindle were plainly non-plussed by Dick's passionate +appeal to their broader sense of right and truth. + +"I'm afraid you two have been patting yourselves on the back in +the idea that you stood out for a great moral principle," Captain +Prescott resumed. "Don't you begin to see that the fact is that, +instead, you're really moral slackers who'd let the world go into +the devil's keeping provided you didn't have to be made to do +something that you don't want to do? I won't say you're physical +cowards, for honestly I hardly think you are, but aren't you at +least moral slackers?" + +Private Ellis swallowed hard before he replied: + +"No, sir; I'm not a moral slacker, for I've changed my mind. +I'm going to fight if I'm told to. I'm going to do whatever Uncle +Sam wants me to do. You've put the matter in a different light +to me, Captain Prescott." + +"And you, Rindle?" + +"I'm going to do myself the honor of asking permission to remain +in your company, sir," replied the second man, his mouth twitching. +"I'm a bit of a fool, sir. But I don't believe that I'm a fool +all the way through. I believe that I can see at least part of +a truth when it's put to me fairly, and now I believe that it's +right to fight for truth and justice as against black tyranny---and +I'm ready to do it." + +"Good enough!" cried Dick, his face lighting up, as he held out +his hand. "If you have any further doubts, later, come to me. +I don't know everything, but we can get together and perhaps +between us we can get close to the truth." + +Shaking hands with the soldiers who had found themselves, and +dismissing them, Dick added: + +"Sergeant Kelly, find out what non-combatant branch that fellow +Pitson would prefer to serve in, see what unit will have him, and +then bring the transfer papers to me to sign." + +Passing into the corridor, and hearing the piano's notes in the +mess-room he glanced inside. It was a rest period between drills, +and a soldier seated at the instrument strummed his way through +the air of a mournful ditty. It's an odd thing that when the +average soldier is wholly cheerful he prefers the "sobful" melodies. + +At one of the long mess tables near the piano sat four young men, +paying no heed to the music, nor, in fact, doing anything in +particular. + +"How many of you men have mothers?" Prescott asked with a smile. + +All admitted that they had. + +"How many of you have written that mother to-day?" + +None had. + +"How many wrote her yesterday?" None. + +"Think hard," Dick went on. "Has any of you written his mother +a letter within five days?" + +One soldier asserted that he had written his mother four days before. + +"I wish you men would do me a favor," Dick went on. "Each one +of you write his mother at least a four-page letter and mail it +before supper. There is going to be time enough between drills +to-day. How about it?" + +Each of the four soldiers standing at attention promised promptly. + +"All right, then," Prescott nodded. "Rest!" Whereupon they resumed +their seats on the bench. "Remember that a promise is a promise. +And I've seen enough of soldiers to know that they're likely to +be careless where it hurts most." + +"I'd do anything Captain Prescott asked me to do," remarked one +of the soldiers when Dick had passed on out of barracks. + +"If I knew anything he wanted me to do I'd do it before he asked +me," declared another. + +When a captain's men feel that way about him it's a cinch that +he commands a real fighting unit. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +ORDERS FOR "OVER THERE" + + +During the next drill period Sergeant Kelly, hearing an angry +voice, glanced out through the window. + +In the last draft to the company some green recruits had come in, +men who had been drafted to the National Army and sent to the +Regulars to fill up. Among them were Privates Ellis and Rindle. + +"About face!" rapped out the crisp tones of Corporal Barrow, as +he glared at eight men in double rank. + +Badly enough most of them turned. "You poor mutt-heads!" rasped +the corporal. "Do you think you'll ever make soldiers?" + +In a jiffy Kelly reached for his campaign hat, put it on, and +stepped out into the corridor, passing out and heading for the +drill ground. + +"Right dress!" called out Corporal Barrow. "Front! Rotten! +I wonder if you fellows think you'll ever be soldiers?" + +Plainly the recruits were chafing under the lash of the corporal's +tongue. But Barrow, a young man of twenty-two, who had received +his chevrons after only four months of service, was in no mind +to be easily pleased to-day. + +"You're the most stupid squad in the regiment!" the young non-com +went on. "Your place is in the bullpen, not in the ranks." + +"Let the squad rest a minute or two, Corporal, and come with me," +Sergeant Kelly called placidly. "I've a message far you." + +Giving the required order, and lull of curiosity, Corporal Barrow +stepped quickly over to Kelly, who, placing a hand on the young +man's shoulder, walked him some distance away. Suddenly the top +sergeant, his back turned to the squad, grilled Barrow with a +blazing gaze. + +"You poor boob in uniform!" rapped the sergeant. "Whatever made +you think of taking up soldiering. And what made you think yourself +fit to be in a regiment of Regulars? Do you know your left foot +from your right? You know as much about the manual of arms as I do +about Hebrew verbs. When you salute an officer you're a standing +disgrace to the service! Do you know what you ought to be doing +in life?" + +His face growing violently red, Barrow soon forgot to be indignant +in the excess of his wonder. + +"Meaning---what?" he demanded, thickly, his lower jaw sagging +in bewilderment. + +"How do you like the way I'm talking to you?" asked Sergeant Kelly, +his own strong jaw thrust out as though he were seeking to provoke +a quarrel. + +"Why do you ask?" demanded the corporal, with some show of spirit. +"Does any man enjoy being spoken to like a thieving dog?" + +Instantly Kelly dropped back into a placid tone. + +"How do you think the men of that squad like hearing you talk +to them as I've just talked to you?" + +"But they're such numbskulls!" declared Barrow. + +"You won't improve their intelligence by turning the hot water +on them all the time," Sergeant Kelly continued. "Could I make +a better corporal of you by scorching you every time I saw you?" + +"You know you couldn't." + +"No more can you turn those rookies into soldiers by raging at +them every time you speak. Take it from me, Corporal Barrow, +the wise drill-master doesn't use any rough talk once a week, +and not even then unless nothing else will answer. Talk to the +men right along as I heard you doing, and they won't have a particle +of respect for you. That being the case, you cannot teach them +anything that it will be worth their while to know. If the captain +had heard what I heard you saying to those men he'd put you back +in the awkward squad yourself. Patience is the first thing a +drill-master needs. Whom do you call the smartest corporal in +the company?" + +"Corporal Smedley," Barrow answered, without hesitation. + +"Right, and he's going to be the next new sergeant. But Smedley +is the most patient drill-master in the company. Shall I send him +over to show you how to handle a green squad?" + +"Don't, Sergeant!" + +"All right, then; I won't---unless you give me new reason to think +it necessary," smiled Kelly. Then his hand, still resting on the +younger man's shoulder, he walked back to where the squad waited. + +"I'll tell you more about it any time you want to know," was Kelly's +last statement before he turned away. + +"Attention!" called Corporal Barrow briskly. "Saluting is one +of the things a new soldier is likely to do badly at first. I'm +going to put you through a few minutes of it." + +This time Barrow patiently singled out the soldier giving the +poorest salute. + +"You don't bring your hand up smartly enough," Barrow explained +patiently. "Try it again. No; don't bring it up with a jerk. +Do it like this---smartly, without jerk. No; that's not right, +either. Hold your hand horizontally when it touches your hat-brim. +Hold it the way I am doing. Don't be in a hurry to let hand +fall, either. When saluting an officer, keep the hand at the +hat-brim until he has returned the salute, or you've passed him. +There, you have it right now, Rindle. Do it three times more, +dropping your hand when I see you and return the salute. That's +it. Good work. Try it again, all together. Squad, salute!" + +"Well done, Corporal," chimed in the voice of Captain Prescott, +who had come up behind the instructor, "Be sure that the squad +has drill enough in the salute, for a man is never a really good +soldier until he can render a salute smartly. Let the men break +ranks, Corporal, and have each man pass me in turn, saluting the +best he knows how." + +As Captain Dick stood there, receiving and returning the salute +of each rookie as he passed, the young company commander noted +each man's performance with keen eyes. + +"First rate for recruits, Corporal," Prescott said, as he turned +away. "Give them daily drill at it, however." + +Corporal Barrow gave his own most precise salute as he received +his captain's orders. Then he called: + +"In double rank, fall in! Mark time, march! Step more smartly, +Pelham. Hip, hip, hip! Squad halt! One, two!" + +From the corner of the building Dick had paused an instant to +glance back. Then he went into the company office. + +"I've just been watching Corporal Barrow and his new recruit squad, +Sergeant," Dick announced. "The men are doing first-rate for +new men. Corporal Barrow is a patient and competent drill-master." + +"Yes, sir," Kelly replied, without trace of a smile. + +"The patient instructor is the only one who can teach a recruit, +Sergeant. If you ever see a non-com in this company losing his +temper set him straight at the first chance." + +"Yes, sir." + +"But don't make the correction in hearing of the squad unless the +case is a flagrant one." + +"No, sir," Sergeant Kelly promised, his eyes smileless. + +"How near is the company to full strength this morning?" + +"Only twelve men short, sir. A new draft, coining in on the 4.10 +train this afternoon is expected to fill all companies to strength, +sir." + +Dick Prescott felt a sudden thrill. Filling up the companies +of the Ninety-ninth appeared to promise that the regiment would +soon be on its way overseas! + +"If we get our full strength this afternoon, Sergeant, be sure +to have the clothing requisitions for them all in shape by this +evening. Then we'll try to draw to-morrow morning." + +"Yes, sir." + +"And---sergeant!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I'm mighty glad that you applied for transfer to this regiment +when I was ordered to it. I don't know what I'd do without you." + +"Thank you, sir!" + +Kelly had sprung to his feet. He now stood at salute as Prescott +left the office. + +The train due at 4.10 arrived after 8.30 that evening. Twelve +new men, assigned to A company, were marched to barracks after +ten. No man in the detachment had eaten since early morning. The +mess sergeant had coffee and sandwiches ready. + +It was midnight when Kelly, with the aid of other non-coms, had +the measurements of the new men on paper and his clothing requisition +ready. Dick Prescott was on hand to sign as company commander. + +At six in the morning first call to reveille sounded from the bugles. + +Like the other companies in the regiment A company tumbled out +of its cots. Men dressed, seized soap, towels, brushes and combs, +and hurried to the wash-room at the rear of barracks. Then back +again, the final touches being administered. Outside a bugle +blew, calling the men to first formation. Then mess-call caused +two hundred and fifty hungry soldiers to file into the mess-room, +kits in hand, and line up at the further end for food and hot drink. + +At 7.46 Dick Prescott stepped briskly into the company office. + +"Sergeant Kelly, have each man carry out his mattress to the incinerator +and empty out the straw. Detail men to burn the straw. Have +the cots piled at the end of each squad room. At 8.25 turn the +company out with barracks bags and dismiss after the bags have +been placed. At 8.40 turn out the company in full marching order, +with arms and pack, for inspection. As soon as practicable thereafter +the men will be turned out again for issue of razors." + +"Yes, sir," Kelly replied with a quiver. "Of course you know what +it means, Sergeant?" + +"The regiment is moving, sir." + +"Moving by rail to the point of embarkation, Sergeant. We're---at +last we're going over!" + +There must have been an eavesdropper outside the office door, +for instantly, so it seemed, the news flashed through the building. + +"Orders have come!" + +"We're going over!" + +"_Now_!" + +"Stop that cheering, men!" boomed Dick Prescott's voice, as he +stepped into the corridor. "This is Georgia, and you'll wake +all the sleeping babies in North Carolina." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ON BOARD THE TROOPSHIP + + +North to an embarkation camp, not to a pier. There passed several +days of restlessness and unreality of life. + +Final issues of all lacking equipment were made at last. Then, +one evening, after dark, the Ninety-ninth once more fell in and +marched away, the bandsmen, carrying their silent instruments, +marching in headquarters company. + +No send-off, no cheering, not even the playing of "The Girl I +Left Behind Me." + +No relatives or friends to say good-bye! Nothing but secrecy, +expectancy, an indescribable eagerness clothed in stealth. + +"How do you feel, Sergeant?" Captain Prescott asked, as he and +his top stood at the head of A company awaiting the final order +that was to set the nearly four thousand officers and men of the +Ninety-ninth in motion on the road. + +"Like a burglar, sneaking out of a house he didn't realize he +was in, sir," Kelly answered. + +First Lieutenant Noll Terry shivered; it was impatient +uncertainty---nothing else. + +Then the order came. The dense column reached the railway, where +the sections of the troop train waited. By platoons the men marched +into dimly lighted cars. When all were aboard the lights were +turned off, leaving Uncle Sam's men in complete darkness, save +where a pipe or cigarette glowed. + +Despite the eagerness the newness and uncertainty of it all, many +of the soldiers dozed unconscious of the talk and laughter of others. +Singing was forbidden and non-coms had orders to be alert to stop +any unnecessarily loud noises. + +Forth into the night fared the sections of the train. How long +it was on the rail none of the men had any clear idea. It was +still dark, however, when a stop was made and the order ran +monotonously along: + +"All out!" + +Again dim lights were turned on, that men might find all their +belongings. Adjusting their packs the platoons of the Ninety-ninth +found their way to the ground below. + +For once there was no attempt at good military formation. At +route step and in irregular columns, the regiment moved forward +by platoons. Unknown officers stood along the way to direct, +for the regiment's platoon leaders had no knowledge of the way. + +Thus a mile or more was covered by a regiment that looked disorganized +and spectral in the darkness. Then the aspect changed somewhat. +Whiffs of salt air prepared the soldiers. Army trucks were moving +on parallel roads or trails. Ahead of them appeared high fences +of barbed wire. It looked as though the travelers had come upon +a huge bull-pen. There were gates, guarded by military sentries +not of the Ninety-ninth. + +Through these gates and past the barbed wire filed the marching men. + +Further ahead loomed the sheds of a great pier. + +With the help of officers who knew the ground the Ninety-ninth found +room to fall in for roll call. + +"All present or accounted for!" + +Then battalion by battalion, a company at a time, the regiment +passed on through the dimly lighted pier sheds. On the further +side towered the bulwarks of a great ship, with gangways reaching +down to the pier. + +In some mysterious way order reigned and speed was observed. +Line after line of uniformed men passed up the gangways and vanished. +Lights were on the ship, yet dim enough to be in keeping with the +night's mystery. + +Last of all the almost muffled noises of gangways being drawn +down on to the piers. Hawsers were cast off. Stealthy tugs hauled +the ocean monster out into the stream. + +"Off at last!" was felt more than spoken. Then the tugs let go +and the ship, outwardly darkened save for the few necessary running +lights, moved slowly down stream. + +Some venturesome soldiers found their way up on deck. + +Above them, on a still higher deck, the shadowy forms of officers +were discernible. + +The strangeness of the dark sea lay over all. It seemed uncanny, +this dark departure from one's native land---the land for which +these men were going to fight, to bleed and die! + +Yet there was no sense of fear. It was the strangeness that gripped +all minds. + +Up forward on the spar deck a few enlisted men opened their mouths +to sing. The chorus grew in volume and the words rolled up: + +_"And I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way!"_ + +_"For I belong to the Regulars. I'm proud to say."_ + +_"And I'll do my dooty-ooty, Night or day."_ + +_"I don't know where I'm going, But I'm on my way!"_ Breaking +through the words the ship's deep-throated whistle boomed its +own notes. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN THE WATERS OF THE SEA WOLVES + + +Some days later the same ship steamed steadily through the waters +on the further side of the Atlantic. + +Nor was the Ninety-ninth alone. Seven other transports were keeping +her company, together with a busy, bustling escort of British and +American destroyers. + +For these American adventurers of to-day were nearing the coast +of Ireland. + +Whether these transports were to unload their cargoes of human +beings and munitions at any port in Great Britain or Ireland few +on the transports knew, nor did those few tell others. + +Ever since the first morning out there had been daily drills, +on every transport, in abandoning ship. A few night drills, too, +had been held. Not an officer or man was there but knew his station +and his lifeboat in case of disastrous meeting with a submarine. + +These had not been the only drills, however. From morning to +night platoons had been drawn up on the decks and military drills +had been all but incessant while daylight lasted. Especially +had the newest recruits been drilled. By this time the latest +of them to join the regiment had gained considerable of the appearance +of the soldier. + +Dick and Greg, sharing the same cabin, had been much together, +for on shipboard they had found much leisure. It had been the +lieutenants who had drilled the platoons. Captains were but little +occupied on shipboard. + +On the morning that it became known that the fleet had entered +the Danger Zone, Dick and Greg stood on deck to the port of the +pilot house. Leaning over the rail they idly scanned the surface +of the sea to northward. + +"Almost in France, my boy!" Prescott cried eagerly. "Or England!" + +"Near enough, yet we may never see either country," returned Captain +Holmes, suppressing a yawn, for the sea air, even after a night's +rest, made him drowsy. + +"Croaker!" laughed Dick. + +"I'm not," Greg denied, "and I don't want to croak, either, but +who can tell? We are now in the waters where the sea wolves have +been busy enough in finding prey." + +"So far they haven't proved that they could do much to troopships," +Dick declared warmly. + +"There always has to be a first time," Holmes retorted. + +"All right, then," smiled Prescott. "We're going to be torpedoed. +Now, I hope that satisfies you." + +"You know it doesn't," Holmes rejoined. "This sea air makes me +so sleepy, all the time, that I don't feel as though I could stand +any real excitement." + +"Being torpedoed would be something to look back upon in later +years," Dick observed thoughtfully. + +"Yes, if we had any later years on earth in which to look back," +Captain Holmes responded. + +"Who's this strange-looking creature coming?" Dick suddenly demanded, +as he stared aft. + +"Captain Craig, the adjutant, of course," Greg answered. "He has +his life belt on, and he's stopping to talk to others." + +"After he speaks they hurry away," Dick went on. "I understand. +All hands are ordered to put on life belts." + +And that, indeed, proved to be the message that Captain Craig +brought forward with him. Dick and Greg did not have far to go +to reach their cabin. In five minutes they reappeared on deck +in the bulky contrivances intended to buoy them up in the water +should they have the bad fortune to find themselves tossing on +the waves. + +"This makes the danger seem real," Prescott observed. + +"Too blamed real!" grumbled Greg. "We're ordered not to take +these belts off, either, until the order is passed, and are told +that the order won't be passed to-day, either. Imagine our trying +to get close to the dining table to eat in comfort!" + +"It may be in the plans that we're not to eat to-day," Captain +Dick laughed. + +Ahead, on either flank and at the rear, the torpedo-boat destroyers +were scouting vigilantly, with gunners standing by ready to fire +promptly at any periscope or conning tower of an enemy craft that +might be sighted. + +"I don't suppose there'll be any band concert this afternoon," +said Greg Holmes suddenly and ruefully. "And we have a mighty +good band, too. And probably no band concert to-morrow forenoon, +either." + +"We may not be at sea to-morrow forenoon," Dick suggested. + +"Have you been able to figure out at all where we are?" Captain +Holmes asked. + +"I haven't. I don't know either our course or the speed at which +we are traveling. All I am sure of is that we are still out of +sight of land. I was told that we are nearing the coast of Ireland, +but Ireland is a town of some size, so the information isn't very +explicit." + +"Say," ejaculated Greg, suddenly looking over at the water, "we +have begun to hit up a faster speed. So have the other transports. +And look at the destroyers off yonder. They are moving faster, +too. I wonder if any submarine signs have been seen." + +There could be no doubt that the fleet was moving faster. + +"I take it," Prescott guessed, "that we've reached the part of +the ocean, where greater speed is considered much more healthful." + +"The leading transport is signaling, and so are the destroyers +in the lead," Greg announced, peering ahead. + +In their path, and coming nearer four columns of dense smoke could +be observed ascending as though coming up out of the water. + +"More destroyers, or some cruisers, coming out to meet us," Dick +conjectured. "As yet they're too far away to be seen from this +deck. Yes, I must be right. Look at the watch officers on the +bridge. They are using their marine glasses and looking forward." + +"More craft coming to help us?" Greg called up, after having walked +nearly under the bridge end on the port side. + +"Yes, sir," replied one of the watch officers. "Four American +destroyers coming up to strengthen the escort." + +Then he named the oncoming craft, whereat Dick Prescott started +with pleasure. + +"The first two are the craft commanded by Darry and Danny Grin," +Dick murmured to his chum. + +"That's right," Greg nodded. "I wonder if they know we're here." + +"Probably not. And they wouldn't recognize us, even if they saw +us at a distance. The uniform tends to make all men look alike +at a very little distance. It will seem tough, though, to be +so near Darry and Danny Grin and not have even a wave of the hand +from them." + +"What part of the ocean are we in?" Greg called up to the obliging +bridge officer. + +"On the surface, sir," came the dry reply. "On the surface---just +where, in latitude and longitude?" Holmes insisted. + +But the ship's officer smiled and shook his head. + +"I'm not permitted to tell that, sir. Wish I could." + +Going at the speed now employed the transport fleet and the oncoming +destroyers were not long in getting to close quarters. + +Dick named the two destroyers commanded by Lieutenant-Commander +Dave Darrin and Lieutenant-Commander Dan Dalzell and asked the +bridge officer if he could point them out. That the man above +was able and very glad to do. + +"We'll keep our eyes open in the hope of being close enough to +signal Darry and Danny Grin," Captain Holmes suggested. + +"We-----" Dick began, but he stopped right there, for of a sudden +three of the destroyers let go with their three-inch guns with +a great deal of energy. + +Two periscopes had been sighted off to northward. After a few +rounds had been served from the destroyers' guns the firing ceased, +for half a dozen of the escort craft had gone racing northward +and there was danger of hitting them. + +Not that any periscopes were now visible, however, for these had +been instantly withdrawn under the surface. The destroyers, however, +went alertly in search of their enemy prey, even to dropping a +few depth bombs on the chance of destroying the enemy sub-sea craft. + +"A good warning, at least," commented Captain Prescott. "We don't +feel quite as foolish, now, in our life belts." + +Everlastingly and splendidly alert the naval craft had chased +off the sea wolves ere the latter had had time to bare their teeth! + +Still more the speed was increased. An hour passed in which there +was no alarm. Then the enlisted men, forward, filed below decks +to have their early noon meal. The first lieutenants of each +company went below, too, to inspect the food served to their men. + +Half an hour later the Ninety-ninth's officers descended to their +own mess in the cabin dining-room. + +"This trip through the danger zone isn't as exciting as I had +supposed and expected it would be," announced Major Wells. + +"Yet, sir, one attempt was made against us this forenoon," said +Dick. + +"True, but the destroyers showed how promptly the attackers could +be driven off," the major argued. + +"Yet suppose the destroyers had been half a minute longer in sighting +the tell-tale periscopes?" Prescott suggested. + +"But they weren't tardy, and it wouldn't be like the Navy to be +slow," rejoined Major Wells. "I still contend that there is nothing +very exciting in passing through the danger zone on a troopship." + +"And I hope, sir," Greg put in, "that nothing will happen to change +your mind about the danger. For my part, I have been eating in +momentary expectation of feeling a big smash against the side +of the ship." + +"What is happening now?" demanded Lieutenant Noll Terry, half-rising +from his chair. + +All could feel that the big ship had suddenly changed her course +to a violent oblique movement to starboard. Yet, as no alarm had +been sounded no officer cared to rise and hurry to deck. It might +make him look timid or nervous. + +"There we go again, in the opposite direction. We're zig-zagging. +What do you make of that, Captain?" Lieutenant Terry asked. + +"The enemy craft must be around and sending torpedoes our way," +Dick guessed, dropping a lump of sugar in his coffee and stirring +it slowly. + +"In a merry throng like this the suspicion that you're being dogged +by a hostile submarine doesn't strike one as very terrifying, +does it?" Greg inquired as he took a piece of cake from the plate +held out to him. + +At this moment the adjutant, Captain Craig, who had been eating +with Colonel Cleaves in the latter's quarters above, entered the +dining-room briskly, stepping to a nearby table and rapping for +attention. + +"Gentlemen," he announced, "the sea appears to be infested, at +this point, with unseen enemy craft. Ours, among other transports, +has narrowly dodged two torpedoes. It is quite within the limits +of possibility that we may be struck at any moment. The commanding +officer therefore requests me to ask that company officers, +especially second lieutenants, finish their meal as quickly as +possible and station themselves near their men. This is not to be +done hurriedly, or with any sign of excitement, but merely in order +that, if we should be struck, discipline may be preserved +effectively." + +There was no excitement. Second lieutenants finished the morsels +on which they were engaged, some of them washing down the food +with a final gulp of coffee. Then, without undue haste, they left +the dining-room by twos or threes. + +Adjutant Craig watched them with nods of satisfaction. + +"That was the right way for them to leave," he told Dick. "We +do not want to throw any extra excitement in among the enlisted +men, but we want them to feel that their officers are standing +by, and that, at need, there will be disciplined rescue work." + +Soon after the last of the platoon leaders had vanished the captains +and first lieutenants made their way to the decks above. + +Contrary to German reports that American soldiers are kept mostly +between decks while transports are in the danger zone, the decks +fore and aft were crowded with men of the Ninety-ninth. Those +who stood nearest to the rails felt that they had the best vantage +points from which to see what was going on. It was with eager +interest, not fear, that the soldiers took in all that was visible +of the fleet's progress and the work of the destroyers to protect +the troopships from disaster. + +From northward and slightly ahead of the course of the troopship +of the Ninety-ninth a swift destroyer could be seen darting +over the waves. As she came closer it seemed to the Army beholders +that she traveled with the speed of an express train. + +"Worth watching, and every officer and man visible on her looks +and acts like a piece of the machinery," commented Major Wells, +passing Prescott an extended field glass. "Want to take a look +at her?" + +"Why, I'd know that tall officer on her bridge anywhere in the +world if I had as good a view of him as I have now," uttered Dick +delightedly. + +"Old Darry?" inquired Greg Holmes. + +"No one else. Take a look at him. Next to the last officer on the +port side of the bridge." + +The instant that the glass gave him a sight of the familiar face +Captain Holmes uttered a whoop. + +"Darry himself, and sure enough!" Greg exclaimed. "Wonder what +he's heading in so close for?" + +"He knows what he's doing," Prescott returned. "Don't worry about +that." + +"I don't," Greg retorted cheerfully. With a rounding sweep the +destroyer commanded by Dave Darrin turned out of the way of the +troopship, then came up close, on the same course, scooting by. + +"Good old Darry!" Prescott yelled through a megaphone that Greg +thrust into his unoccupied hand. + +For a wonder Dave heard, just as the destroyer darted in at her +closest point to the transport. + +For just an instant Darrin turned to wave his hand. Then, between +both hands, placed over his mouth, he shouted: + +"Hullo, Dick! 'Lo, Greg!" + +Dave waved his hand, then turned to give an order to his watch +officer. A brief greeting, but it meant a world to the three chums +who had had a part in it. + +"Now, if Danny Grin's craft would only come in that close!" sighed +Greg happily. + +But it didn't. Once in a while Prescott and Holmes could make +out the craft commanded by Dan Dalzell, but it didn't come in +close enough for a hail. + +Bang! sounded a destroyer's gun, far ahead. + +Bang! came as if in answer from the bowgun of the leading transport. + +"There are the Huns, and here is the scrap coming!" yelled a corporal +perched up in the bow of the ship. + +Bang! Bang! + +"Hurrah! Hurrah!" Cheers went up in such volume as to be deafening. + +"Tell the men to stop that cheering," shouted Major Wells, in +order to make Dick and Greg hear him. "And tell them that no +more men are to crowd the rail on either side. No noise, and +nothing to make the ship list!" + +Going down three steps at a time, Dick and Greg descended the +companionway forward of the pilot house. + +"No cheering!" shouted Prescott, pushing his way through the throng. +"Quiet!" + +With Dick moving through the masses of soldiers on the port side +of the deck, and Greg performing a similar office on the starboard +side, quiet was soon restored. Then Captain Prescott's voice +was heard announcing: + +"You men must remain quiet, or how can the ship's officers make +their orders heard? Remember, not a cheer after this. And no +more men are to crowd to the rails." + +"It's a pity that the rest of us cannot see what is going on!" +half-grumbled a soldier, so close that Prescott heard him. + +"I know just how you feel about that," the young captain admitted, +wheeling and regarding the soldier. "But this is war, not sport. +Absolute, uncomplaining discipline is the surest means of bringing +this ship and its human cargo through safely." + +Another captain and Lieutenants Terry and Overton had joined the +first two officers on the deck, and order was maintained without +a flaw. + +Bang! bang! bang! bang! + +"This sounds like a full-fledged naval battle!" Greg Holmes called +to his chum, his eyes dancing. + +"And we cannot see a bit of it!" sighed a soldier complainingly. + +"You're in a position to see as much of it as I'm seeing, my man," +Prescott retorted, with an indulgent smile. "You and I are both +obeying orders instead of pleasing ourselves." + +Bang! bang! + +Watching some of the officers at the rail on the deck above, Captain +Prescott was able to discover that the fight was being brought close +to his own ship. + +Then there came another sign. From up forward the port bow gun +of the troopship turned itself loose with a sharp report. + +"Did you note how that gun's muzzle is depressed?" Greg asked +Dick, in a low voice. + +"I did," Dick answered with a nod. + +Bang! The port gun had been turned loose again. Up on the saloon +deck the officers at the port rail were waving their campaign +hats as though what they saw filled them with liveliest interest. + +"I'd like to be up there!" murmured Greg in his chum's ear. + +"And I'm glad I'm down here," Prescott retorted. "It shows our +men that captains of the regiment are shut out from the view as +much as they are. I'd like to see what is going on, but so would +I like to have all these men who cannot be near the rails see what +is happening." + +Bang! went the starboard bow gun of the transport, her nose pointing +straight ahead. + +"Only one thing is plain to me," Holmes declared. "We're in the +midst of a pack of the sea wolves, and they're doing their best +to hit us with torpedoes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE BEST OF DETAILS + + +Boom! It was a dull sound, off to port. Then even the men who +stood in the middle of the spar deck were able to see the top +of a broad column of water that rose out of the ocean. + +Major Wells so far forgot himself as to give vent to a yell of joy, +then suddenly clapped a restraining hand over his own mouth. + +"Sorry you men couldn't have seen that," the major called, leaning +over the rail above and addressing the men on the spar deck. +"A destroyer let go a depth charge, which exploded under water +and threw up a geyser that would make hot water feel tired." + +"Look at that now, Major," urged Captain Cartwright, pulling at +his superior's sleeve. Major Wells walked to the side rail, looked +out over the water, and had all he could do to keep back another +yell of glee. + +"There's something out there that's worth seeing, men, and it's +visible," the major called down. "A great blot of oil on the +water, and it's spreading. That shows that a submarine was knocked +to flinders by that depth charge!" + +In spite of orders a low, surging cheer started. + +"Shade off on that noise, men!" Dick ordered briskly, holding up +his hand and moving again through the crowd. "Remember that we +cannot have any racket except what the guns make." + +A few more guns were fired, and the racket died down. + +"The show's over!" shouted Major Wells. "Evidently we got out +of that meeting with less damage than the enemy sustained. We +lost no craft, while Fritz has one pirate boat less. Our destroyers +of the escort are now moving along straight courses once more." + +On the saloon deck many of the officers turned and stepped inside. +That set the fashion, for hundreds of enlisted men left their +own decks and went below, either to sleep, read or write letters. + +Then, a minute later, Major Wells once more appeared at the rail +forward, calling down: + +"For the benefit of those who like exact statistics I will say +that the commanding officer has just received a signaled message +to the effect that the navies of two countries got an enemy submarine +apiece. You may omit the cheers!" + +Those who remained on deck saw, a couple of hours later, several +specks off on the water which, they were told, were British and +American patrol boats out to give aid to victims of submarine +sinkings. + +Then night came on, dark, hazy, a bit chilling, so that officers +and men alike were glad enough to seek their berths and get in +under olive drab blankets. + +"The haze and mist will hinder submarines anyway, so the weather +is in our favor," was the word passed around. + +Save for the guard, and those on other active duty, the passengers +on the troopship slept soundly. They might be sunk in the night, +but American fighting men do not always dwell on danger. + +When first call sounded in the morning the men rubbed their eyes, +then realized that the ship was proceeding at very slow speed. + +"Get up, you lubbers!" called a man going down to one of the berth +decks. "Do you realize that the ship is at the entrance of a +French harbor?" + +France? + +Then a cheer went up that no officer could have stopped until +it had spent its first force. + +At last! France! "Over there!" + +Never had men dressed faster. How the soldiers piled up the +companionways! Yet a few bethought themselves to kick their +now discarded life belts with a show of resentment and contempt. + +However, the first glimpses had from the decks were bound to be +disappointing. It was just after daylight. The mist of the night +had thickened instead of vanishing. Here and there patchy bits +of land could be seen through the haze, but for the most part +France was invisible behind a curtain of early winter fog. + +One at a time, under the guidance of local pilots, transports +moved slowly into the harbor, moved slowly some more, then docked. + +Here at last, made fast to a French pier constructed by American +engineer troops! But where were the cheering crowds of French? +Absent, for two reasons. The French had already seen many regiments +of American troops arrive in former months, and the novelty of +such a sight had worn off. Besides, most of the French who lived +in this same port were now just about quitting their own beds. + +"Who'll be first ashore from this regiment?" demanded a laughing +soldier as he witnessed the work of bringing the first gangway +aboard from the pier. + +"The guard!" tersely replied Captain Cartwright, as he appeared +with a sergeant and a detachment from the guard. As soon as the +gangway had been made fast sentries were thrown out, two of them +being stationed at the foot of the gangway itself. + +Then came a call the soldier never ignores. The buglers sounded +the first mess-call of the day. + +After the meal came inspection, after which, a company at a time, +the men were sent over the side to the pier. A short distance +up a street the men were halted, forming in two ranks at the side +of the street. The reasons for all that followed were not clear +to the newer men in the ranks. + +While the men had been eating between decks the officers of the +regiment had gone to their last ship's meal in the dining saloon. +Before the meal was half over the adjutant had entered to call +out: + +"At the conclusion of the meal Major Wells, Captains Prescott +and Holmes and First Lieutenant Terry will report at my office +for instructions from the colonel." + +"That's more interesting than clear," declared Greg, as soon as +he had swallowed the food in his mouth. "I wonder why we four +are wanted? What have we been doing and why are we the goats?" + +"Probably," smiled Dick, "it is something to do with either praise +or promotion---the two things that come most regularly to a soldier, +you know." + +Captain Holmes's curiosity reached such a high point that he would +have bolted his food in order to get more quickly to the adjutant's +office, but he noted that the battalion commander was not hurrying +at all. + +"Confound Wells!" the irrepressible Greg whispered to his chum. +"I believe he knows what it's all about, and he knows that we +cannot report before he's ready to do the same, so he's tormenting +us by taking twice his usual amount of time to finish breakfast!" + +"Keep cool," Dick returned dryly. + +At last Major Wells finished his meal. He waited until he saw that +the other three officers concerned with him in the orders had +done the same. Then he inquired: + +"Are you ready, gentlemen?" + +Rising, Major Wells led the way above. When they entered the +adjutant's office they found Colonel Cleaves standing there, chatting +with a French major and two captains. Colonel Cleaves introduced +his own officers, then added: + +"Gentlemen, it is intended that as many as possible of the officers +of this regiment shall go to the fighting front and spend some time +there studying the actual war conditions. You four have been chosen +for the first detail. Captain Ribaut is going to take you there. +He will act as your guide and your mentor for the length of your +visit to the front trenches." + +Even the steady, unexcitable Major Wells showed his delight very +plainly. To a soldier this was unexpected good luck, to start +immediately, with the surety of finding himself speedily in the +thick of things in the greatest war in the world's history! + +"I have informed Captain Ribaut," Colonel Cleaves continued, "that +you will be ready to leave the ship in an hour." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +OFF TO SEE FRITZ IN HIS WILD STATE + + +By the time that Dick and his brother officers left the ship in +the wake of Captain Ribaut, the infantrymen massed along the nearby +street had been gladdened by the sight of a few score of French +women and children who came to the water front to look on. + +Half of the regiment was now ashore and the rest were going over +the side slowly. + +At the head of the pier Captain Cartwright saluted Major Wells +and Captain Ribaut, and found chance to say to Prescott in a low +tone: + +"You're always one of the lucky ones! How do you manage it?" + +"I don't know that there is any system possible in inviting luck," +Dick smiled. + +"You're going right up to the actual front. You'll see Fritz in +his wild state. I envy you!" + +"Your turn will come, Cartwright." + +"It can't come too soon then. For to-day, and the next few days, +I can't see anything ahead of me but drudgery." + +Ever since that quarrel at Camp Berry, Cartwright had kept mostly +away from Prescott and Holmes. Dick, who knew the captain for +an indolent chap, didn't know whether, in other respects, he liked +him. To most of the officers of the Ninety-ninth Cartwright appeared +to be more unfortunate than worthless. + +"Gentlemen," said Captain Ribaut, when they had passed the head of +the pier, "I think that I can obtain a car if you wish it. What +is your pleasure?" + +"Thank you, but we've been on shipboard for so many days that +we'll enjoy the chance to stretch our legs," replied Major Wells. +"A walk of a few miles would do us a lot of good this morning." + +"It is not that far," replied the French captain, who spoke excellent +English. "The distance is, I should say, about two kilometers." + +As that meant a little more than a mile the party walked off briskly. + +"Why, this doesn't look really like a French town," declared Major +Wells. + +"You Americans have been coming here for so many months that you +have made the city American," explained Captain Ribaut. "See, +even the shops display signs in English, and very few in French. +It is on American money that these shops thrive. Here comes +one of our own poilus, a sight you will not see many times in this +American town on French soil." + +Poilus is a French word meaning "shaggy," and is commonly applied +to the French enlisted man. As this French soldier drew close +he brought up his hand in smart salute to his own officer and +the Americans. Greg turned to look back, but the French soldier +was no longer looking their way. + +Up the street, away from where the Ninety-ninth American sentries +were posted, soldiers of the American military police patrolled. + +"You see how American this city has become," said Captain Ribaut. +"Here French law runs only for citizens of France. Your American +military authorities look after your own men." + +French shopkeepers, speaking a quaint, broken English, came to +their shop doors to greet the Americans, even to urge the newcomers +to enter and buy, but Captain Ribaut waved all such aside with a +simple gesture. + +Further on they passed through a public square. By this time +many French people were about, but Dick noted that they betrayed +no curiosity over the appearance of newly arrived American officers. +The sight had become an old story to these people who, however, +bowed courteously as they passed. + +Down other streets Ribaut led the way, and so they arrived at last +at a railway station. + +"We are about in time," remarked the Frenchman, after glancing +at his wrist watch. "We shall get our seats in the train, and +then we shall not wait long." + +Past French guards and saluting railway employees the little party +went. As the train was already made up the Frenchman led them to +a first-class coach, a train guard throwing open the door. They +entered and seated themselves. + +"You will see that none others are shown into this compartment," +said Captain Ribaut to the guard in French. The door was closed. + +"After we leave the station there will be something to see," explained +their guide. "Yet France is not very attractive in such weather. +Up at the front, though, there is nothing at all of France left. +There is nothing but bare ground, full of shell-holes. The whole +face of nature has been denuded and blackened by the atrocious enemy." + +When the train had been under way a couple of minutes Captain +Ribaut leaned forward. + +"Look over there," he said, "and you will see where your regiment +will he housed for the next two or three days. After that the +regiment will entrain and will go to one of the regular training +camps, where you will find it on your return from the front." + +His American hearers looked out on a large village of unpainted pine +barracks buildings. + +"That is a rest camp for troops when first they come from the +transport," explained Captain Ribaut. "Even the barracks are +American, built in sections in your country, then shipped over +here and set up. The village you are passing will shelter two +regiments of American infantry." + +Before long the Americans found themselves much more interested +in the French officer's conversation than in the glimpses of his +country that were obtainable. Captain Ribaut had served from +the beginning of the war and was familiar with every trick of +fighting practiced at the front. He had a wealth of information +to give them---so much, in fact, that before long Dick Prescott +began to jot down information in a notebook. + +Toward the end of the forenoon a soldier came aboard at one station +with an outfit of dishes on two long trays. He was followed by +two others bearing food and coffee. These were set out and the +soldiers departed, the travelers falling to with a relish. At +a station beyond, the dishes were removed by other soldiers. +Then the train rolled slowly on its way. + +"There is much in our travel facilities that I shall have to beg +you to excuse," said Captain Ribaut rather wistfully. "France +is not what it was, not even in the matter of its railways." + +"France is not what she was," retorted Major Wells quickly, "because, +glorious as she, was, she has gone up infinitely higher in the +human scale. Could any other country in the world have stood +the ravages of war so long and still live and contain so brave +and resolute a people? Never mind your railways, Captain. It +is the people, not the railways, who make a country. Your French +people compel our constant and most willing admiration." + +At another railway station, as the train halted, and the guard +opened the door briefly, a low, sullen rumbling could be heard. + +"Do you have thunderstorms at this time of the year, Captain?" +asked Lieutenant Terry. + +"Ah, but yes," replied the Frenchman. "It is a German thunderstorm +that you hear in the distance---artillery." + +"I feel like a fool!" exclaimed Noll Terry flushing. "Of course +I should have recognized the sound of distant cannon-fire." + +"Don't feel badly about it, Mr. Terry," said Major Wells. "In +all your career in the American Army you have never heard as much +cannon-fire as you can hear in a single hour on the battle-front +in France." + +At the next station the rumbling was much louder. French soldiers +were becoming more numerous. At times an entire French regiment +could be seen marching along a road. + +"At the next station," announced Captain Ribaut, "we shall find +ourselves at the end of our rail journey. We are nearing the +front. If you are interested, gentlemen, there goes one of our +French airplane squadrons on its way to the front." + +Instantly all four Americans were craning their necks at the windows. +High in the air, the French aircraft in flight looked as graceful +as swallows on the wing. + +"They are battleplanes," explained Captain Ribaut further. "Some +of the Hun flyers are almost sure of a tumble this afternoon." + +When the American party alighted at the last station on the line, +and looked back, they beheld long trains of freight cars coming +slowly along. The train from which they had descended was hauled +out and quickly shunted out of the way on a siding. The freight +trains pulled in, going to various sidings before huge warehouses +in which the food and fighting supplies were stored until wanted +closer to the front. It was a scene of deafening noise and what +looked like indescribable confusion. Yet everything moved according +to a plan. + +"Let us come where we can hear our own voices!" shouted Captain +Ribaut in the major's ear, and led the way. Behind the station +they found a limousine car awaiting them. As there were seats +for five inside, the travelers soon found themselves vastly more +comfortable than they had been on the train. + +"We will drive slowly," said Captain Ribaut, after he had given +his orders to a soldier chauffeur, "for one does not usually go +into the trenches until after dark. There will be plenty to see +on the way, and enough to talk about." + +At one point Captain Ribaut directed the soldier-driver to turn +the machine into a field. Here the Americans alighted to see +seemingly endless streams of French "camions" go by. These are +heavy motor trucks that carry supplies to the front. + +"And here come some vehicles from the front that tell their own +story," spoke Captain Ribaut rather sadly. + +In another moment the first of a string of at least half a hundred +small cars went by at rapid speed toward the rear. Each car bore +the device of the Red Cross. + +"There has been disagreeable work, and our wounded are going back," +explained Captain Ribaut. "But my friends," he cried suddenly, +"I congratulate you on what you are privileged to see. These +are not our French ambulances, but some of your own cars, given +to France, and young men from America are driving them." + +That these were American ambulance sections in French service +there could be no doubt, for as the drivers caught sight of the +American uniforms they offered informal salutes in high glee. +It was reserved for one gleeful young American, however, to call +out, as his ambulance whizzed by: + +"Hullo, buddies! Welcome to our city!" + +"If that young man were in the American Army I would feel obliged +to try to have him stopped," said Major Wells good-humoredly. +"That was not the real American form of salutation to officers, +but I know the youngster felt genuinely glad to see us so close +to the front." + +"They are a happy lot, perhaps sometimes a trifle too merry," +said Captain Ribaut half-apologetically. "But they are splendid, +these young Americans of yours who drive ambulances for us. They +never know the meaning of fear, and after a great battle they +are devotion itself to duty. They will drive as long as they +can sit and hold the wheel. There would have been many more aching +hearts in France to-day had it not been for the fine young Americans +who came over here with American cars to help us look after our +wounded!" + +Presently the party entered the car again. Every mile that they +covered took them closer to the Inferno of shell-fire. More ambulance +cars whizzed by. + +Then the visitors' car drew up before an unpretentious looking house +just off the main road. + +"If you will come inside," invited Captain Ribaut, "I know that +our general of division will be delighted to meet you." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE THRILL OF THE FIRE TRENCH + + +Passing the two sentries at the front door the officers found +themselves in a small ante-room. + +Excusing himself, Captain Ribaut left the Americans briefly, but +was speedily back. + +"General Bazain is most eager to meet you, and has the leisure +at this moment," the Frenchman announced. + +He led his guests through the adjoining room, where half a dozen +younger French officers rose hastily, standing at salute. Then +on into a third room, just over the sill of which Captain Ribaut +halted, bringing his heels quickly together as he called out: + +"General Bazain, I have the honor to present to you four American +officers, Major-----" + +And so on, through the list of names. The French divisional commander +bowed courteously four separate times, taking each American officer +by the hand with both his own, and finding something wholly courteous +to say. He spoke in French, a tongue that only Major Wells and +Captain Prescott understood well. + +"My division is greatly honored, _Messieurs les Officers_," General +Bazain continued when he had seen to the seating of his callers +and had resumed his own chair behind a desk on which were spread +many maps and documents. + +"You have been having a smart fight this afternoon, sir?" inquired +Major Wells. + +"Ah, yes, for some reason, the Huns have been trying to break +through my division this afternoon, but they have not yet succeeded, +nor will they," General Bazain added, his eyes flashing grimly. + +He was a little man, short and thin, his hair well sprinkled with +gray. He looked like one whom more than three years of war had +borne down with cares, yet his eyes were bright and his shoulders +squared splendidly whenever he stood. + +"Here is a map of the divisional front, gentlemen, if you care +to draw your chairs closer and look it over," proposed the general. +"This shows not only our lines, but as much as we know of the +enemy lines facing us. And I believe," he added, with another +flash of pride, "that we know all there is to know of their lines +for a kilometer back, except whatever may have been added since +dark yesterday. We-----" + +He was interrupted by an explosion that shook the house. It sounded +over their heads on the floor above. + +"We have excellent air service at this point," General Bazain +went on, his attention not wavering from the map. "And at this +point, as you will see, we have five lines of trenches, one behind +another, instead of three. It would take the Hun an uncommonly +long time to drive my brave fellows back out of our five lines +of trenches." + +There followed a rapid description of the work of the division +on that sector during the last four months. The two present first +lines of trench had been taken from the Germans. Plans were now +under way to stage a series of assaults which, it was hoped, would +drive the Huns out of their three present first lines of trench +and add them to the French system. + +An officer wearing the emblem of the French medical service opened +the door and glanced in. + +"My general, you were not hurt by that bomb?" he cried anxiously. + +"I had forgotten it," replied the French divisional commander. +"What was it?" + +"A Hun airman dropped a bomb on the roof. It blew a hole in the +roof and worked some damage in your bedroom overhead." + +"It does not matter," said General Bazain simply. + +Bang! bang! smashed overhead. + +"It must be the same rascal, returning in his flight!" cried the +medical officer, darting out into the yard to look up at the sky. +A moment later anti-aircraft guns began to bark. Two minutes +after the medical officer again looked into the room. + +"We are fortunate to-day, my general!" cried the doctor. "That +scoundrel will not bother you again. One of our shots wrecked +his plane and brought the Hun down---dead." + +Evidently, however, that airman of the enemy had given the location +and range of division headquarters, for now a shell from a German +battery struck and exploded in the yard outside, killing a sentry +and wounding two orderlies. A second and a third shell followed. +A fourth shell tore away the corner of the house without injuring +any one. + +"Your orders, my general, in case our observers can locate the +Hun battery?" asked a staff officer, coming in from the next room +and resting a hand on a telephone instrument. + +"If the enemy battery can be located," replied General Bazain, +"let it be destroyed." + +Rapidly the staff officer sent his message to the artillery post +of command. + +"But surely you will go to a shelter?" asked the staff officer, +laying down the instrument when he had finished. + +"It will be inconvenient," sighed the division commander. "The +light here is much better." + +Yet General Bazain permitted himself to be persuaded to remove +from this now highly dangerous spot. As he and his staff, accompanied +by the visitors, stepped outside another shell exploded close at +hand, fortunately without doing harm. + +Descending to the cellar of a wrecked house near by, in the wake +of their hosts, the Americans found the entrance to steps, cut +in the earth, leading to a secure shelter on a level much below +that of the cellar. Here were two rooms underground, both equipped +with desks, lights, chairs, telephones and all that was needed +for communicating with the ranking officers of the division at +their posts in the trenches. + +"It is stupid to have to work under candlelight in the daytime," +sighed the division commander. "However, Major Wells, as I was +explaining to you-----" + +Here recourse was again had to the maps, which the officers of +the staff had brought along. + +Before dark supper was served at division headquarters in this +dug-out reached through the cellar of a ruined house. + +"If it were not that I expect an attack tonight, and must be at +my post, it would give me delight to go with you and show you +our trenches," said the division commander at parting. + +Private Berger had been summoned to lead the party through the +intricate system of communication trenches to the front. Berger, +who was a short, squat fellow with a sallow face and uneasy black +eyes, took his seat beside the soldier chauffeur. + +For only a little more than a mile the Americans proceeded in +the car, which then halted, and all hands stepped out into the +dark night. + +"From here on we must walk," announced Captain Ribaut. "Berger, +be sure that you take us by the most direct route. Do not take +us into the Hun trenches to-night." + +"I know the way excellently, my captain," Berger replied briefly. + +For some distance they walked over open country, made dangerous, +however, by the presence of gaping shell-holes. Runners, soldiers +and others passed them going to or from the trenches. The artillery +duel, save for an occasional stray shot, had ceased on both sides. + +"The road is steeper here," said Berger, halting after he had led +his party half a mile through the darkness. "We now go up hill." + +It was harder climbing, going up that incline. A quarter of a +mile of this, and Lieutenant Terry suddenly found himself following +the guide through a cut in between two walls of dirt higher than +his head. + +"We are in the communication trenches," said Berger in French. Noll +gathered the meaning of the remark. + +At every few yards there was a twist or a turn in the trench. +At times they came to points where two trenches crossed each +other. Had it been left to the Americans to find their own way +they would have been hopelessly confused in this network and maze +of intersecting ditches. Berger, however, proceeded with the +certainty of one long familiar with the locality. + +"Here is one of our defence trenches," said Captain Ribaut, halting +at last and calling softly to Berger to stop. "This is our fifth +line trench, formerly our third line. We have no men here, you +will note, nor in the next line. In case of a heavy general attack +men would be rushed up from the rear to occupy these two lines +of trenches. We will proceed, Berger." + +They were soon at the fourth line trench. At the third line trench +they found sentries of the reserves on duty. + +"The rest of the reserves are sleeping," Ribaut explained. "You +will see their dug-out entrances as we pass along this trench, +for I am taking you to the quarters of the battalion commander." + +It was necessary to proceed along this third line trench for nearly +a quarter of a mile before they came to a dug-out entrance before +which a sentry and two runners crouched on the ground. + +"Captain Ribaut and American officers present their compliments, +and would see Major Ferrus," explained Ribaut. + +A runner entered the underground shelter, speedily returning and +signing to the visitors to descend the steps. Dick and his friends +found themselves in an underground room of about eight by twelve. +Around the walls were several bunks. At a table, which held +a telephone instrument, sat Major Ferrus and two junior officers. + +"It is quiet here, after the Hun assault of this afternoon," explained +the French major when the Americans had been presented. "Captain +Ribaut, you are taking our American comrades to the front line?" + +"That is my instruction, Major." + +"It is well, and I think you will find it quiet enough to-night +for a study of the Hun line. Still one can never say." + +A brief conversation, and the visitors returned to the outer air, +where Private Berger awaited them. At the second line trench, +which held the supporting troops for the first line, Ribaut took +them to the captain of French infantry in command at that point. + +"I will send Lieutenant De Verne with you," said the captain, +and passed the word for that officer. + +"Show our American comrades everything that can possibly interest +them," was the captain's order. + +"I shall do my best, my captain," replied the lieutenant. "But +I do not know. The Huns are as quiet, to-night, as though they +had tired themselves to death this afternoon." + +Turning to Private Berger, Lieutenant De Verne added: + +"You may find your way into one of the dugouts if you like, as you +will hardly be needed for hours." + +"But my orders, my lieutenant, were to remain with the American +party," protested Private Berger mildly. + +"Oh, very well, then," replied De Verne carelessly. + +This time, instead of leading the way, Private Berger brought +up the rear. + +"You will do well to talk in low tones," the French lieutenant +cautioned them in whispers, "for, when we enter the front line +trench we shall be only about a quarter of a kilometer from the +Huns' first line trench." + +With that they started forward. A short stroll through a communication +trench brought them to the first line ditch. As the ground was +wet here duck-boards had been laid to walk on. The parapet was +piled high with bags of sand through which loop-holes had been +cunningly contrived for the French sentries who must watch through +the night for signs of Hun activity. Over the rear wall of the +trench was another built-up wall of sand-bags. This parados, +as it was called, is intended to give protection against shrapnel, +which often burst just after passing over a trench. Thus the +parados prevents a back-fire of the bullets carried in the shrapnel +shell, which otherwise might strike the trench's defenders. + +"You may stand up here on the fire platform, if you wish," whispered +Lieutenant De Verne to Dick in English. "If you do not think +it too foolish to expose yourself, you will be able to look over +the top of the parapet. First of all you will see our lines of +barbed wire fencing and entanglements. Beyond the wire you will +see open ground, much torn by shell-holes. Further still you +will see the wire defenses of the German first trench, and then +the parapet that screens the enemy from your gaze." + +Hardly had the French lieutenant finished when Dick was up and +peering with all his might and curiosity. Hardly an instant later +the bark of a field-gun was heard to the northward. A whining +thing whizzed through the air. + +Then, into the trench in which the party stood something thudded, +with, at the same instant, a sharp report, a bright flash, and the +air was full of flying metal! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +OUT IN NO MAN'S LAND + + +If there was a disgusted person present it was Captain Greg Holmes. +That angry young man spat out a mouthful of dirt, and then tried to +rid himself of more. + +Major Wells felt more like standing on his head. A fragment of +shell had torn away the top of his tunic in back, without scratching +his skin, and at the same time had thrown a shower of sand down +inside his O.D. woolen shirt. Terry had been knocked over by +the concussion, but had sustained no wound and was quickly on +his feet, unhurt. + +As for Prescott, he had turned, for an astounded second, then, +much disturbed over what he believed to have been his fault, he +had stepped down from the fire step. + +Captain Ribaut and Lieutenant De Verne, neither of whom had been +touched, looked on and smiled. + +As Prescott stepped down to the duck-boards he saw Private Berger +come back into the trench from the adjoining traverse, the latter +a jog in the trench line intended to prevent the enemy from raking +any great length of trench during an attack. + +"I hadn't an idea that just raising my head over the parapet would +bring cannon fire so promptly," Dick murmured to Ribaut. + +"Nor did that act of yours bring cannon fire," rejoined Captain +Ribaut. + +"Then what did?" + +"It must have been that it just happened," replied the Frenchman. + +Private Berger stood leaning with his right hand on top of the +sand-bag parapet. + +"Shall I get back on the fire step for another look?" Dick inquired. + +"Why not?" inquired Captain Ribaut, shrugging his shoulders. +"Why not, indeed, if there is anything you wish to see?" + +Waiting for no more Dick again mounted to the fire step, raising +his head over the top, this time with greater caution. + +"There it is again!" he cried, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, +his words causing his friends astonishment. + +A moment later there came another sharp report, followed by the +same whining sound. This time a shell struck just behind the +parados. There was an avalanche of shell fragments, but none +flew into the trench, the parados preventing. + +"Captain Ribaut, a word with you," Dick urged, stepping down and +laying a hand on the French officer's arm. They stepped further +along the trench. + +"Captain," Prescott whispered earnestly, "I do not want to arouse +any unfair suspicions, but I have something to tell you. When +I first looked over the parapet I noticed on the ground in front +three small but distinct glows. Then came the report and the +shell. Private Berger had stepped into the traverse at his right. +Immediately after the shell burst he came back into this trench. +When I looked over the top a second time I saw the same three +tiny glows of light on the ground ahead. Then came the second +shell. Each time, before the shell was started this way Berger +stood with his right hand resting above his head on the parapet. +Each time he stepped down and into the traverse. Each time, +after the shell burst, he stepped back into this trench. I may +be wrong to feel any suspicions, but is it possible-----" + +"Wait!" interposed Captain Ribaut quickly, and stepped into the +traverse at the left. He came back with two French soldiers. +These started down the trench, pouncing upon Private Berger. +With them was Captain Ribaut. + +"Oh, you scoundrel, Berger!" suddenly hissed the French captain. +He hurled the fellow to the ground, then held up a slim object, +some six inches in length. + +"See!" he muttered to the others. "It is a tiny electric light, +supplied by a very small special battery. The scoundrel, Berger, +had it concealed up his right sleeve. Twice he rested his right +hand on the parapet. He flashed the lamp thrice each time, for +Captain Prescott saw it. Then the scoundrel stepped into the +traverse, where he would be safe from the shell he had invoked +from the enemy. We have known that there was a spy or a traitor +in this regiment, but we were unable to identify him. Gentlemen, +step into the traverses on either side and I will test my belief." + +After the others had filed into the traverses Captain Ribaut rested +his right hand on the parapet, causing the little pencil of electric +light to glow three times in quick succession. Then he sprang +back into the nearer traverse. + +Bang! A shell landed in the vacated length of trench, tearing +up the duck-boards and gouging the walls of the trench. + +"Go for your corporal and tell him to send two men to take this +spy to the rear," Ribaut ordered one of the soldiers who stood +guarding Berger. "Captain Prescott, this regiment owes you a +debt that it will never be able to repay. Berger, your hours +of life will be short, but the story of your infamy will be +everlasting!" + +"And, Corporal," ordered Lieutenant De Verne, after Berger had +been started rearward under guard, "see to it that only the most +necessary sentries are posted along here for tonight. Keep the +rest of your men in shelters, for the Huns may feel disposed to +continue shelling this part of the line." + +"Come, my American comrades," urged Captain Ribaut, "there is +much more to be seen at other points along this line." + +Until within an hour of daylight the French captain and lieutenant +and their American pupils continued along the first line trench. +Save for occasional shell fire it proved to be a rather quiet +night. Leaving the front a sufficient time before dawn Major +Wells and his subordinates went back to the fifth line trench. +After breakfasting, they retired to bunks that had been bedded +in advance of their coming, and slept until late in the afternoon. + +"There is one thing I like about the French trenches," declared +Greg Holmes, with enthusiasm, as soldiers entered with the beginnings +of a meal. + +"And what is that?" inquired Captain Ribaut eagerly. + +"The smell of the coffee when it comes in," grinned Greg. + +"To-day's sleep, and the meals, I have found to be of the best," +said Captain Dick quietly, as he sat down to eat. "I am still +more interested in the hope that to-night in the fire trenches +will be more exciting than last night." + +"Perhaps it will be," suggested Captain Ribaut, "for I have received +word that patrols will be sent out into No Man's Land to-night, +and it has been suggested to me that one American officer should +go with the patrol. Which one of you shall it be?" + +"I know that Captain Prescott wants to go," said Major Wells, +as he noted Dick's start of pleasure. "Therefore, Captain Ribaut, +suppose you send him with the patrol." + +"Thank you, sir," came Dick's quick assent. "Nothing could please +me more. It will make to-night a time surely worth while to me." + +Before the meal had been finished the German artillerymen began +the late afternoon "strafing," as a bombardment is called. + +When the shell-fire had ceased Ribaut led his guests down to the +front or fire trench. Lieutenant De Verne had not been with them +since breakfast time in the morning. + +"May I relieve one of your sentries, Captain, and take his post +until there is something else for me to do?" Dick asked. + +"Yes, certainly," agreed Ribaut. "I will send for the corporal, +who will instruct you as the other sentries are instructed." + +So Dick took the bayoneted rifle of a soldier who was much delighted +at having a brief opportunity for sleep thus thrust upon him. +Dick listened to the corporal's orders, then, for the next two +hours stood gazing patiently out over No Man's Land. At the end +of that time the sentries were changed and Dick stood down gladly +enough, for his task had become somewhat dull and irksome. + +Half an hour after being relieved Prescott heard a sentry challenging +in low tones. Then Lieutenant De Verne came into the fire trench +with a sergeant and six men. + +"This is the patrol," announced the younger Frenchman. "All my +men for to-night are veterans at the game. Captain Prescott, do you +wish to try your hand as a bomber tonight?" + +"I am more expert, Lieutenant, with an automatic pistol." + +"Very good, then; you may stick to that weapon," agreed the lieutenant. +"The sergeant and three men will carry their rifles; the other +three men will serve as bombers. You observe that our faces and +hands are blackened, as white faces betray one in No Man's Land. +We will now help you to black up." + +There followed some quick instructions, to all of which Dick listened +attentively, for to him it was a new game. + +"We have little gates cut through our own barbed wire," De Verne +whispered in explanation. "Do not be in a hurry, Captain, when +you leave the trench. Especially, take pains that you do not +catch your clothing on any of the barbed wire as we crawl through." + +A few more whispered directions. While listening Dick studied +the faces of the waiting French soldiers, their bearing and their +equipment. Only the sergeant remained standing; the privates +disposed of themselves on the fire step for a seat. Two of them +even dozed, so far were they from any feeling of excitement. + +"Ready, now, Sergeant," nodded the lieutenant. + +"We are ready, Lieutenant," reported the sergeant. + +"Proceed." + +First of all the sergeant went up over the top of the trench, +crawling noiselessly to the ground beyond. After him, one at a +time, went the French soldiers. + +"You next, Captain, if you please," urged Lieutenant De Verne. +"And do not forget that any betraying sound causes the night to be +lighted with German flares and that the Huns are always ready to +turn their machine guns loose." + +Dick's hands were instantly on the rungs of the ladder. Up he +went, cat-like. By the time that he had crawled over the parapet +and had reached the first fence of tangled barbed wire be found +a French soldier, prostrate on the ground, waiting, and holding +open a gate that had been ingeniously cut through the mantrap. +Then the soldier crawled on to the next line of wire defence, +repeating the service, as also at a third line. + +The last wire had now been passed. Still lying nearly flat, Captain +Prescott raised his head, staring ahead into the nearly complete +blackness of the night. He was in No Man's Land! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE TRIP THROUGH A GERMAN TRENCH + + +It was the sergeant who led the way. He and his detail moved, +except at special times, in a fan-shaped formation with the +noncommissioned officer ahead, three men on either side of him +formed lines obliquely back. + +In the center, within these oblique flanks were the French lieutenant +and Captain Prescott. + +It was a compact formation, useful in keeping all hands together +and in instant touch, yet likely to prove highly dangerous should +the enemy open on them with rifle or machine-gun fire. + +In the center of No Man's Land was a wide, deep shell crater, +caused by the explosion at that point of one of the largest shells +used by the Germans. + +Crawling down between friendly and hostile lines, the sergeant +made for this shell-hole. When still several feet away he held +up a hand, whereupon Lieutenant De Verne gripped Prescott's leg. +Leaving the others behind the noncommissioned officer moved silently +forward. It was his task to make sure that an enemy party had +not been first to reach the crater. + +Only eyes trained to see in that darkness could make out the fact +that the sergeant had held up a hand once more. This was the +signal to advance. Now, as the men moved forward, the formation +was not kept. Each for himself reached the crater in his own +way and time. Down in this basin men could crouch without fear +of being seen should the night become lighted up. + +When the others had entered, Prescott, being further from the +rim, signed to the French lieutenant to precede him. De Verne +had just gained the hole when---Click! Not far away something +was shot up into the air; then it broke, throwing down a beam +of light. Other clicks could be heard, until the land within +two hundred feet of the crater became at least half as bright +as daylight would have made it. + +Dick Prescott was outside the crater! At the instant of hearing +the first click he found himself in a shallow furrow in the dirt. +To have sprung into the crater would have been to betray the +presence of the party to the enemy. While German machine-gun +fire could not reach the French men below him Dick knew that a +shell could reach them readily enough. + +So he flattened himself in the furrow, his heart beating faster +than usual. There followed moments of tight suspense. Would +this flattened figure be espied by any enemy observer? + +Even when the flares died down Dick did not move. He knew that +more flares might be sent up instantly. + +A quarter of a mile down the line he could hear a machine gun +rouse itself into sudden fury, though none of the missiles came +his way. + +"I've a chance yet," Dick thought grimly. Yet when blackness +came down over the scene again he did not move. No matter what +happened to himself he did not intend that harm should come to +his French comrades through any act of his. + +As Dick still lay there a pebble touched the dirt lightly just +before his face. Raising his head a couple of inches he saw a +hand, dimly outlined at the edge of the crater, beckoning. + +"That means that I'm to go ahead," Dick told himself. "I'll follow +instructions." + +He took considerable time about it, moving an inch or two at a +time. This, however, soon brought him to the edge of the basin-like +depression. In going down the inside he moved a bit more rapidly, +but did not rise until he found himself among the others. Then +he rose to his knees in the middle of the group. + +"You are wonderful!" whispered the French lieutenant, placing +his lips at Prescott's ear. "You Americans must have learned +your stealth from your own Indians. We are clumsy when we try +to equal you in moving without noise." + +One of the soldiers had taken station at the edge of the crater +nearest the German line. Here, with helmet off, and showing not +a fraction of an inch more of his head above ground than was necessary, +this sentry watched in the dark. + +Again De Verne's lips sought Dick's ear as he whispered: + +"What we would like most to do is to find out what is going on +in the Hun trenches. Next to that, the thing we like best is +to ambush a German patrol, capture or kill the men, and get back +with our prisoners." + +"French patrols must often be captured, also," Dick whispered +cautiously. + +"But yes!" replied the French lieutenant, with a shrug of his +shoulders. "It is a game of give-and-take, and all the luck cannot +be ours." + +Still nearer the enemy's wire defenses lay a smaller shell-hole. +By creeping up beside the sentry Prescott was able to see it. +He remained where he was while a soldier of the French party, +holding a bomb in his right hand, crept out of the crater, moving +noiselessly ahead. + +Arrived at the edge of the smaller shell-hole the soldier sent +back a hand signal, then crept down into concealment. + +Up out of the crater started the sergeant without delay. As he +passed Prescott the noncommissioned officer gripped him, pointing +backward. There knelt De Verne, signaling to the American to +accompany the sergeant. Side by side the pair made the smaller +shell-hole, which proved of just sufficient size to screen three +men. + +For three or four minutes the trio crouched here, listening intently, +though no sounds came from the nearby German trench. + +After waiting, as he thought, long enough, the French sergeant +made an expressive gesture or two before the face of the soldier +with him, who, after examining his bombs, crept out and forward, +toward the barbed wire defenses of the enemy. + +Short though the distance was, the man was gone more than five +minutes. Prescott, who at first could see the soldier as he moved, +was not so sure of it later. It was strange how that sky-blue +uniform of the poilu merged into the dark shades of the night. + +At last the soldier came back, reporting to his sergeant, though +using only the language of hand signs. + +With a nudge for Prescott the sergeant crept out of the hole, +Dick following. There was no thought of haste, yet at last they +reached the first of the wire obstructions. Now Dick was able +to guess the meaning of the soldier's recent hand signs. He had +discovered that the Huns had left narrow passages through their +own wires, presumably for the use of German patrols. + +This time it was the sergeant who went forward first. Dick thrilled +with admiration when he saw the French non-com pass the last of +the barbed wire and creep up to the top of the German parapet, +flattening himself and peering over and down. + +Following closely Dick and the French soldier at his side saw +the sergeant kick up slightly with one foot, a signal that caused +the soldier to move to the top of the parapet; Prescott, therefore +did the same thing. + +It was his first look down into a German trench! Not that there +was much to be seen. On the contrary there was nothing to be +seen save the trench itself. Dick had heard that often the German +first-line trenches are deserted during parts of quiet nights +on the front. + +A slight sense of motion caused Prescott to look around. He was +in time to see the French private wriggling backward. The sergeant +withdrew his head to a point below the outer edge of the parapet, +seeing which the American captain followed suit. + +Minutes passed before the departed soldier returned with Lieutenant +De Verne and the remainder of the patrol. Only a glance did the +French lieutenant take down into the trench. Next he quietly +let himself down into the enemy ditch, followed by the others. + +Moving softly the patrol examined that length of trench, also +the traverses at either end. Still no German had been encountered. + +"We will go further," announced Lieutenant De Verne. "Sergeant, +you will take three men and go west until you come in contact +with the enemy. Then return with your report. The rest of us +will go east." + +Carrying a bomb in his right hand, a pistol in his left the young +French officer led the way. Just behind him was one of his own +infantrymen, Prescott coming third and carrying his automatic +pistol ready for instant use. + +Counting the number of trench sections and traverses through which +they passed Dick estimated that they moved east fully two hundred +yards. In all that distance they did not encounter a German soldier. + +"The Huns who sent up the flares," De Verne paused to whisper +to Dick, "must have been the last of the enemy in these trenches. +It made them appear to be on guard, and vigilantly so, and right +after sending up the flares they withdrew to lines at the rear. +It is, I suspect, an old trick of theirs when they wish to leave +the front to rest or feed. I shall so report it." + +At last the lieutenant halted his men. He had penetrated as far +as he deemed necessary. + +"We will go back and pick up the sergeant," he said. "But first +I shall send a man down one of the communication trenches to learn +if the enemy are numerous in the second-line trenches." + +"How long will that take?" Dick whispered. + +"At least ten minutes." + +"Then may I try to penetrate a little further east along this line?" + +"Why not?" + +"I will try to be back soon," Dick promised. Even in the darkness +these Allied officers exchanged salutes smartly. Then, gripping +his automatic tightly, and realizing that he was now "on his +own," as the British Tommies put it, he disappeared into the nearest +traverse. + +Prescott did not hurry. He had nothing to expect from his own little +prowl, and his purpose in going alone had been to develop his +knowledge of this new kind of soldier's work. + +Sixty or seventy yards Dick had progressed when, in a traverse, +he thought he heard low voices ahead. + +"The enemy, if any one!" he thought, with a start, halting quickly. +Straining his ears, he listened. Undoubtedly there were voices +somewhere ahead, though he could distinguish no word that was +spoken. + +"As I haven't seen an enemy yet, I'm going to do so if I can," the +young captain instantly resolved. + +Stepping to the end of the traverse, he peered around the jog. +That next length of trench appeared to be deserted, yet certainly +the voices sounded nearer. + +"I've got to have that look!" Dick told himself, exulting in the +chance. + +Softly he strode forward, then halted all in a flash. And no +wonder! For he found himself standing close to the entrance to +a frontline dug-out that sloped down into the earth. And the +voices came from this dug-out. + +Inside, as Dick peered down, he made out two figures. Yet he +pinched himself with his unoccupied hand, so certain did it seem +that he must be dreaming. + +Of the pair below, while the older man wore the uniform of a German +colonel of infantry, the younger man wore the garb of a French +sub-lieutenant of the same arm. What could this infernal mystery +mean? + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +DICK PRESCOTT'S PRIZE CATCH + + +It was the older man, he of the German uniform who now spoke. + +"So Berger was really caught in the act of signaling us?" + +"Yes, excellenz (Your excellency)," replied the younger man. + +"And he is to be shot for treason?" + +"It is so, Excellenz!" + +The language used by both was German, but Dick followed every +word easily. + +"Too bad! And our commander will regret the loss of Berger much," +sighed the German colonel, "for Berger has served us long and +usefully. Strange that he should be caught, when he has so long +and safely used that electric light pencil of his. I suppose +Berger grew careless." + +"It was an American officer who caught him at it and denounced +him," said the younger man. + +"Ah, well! At least we have you still in that regiment, and you +are more cautious. You will not be caught." + +"Not alive, at any rate, Excellenz," the younger man assured the +enemy colonel. + +"Wrong, there!" spoke a low, firm voice. + +Both men started violently, with good excuse, for before them +stood Captain Dick Prescott, a cocked automatic pistol held out +to cover both. + +"You will both put your hands up!" Dick ordered them sharply, +in German. "You will be shot at the first sign of resistance, +or even reluctance. This trench is no longer German!" + +Dully both men raised their hands. Quietly as Prescott spoke +there was that in his tone, as in his eye, which assured them +that their lives would not outlast their obedience. + +"You will pass up before me," Dick continued, "and neither will +attempt any treachery. I assure you, gentlemen, that I shall +be glad of the slightest excuse for killing you!" + +It was the German colonel who came first, for he was the nearer +one. There was no visible sign of his being armed, but the younger +man in the sky-blue uniform carried an automatic in a holster +at his belt. Dick deftly took the pistol from the holster and +was now doubly armed. + +"Not the lightest outcry, nor the least attempt at treachery!" +Dick warned them sternly. "Face west! March!" + +Though both prisoners obeyed promptly Captain Prescott was not +simple enough to imagine that they had no plan or hope of rescue +or escape. In making this double arrest Dick had realized fully +that he was probably throwing his life away, yet he had deemed +possible success worth all the risk. + +After going thirty or forty yards the older prisoner halted squarely. + +"Proceed!" Dick ordered in a stern whisper, aiming one of the +pistols at the defiant one's breast. + +"I do not care about being killed needlessly; neither do you," +said the colonel. "I can save my life, and give you some chance +for yours by informing you that, at the moment you appeared in +the dug-out, I pressed one foot against a signal apparatus that +calls our men back to these trenches. Just now I heard them entering +a trench section ahead. Others have entered behind us. Your +chance, your only one, will be to climb over this parapet and +do your best to reach the French lines. If you decide to do that, +I give you my word that I will not allow our men to fire upon +you as you withdraw." + +"A German's word!" mocked Dick. "Who would accept that?" + +"It is your last chance for life." + +"And you are throwing away your last chance, both of you!" Dick +uttered in a low voice. "Each of you is within a second of death. +March!" + +With an exclamation that sounded like an oath the German colonel +obeyed, followed by the younger man and Prescott. Neither of +the prisoners had dared risk lowering his hands. + +"You are foolish---life-tired!" warned the colonel, in a hoarse +whisper. + +"If you speak again I'll kill you instantly," Prescott snapped +back. + +After that the prisoners proceeded in moody silence, until, at +last, they rounded out a traverse and ran into several soldiers. +But these soldiers wore the French uniform. In a word, they +were Lieutenant De Verne's party. + +"Prisoners!" cried De Verne, in a hoarse whisper. "Captain Prescott, +you are indeed wonderful! But no, you bring only one prisoner, +this German, for the other is Lieutenant Noyez. Noyez, my dear +fellow, how do you happen to have your hands up?" + +"Because of the idiocy of this American," hissed Noyez. + +"Lieutenant De Verne, from the conversation that I overheard I +learned that Noyez is a spy, and that he was reporting to his +chief, this enemy colonel," Dick stated. "Now that I have brought +them to you, both are naturally in your hands." + +"It is a stupid lie that you, De Verne, must set straight," Noyez +insisted angrily. + +"Since Captain Prescott has made the charge, it must stand, of +course, until you have been taken before competent authority," +De Verne said coldly. "Pirot! Grugny! I turn Lieutenant Noyez +over into your charge. You will give him no chance to get out +of your hands. And now, we must find our way home." + +Two men were sent up over the parapet, then the prisoners were +ordered up and held there at the muzzles of rifles. The rest +of the patrol followed. + +"We will make fast time back," ordered Lieutenant De Verne, "as +we know there are no enemy hereabouts in the first-line trenches." + +Crossing rapidly, though softly, the patrol was challenged by +a sentry in the French trench. De Verne went forward to answer +and to establish the identity of his patrol. Then they were allowed +to pass in by the wire defenses, and next descended to the trench. +Officers and men hurriedly cleansed the black from their hands +and faces. + +"We will now march to Captain Cartier," said De Verne, "and he +shall give us our further orders." + +"You are looking for your friends, Captain?" spoke up a French +soldier in the trench, in his own tongue. "Captain Ribaut has +taken them west along the line." + +"Thank you. If they return, you will tell them where I have gone." + +By this time the German colonel was cursing volubly. He felt +that he could talk, at last, without danger of being killed for +his audacity. Noyez, pallid as in death, was silent, his eyes +cast down. + +Back to the third line of trenches De Verne led the party, then +down into the dug-out of his company commander, Captain Cartier. + +"A German colonel and Lieutenant Noyez, prisoners!" announced +the patrol leader. + +"The German colonel I can understand truly," replied the French +captain. "But why Lieutenant Noyez?" + +"Captain Prescott, of the American Army, arrested both and made +the charges against Noyez," De Verne responded. "You will hear +him now?" + +As it was their first meeting Captain Cartier shook hands with +Dick, who then told what he had overheard. + +"Noyez, a German spy!" exclaimed Captain Cartier. "Truly, it +seems incredible." + +"It is worse! It is an infamous charge!" cried Noyez passionately. + +"Yet our American comrade must be truthful, a man of honor," said +Captain Cartier, in a bewildered tone. + +"May I suggest, sir," Dick interposed, "that it will be easy to +decide. If Lieutenant Noyez was in the German trenches by orders +of his superiors, or with their knowledge, then that would establish +a first point in his favor. But if he was there without either +orders or permission, then plainly he must have gone there on +treasonable business." + +"That is absolutely fair!" declared Captain Cartier. "I will +send at once for Noyez's captain, and we shall hear what he says." + +In dejected silence Noyez awaited the arrival of Captain Gaulte, +who promptly declared that he had no knowledge of any authority +for his lieutenant to visit the enemy's lines. Gaulte had, in +fact, supposed that Noyez was back of the lines on over-night +leave, for which he had applied. + +"The business looks bad!" cried Captain Cartier, with troubled +face. + +"Quite!" agreed Captain Gaulte more calmly. + +"I must telephone for instructions," Cartier continued. "It may +require a long wait. Gentlemen, you will find seats." + +First Cartier called up his regimental commander and reported +the matter. + +"It will be passed on to division headquarters," reported Captain +Cartier, turning from the telephone instrument. + +By and by the telephone bell tinkled softly. Orders came over +the wire that the arresting party should take the prisoners to +division headquarters. + +"These are your instructions, then, Lieutenant De Verne. Of course +it is expected that Captain Prescott will accompany you as complaining +witness." + +In the darkness of the night it was a toilsome march back through +the communication trenches. This time, when they were left behind, +there was no limousine to pick up the members of the party. + +"It is a relief to be at last where we can talk," said De Verne, +in English. + +"You may speak for yourself," retorted the German colonel gruffly, +betraying the fact that he understood the language. + +Halted four times by sentries, the party at last reached division +headquarters. Outside a young staff officer awaited them. + +"General Bazain has risen and dressed," stated the staff officer. +"He had undertaken to snatch two hours' sleep, but this cannot +be his night to sleep. The general awaits you, and you are to +enter. Through to his office." + +As they entered the division commander's office they found that +fine old man pacing his room in evident agitation. + +"And you, too, Noyez?" he called, in a tone of astounded reproach. +"It was bad enough that we should find Berger a spy! But to find +one of our trusted officers---it is too much!" + +"I am neither spy nor traitor, my general!" declared Noyez furiously, +"and my record should remove the least suspicion from my name." + +"But you were in the enemy's trenches this night, without knowledge +or leave of your superiors, Lieutenant. Have you a plausible +way to account for it?" + +"All in good time, my general, when my head has had time to clear," +promised the young sub-lieutenant. + +"It is but fair that we give you time," assented General Bazain. +"It can give France no joy to find one of her officers a traitor." + +It was now the German's turn to be questioned. He gave his name +as Pernim. As he was an ordinary prisoner of war he was led from +the room to be turned over to the military prison authorities. + +"And it was you, my dear Captain Prescott, who captured one spy +who has since admitted his guilt. And now you bring in another +whom you accuse." + +"Berger has confessed, sir," Dick asked, "may I inquire if he +implicated Lieutenant Noyez?" + +"He did not." + +"Yet, sir, from what I heard, Berger and Noyez worked together. +If Berger be informed that Noyez has been captured is it not +likely that Berger will then tell of this accused man's work?" + +"Excellent suggestion! We shall soon know!" exclaimed General +Bazain, touching a bell. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A LOT MORE OF THE REAL THING + + +Through the orderly who answered, three staff officers were summoned. +To these the general gave his orders in undertones in a corner +of the room. As the three hastened out not one of them sent as +much as a glance in the direction of the unhappy Noyez. + +Seating himself in his chair General Bazain, after courteously +excusing himself, closed his eyes as though to sleep. The arresting +party and Noyez withdrew to the adjoining room. + +More than an hour passed ere the three staff officers returned +and hastened into the division commander's office. Fifteen minutes +after that Dick and his friends, with the prisoner, were again +summoned. + +"It has been simpler than we thought," General Bazain announced +wearily. "Berger, when questioned and informed of Noyez's arrest, +confessed that Noyez was the superior spy under whom he worked." + +"It is a lie, my general!" exclaimed Noyez, in a choking voice, +as he strode forward, only to be seized and thrust back. + +"It is the truth!" retorted General Bazain, rising and glaring +at the accused man. "Berger not only confessed, but he told where, +in your dug-out, Noyez, could be found the secret compartment +in which you hid the book containing the key to the code you sometimes +employed in sending written reports to the enemy. And here is +the code book!" + +General Bazain tossed the accusing little notebook on the desk. + +At sight of that Noyez fell back three steps, then sank cowering +into a chair, covering his eyes with his hands. + +"You comprehend that further lying will avail you nothing!" the +division commander went on sternly. "Lieutenant De Verne!" + +"Here, sir!" + +"Noyez, stand up. Lieutenant De Verne, I instruct you to remove +from the uniform of Noyez the insignia of his rank and every emblem +that stands for France! That done, you will next cut the buttons +from Noyez's tunic!" + +Standing so weakly that it looked as if he must fall, Noyez submitted +to the indignity, silent save for the sobs that choked his voice. + +"Call in the guard, and have the wretch removed from my sight!" +General Bazain ordered. "Yet, Noyez, I will say that it seems +to me incredible that any Frenchman could have been so ignoble +as you have proved yourself to he." + +"A Frenchman?" repeated Noyez disdainfully. "No Frenchman am +I. Already I am condemned, so I no longer need even pretend that +I am French. No! Though I was born in Alsace, my father's name +was Bamberger. Twenty years ago he moved to Paris, to serve the +German Kaiser. He fooled even your boasted police into believing +him French, and his name Noyez. My father is dead, so I may tell +the truth, that he served the Kaiser like a loyal subject. And +he made a spy of me. I was called to the French colors, and I +went, under a French name, but a loyal German at heart! I became +a French sub-lieutenant, but I was still a German, and the Kaiser's +officers paid me, knew where to find me and how to use me. I +must die, but there are yet other agents of the Kaiser distributed +through your Army. The Fatherland shall still be served from +the French trenches. You will kill me? Bah! My work has already +killed at least a regiment of Frenchmen. And since Berger has +weakened and betrayed me, I will tell you that he, too, is and +always has been a German subject. Remember, there are many more +of us wearing the hated uniform of France." + +"Noyez! Bamberger!" retorted General Bazain, "I can almost find +it in my heart to feel grateful to you, for you have told me that +you are not French. Since you are a German I can understand anything. +I thank you for assuring me that you are not French." + +With a gesture General Bazain ordered the prisoner's removal. Then, +his eyes moist, the division commander turned to beckon Dick to him. + +"Captain, I have to thank you for finding and helping to remove +two dangerous enemies from my command. You will find me +grateful---always!" + +Once more outside Lieutenant De Verne turned to Dick to ask: + +"You intend returning to the trenches?" + +"By all means, for I feel as though the night had but begun," +Dick cried. "It has gone well so far, and I am ready for whatever +the remaining hours can give me." + +"I had hoped that, at the most, you would ask me to find you a +bunk in a dug-out where you might sleep," confessed De Verne. +"When you have been longer in the trenches, Captain, you will +be glad to sleep whenever the chance comes your way." + +"But that will not be until I have learned more of the ways of +your trench life than I know yet," Dick rejoined. "At present +I would rather sleep during the daylight, for it appears to be +at night that the real things happen." + +De Verne accompanied him back to the fire trench, where Dick was +glad to find Captain Ribaut with the other three American officers, +that party having returned from a trip down the line. + +De Verne soon after took his leave, hastening rearward to begin +his rest. + +Bang! sounded a field-piece back of the German line. + +Between the French first-line and second-line trenches the shell +exploded. On the heels of the explosion came a furious burst +of discharging artillery. + +"This must be what you have been expecting, Major," shouted Ribaut +over the racket. "A barrage!" + +Down the line ran the noise of bombardment, the thing becoming +more furious every instant. Then some shells landed in first-line +trenches nearby. + +"Take shelter!" shouted Captain Ribaut. "Now! At once!" + +French soldiers were scurrying to dug-out shelters. Ribaut led +the officer party to a dugout reached by eight descending steps +cut in the earth. The apartment in which they found themselves +led out some fifteen feet under the barbed wire defenses. + +"How long is this likely to last?" demanded Major Wells, eyeing +the Frenchman keenly by the light of the one slim candle that +burned in the dug-out. + +"Perhaps fifteen minutes; maybe until after daylight," Ribaut +replied, with a shrug. + +"What is the object?" + +"Who can say? But a barrage fire is being laid down between our +first and second lines. That means that no reinforcements can +reach us from the support trenches. And our own trench is being +shelled furiously, to drive all into shelters. My friends, it +is likely that the Germans, enraged by the capture of Colonel +Pernim, who must be missed by now, are paying us back with a raid." + +"More of your strenuous doings then, Dick," laughed Greg. + +"At least a raid will be highly interesting," Dick retorted. "So +far we haven't been in one, and we're here for experience, you know." + +"And you really hope that this turns out to be a German raid?" +asked Captain Ribaut. + +"Yes; don't you, Captain?" challenged Major Wells. + +"An, but we French have seen so many of these raids, and they +are dull, ugly affairs, sometimes with much killing. After you +have seen many you will not hunger for more." + +It was not long before conversation was drowned out wholly by +the racket of exploding shells in and around the fire trenches. +Occasionally one of these drove a jet of sand down the stairs +of the dug-out, but this room was too far underground for the +dug-out roof to be driven in on them. + +Half an hour later the shell-fire against the front-line trenches +abated, though the barrage fire still continued to fall between +the first and second lines. + +Greg whistled softly, unable to hear a note that he emitted. +Noll Terry occasionally fingered one of the two gas-masks with +which he had been provided before entering the trenches. Major +Wells's attitude suggested that he had his ears set to note every +difference in sound that came from outside. + +A French soldier shouted down the steps in his own tongue: + +"Stand by! The Huns are coming!" + +At a single bound Captain Ribaut gained the steps and darted up, +followed promptly by the American officers. + +In the section in which they found themselves four French soldiers, +rifles resting over the parapet, stood awaiting the onslaught. + +Two more men, equipped with hand bombs, stood awaiting the moment +to begin casting. + +All the while the curtain of shell-fire, the barrage laid down +by the Germans between them and the second-line trenches, continued +to fall. It effectually prevented French reinforcements from +coming up to the first line. + +His automatic pistol ready, Dick Prescott found elbow-room on +the fire step. Cautiously he looked over the parapet. + +For a moment he could see nothing, save that German shell-fire +had blown the barbed wire defenses to pieces, clearing the way +for the German invaders to reach them. + +In the near distance Dick made out the shadowy figures of the +men in the first wave of the German assault. + +Rifle-fire began to roll out from the French soldiers. From somewhere +at the rear, perhaps from emplacements in or near the French support +trenches, the steady drumming of machine-gun fire began. The +air was filled with death. + +Dick Prescott's blood thrilled with the realization that he was at +earnest grip with the Boches! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A "GUEST" IN PRISON CAMP + + +In the terrific din of the barrage-fire the men of the first German +wave came on like so many silent specters. + +They did not run forward, but moved at a fast walk. It was necessary +that they save their breath to use in the hand-to-hand struggle +that must follow. + +Suddenly a French bomb left the trench, striking the ground just +in advance of the oncoming Germans. The pink flash of the explosion +lighted the set faces of three or four men of the enemy, one of +whom went to earth as a fragment from the bomb struck him. + +Then bombs fell fast, all along the line. Prescott, singling +out an enemy while the flash lasted, let drive at him with a shot +from his automatic. + +Though several of the Huns fell, the advancing line continued +unhesitatingly. The last few steps, past what was left of the +barbed wire, the Germans hurled themselves at greater speed. + +Then invaders and defenders clashed. German bayonets thrust viciously +down into the trench, while French bayonets reached up to dispute +them. + +Dick had backed away from the fire step. His back against the +further wall he was using his automatic pistol to the best advantage. + +The first German to leap into the trench landed almost at the +feet of Captain Greg Holmes, who had crouched to receive him. +Rising, in one of his best old-time football tackles, Greg threw +the Hun backward with fearful force, then sat on his chest. + +"You're my prisoner!" Holmes shouted at the prostrate. "Try to +rise if you dare!" + +So hot had been the reception of the first wave that those of +the Germans who did not manage to leap down into the trenches, +recoiled in dismay. + +Then the second wave of raiders came up, only to find that the +French had recovered their second wind. Great as the odds were +the French held their own, thrusting, shooting and clubbing with +rifle butts. + +From his position on his prisoner Greg fired coolly as often as +he could do so without endangering a French comrade. He longed +to rush in closer, but did not intend to let his prisoner get +away. Only one German got close enough to thrust at Holmes, who +shot him through the heart before the bayonet lunge could be made. + +What was left of the first and second waves was being beaten back. +Major Wells, Prescott and Noll Terry leaped to the parapet with +two French soldiers in their section to beat back the foe. + +Just then a third wave arrived. The fighting became brisker. +Dick Prescott felt a weight against his head. He staggered dizzily, +felt arms clutch at him, and had only a hazy notion of what followed. + +The Germans went back, carrying a few prisoners with them. A +minute later the enemy barrage lifted. + +"You may get up now," Greg admonished his captive, as he leaped +to his feet. + +"You've accounted for one of the enemy," smiled Captain Ribaut, +as he came up. + +"Captured him at the first pop out of the box," Holmes declared +proudly. "I told him to lie still, and he surely did. I'd have +hurt him if he had tried to get away." + +"How did you take him?" Ribaut asked, kneeling beside the still man. + +"Threw him with an old football tackle." + +"The Hun's neck is broken," reported the French captain, raising +the enemy's head and letting it fall. + +"What's that?" Greg demanded astonished. "Say, you're right, +aren't you? And to think of all the good fighting I missed through +holding on to that 'prisoner'! Dick will tease the life out of +me! By the way, where is he?" + +"I thought he went this way," Ribaut answered. "We must find +him. I hope he wasn't hurt." + +Thoroughly alarmed Greg wheeled and darted along the trench, looking +for his chum. Then he raced back, going off in the opposite direction. + +"Prescott isn't here!" he gasped, and sprang up at the parapet. + +"Here! Don't do that," Major Wells called to him, in a low voice. + +But there was no stopping Holmes. Bending low he raced along in +front of the trench, looking for the body, dead or alive, of his chum. + +Dick, however, was not to be found. Greg continued the search +desperately. + +Had the Germans sent up flares just then, and turned on their +machine guns, Greg would have made an inevitable mark. + +Captain Ribaut, more practical, sent a French corporal through +the nearby sections for word of Captain Prescott. + +"Captain Holmes, return to the trench," Major Wells ordered, in +a hoarse whisper. + +So Greg obeyed, in time almost to bump into Captain Ribaut. + +"Four men from this platoon are missing, and presumably were captured +by the enemy," said that officer. "I much fear that Captain Prescott +was also taken away by the enemy." + +"What? Captured by the Huns?" Greg demanded, divided between +amazement and consternation. "Dick captured? Let me lead a force +over to the enemy line to bring him back!" + +"Only the division commander could sanction that," replied Captain +Ribaut, with grave sympathy. "And it is never done, Captain." + +"Oh, I wish I had B company at my back, with A company thrown +in for good measure!" quivered Greg. "But say, can't there be +a mistake? Didn't Prescott go back wounded?" + +"No; I have sent to the dressing station, and he was not seen +there," Captain Ribaut replied. + +At first Greg couldn't believe that his chum had been captured. +When the probability of it did dawn on him nothing but his position +as an officer kept him from sitting down on the fire step and +sobbing. + +"I'd sooner know he was killed than that he had fallen into Hun +hands," Holmes sputtered. "But, if they have got him, then I'll +make a business of mistreating Germans after this!" + +Capture was precisely what had happened to Dick Prescott. It +was not for long that he had remained dazed. Two German soldiers +fairly dragged him across No Man's Land, his heels bumping over +the rough ground. + +Dick vaguely knew when the same men lifted him slightly and dropped +him, feet first, into the German trench. He fell forward to his +knees, and a German non-com raised him to his feet. + +"What place is this?" Dick demanded. But he knew as soon as he +heard laughing German voices around him. + +"Well, if I'm captured, I gave a good account of myself first," +Prescott muttered as he shook himself together, "I first captured +two German spies and a German colonel and turned them over to +the French. But poor old Greg! I'd almost sooner be in my present +boots than in his, for he'll be frantic when he finds this out." + +The same two German soldiers who had dragged him across No Man's +Land were now permitted the honor of piloting their distinguished +captive back from the line. Leading him into a communication +trench, they started with him for the rear. + +Though he still felt dizzy, Dick found his head clearing as he +moved along. He was able to judge that he had walked half a mile +through the communication trench, then at least another half-mile +along a road before he was halted at a hole in the ground. + +"Go down here," said one of the men in German, and pushed Dick +down a long flight of steps, leading to a large, electrically +lighted dug-out at least twenty-five feet below the earth's surface. + +"Only prisoners of rank received here, without orders," said a +sergeant near the foot of the stairs. + +"But this man is a captain," returned one of the captors. + +"Of what army?" + +"The American." + +"Bring the prisoner here!" ordered a voice from the further end +of the underground room. + +Dick was hustled along, bringing up at last in front of a long +table, behind which sat three German officers. + +"You are an American?" asked the officer who sat between the other +two. He spoke in English. + +"Yes," Dick admitted. + +"Of what regiment?" demanded the questioner. + +"Infantry regiment," Dick replied. + +"Yes, but how is your regiment known?" + +"As an infantry regiment," Dick answered, though he knew well what +was wanted of him. + +"Are your American regiments numbered?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"How is yours numbered?" + +"Numbered among the best, I believe," Dick returned, with a smile. + +"You are a captain?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you know what I mean to ask, and you must not try to trifle +with me. How is your regiment numbered? What is the number of +your regiment?" + +"Numbered among the best, as I told you." + +"How long have you been in France?" + +"Long enough to like its people, meaning those who belong here, not +those who have come into France by force of arms." + +"Captain, is your regiment on the line yet?" + +"It's a line regiment, of course," Prescott replied dumbly. + +"Captain," spoke the questioner angrily, "you must not try to +make game of us! If you do not answer our questions you will +regret it." + +"And if I did answer them I'd feel ashamed of myself," Dick smiled +blandly. "I'm going to take the liberty of asking you a question. +If you were captured and questioned, how much would you tell that +would injure Germany?" + +"I'd tell nothing," replied the German officer stiffly. + +"Same here," Dick went on smilingly. "I'm as strong for my country +as you are for yours." + +"But, Captain, you will have to tell us your name and rank, also +the designation of your organization. That has to be entered +on our records." + +"I am Captain Richard Prescott, captain of infantry, United States +Army," Dick returned, in a business-like way. "But when you go +further, and ask me for information about the American Army, you +need expect no sensible answers." + +"Take this man to the temporary prisoners' camp, and see that +he is put in the officers' section," said the questioner to the +two guards who had brought Dick in. + +So Dick was led out again, and once more escorted along a road. +He judged that the walk from dug-out to camp must have been at +least two miles in length. The "prison" to which he found himself +taken consisted of a high barbed wire enclosure, with a small +wooden building at one end, and another end of the enclosure fenced +off for officers. + +Into the building Dick was taken first. It contained only one +room and was evidently used as a booking and record office. + +Again he was asked his name by an officer behind a desk. As before +Prescott refused to state anything further than that his name was +Richard Prescott, and that he was a captain of infantry in the +American Army. + +"But you will have to tell us more than that," objected the German +officer blandly. + +"I'll answer any questions you may put to me," promised Dick, +"but I won't agree, in advance, to answer them truthfully." + +Another bald effort was made to force him to answer questions, +but Dick gave evasive replies that carried no information. + +"Take the fellow to the officers' section," ordered the man at +the desk, at last. + +So through a dark yard Prescott was led between rows of prisoners +sleeping on the ground. Some of them, too cold and miserable +to sleep, stirred uneasily as the newcomers passed by. + +It was the same in the officers' section. Though the night was +cold, all prisoners were sleeping on bare ground in the open. + +There were some four hundred prisoners in this lot, all French +except Prescott. + +In the officers' section he found some twenty men, also all French. +Two of them sat up as Dick entered. + +"Hola!" cried one of them in his own tongue. "You are an American?" + +"Yes," Prescott admitted. + +"Come and join us. We have the best bed in this camp." + +"It looks as if it might be hard," smiled Dick, glancing down +at the men. + +"Hard, but not so bad, after all," replied the other officer. +"See, we have removed our overcoats and spread them on the ground. +And we have two blankets over us. Come under the blankets with +us, and we shall all be warmer." + +Dick hesitated. He wondered if he wouldn't be crowding them out +of their none too good protection against the night air. + +"If you get in with us," urged the first, "it will make us all +warmer." + +On the face of it that looked reasonable, provided he did not +crowd either out under the edge of the blankets. + +"Oh, there will be plenty of room," one of them assured him. +"We can lie very close together. And you have no blanket if you +sleep by yourself." + +So Dick allowed himself to be persuaded. Then, to his surprise, +they insisted that he get in the middle between them. This, too, +he finally accepted, but repaid them in part by taking off his +trench coat and spreading it over the blankets in such a way that +all three gained added warmth from it. + +"How long have you been here?" Dick asked. + +"Two weeks," replied one of the pair. "It is a wretched life. Had +I known how bad it was I would have forced my captors to kill me." + +That was cheering news, indeed! + +"We must sleep now," spoke the other officer. "There is little +sleep be to had here in the daytime, and then we can talk." + +Dick lay awake a long time. A prisoner in the hands of the Huns! +All he had heard of the wretched treatment accorded prisoners +by the Germans came back to him. At least he had the satisfaction +of knowing that he was not a prisoner through any act of his own. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ON A GERMAN PRISONER TRAIN + + +At last he fell asleep. When he awoke the sun was shining in his +face. He was alone, for his bed-fellows of the night were already +astir. They had tucked him in as warmly as possible before leaving +him. + +Closing his eyes, Dick slumbered again. When he next opened his +eyes he sat up. + +"Good morning, comrade!" called one of the two between whom he +had slept. + +"Ah, good morning," Prescott answered in French, and stood up. +"My, but the mattress in this bed is a beastly one." + +The officer who addressed him, a young man of twenty-five or so, +laughed good-humoredly. + +"What time is breakfast to be had here?" Dick asked. + +"I fear, comrade, that we shall not have any this morning, for +the news is that we are to be entrained to-day and sent away." + +"To Germany?" + +"It must be. And on embarkation mornings no food is served." + +"They start us away hungry?" Dick asked. + +"Always, so I have been told. But you are not missing much, comrade, +for you are not yet accustomed to the food the Germans feed their +prisoners, and no one eats much of it until he has been hungry +for a few days. Then something like an appetite for the stuff comes +to one." + +Finding himself somewhat chilled and cramped Prescott began to go +briskly through some of the Army setting-up exercises. + +"That is a fine thing to warm the blood," said one of the French +officers, "but I warn you that it will make you hungry." + +The other French officers now came forward to make themselves +known to the only American officer in this prison camp. + +"We are moving to-day," said one. "Will it be better in the new +prison than here, do you think?" Prescott asked. + +"In some ways at least. We shall undoubtedly be housed in a wooden +building, and that should be warmer at night. Besides, I hear +we are permitted straw mattresses when in Germany." + +"That begins to sound like luxury," laughed Dick. + +"And there our friends can send us food through neutral agencies." + +"Do you suppose, if they do, we shall be allowed to have some +of the food?" Dick asked. + +"Some of it, at least, or our friends would quickly stop sending +it to us when they heard from us that we did not get it." + +"It will be a dog's life," broke in another, "even with such better +treatment as may be accorded to officers." + +Dick Prescott's heart was as stout as any American's heart could +be, but as he listened to the talk of his French brothers in arms +he could not help feeling glum. + +For one thing, it was hardly for this that he had sailed from +America to be taken at the outset and to be shut off from all +service with the men of his own country! + +A German under-officer who spoke French came to the wire to call +out: + +"You officers will march from here soon. Begin to get your packs +ready. There must be no delay." + +"It won't take me long," Dick told his new friends. "When captured +I had only my uniform and my pistol. The latter was taken." + +He turned to, however, to help his French brothers who possessed +blankets, water bottles and other small belongings, for some of +them appeared almost too weak to prepare for the march. + +The same order had been given to the enlisted men in the next +enclosure. For a few minutes there was some bustle over getting +petty belongings together and marshaling them into a pack that +could be slung over the back. + +"Officers ready!" ordered the under-officer, returning. "Fall +in by twos and march after me to the office." + +He marched the little detachment through the larger enclosure, +and in through the rear of the office building. Here there was +a roll-call. Then the officers, again in twos, were marched outside, +where a corporal and four soldiers fell in with them as guard. + +Down the road the captured officers were marched for something +like a quarter of a mile. + +"Halt, but keep your places in the ranks," ordered the corporal. +"Any prisoner disobeying will be shot." + +"There is something that promises!" cried Captain Lescault, pointing +to the sky. + +Southward, over the lines, appeared a squadron of swift French +airplanes, coming over the German lines. Almost instantly German +aircraft began to rise from the ground, going to meet the invaders +of the air. + +Over the purring of the engines sounded the sharp, continuous +rapping of machine guns as the opposing craft fought each other. + +Two German planes came crashing down to earth. More appeared +in the air, until the French flyers, outnumbered, turned and flew +back over the French lines. + +"I believe our flyers got what they wanted," whispered the same +French officer to Prescott. + +Five minutes later the Frenchman whispered exultingly: + +"Ah, I was sure of it! Our airmen were spying for the artillery. +Now you shall see things happen." + +In the air sounded a screech. Then, less than three hundred yards +further down the road a French shell exploded, overturning a motor +truck and killing both Germans on its seat. The truck itself was +a wreck. + +Crash! Another shell landed in the road, bowling over two officers +at the head of a body of oncoming soldiers. The next shell landed +in a mass of marching German infantry, killing and wounding several. +Then, for five minutes a hurricane of shells descended on that +road, wrecking trucks, killing and wounding more than a hundred +men in German marching detachments, and chasing all troops from +the road. + +"That does not win the war!" growled the German corporal in charge +of the officer-prisoners. "It is only French mischief!" + +Hardly had the shell hurricane ceased when some hundred men, under +guard, came marching down from the prison camp. These were halted, +at the edge of the field, just behind the officers. + +An hour passed before another detachment of prisoners was marched +down the road and halted. Later more came. Noon had passed before +the final detachment arrived. + +It was wearisome, but Dick Prescott did not feel that he had wasted +his time. Full of the hope of escaping, some day, he had watched +covertly everything that he could see of German army life and +movements behind the fighting line. Also, from several incidents +that he witnessed, he gained a new idea of German military brutality. + +One scene that made his blood boil was when a French officer, a +wounded man, and suffering also from hunger, let himself slide to +a sitting posture on the ground. + +"Here, you!" ordered the German corporal advancing threateningly. +"You have been told that you must stand in line." + +"But our comrade is weak from loss of blood," interposed another +French officer who spoke German. + +"Take that for your meddling," retorted the corporal, landing +the back of his hand stingingly on his informant's face. It was +a humiliating blow, that a prisoner could not resent in kind. + +"Get up," ordered the corporal, "or I shall aid you with my bayonet." + +Though the words were not understood by the sufferer, the gesture +was. He tried to obey, but did not rise fast enough to suit the +corporal. + +"Here," mocked the fellow. "That will help you!" + +His bayonet point passed through the seat of the victim's trousers, +more than pricking the flesh inside. + +"Coward!" hissed Prescott and three of four of the French officers. + +"If you don't like it, and are not civil," raged the corporal +hoarsely, "I shall beat some of you with the butt of my gun." + +Subsequently a French officer who had stepped a foot further than +he was supposed to stand was rebuked by the corporal's gun-butt +striking him on the knee-cap. After that the prisoner limped. + +"These brutes ought to be killed---every one of them!" Dick muttered +disgustedly to a French officer near him. + +"Most of them will be, before this long war is over," nodded the +Frenchman, "but a soldier's death is too fine for such beasts." + +Finally a German officer arrived. Under his crisp orders the +now long column of prisoners moved out into the road, forming +compactly and guarded by at least forty infantrymen. The order +to march was given. With only two halts the prisoners were marched +some eight miles, arriving late in the afternoon at a railway +yard. + +Here the column was halted again for an hour, while the German +officer was absent, presumably, in search of his orders. When +the march was taken up again its course led across a network of +tracks to a long train. + +"Why, these are cattle cars," uttered Prescott, disgustedly, when +the column had been halted along the length of the foremost part +of the train. "And, judging by the odor, these cars haven't been +cleaned." + +"They won't be until we are through riding in them," returned +the French officer at his side. "This is what comes to soldiers +who surrender to the German dogs!" + +Only one car was given over to the officer-prisoners, who were +forced to climb into the unsavory car through a side door. No +seats had been provided, but there was not more than room to stand +up in the stuffy car. Fortunately the spaces between the timbers +of the car sides gave abundant ventilation. + +Into cars to the rear the enlisted prisoners were packed. To +stomachs that had been empty of food all day the odors were +especially distressing. + +As the officer in charge of the prisoners came to the side door +of the first car Dick made bold to prefer a request. + +"We have had no water all day. May we have a bucket of it in +here before the train starts?" + +"There will not be time," replied the German officer coldly, and +moved away. Yet two hours passed, and the train did not start. + +Suddenly German guns behind the front, along a stretch of miles, +opened a heavy bombardment. Dick and his French friends gazed +out at a sky made violently lurid by the reflection of the flashes +of these great pieces. Then the French guns answered furiously, +nor did all the French shells fall upon the German trenches or +batteries. The French knew the location of this railway yard. +Within twenty minutes five hundred large caliber shells had fallen +in or near this yard. Freight and passenger coaches were struck +and splintered. + +Into the forward cattle car bounded the corporal who had tormented +them that day. Behind him, in the doorway, appeared the German +officer. + +"Count the prisoners," ordered the latter, "and make sure that +all are there. We are going to pull out of here before those +crazy French yonder destroy all our rolling stock." + +Fifteen minutes later, though the French shell-fire had ceased +coming this way, the train crawled out of the yard. It ran along +slowly, though sometime in the night it increased its speed. + +Dick Prescott will never forget the misery of that night. When +the train was under way the cold was intense in these half-open +cattle cars. No appeal for water to drink was heeded. + +Despite their discomforts, most of the prisoners managed to sleep +some, though standing up. + +In the middle of the night Prescott awoke, stiff, nauseated, hungry +and parched with tormenting thirst. Though he did not know it +at that moment, the train had halted because of a breakdown in a +train ahead. + +Along the track came that tormenting corporal. While a soldier +held up a dim lantern the corporal unlocked the padlock, sliding +the side door back. + +At that moment an order was bawled lustily in German. + +"Will you be good enough to repeat, Herr Lieutenant?" called the +corporal, glancing backward down the length of train. + +Heavy footsteps were heard approaching. Corporal and private +turned to take a few steps back to meet their officer. Dick, +standing in the open doorway, saw that a fog had settled down +over the night. + +Acting on a sudden impulse, without an instant's hesitation, he +leaped down, striking softly on the balls of his feet. Without +even turning sideways to see if German eyes had observed him, +Prescott stole across another track, and down to the foot of an +embankment. + +"They'll shoot me for this!" he muttered. "Let them! Death is +better than being a German prisoner!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SEEKING DEATH MORE THAN ESCAPE + + +In another instant the French officer who had been standing next +to Dick attempted the same trick. He had just gained the ground +when the German lieutenant, turning his gaze from the corporal's +face, and glancing ahead, broke off in the middle of his instructions +to cry out: + +"There's a prisoner escaping! Halt him or shoot him!" + +Realizing that he was hopelessly caught, and trusting to better +luck next time, the Frenchman held up his hands. + +"Get back into the car," ordered the German lieutenant. "Corporal, +take the lantern and see that all the prisoners are in there." + +As the corporal obeyed, the lieutenant looked in and nodded. + +"There was no time for any to escape," he remarked. "We nipped +the first one. You are scoundrels when you try to disgrace me +by escaping. Just for the attempt of this comrade of yours, gentlemen, +you shall have no breakfast in the morning." + +The door was moved quickly into place, the padlock snapped, and +then the guard turned to other matters. + +Not a French officer in that car but would sooner have died than +betray the fact that Dick had slipped out of sight. Though they +themselves were still in the car, they prayed that he might find +either safety from the Germans, or that better thing than captivity, +death. + +As for Captain Prescott, he had slipped into a field beyond. +When he halted to peer about he was perhaps sixty feet from the +train. Moving cautiously he made the distance another hundred +feet. Yet he did not dare to go far at present, nor rapidly. + +"I'm out of the car, if nothing more," Dick reflected, inhaling +a deep breath of the foggy air. "I shall always feel grateful +to that German engineer. His blowing off steam made noise enough +so that my jump and my footsteps weren't heard." + +One of Dick's feet, moving exploringly, touched a stone. Bending +over and groping, he found three fair-sized stones. + +"Good enough!" he thought, picking them up. "Sooner or later, +to-night, wandering around in an American uniform, I'm going to +be heard and halted. I'll throw these stones at the sentry who +tries to halt me, and then he'll fire. After he shoots there'll +be no German prison ahead for me!" + +This wasn't exactly a thought in the cheerful class, yet Prescott +smiled. More contented with his prospects he moved softly away. + +For the first hundred feet from the embankment his shoes touched +grass. Then he came to the edge of a ploughed field. Here he +felt that he must proceed with even greater caution, for now most +of the train noises had ceased and he feared to slip or stumble, +and thus make a noise that might be carried on the still night +air to the ears of the train guard. + +However, he soon struck a smooth path leading through the ploughed +ground, and now moved along a little faster. + +"This is just where caution ought to pay big dividends," he told +himself. "A path is usually made to lead to where human beings +live and congregate. I'll stop every few feet and listen." + +The first sound that came to his ears from out of the veiled distance +ahead made the young American officer almost laugh aloud. It was +the crowing of a rooster. + +"If you know how hungry I am, my bird, I doubt if you'd make any +noise to draw me your way." + +However, the crowing had given him a valuable clew, for he reasoned +that the barnyard home of Mr. Rooster must be near the general +buildings of a farm. These buildings he decided to avoid. So, +when he came to a fork in the path he chose the direction that +led him further from what he believed to be the location of the +farm buildings. + +By this time he was moving more rapidly, though striving to make +no noise in moving. Suddenly he came to a road and stopped, gasping. + +"I don't want anything as public as this," Dick told himself. +"Troops use roads. However, as I've reached the road, and want +to get as far from the train as possible, I believe I'll take +a look from the other side of the road. There may be a field +there better suited to my needs." + +Directly opposite, at the other edge of the road, two tree trunks +reared themselves close together, looking tall and gaunt against +the white of the fog. After listening a moment Dick started to +cross the road to them. + +Just as he reached the trunks he saw something move around the +further one, and drew back quickly. It was well that he did so, +for the moving thing was a man armed with an axe which he had +swung high and now tried to bring down relentlessly on Prescott's +head. + +But Dick's arms shot up, his hands catching the haft and wrenching +the ugly weapon away from its wielder. + +"No, you don't!" Dick muttered in English, taking another step +backward from the wild-looking old peasant who had attempted to +brain him. + +"But a thousand pardons, monsieur!" cried the old man hoarsely +in French, and now shaking from head to foot. "I did not see +well in the fog, and I mistook you for a German. You are a British +soldier!" + +"An American soldier," Dick replied in the same tongue. + +"Then, had I killed you, grief would have killed me, too, as it +has already sent my wits scattering. For I am a Frenchman and +hate only Germans." + +"Is this a safe place to stand and discuss the Germans?" asked +Dick mildly, in a voice barely above a whisper. "This road-----" + +"No, no! It is not safe here," protested the peasant. "Soldiers +and wagons move over this road. That was why I was here. I hoped +to find some German soldier alone, to leap on him and kill him---and +I thought you a German until after I had swung at you. Heaven +is good, and I have not to reproach myself for having struck at +the American uniform. But you are in danger here. You are-----" + +"An escaped prisoner," Dick supplied in a whisper. "I have just +escaped from the Germans." + +"If you are quick then, they shall not find you," promised the +old man, seizing Dick by the arm. "Come! I can guide you even +through this fog." + +There was something so sincere about the old peasant, despite +his wildness, that Prescott went with him without objection. +Both moving softly, they stepped into another field, the guide +going forward as one who knew every inch of the way. + +Presently buildings appeared faintly in the fog. + +"Wait here," whispered the peasant, and was gone. He soon came +back. + +"There are no German soldiers about the place," the old man informed +Dick. "I will take you into the house---hide you. You shall +have food and drink!" + +Food and something to drink! To Dick Prescott, at that moment, +this sounded like a promise of bliss. + +To a rear door the old man led the American, and inside, closing +and bolting the door after him. Here the man struck a light, +and a candle shed its rays over a well-kept kitchen. + +As Dick laid the axe down in a corner he heard a sobbing sound +from a room nearby. + +"It is the dear old wife," said the peasant, in an awed tone. +"To-day the German monsters took our son and our daughter, and +marched them off with other young people from the village. They +have been taken to Germany to toil as slaves of the wild beasts. +Do you wonder, monsieur, that the good wife sobs and that I haunted +the road hoping to find a German soldier alone and to slay him? +But I must hide you, for Germans might come here at any moment." + +Throwing open a door the old man revealed a flight of stairs. +He led the way to a room above. Here a door cunningly concealed +behind a dresser was opened after the guide had moved the dresser. +At a sign Dick entered the other room, only to find himself confronted +by another man, whose face, revealed by the candle light, caused +Captain Dick Prescott to recoil as though from a ghost. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CAN IT BE THE OLD CHUM? + + +"You know each other?" cried the old peasant, as he observed the +amazement of two young men. "You are enemies?" + +As he saw the pair fairly hug each other he added hastily: + +"But no! You are friends!" + +Then he added, as if he were saying something new: + +"Friends, quite certainly." + +"You, Dick Prescott!" gasped the other young man. + +"Tom Reade!" uttered the young captain delightedly. + +The old peasant held the candle higher that he might see better +what was taking place. In that light Dick made another discovery. + +"Tom, you're in uniform! Aviation service, at that!" + +"What else did you expect?" Tom demanded. "Especially after I +wrote and told you all about it." + +"When?" + +"Last July." + +"Where did you send the letter?" + +"To you at Camp Baker." + +"It was in July that we left Camp Baker for Camp Berry. Your +letter must have gone astray. I heard from the old home town +of Gridley that you and Hazelton had gone across---something to +do with welfare work. I couldn't make it out," Dick hurried on," +neither did I know where to address you." + +"That's just it, though!" exclaimed Tom Reade, with a happy laugh. +"Welfare work explains it to a dot. We're working for the welfare +of the world by helping to kill as many Huns as possible!" + +"But how came you to be here?" + +"I might ask as much of you, Dick, as you and I appear to be in +exactly the same boat." + +It looked rather ungrateful toward the old peasant who had brought +these old, old friends together, but for a few moments both forgot +him. When they remembered him they found that the old man had +gone, closing the door. + +Then Dick told what had befallen him, after which Reade explained +that, three nights before, on a night flight over the German lines, +his plane had been damaged by a fragment of shell from an anti-aircraft +gun. Reade had been obliged to descend some forty miles behind +the German front lines. Fortunately he had come down in a field +near the house in which he now hid. He had cautiously come to +this house, and as cautiously aroused the inmates, reasoning that +they must be French and should befriend him. This the peasants +had cheerfully done. + +"I've been hiding here since, and my machine was found, but I +wasn't," Tom wound up. + +"You see, this room has no windows, and I keep very quiet, and +so, perhaps, I could remain here safely a month. But I won't. +I have plans for escape back to the French lines." + +At this moment the door opened again. The old peasant came in +with a tray on which was a dish of smoking meat, dark bread and +potatoes and a pot of coffee. + +"Now, since you are old friends I shall leave you," said the old +man smiling, as he patted both young Americans on the shoulder. +"But Monsieur Reade knows how to call me if I am wanted. Good +rest and stout hearts, young gentlemen!" + +"We'll feast a bit!" cried Prescott eagerly. + +"You will," Tom corrected. "I've had my evening meal and am not +hungry. Eat before the candle burns out, and while you do so +I will fix the ventilator for the night. When you have eaten +we can turn in on the bed, for we can talk there as well as when +sitting in the dark." Dick fell to ravenously on the food and +coffee, while Tom attended to ventilation by removing a loose +brick from a chimney, half of which was in this blind attic. + +"We must pay this peasant well," Dick proposed, when he had nearly +finished the meal, "for I'll wager he is not rich." + +"I can pay him all right," declared Reade, striking a hand against +his waist-line. "In my money belt I have a stock of American +gold. Gold is a money that is very popular in Europe in these +days of hardship." + +Later the chums disrobed and turned in. There was abundance of +covering to the bed. + +"Now," proposed Tom Reade, talking in whispers, "for my plan of +escape. It's dangerous, and it sounds impossible, fantastic. +But now that you're here, Dick Prescott, I feel equal to putting +anything through! So here's for the plan!" + +It was dangerous enough, certainly, as Tom Reade outlined it. +It didn't even strike Captain Prescott as being possible of performance, +but he didn't say so. It was the only plan of escape that presented +itself, and Tom had evidently put in all his hopes on that idea. + +From the plan the chums fell to talking of other days. In the +end, however, their whispers became more indistinct, then died +out. Both were asleep. + +Dick, as he slumbered and tossed, still felt the motion of that +hideous prison train, but at last fell into deep slumber. + +When he finally awoke he beheld Tom Reade, fully dressed in his +uniform, seated at some distance under a little opening in the +roof, reading a book. + +"Awake, eh?" asked Tom, when he heard his chum stir. After glancing +at his wrist watch, he added: + +"You've slept nine hours and a half, and I guess you needed it. +There is water for washing, and I'll consult our host about breakfast. +What do you think of this way of letting in daylight? Toward +night I shove this black cover over the hole in the roof, so that +candle light may not show through the roof and give us away to +the Germans." + +Stepping to the chimney, from which the "ventilator" brick was +still absent, Reade put his hand inside, finding a cord and giving +it a gentle tug. + +By the time that Prescott was partly dressed the door opened and +the old peasant looked in. + +"We are wondering what you can give us for breakfast?" Tom said +in French. "Are eggs to be had to-day? Omelettes?" + +"Yes, I can get eggs," nodded the old man. + +"As you've not seen the color of my money yet," Tom continued, +"please take this on account." + +At first the old peasant hung back from accepting the proffered +gold coin, though at last he took it, remarking: + +"I will admit that I am poor, and yet it seems a crime to accept +money from an American." + +Half an hour later their host returned, bringing two hot omelettes, +dark bread, potatoes and the inevitable pot of coffee. + +"It is with difficulty that we keep food hidden," he murmured, +in a low voice. "A dozen times the Huns have appeared and have +taken from us all the food they could find. But we still have +flour, potatoes and coffee hidden where they cannot find them. +We shall hope to continue to exist until you Americans have helped +drive the Hun from our land." + +From the nearby road came the sound of moving trucks. The old +man paused and shook his fist in the direction of the sound. +After he had served the breakfast he climbed upon a stool, putting +his eyes to the hole in the sloping roof and peering toward the +road. + +"Ah, the vermin!" he hissed. "A regiment of their accursed infantry +marching toward the front. Oh, that your men and ours might kill +them all this day!" + +"Give us time, and we'll do it," Tom promised unconcernedly. + +After breakfast the two chums talked almost without stopping until +it was time for luncheon. In the afternoon Tom stretched, then +walked toward the bed, declaring: + +"When one has no chance to exercise I believe sleep to be the +next best thing, even extra sleep. I believe that I can sleep +until supper time. And after that---perhaps it will be tonight, +Dick, that we make our fantastic effort to place ourselves on +the other side of the German battle front!" + +"The sooner the better," cried Dick, "only provided that speed +does not waste our chance to escape." + +"If we must go down in defeat," yawned Reade, "I believe we may +at least look for the satisfaction of carrying a few Huns with +us. I believe I have forgotten to mention the fact that I have +my automatic pistol with me. It's hidden, but I could show it +to you." + +"I'm glad you have it," murmured Dick, as he closed his eyes. +"I never before felt the desire to slay human beings, but since +I've struck the French front I've had a constant desire to kill +Huns!" + +"To-night, then," said Reade drowsily, "we may find the chance +both to kill Huns and get back to the French lines." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DASH TO GET BACK TO PERSHING + + +"After dark, by a whole hour!" whispered Reade, after waking, +striking a match and looking at his wrist watch. "Hustle, Dick!" + +Tom's next act was to light a candle. "Want supper?" he asked. + +"I could eat it," Prescott replied. "But what's the use?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why waste time with eating when there's the slimmest chance to +get away?" Dick continued. + +"It may be hours before we can really put our plan into execution." + +"Our plan?" repeated Dick. "What on earth did I have to do with +making the plan? But, if you feel that we're not wasting time +over a supper I'll admit that I am ready to eat." + +So Reade summoned their host, as before. + +"Is the night good and foggy?" Tom asked, when the aged peasant +appeared. + +"There is not a trace of fog, monsieur," was the reply. "Still, +the sky is cloudy, and the night is dark." + +"That's only second-best weather," grumbled Reade. "However, +I'm impatient to have a try to-night. I think we will try for +it. Can you help us?" + +"Undoubtedly I can find out how clear the coast is," replied the +old man. "I would be glad to do far more than that for you." + +"If you can supply us with supper," Tom proposed, "and then find +out the news, it will be a great service." + +Later, while the chums ate, the old peasant went abroad. Tom +and Dick were waiting impatiently until he returned. + +"All is as well as it will be any night," the Frenchman reported, +and added details. + +"We'll try it, then," Reade decided, after glancing at Prescott, +who nodded. + +"And may you succeed!" cried the old peasant fervently. "And +may you both come safely through the war, and have the good fortune +to slay Huns and Huns and Huns!" + +"Promise me, my good old friend, to use your axe only for chopping +wood," Dick urged, + +"And I will promise to think of you whenever I have the chance +to destroy a Hun." + +"It is a bargain, then!" cried their host. + +"It will be kept, on my side," Dick rejoined gravely. + +"And on mine, too," agreed the old man. + +It was quiet abroad when the three stealthily left the house. +The Americans had wished to leave a word of cheer with the peasant's +wife, but she had fallen asleep and they would not disturb her. + +Through a wood and across fields their guide led the young Americans +until they neared the spot they sought. + +"From here on one will have to be cautious," suggested the Frenchman. +"You are about to cross a road, and then, on the other side, +one comes to the aviation station." + +"Then here is where you should leave us," Dick remarked considerately. +"Very likely we shall fail and be sent on to a prison camp, this +time in irons. Perhaps we shall be shot. But we do not care +to let an old man, and a Frenchman follow us to a death that he +should not invite." + +"I would go with you until I see you safely in sight of the station," +objected the Frenchman. + +"It seems unnecessary, and contemptible in us to risk your life +along with our own. Do you understand the lay of the land, Tom? +Can you find our objective without risking the life of our good +old friend here?" + +"I am sure that I can," Reade nodded. "Like yourself, Dick, I +feel that he should not come further with us. And see here, monsieur. +You have not asked our names, neither have we known yours. Some +day, when all around here is French territory again, and the beastly +German has gone forever, we shall want to look you up, or write +you. I am Lieutenant Tom Reade, of the American aviation service, +and my friend is Captain Richard Prescott, of the American Infantry." + +"And I am Francois Prim. My neighbors call me Papa Prim." + +"Show us the way we are to go, Monsieur Prim," Dick urged. + +"It is simple," replied Papa Prim. "You see, without fail, the +little building to which I am pointing, over by the roadside?" + +"Yes." + +"That was our school-house. Now it is an office for the Prussians. +They have a battalion or more of infantry camped in the field +across from the building. They are a guard to keep us afraid. +Sometimes one will see three or four regiments camped further +along on that field, either regiments going to the front or coming +back for rest. Now, from that building you turn and go in that +direction"---Papa Prim made a motion with his crooked +forefinger---"and so you come to four sheds that are easily missed +in the night, for they are camouflaged so as not to attract the eye +of French flyers in the day time. From here it will be the first +shed that you come to that is more likely to be open at night. +In each shed are two airplanes. They are kept here for the purpose +of sending up at night when French planes pass over to bomb railways +or perhaps to bomb German towns. When our own French airmen come +then these airplanes shoot up into the sky and give battle. But +the Huns have lost twelve planes here in half that number of months," +Papa Prim added proudly, "and only lately have enough new ones +arrived from Germany to make up the eight required for this station." + +"Where do the airmen sleep?" Dick interjected. + +"In the camp with the troops; in the hangars there are no sleeping +places." + +"And the hangars are at some distance from the troop camp?" Tom +asked. + +"The troop camp begins over that way," Papa Prim continued, pointing, +"for, as you will understand, there must be ground on which the +airplanes may run before they rise. So there is some distance. +I came near forgetting to tell you that, behind the hangars, are +four tents in which the hangar guard sleeps." + +"And how many sentries at a time walk post around the hangars?" +Dick inquired. + +"I do not know," confessed Papa Prim, "but I do not believe there +are more than three or four sentries on duty at a time. Of course, +there are other sentries on post at the camp." + +"And airships leaving fly directly over the camp?" Tom wanted +to know. + +"You have said truly," replied Papa Prim. "And are there anti-aircraft +guns in the camp?" Tom asked. + +"In the troop camp, so I have heard, but I have not seen them," +answered Papa Prim. + +Removing his steel helmet and taking it in his left hand, Dick +bent over, seizing Papa Prim's hand. + +"Good-bye for a little while, monsieur," he said earnestly. "We +go away with hearts full of gratitude to your own fine, loyal +heart. May you prosper and be happy, with your children safely +returned from Germany. May all good things in life be with you. +Our thanks will always be with you, and our thoughts often of +you, monsieur." + +Tom Reade took leave of Papa Prim in equally hearty and grateful +words. + +The two Americans watched the slim, bent old figure plodding homeward. +After looking the ground over critically, they stole forward +on their way. + +"I didn't want him to see what disagreeable business we may have +on our hands within a few minutes," Dick whispered. "But see +here, Tom, I've just remembered that you didn't pay Papa Prim +for all his trouble, as you had planned." + +"Didn't I?" Reade chuckled. "I did it without any dispute from +him, either. Dick, I wrapped five twenty-dollar American gold +pieces in cloth, so they wouldn't jingle, and stuffed the whole +tightly into a small canvas bag. While you were talking I slipped +it into one of his blouse pockets. Papa Prim will find the money +there, and he'll know who put it there, but he won't be able to +return it." + +"American gold?" Dick echoed. "If the Germans ever know of his +having American gold they'll think it reason enough for hanging +him." + +"No, they won't," Tom retorted, "though they would undoubtedly +think it reason enough for taking the money away from him. But +I've seen plenty of American gold in France, and plenty of English +gold, too. Anywhere in the world gold is gold, and having American +gold isn't proof, during this war, that the possessor got it from +an American. I'll wager that there is plenty of American gold +locked up even in Germany. But the Germans will never find Papa's +gold. Papa Prim will hide it until the day comes when, like the +good Frenchman that he is, he can turn that gold into a French +war bond." + +Nearing the former school-house that had been pointed out to them, +the two chums took their bearings afresh. Crossing the road one +at a time, with utmost stealth, they reached the other side without +having been challenged. + +A little further on they espied a German sentry, pacing post. +Waiting until the fellow had gone to the furthest limit of his +post, the chums, flat on their stomachs, crawled forward until, +on looking backward, they judged it safe to rise and move on crouchingly. +Then they came in sight of the aviation station. + +"Better crawl all the way now," Dick whispered. "We have reached +the point where any attempt at speed will be sure to place a few +bullets in our bodies." + +Tom nodded, without speaking. It was trampled, withered grass +through which they now crawled. It offered fair concealment, but +there was danger of making a noise that might betray them to a +keen-eared sentry. + +At last, near the first hangar, they reached a spot where two +trees stood close together. Crawling to this shelter, they still +remained lying down, though the tree trunks gave them greater +safety against being seen. + +In front of the hangars paced a sentry; at the rear another soldier +walked post. At some distance from this latter sentry stood four +tents, in which, Papa Prim had declared, slept the reliefs of +the guard. + +"I see how we could get the sentry at the rear," Dick whispered, +after a few minutes' silent survey. "But it's at the front that +we want to get in, and I don't see any way of creeping up on the +front sentry without the rear sentry seeing us and firing. That +would give the alarm." + +"Then we've got to 'get' the rear sentry first?" Tom asked, his +lips at his chum's ear. + +"That's it." + +"Nasty business, and double chance of losing the game." + +"It's the only way, Tom, unless your head is working better than +mine." + +For some minutes Tom Reade studied. + +"I guess it will have to be the rear sentry first," he conceded. + +At that moment a small door at the rear of the hangar opened. +The two friends heard the noise, and judged by sound more than sight. + +"Sentry!" said the man who had stepped outside, in a low voice. + +"Herr Lieutenant!" responded the man. "I am not locking the door, +sentry. I shall be back before long." + +"Very good, Herr Lieutenant." Passing to the front of the hangar +this German aviation lieutenant waited until the sentry there +had reached him, then delivered the same information, after which +the aviation officer strode off briskly toward the troop camp +that could be only vaguely seen in the distance. + +"It sounds as if he intended to make a flight," whispered Dick +uneasily. + +"That wouldn't be so bad," Reade replied. "It will be worse if +his machine is out of order and he is coming back to fuss over it." + +"We must make our break now," Prescott whispered. + +"Lead the way," answered Reade. Fortunately, at this moment, +the sentries were at the outer ends of their posts. Bending low, +keeping his gaze on the sentries, Dick scurried noiselessly over +the ground until he paused, erect and panting, under the shadow +of the building near the rear. + +So far safe, for Reade was with him an instant later. While the +rear sentry finished his post at this end just beyond the hangar, +the front sentry, as far as had been observed, came only as far +as the sliding doors of the hangar. + +"Get your automatic ready!" Dick whispered. Then they heard the +rear sentry coming toward them. + +There came that tense instant when the sentry's passing form loomed +up within three feet of Captain Prescott. Losing not an instant +Dick sprang upon him with the bound of a panther. + +There was no outcry, for Dick's fingers sought and found the fellow's +throat, encircling it. Wrenching the enemy soldier off his balance, +Prescott laid him low, the man's bayoneted rifle falling across +his body. + +It was Dick's eyes that said, "Ready, Tom!" Reade hesitated for +a second or so, then struck the prostrate, choking enemy between +the eyes. It was a fearful blow, and the man collapsed. + +"One down, but we must get the other!" Dick whispered sternly. + +They stole forward along the side of the building, Dick in the +lead. Peeping around the corner he saw the sentry almost finishing +the nearer end of his post. Back came Prescott's head like a +shot. He waited until he knew by the tread that the sentry had +turned and was going back over his post. Then it was that Dick +stole upon him from behind. Another leap, a grip around the man's +throat, and sentry number two was on his back, where Reade gave +him the grace blow. + +Without a word the chums picked up this sentry, carrying him around +to the rear. Then Dick sought the small rear door of the hangar. +It opened softly, and they entered, closing it behind them. + +All was darkness in here until Reade, producing his pocket electric +torch, threw a beam of light over the scene. + +While Dick stood still, now holding the automatic pistol, Tom +took a rapid look over each of the two air machines. + +"This nearer one looks like the newer, better one," Reade declared. +"I'll look over the machinery to make sure that the engine is +all right and that I understand the engine and the controls. +Her machine-gun is ready for business and we may need it." + +Dick stood patiently by, wondering how soon the guard was due +to be relieved. If that happened soon, and the knocked-out sentries +were discovered, the chance for escape looked like three less +than nothing! + +"All right," whispered Tom at last. "I can handle her, and there +is water enough in the radiator and the gas tanks are filled. +Now, then, we must open the doors as noiselessly as possible." + +Dick taking the left-hand one, Tom the right, they rolled the +doors back. These moved almost noiselessly. + +"Here's the way you turn the engine on," Tom whispered, holding +the torch and getting Dick up into the cockpit of the craft. +"Turn it on as soon as I say, but not a second before." + +Placing himself in front of the propeller Tom gave it a few brisk +turns. + +"Now!" cried Tom, leaping back. The ignition caught at once. +Tom clambered over into the cockpit, Prescott now being in the +observer's seat forward. + +With the wheel in his hands and his feet resting against the controls +Tom Reade suddenly dropped all apprehension. He was as much at +home now as Prescott was with an automatic pistol in his hand. + +Waiting only until the engine had gained its speed without missing, +Tom cried: + +"Ready, pal!" + +Out through the open doorway Reade sent the airplane "taxying" +or running along the ground. + +Across the field toward them came racing a German aviator with +a startled look on his face. He had to jump out of the way as +the "taxying" airplane bore down on him. But he reached for his +automatic and brought it forth. + +"Stop!" he roared. "Turn out the guard!" Bang! bang! + +Two bullets whizzed by Tom's head. Prescott fired three shots +instantly, one of them taking effect, for the German officer went +to earth and lay there, his pistol now silent. + +From behind the hangar several members of the guard came rushing +from their tents. By the time they were in front of the hangar +they could shoot only by guess, and might hit their own comrades +in the troop camp. So they fired into the air, wildly, rapidly. + +So much shooting was bound to rouse the troop camp, and did. +The sentries came out on the jump. While some fired star shells +that lighted the sky, others took quick aim with their rifles. + +Aiming at the figures on the ground as best he could, just as +Reade left the ground for the air, Prescott fired, loaded and +fired, jamming in a fresh magazine whenever the automatic became +emptied. + +Twenty feet up in the air, fifty, a hundred! Tom Reade rose as +fast as he could make the machine move. More star shells, and +now the anti-aircraft guns came into action. + +At three hundred feet above the ground shells exploded about the +fugitives. One lucky shot of the enemy would be enough to bring +them to earth. + +The pistol was now too hot to use further. Dick sat back, closing +his eyes, while Reade drove at all the speed he could compel, +ever rising higher. Both Americans knew that other anti-aircraft +guns further south would be turned upon them. + +Finally Tom, after a glance at the barograph, roared at Prescott: + +"Five thousand feet up on a dark night, and we're going to fifteen +thousand feet. All we now have to fear will be other German aircraft, +but there'll be fleets of them sent out to look for us!" Prescott +nodded, though he could not hear in the roar of the motors and +the rush of the air past him. + +A mile below them the blackness of the night was punctured by +a lively little volcano of red and yellow jets. A dozen anti-aircraft +guns opened fire on the fugitive airplane, whose course must have +been telephoned along the line. Some of the shells burst so close +that fragments of metal whizzed about the ears of both Americans; +some of the shells went far wide of the mark, but at least two +of the gunners followed the moving craft for the distance of a +mile with an accuracy that caused the two fugitives in the sky +the liveliest uneasiness. The gunners were aiming by the sound +of the engines. + +"Give us fifteen minutes more at this speed," + +Tom roared, "and we'll be back over our own French lines!" + +They were soon going at terrific speed, fifteen thousand feet up +in the air, when a terrifying peril beset them. + +Out of the blackness ahead, bearing straight at them, came a dozen +German airplanes in splendid formation! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +"Hurrah!" yelled Tom Reade. "Sink or swim---but never say die! +Now we'll give it to 'em, real Yankee Doodle, 'over there' style!" + +It sounded like sheer bravado, but Reade was fired with the new +genius of the war. + +Tom headed straight for the nearest plane, and Dick turned the +machine gun loose. Almost immediately he had the great good luck +to cripple that enemy and send the craft fluttering down to earth. + +But another plane had attempted to go under them with a view to +shooting up. It came too near, in the maneuver shot too badly, +and Dick let loose with the machine gun again. Down came the +enemy plane while Reade took a wide swerve to the right. + +So swift and daring had been Reade's tactics that he was through +and past the opposing fleet ere the German aviators realized their +failure. Now the survivors wheeled and gave chase, though they +soon abandoned it, for the plane that Reade drove was a new one +and faster than any of his pursuers. For a minute or so more +the two Americans survived by sheer good luck. Then they were +out of enemy range. + +Higher Tom mounted in the air. Dick fairly chattered with the +cold, but he kept the machine gun ready for instant use. + +A few minutes more, then Tom, shutting off the power for a glide, +inquired, at the top of his voice: + +"Where do you want to be put down?" + +"For choice," Captain Prescott answered, "as close as possible +to General Bazain's divisional headquarters." + +"I know the place," Tom nodded. "There's an aviation station +about three miles beyond there." + +Tom threw on the power, straightened away, and three minutes later +began to glide again until he was not more than six thousand feet +from earth. + +"Keep your eyes turned low," Tom counseled. "Soon we ought to +see something." + +Nor was that "something" long in appearing. Not far ahead, yet +so much below them as to look tiny, hundreds of flashes were seen. + +"German artillery," Dick told himself. + +Another minute, and he beheld flashes turned against the Germans. + +"Between the two lines of artillery are the fire trenches of the +opposing armies," Prescott realized with a thrill. + +Next he found himself, at lower altitude, going squarely over a +line of French batteries. + +"Now comes the really ticklish work of the night!" Reade shouted +back. "When we try for a landing we'll endeavor to make our own +crowd understand that, though this is a German machine, it comes +on no hostile errand. If we can't make the Frenchmen understand +that, then they'll blow us back into the sky as soon as we range +low enough!" + +Guided by that instinct which is the aviator's best compass at +night, Reade steered toward the landing field. + +Bang! came the report of a gun below, and a shell exploded dangerously +close to the aircraft. Tom switched on an electric light signal +beneath the craft to show that a friendly craft sought safe landing. +At the same time Dick leaned as far over as he could and waved +an arm slowly. Then just ahead a flare began on the ground, next +burned up brightly---a can of gasoline lighted and allowed to burn +to indicate the neighborhood in which to come down. + +Going past and turning, Reade volplaned gracefully earthward, +landing just beyond the blazing gasoline. + +Instantly they were surrounded by two-score French aviators and +mechanicians. + +"It is all right!" the cry went up. "They are Americans, though +the machine is German." + +M. le Commandant Perrault, chief of squadron, stepped rapidly +forward, receiving the salute of the two American officers and +asking questions at volley-fire speed. His face betrayed amazement, +but when the brief narrative had been finished he grasped the hands +of each. + +"It was splendidly done," he declared. + +"And now, sir, on behalf of my friend, may I ask how far we are +from the front line?" Tom inquired. "Captain Prescott wishes +to return to the trenches immediately." + +"It is ten kilometers," replied the commandant. "Yet speed shall +not be impossible. Within five minutes I will have here a car +that will take Captain Prescott to the communication trenches, +and in that car will be a trench guide." + +"And I'm going, too, Dick," Tom added, squeezing his chum's arm. +"We have a lot to talk over yet." + +As the German airplane had been turned over to Commandant Perrault, +Reade had no further concern with that. He bounded into the motor +car when it arrived. Later the trench guide conducted them into +the front trenches, even to the section from which Prescott had +been taken. Major Wells was now, with Captain Holmes and Lieutenant +Terry, at a point about a third of a mile to the westward. + +Thither Dick and Tom turned their steps, still with the trench +guide showing the way. Unexpectedly this little party came upon +Major Wells just as the latter was saying: + +"The greatest blow to us was the loss of Captain Prescott. Of +course he may be a prisoner, and unharmed, but we much fear that +he was killed." + +"I beg to report, sir," Dick broke in smilingly, as he saluted, +"that I was not so indiscreet as to be killed." + +Like a flash Major Wells turned upon him. "Prescott!" he cried, +"I can't believe it." But he did, just the same, and, coming +to his senses, went on hastily: + +"General, I have the great happiness of presenting Captain Prescott!" + +Again Dick came to the salute, and when it was finished he stood +very erect, hands straight at his sides, for he had caught sight, +above the horizontal braid on the general's coat, of four stars, +instead of the two stars of a major-general. There was but one +officer in the United States service who could wear four stars---the +American Commander-in-chief. + +Under the general's questioning Prescott and Reade, who was also +presented, told their stories with soldierly brevity and directness. + +"And how do you feel now, Captain?" inquired the Commander-in-chief +smiling. + +"Utterly happy, sir, for I've realized my sole ambition for months," +Captain Dick answered fervently. + +"And what was that?" + +"To be in France, with General Pershing, and at grips with mankind's +enemies." + +"You've made a gallant start, Captain," smiled the Commander-in-chief. +"And in that I include your friend, Lieutenant Reade. You are +officers after my own heart." + +Captain Greg Holmes coming upon this scene, stood back as long +as etiquette in the presence of a general demanded, then rushed +forward to give joyous greeting to both chums. + +Dick and his friends were destined to go even further in the +realization of their fondest hopes. Up to this moment the United +States was only in the infancy of her part in the great war. +Greater days were coming, and did come, and what happened then will +be found truthfully set forth in the next volume in this series, +which will be published under the title: + +"_Uncle Sam's Boys Smash The Germans; Or, Helping the Allies Wind +Up the Great World War_." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops +by H. Irving Hancock + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12810 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1dedb2b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12810 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12810) diff --git a/old/12810.txt b/old/12810.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5e09b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12810.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7198 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops +by H. Irving Hancock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops + Dick Prescott at Grips with the Boche + +Author: H. Irving Hancock + +Release Date: July 3, 2004 [EBook #12810] +[Date last updated: September 16, 2005] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNCLE SAM'S BOYS *** + + + + +Produced by Jim Ludwig + + + + + +UNCLE SAM'S BOYS WITH PERSHING'S TROOPS +or +Dick Prescott at Grips with the Boche + + +By H. Irving Hancock + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTERS + I. Dick at Training Camp + II. Greg has to be Stern + III. Bad Blood Comes to the Surface + IV. As it is Done in the Army + V. The Camp Carpenter's Talk + VI. The Enemy in Camp Berry + VII. At Grips with German Spies + VIII. With the Conscientious Objectors + IX. Order for "Over There" + X. On Board the Troopship + XI. In the Waters of the Sea Wolves + XII. The Best of Details! + XIII. Off to See Fritz in His Wild State + XIV. The Thrill of the Fire Trench + XV. Out in No Man's Land + XVI. The Trip Through a German Trench + XVII. Dick Prescott's Prize Catch +XVIII. A Lot More of the Real Thing + XIX. A "Guest" in Prison Camp + XX. On a German Prisoner Train + XXI. Seeking Death More Than Escape + XXII. Can It Be the Old Chum? +XXIII. The Dash to Get Back to Pershing + XXIV. Conclusion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DICK AT TRAINING CAMP + + +His jaw set firmly, his keen, fiery eyes roving over the group +before him, the gray-haired colonel of infantry closed his remarks +with these words: + +"Gentlemen, the task set for the officers of the United States +Army is to produce, with the least possible delay, the finest +fighting army in the world. Our own personal task is to make +this, the Ninety-ninth, the finest regiment of infantry in that +army. + +"You have heard, at some length, what is expected of you. Any +officer present, of any grade, who does not feel equal to the +requirements I have laid down will do well to seek a transfer +to some other regiment or branch of the service, or to send in +his resignation as a military officer." + +Rising to their feet behind the long, uncovered pine board mess +tables at which they had sat listening and taking notes, the eyes +of the colonel's subordinate officers glistened with enthusiasm. +Instead of showing any trace of dissent they greeted their commanding +officer's words with a low murmur of approval that grew into a +noisy demonstration, then turned into three rousing cheers. + +"And a tiger!" shouted a young lieutenant, in a bull-like voice +that was heard over the racket. + +Colonel Cleaves, though he did not unbend much before the tumult, +permitted a gleam of satisfaction to show itself in his fine, +rugged features. + +"Good!" he said quietly, in a firm voice. "I feel assured that +we shall all pull together for the common weal and for the abiding +glory of American arms." + +Gathering up the papers that he had, during his speech, laid out +on the table before him, the colonel stepped briskly down the +central aisle of the mess-room. As it was a confidential meeting +of regimental officers, and no enlisted man was present, one of +the second lieutenants succeeded in being first to reach the door. +Throwing it open, he came smartly to attention, saluting as the +commanding officer passed through the doorway. Then the door +closed. + +"Good!" cried Captain Dick Prescott. "That was straight talk +all the way through." + +"Hit the mark or leave the regiment!" voiced Captain Greg Holmes +enthusiastically. + +"Be a one hundred per cent. officer, or get out of the service!" +agreed another comrade. + +The tumult had already died down. The officers, from Lieutenant-Colonel +Graves down to the newest "shave-tail" or second lieutenant, acted +as by common impulse when they pivoted slowly about on their heels, +glancing at each other with earnest smiles. + +"Gentlemen, our job has been cut out for us. We know the price +of success, and we know what failure would mean for us, personally +or collectively. Going over to quarters, Sands?" + +Thrusting a hand through the arm of Major Sands, Lieutenant-Colonel +Graves started down the aisle. Little groups followed, and the +mess-room of that company barracks was speedily emptied. + +Hard work, not age, had brought the gray frosting into the hair +of Colonel Cleaves; he was forty-seven years old, and not many +months before he had been only a major. + +The time was early in September, in the year 1917. War had been +declared against Germany on April 6th. In the middle of July +the Ninety-o-ninth Infantry had been called into existence. Regiments +were then being added to the Regular Army. Two or three hundred +trained soldiers and several hundred recruits had made up the +beginnings of the regiment. Prescott and Holmes had been among +the latest of the captains sent to the regiment, arriving in August. +And now Colonel Cleaves had just joined his command on orders +from Washington. + +With forty men in the headquarters company and some fifty in the +machine-gun company, the rifle companies on this September day +averaged about seventy men. Nor had a full complement of officers +yet arrived. + +Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes, lately first lieutenants, as readers +of former volumes of this series are aware, had received their +commissions as captains just before joining the Ninety-ninth. + +"This regiment is scheduled to go over at an early date," Colonel +Cleaves had informed his regimental officers, at the conference +of which we have just witnessed the close. "Headquarters and +machine-gun companies must be raised to their respective quotas +of men, and each rifle company must be increased from seventy +to two hundred and fifty men each. New recruits will arrive every +week. These men must be whipped into shape. Gentlemen, I expect +your tireless aid in making this the finest infantry regiment in +the American line." + +One or two glances at Colonel Cleaves, when he was talking earnestly, +were enough to show the observer that this officer meant all he +said. Shirkers, among either officers or men, would receive scant +consideration in his regiment. + +Camp Berry, at which the Ninety-ninth and the Hundredth were stationed, +lay in one of the prettiest parts of Georgia. Needless to say +the day was one of sweltering heat and the regimental officers, +as they filed out of the company barracks that had been used for +holding the conference, fanned themselves busily with their campaign +hats. Each, however, as he struck the steps leading to the ground, +placed his campaign hat squarely on his head. + +"Some pace the K.O. has set for us," murmured Greg, as he and +Dick started to walk down the company street. + +"And we must keep that pace if we hope to last in Colonel Cleaves's +regiment," Dick declared, with conviction. "Time was when an +officer in the Regular Army could look forward to remaining an +officer as long as he was physically fit and did not disgrace +himself. But in this war any officer, regular or otherwise, will +find himself laid on the shelf whenever he fails to produce his +full share of usefulness." + +"Do you think it's really as bad as that, Prescott?" demanded +Captain Cartwright, who was walking just behind them. + +"Worse!" Dick replied dryly and briefly. + +Cartwright sighed, then took a tighter grip on the swagger stick +that he carried jauntily in his right hand. Cartwright was a smart, +soldierly looking chap, but was well known as an officer who was +not addicted to hard work. + +Past three or four barrack buildings on the street the chums walked, +Cartwright still keeping just behind them. + +"Look at the work of Sergeant Mock, will you?" demanded Greg, +halting short as they came to the edge of one of the drill grounds. + +Mock belonged to Greg's own company. At this moment the sergeant +was busy, or should have been, drilling what was supposed to be +a platoon, though to-day it consisted of only two corporals' squads, +or sixteen men in all. + +Greg Holmes's eyes opened wide with disgust as he watched the +drilling, unseen by the sergeant. + +The platoon had just wheeled and marched off by fours. The cadence +was too slow, the men looked slouchy and showed no signs whatever +of spirit. + +"Perhaps the sergeant isn't feeling well," remarked Dick, with +a smile. + +"He won't be feeling well after he has talked with me," Greg uttered +between his teeth. + +To the further limit of the drill ground the sergeant marched +his platoon, then wheeled them and brought them back again. As +he came about the sergeant caught sight of his company commander. +In an undertone he gave an order that brought his men along at +greater speed than they had gone. + +"Halt!" ordered the sergeant, and brought up his hand in salute +to the officers. + +"Sergeant Mock," called Holmes, in a low, even voice, "turn the +men over to a corporal and come here." + +Hastily, and flushing, Sergeant Mock came forward. + +"How are the men feeling?" Greg inquired, after signaling the +corporal now in charge to continue the drilling. + +"Tired, sir," replied Mock, with a shamefaced look. + +"And how is the sergeant feeling?" Greg went on, as the corporal +led the men across the drill ground, this time at a sharper pace +and correcting any fault in soldierly bearing that he observed. + +"All right, sir," replied the sergeant. + +"Then, if you're feeling all right, Sergeant Mock," Greg continued +in as even a voice as before, "explain to me why you were marching +the platoon at a cadence of about ninety, instead of the regulation +hundred and twenty steps per minute. Tell me why the alignment +of the fours was poor, and why the men were allowed to march without +paying the slightest heed to their bearing." + +Though there was nothing at all sharp in the company commander's +voice, Mock knew that he was being "called," and, in fact, was +perilously close to being "cussed out." + +"The---the day is hot, sir, and---and I knew the men were about +played out," stammered Mock. + +"How long have you been in the Army, sergeant?" Greg continued. + +"About two years and a half, sir." + +"In all that time did you ever know officers or enlisted men to be +excused from full performance of ordered duty on account of the +weather?" + +"N-n-no, sir." + +"Then why did you start a new system on your own authority?" Greg +asked quietly. + +Mock tried to answer, opened his mouth, in fact, and uttered a +few incoherent sounds, which quickly died in his throat. + +"Sergeant Mock," said Greg, "we have just heard from our commanding +officer. He demands the utmost from every officer, non-com and +private. Are you prepared, and resolved, from this moment, to give +the utmost that is in you at all times?" + +"Yes, sir!" replied Mock with great emphasis. + +"You mean what you are saying, Sergeant?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very good, then," continued the young captain. "I am going to +take your word for it this time. But if I ever find you slacking +or shirking again, I am going to go to the colonel immediately and +ask him to 'break' you back to the ranks." + +"Yes, sir," assented Mock, saluting. + +"Are you fully familiar with all your drill work?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then remember that our enemies, the German soldiers, are men +who are drilled and drilled until they are perfect in their work, +and that their discipline is amazing. Keep the fact in mind that +we can hardly hope to whip our enemies unless we are at least as +good soldiers as they. That is all. Go back to your men, Sergeant." + +Standing stiffly erect, Sergeant Mock brought up his right hand +in a crisp salute, then wheeled and walked briskly back to join +his men. Greg turned as if to say that he did not feel the need +of remaining to watch the rebuked sergeant. + +"By Jove!" uttered Captain Cartwright. "I do wish, Holmes, you'd +come over and dress down some of my non-coms. I've been trying +for three days to put 'pep' into some of them, and the K.O. frowned +at me this morning." + +"Non-com" is the Army abbreviation for "non-commissioned +officers"---corporals and sergeants---while "K.O." is Army slang +for commanding officer. + +Arrived at an unpainted wooden barracks, in size and appearance +just like those of the enlisted men, the three captains entered +and walked up a flight of stairs to the floor above. Here they +passed through a narrow corridor with doors on both sides that +bore the cards of the officers who slept behind the respective +doors. Cartwright went to his own room, while Greg followed Dick +into the latter's quarters. + +Plain enough was the room, seven and a half feet wide and ten +feet in length, with a single sliding window at the front. Walls +and ceiling, like the floor, were of pine boards. There were +shelves around two sides of the room, with clothing hooks underneath. +Under the window was a desk, with a cot to one side; the rest +of the furniture consisted of two folding camp chairs. + +Entering, Dick hung up his campaign hat on one of the hooks, Greg +doing the same. On account of the heat of the day neither young +captain wore a tunic. Each unbuttoned the top button of his olive +drab Army shirt before he dropped into a chair. + +"What do you think of the new K.O.?" Dick asked, as he picked a +newspaper up from the desk and started to fan himself. + +"He means business," Greg returned. "I am glad he does," Dick +went on. "This is no time for slack soldiering. Greg, I'll feel +consoled for working eighteen hours a day if it results in making +the Ninety-ninth the best infantry regiment of the line." + +"Can it be done?" Greg inquired. + +"Yes." + +"But I've a hunch that every other regiment is striving for the +same honor," Captain Holmes continued. "Ours isn't the only K.O. +who covets the honor of commanding the best regiment of 'em all." + +"It can be done," Dick insisted, "and I say it must be done." + +"Yet other regiments would be so close to us in excellence that +it would be hard to name the one that is really best." + +"In that case we wouldn't have won the honor," Dick smilingly +insisted. + +"Then consider that fellow Cartwright," Greg added, lowering his +voice a bit. "He's a born shirker, and one weak company would make +a regiment that much poorer." + +"If Cartwright shirks, then mark my word that he'll be dropped," +Dick rejoined quickly. "But Greg, man, this is war-time, and +the biggest and most serious war in which we were ever engaged. +There must be no doubts---no ifs or buts. We must have a regiment +one hundred per cent. perfect. I'm going to do my share with +a company one hundred percent. good, even if I don't find time +for any sleep." + +Up the corridor there sounded a knock at a door. Something was +said in a low voice. Then the knock was repeated on Prescott's +door. + +"Come in!" called Dick. + +An orderly entered saluting. + +"Orders from the adjutant, sir," said the soldier, handing Prescott +a folded paper. He handed one like it to Greg, then saluted and +left the room, knocking at the next door. + +"Company drill from one to two-thirty," summarized Prescott, glancing +through the typewritten words on the unfolded sheet. "Practice +march by battalions from two-forty-five to three-forty-five. +Squad drill from four o'clock until retreat. That looks brisk, Greg." + +"Doesn't it?" asked Holmes, without too plain signs of enthusiasm. +"Company drill and the hike call for our presence, preferably, +and yet I've paper work enough to keep me busy until evening mess." + +"Paper work," so-called, is the bane of life for the company commander. +It consists of keeping, making and signing records, of the keeping +and inspection of accounts; it deals with requisitions for supplies +and an endless number of reports. + +"I have a barrelful of paper work, too," Dick admitted. "But +I'm going to see everything going well on the drill ground before I +go near company office." + +"All good things must end," grunted Greg, rising to his feet, "even +this rest. Mess will be on in eight minutes." + +The instant that the door had closed Dick drew off his olive drab +shirt, drew out a lidded box from under the bed and deposited +the shirt therein, next restoring the box to place bring out a +basin from under the bed and placing it on a chair, he found towel +and soap and busied himself with washing up. His toilet completed, +he took a clean shirt from a bundle on one of the neatly arranged +shelves and donned the garment. A few more touches, and, spick-and-span, +clean and very soldierly looking, he descended to the ground floor. +A glance into the mess-room showed him that the noon meal was not +yet ready, so be sauntered to the doorway, remaining just inside +out of the sun's rays. + +Other officers gathered quickly. A waiter from mess appeared at +the inner doorway, speaking a quiet word that caused the regiment's +officers, except the colonel and his staff, to file inside. + +Plain pine tables, without cloths, long pine benches nailed to +the floor---officers' mess was exactly like that of the enlisted +men, save that officers' mess was provided with heavy crockery, +while in the company mess-rooms the men ate from aluminum mess-kits. + +Most of the food was already in place on the table. The meal +began with a lively hum of conversation. Occasionally some merry +officer called out jokingly to some officer at another table; +there was no special effort at dignified silence. + +"The K.O. has our number!" exclaimed an irrepressible lieutenant. + +"How so?" demanded Noll Terry, Prescott's first lieutenant. + +"He knows us for a bunch of shirkers, and so he gave us the 'pep' +talk this morning." + +"Is the 'pep' going to work with you?" asked Noll laughingly. + +"Surely! I wouldn't dare be slow, even in drawing my breath, +after hearing the K.O. talk in that fashion." + +"Same here," Noll nodded. + +"I've been working sixteen hours a day ever since I hit camp," chimed +in another lieutenant. "What's the new system going to be? Eighteen +hours a day?" + +"Twenty, perhaps," said Greg's first lieutenant cheerfully. + +The meal had been under way for fifteen minutes when Captain Cartwright +entered leisurely. + +"I suppose you fellows have eaten all the best stuff," he called, +as he looked about and found a vacant seat, though he paused as +if in no great haste to occupy it. + +"Same old Cartwright," observed Greg, in an undertone to Dick. +"He's late, even at mess formation." + +But Cartwright heard, and wheeled about, looking half-angrily +at young Captain Holmes. + +"Say, Holmes, you're as free as ever with your tongue." + +"Yes," Greg answered unconcernedly. "Using it to taste my food, +and I've been finding the taste uncommonly pleasant." + +"You use your tongue in more ways than that," snapped Captain +Cartwright. "I happened to hear what you said about me in Prescott's +room a few minutes ago." + +"Eavesdropping?" queried Greg calmly. + +"What's that?" snapped Cartwright, and his flush deepened. "See +here, Holmes, I don't want any trouble with you." + +"That shows a lively sense of discretion," smiled Greg, turning +to face the other. + +"But I want you to stop picking on me. Talk about somebody else +for a change!" + +"With pleasure," nodded Greg, as he shrugged his shoulders and +turned to drop a spoonful of sugar in his second cup of coffee. +"There are lots of agreeable subjects for conversation in Camp +Berry." + +"Meaning---?" demanded Cartwright, still standing, and scowling, +for, out of the corners of his eyes, he saw that several of his +brother officers were smiling. + +"Meaning almost anything that you wish," continued Captain Holmes, +serenely, as he stirred his coffee. + +"Sit down, Cartwright," urged a low voice. "This is a gentleman's +outfit," declared another voice, perhaps not intended to reach +Cartwright's ears. But he heard the words and his mounting rage +caused him to take a step nearer to Greg, at the same time clenching +his fists. + +Greg, though he realized what was taking place, did not bother to +turn, but coolly raised his cup to his lips. + +"Sit down," called another voice. "You're rocking the boat." + +But Cartwright took a second step. It is impossible to say what +would have happened, but Dick Prescott, half turning in his seat, +caught the angry captain's nearer wrist in a grip of steel and +fairly swang Cartwright into a vacant seat at his left. Greg +was sitting at his right. + +"Don't be foolish, Cartwright, and don't let the day's heat go +to your head," Prescott advised. "Don't do anything you'd regret." + +Though Captain Cartwright's blood was boiling there was a sense +of quiet mastery in Prescott's manner and voice, combined with +a quality of leadership that restrained the angry man for the +next few seconds, during which Dick turned to a waiter to say: + +"This meat is cold. Bring some hot meat for Captain Cartwright, +and more vegetables. Try some of this salad, Cartwright---it's +good." + +Instantly the officers, looking eagerly on, turned their glances +away and began general conversation again, for they were quick +to see that Dick's usual tact was at least postponing a quarrel. + +"It will be a hot afternoon for drill, won't it?" Dick asked, +in the next breath, and in a low tone. + +"Maybe," grunted Cartwright. "But perhaps I shall find still +hotter work before the drill-call sounds." + +"Nonsense!" said Dick quickly. "After the K.O.'s talk this morning, +don't start anything that will take our mind off our work." + +"I've got to have a bit more than an explanation from Holmes," +the sulky captain continued, though in a low voice. + +"Cartwright," said Dick, in an authoritative undertone, "I don't +want you to start anything in that direction until you've had a +good talk with me!" + +There the matter ended for the moment. Dick joined in the general +conversation. Presently Cartwright tried to, but the officers +to whom he addressed his remarks replied either so briefly or +so coolly that the captain realized that he was not popular at +the present time. + +"Holmes will make trouble for any one who doesn't toady to him," +thought Captain Cartwright moodily. "I can see that I've got +to make it my business to take the conceit and arrogance out of him." + +At almost the same moment, over in a company barracks, Sergeant +Mock, as he chewed his food gloomily, was reflecting: + +"So Captain Holmes will call me down before a lot of officers, +will he? He'll order me to show more 'pep,' will he, the +slave-driver? And if I don't he'll break me, eh?" + +"Breaking" a non-commissioned officer is securing his reduction +to the grade of private. + +"The captain is so lazy himself that he doesn't know a good man +when he sees one," Mock told himself angrily. + +Then he added, threateningly to himself: + +"He'd better not try it. If he does, he'll sure wish he hadn't. +Since this war began even the officers are only on probation, and +I've brains enough to find a way to put him in bad with the +regimental K.O." + +"What's the matter, Mock, don't you like your food?" asked the +sergeant seated at his left. "You're scowling something fierce." + +"It isn't the chow," Sergeant Mock retorted gruffly. + +"Must be the heat, then---or a call-down," observed his brother +sergeant. + +"Never you mind!" retorted Mock. "And I'm not talking much now; +I want to think." + +"Must have been a real 'cussing-out' that you got," grinned the +other sergeant unconcernedly. + +Bending over a passing soldier murmured to Mock: + +"Top wants to see you in the company office when you're through +eating." + +The first sergeant of a company is also known, in Army parlance, +as the "top sergeant" or the "top cutter." + +Though he dawdled with his meal Mock did not eat much more. Finally +he rose, stalking sulkily from the mess-room and across the central +corridor. Thrusting out a hand he turned the knob of the door +of the company office and almost flung the door open, stepping +haughtily inside. + +"Mock," said First Sergeant Lund, looking up, "you're too old +in the service to enter in that fashion. You know, as well as +I do, that there is a 'knock' sign painted on the door, and that +only an officer is privileged to enter without knocking. Suppose +the captain had been in here when you flung in in that fashion?" + +"He's no better than any one else!" retorted Mock. + +Facing about in his chair Sergeant Lund briefly rested one hand +on his desk, then sprang to his feet. + +"Attention!" he commanded sharply. + +Mock obeyed, throwing his head up, his chest out and squaring his +shoulders as he dropped his hands straight along either trousers +seam, though he sneered: + +"Putting on officer's airs, are you, Lund?" + +"No; I appear to be talking to a rookie (recruit) who happens +to be wearing a sergeant chevrons," retorted the top sternly. +"Sergeant Mock, in this office, or anywhere in my presence, you +will refrain from making disrespectful remarks about your officers +And I'd advise you to adopt that as your standard at all times +and in all places. Do you get that?" + +"I hear you," Mock rejoined, standing at ease again. "You wanted +to see me?" + +"Yes. Shortly before recall sounded I looked out of the window +and noticed that you were handling the second platoon in anything +but a soldierly manner. I was about to come out and speak to +you when I observed the captain call you to him. He corrected +your method of handling the platoon, didn't he?" + +"He thought he did," Sergeant Mock responded, his lips quivering +"But the tone he took, or rather the words he said to me, aren't +the kind that make better soldiers of non-coms." + +"So?" demanded Sergeant Lund, looking sharply into his subordinate's +eyes. + +"No!" Mock snapped sullenly. "When an officer wants me to do +my best be's got to treat me like the gentleman that he's supposed +to be." + +For twenty seconds Sergeant Lund continued his staring at Mock. +Then he rested a hand heavily on the other's shoulder as he said: + +"Sergeant Mock, this is a man's army, training to do a nation's +share in the biggest war in history. None but a man can do a +man's work, and nothing but an army of real men can do the nation's +work. If you fit yourself into your place, work hard enough and +forget all about yourself except your oath to serve the Flag and +obey your officers, I believe that you can do a real man's work. +If you do anything different from that I'll knock your block off +without a second word on the subject." + +A hotly angry reply leaped to Sergeant Mock's lips, but he was +wise enough to choke it back. For Sergeant Lund, a real man, +a real soldier and a loyal American, stood before him regarding +him with a look in which there was no faltering nor any doubt as +to his intentions. + +"That's all, Sergeant Mock," said the top, an instant later. +"I'm going to keep an eye on you, and I want to be able to say +a word of praise to you this evening." + +"Two of a kind---the top and the company commander," Mock growled +under his breath as he went up the stairs to a squad room above. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GREG HAS TO BE STERN + + +A full minute before the bugler sounded the call Captain Dick +Prescott was on hand, standing in the shadow of the end of the +barracks of his company. Among other reasons he was there to +note the alacrity with which his men came out of the building. + +Before the notes of the call had died away most of the men of +his company were on hand, his lieutenants among the first. Within +saving time all the rest had appeared, except those who had been +excused for one reason or another. + +"A company fall in!" directed First Sergeant Kelly promptly. + +As the men fell in in double rank there were a few cases of confusion, +for some of the men were rookies who had joined only recently. + +"Sergeant Kelly, instruct the other sergeants to see to it that +each man knows his exact place in company formation," Dick ordered. + +"Yes, sir," replied Kelly. + +The corporals reported briskly the absentees, if any, in their +squads. The counting of fours sounded next after inspection of +arms. + +"A little more snap in answering when fours are counted," Dick +called, loudly enough for all the company to hear. "Let every +man call his own number instantly and clearly. For instance, +when one man has called 'two' let the man at his left call 'three' +without a second's delay. In the way of good soldiering this +is more important than most of you new men realize. Lieutenant +Terry!" + +"Sir," the first lieutenant responded, stepping forward, saluting. + +"Take the company. Drill in dressings, facings, the manual of +arms, wheeling and marching by twos and fours." + +Then, stepping to one side, Prescott let his gaze rove over the +company, from one file or rank to another. Everything that was +done badly he noted. Presently, when the men were standing at +ease he related his observations to Lieutenant Noll Terry, who +thereupon gave the company further instruction. + +Finally, when the company started across the drill ground in column +of fours, Dick walked briskly into the barracks building, going +to the company office, whither Sergeant Kelly had preceded him. +Kelly, and a corporal and private who were there on clerical duty, +rose and stood at attention as the captain entered. + +"Rest," Dick commanded briefly, whereupon the corporal and the +private returned to the desk at which they were working, while +Dick crossed to the sergeant's desk. Seating himself there he +gave close attention to the papers that Sergeant Kelly handed +him. Such as required signature Captain Prescott signed. Then, +for fifteen minutes, he busied himself with requisitions for clothing +and equipment. After that other papers required close attention. +Following that several matters of company administration had +to be taken up. Finally, Sergeant Kelly handed Dick a list on +which names had been written. + +"These seven men have applied for pass from retreat this afternoon +until reveille tomorrow morning," reported Dick's top. "I have +approved them, subject to your action." + +Reading quickly through the names, Prescott replied: + +"Give six of them pass, but refuse it to Private Hartley. This +forenoon I observed that he saluted officers very indifferently +when passing them, and once Hartley had to be spoken to by an +officer whom he did not see in time to salute him. In whose squad +is Hartley?" + +"In Corporal Aspen's, sir." + +"Then direct Corporal Aspen to take Hartley aside, at any time +suited to the corporal's convenience this evening. Have the corporal +drill Private Hartley at least twenty minutes in saluting, with, +of course, proper intervals for arm rest." + +"Yes, sir. May I offer the captain a suggestion?" + +"Yes." + +"Aspen will be corporal in charge of quarters to-night. Hartley +is sometimes a very slovenly soldier," Kelly reported. "May I +direct Corporal Aspen to keep Hartley up and give the instruction +in saluting after midnight? Corporal Aspen could take the man +into the mess-room where none of the men would be disturbed." + +"That sounds like a good idea," Dick nodded, smiling slightly. +"If he has to lose some of his sleep for instruction Hartley +may remember better. A soldier who offers his salutes in a slovenly +fashion is always a long way from being a really good soldier. +And, Sergeant, tell all the corporals that each will be held +responsible for drill and instruction of their squads in the art +of snappy saluting." + +Glancing at his wrist watch Prescott now noted that it was within +five minutes of time for the battalion practice march. Accordingly +he stepped outside. His lieutenants being already on the drill +ground he gave them brief directions as to the instruction to +be imparted on the hike and the deficiencies in the men's work +that were to be watched for. While he was still speaking the +bugler sounded assembly. + +Two or three minutes later the first battalion, under Major Wells, +marched off the drill ground in column of fours. + +As A company moved off at the head of the battalion some of the +non-coms called quietly: + +"Hip! hip! hip!" + +At each "hip" the men stepped forward on the left foot. A few +of the recruits still found difficulty in keeping step. + +"Let that third four close up!" ordered Lieutenant Terry briskly. +"Pay more heed to keeping the interval correctly." + +When the third four closed up those behind closed in accordance, +sergeants and corporals giving this matter close attention. + +As it was a practice march the men continued to move in step. +Company streets were left behind and the battalion moved on across +a field, where later a trench system was to be installed, out +past where the rifle ranges were already being constructed, and +then up the gradual ascent of a low hill from which a spread-out +view of the camp was to be had. On all the out-lying roads, at +this time, bodies of troops were to be seen marching in various +directions. At a distance these columns of men, clad in olive +drab, made one think of brown caterpillars moving slothfully along. +That was a distance effect, however, for the marching men did +not move slowly, but kept on at the regular cadence of a hundred +and twenty steps to the minute. + +In less than ten minutes after the start, with the rays of the +sun pouring down mercilessly on them, the soldiers began to perspire +freely. Another five minutes and it was necessary to brush the +perspiration out of their eyes. + +Assuredly the officers felt the heat as much. Yet from time to +time Captain Prescott fell out from his place at the head of the +company and allowed the line to march by, observing every good, +indifferent or bad feature of their marching, and correcting what +he could by low spoken commands. Whenever the last of the company +had passed Prescott ran along by the marching men until he had +gained the head. If the men suffered acute discomfort in marching +Prescott experienced more suffering in running under that hot +sun. But he was intent only on the idea of having the best company +in what he fondly hoped would turn out to be the best regiment +in the Army. + +For some minutes Greg had been aware that Sergeant Mock, of his +company, was hobbling along. Now, as he turned to glance backward, +he saw Mock step out of the ranks, go to the side of the road +and sit down. + +A glance at his wrist watch, and Greg saw that the first half-hour +was nearly up. In a minute or two more, he knew Major Bell would +give the order for a counter-march, and the first battalion would +swing and come back on its own trail. So Captain Holmes turned +and ran back to his non-commissioned officer. + +"What's the matter, Sergeant?" the young captain inquired pleasantly. + +Mock made as though trying to rise from the ground to stand at +attention, but his lips twisted as though he were in pain. + +"Rest," ordered Greg, "and tell me what ails you." + +"My feet are killing me, sir," groaned the sergeant. + +"That's odd," Captain Holmes commented. "You were all right at +assembly---lively enough then. Has half an hour of marching used +up a sound, healthy man?" + +Instantly the sergeant's look became surly. + +"All I know, sir, is that I could hardly stand on my feet. So +I had to drop out. If you'll permit it, sir, I shall have to +get back to camp the best way I can." + +"If you're that badly off I'll have an ambulance sent for you," +Greg went on. "But I don't understand your feet giving out so +suddenly. Take off one of your shoes and the sock." + +"That may not show much, but I'm suffering just the same, sir," +rejoined the non-com in a grumbling tone. + +"Let me see," Greg insisted. + +While the sergeant was busy removing a legging and unlacing a +shoe Captain Holmes glanced up the road to discover that the battalion +was counter-marching. + +"Be quick about it, Sergeant," Greg urged. + +Moving no faster than he had to, Mock took off his shoe, then slowly +turned the sock down, peeling it off. + +"Is that the worst foot?" Greg demanded, in astonishment. + +"I don't know, sir; they both hurt me." + +"Do you want to show me the other foot, or do you wish to get +back among the file closers?" + +"I---I can't walk, sir." + +Down on one knee went Greg, carefully inspecting the foot and +feeling it. The skin was clean, rosy, firm. + +"Why there isn't a sign of a blister," Captain Holmes declared. +"Nor is there an abrasion of any kind, or any callous. There +isn't even a corn. That's as healthy a doughboy foot as I've +seen. Dress your foot again, and put on your legging---_pronto_." + +A "doughboy" is an infantry soldier. "Pronto" is a word the Army +has borrowed from the Spanish, and means, "Be quick about it." + +"I'm not fit to march, sir," cried Sergeant Mock. + +"Either you'll be ready by the time B company is here, and you'll +march in, or I'll detail a man to remain here with you, and send +an ambulance for you. If I have to send an ambulance I'll have +you examined at the hospital, and if I find you've been faking +foot trouble then you shall feel the full weight of military law. +I'll give you your own choice. Which do you want?" + +Tugging his sock on, Mock merely mumbled. + +"Answer me!" Greg insisted sharply. + +"I---I'll do my best to march, sir." + +"Then be sure you're ready by the time B company gets here, and +be sure you march all the way in," Greg ordered sternly. He hated +a shamming imitation of a soldier. + +Major Bell and his staff came by at the head of the line, followed +by Prescott and A company. + +"Don't disappoint me, Sergeant," Greg warned his man. + +Though his brow was black with wrath Sergeant Mock stood up by +the time that the head of B company arrived. + +"Take your place, Sergeant," Greg ordered, and waited to see his +order obeyed, next running up to his own post. + +Ten minutes later, as a group of carpenters from the rifle range +paused at the roadside, Greg chanced to glance backward. He was +just in time to see Sergeant Mock limping out of the line of +file-closers to sit down at the roadside. + +His jaws set, Greg Holmes darted back. + +"That's enough of this, Mock," he called. "You can't sham in B +company. Your feet, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir," groaned the sergeant. + +"First two men of the rear four of B company fall out and come +here," Captain Holmes shouted. + +Instantly the two men detached themselves from the company and +came running back. + +"Fix your bayonets," Greg ordered. "Bring Sergeant Mock in at +the rear of the battalion. If he shirks, prod him with the points +of your bayonets. Don't be brutal, but make the sergeant keep +up at the rear of the battalion." + +"Sir-----" began Mock protestingly. + +"Quite enough for you, Sergeant Mock," Greg rapped out. "I'll +have your feet examined by a surgeon when you come in. Unless +the surgeon tells me that I'm wrong you may look for something +to happen!" + +As Greg turned and started to run back to the head of his company +he thought he heard a sound like a hiss. In his opinion it came +from some one in the group of carpenters, but he did not halt +to investigate. + +Though Mock limped all the way in, he came in exactly at the tail +of the battalion. As the last company halted on the drill ground +Sergeant Lund came back for him, relieving the guards. + +"Mock, until you've been examined," said the top, "you're not +to go beyond battalion bounds." + +"Am I in arrest?" demanded Mock, his face set in ugly lines. + +"You're confined within battalion bounds. Remember that," saying +which First Sergeant Lund turned and strode away. + +Nor was Mock a happy man. Holmes arranged that a regimental surgeon +should come over to B company barracks later and make a careful +examination of Sergeant Mock's feet. For some reason the surgeon +did not come promptly. The evening meal was eaten, and darkness +settled down over Camp Berry. Mock, still limping and looking +woeful, kept out in the open air. + +"Psst!" came sharply from somewhere, and Mock, turning, saw a +man in civilian garb standing in the shadow of a latrine shed. + +"Come here," called the stranger. Still surly, but urged by curiosity, +Mock obeyed the summons. + +"I don't want to be seen talking with you," murmured the stranger, +in a low voice, "but I want to offer you my sympathy. Say, but +a man gets treated roughly in the Army. That captain of yours---" + +As the stranger paused, looking keenly at Mock, the disgruntled +sergeant finished vengefully: + +"The captain? He's a dog!" + +"Dog is right," agreed the stranger promptly. "Will he do anything +more to you?" + +"I expect he'll bust me," said Sergeant Mock. + +To "bust" is the same as to "break." It means to reduce a non-com +to the ranks. + +"Are you going to stand it?" demanded the stranger. + +"Fat chance I'll have to beat the captain's game!" declared Mock +angrily. + +"But are you going to pay him back?" + +"How?" + +"Listen. I was in the Army once, and I don't like these officer +boys. Maybe I've something against your captain, too. Anyway, +keep mum and take good advice, and I'll help you to make him wish +he'd never been born." + +"Not a chance!" dissented Sergeant Mock promptly. "Captain Holmes +isn't afraid of anything, and besides he was born lucky. Besides +that, do anything to hurt him, and you've got Captain Prescott +against you, too, and ready to rip you up the back." + +"It's as easy to put 'em both in bad as it is to do it to either," +promised the stranger. "Now, listen. You-----" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BAD BLOOD COMES TO THE SURFACE + + +Later in the evening the surgeon came around. After examining +Sergeant Mock's feet for twenty minutes, and testing the skin as +well, he pronounced Mock a shammer. + +Mock was sent to the guard-house for twenty-four hours. The next +morning an order was published reducing the sergeant to the rank +of private. Yet, on the whole, the ex-sergeant looked pleased in +a sullen, disagreeable sort of way. He had listened to the stranger. + +Greg, however, had other troubles on his hands. After the noon +meal that day, as he was on his way to his quarters upstairs Captain +Cartwright passed him in the corridor. + +"I hear you're turning martinet," said Cartwright, with a disagreeable +smile. + +"Very likely," smiled Holmes, "but what are the specifications?" + +"I heard that you had a sergeant busted for having an opinion of +his own." + +"That's not so," Greg declared promptly. + +"Do you mean to tell me I'm a liar?" Cartwright asked flushing. + +"Did I understand you to charge me with preferring unjustifiable +charges against a sergeant in my company?" + +"I said I heard you had busted a sergeant for doing his own thinking," +the other captain insisted. + +"Cartwright, it's difficult for me to guess at what you're driving," +Holmes went on, patiently, "but I've already told you that I did +nothing of the kind that you allege." + +"That's calling me a liar again!" flamed Cartwright. + +"I'm sorry if it is," returned Greg coolly, and turned toward +his door. + +"You cannot call me a liar!" cried Captain Cartwright, taking +a quick step forward, his fists clenched. + +"Apparently I don't have to," scoffed Holmes. "You're eager to +claim the title for yourself." + +Up flew the other captain's fist. But just then a door opened +behind him, and Dick Prescott caught the uplifted fist in tight, +vise-like hold. + +"Don't do that, Cartwright," he advised. + +"Let me alone," insisted the other striving though failing to +release his captured wrist. + +"Don't do anything rash, Cartwright. Listen to good sense; then +I am going to let go of your wrist. If you were to strike Holmes +he would be practically bound to thrash you, or else to prefer +charges. In either case the matter would get before a court-martial. +My testimony, from what I overheard, would have to sustain Holmes." + +"You two would swear for each other anywhere and at all times," +sneered Captain Cartwright. + +This was hinting that Dick Prescott would be willing to perjure +himself, and Dick flushed, though with difficulty he kept his +patience. + +"I'm going to let go of you now, Cartwright," Prescott continued. + +As Dick let go of the captured wrist Captain Cartwright wheeled +and aimed a vicious blow at his brother officer's face. + +But Prescott's arm thrust up his adversary's. + +"Stop it, Cartwright!" + +Apparently the other could not control his anger. He aimed another +savage blow. Dick parried with a thrust, but this time his other +fist landed on Cartwright's chest with force enough to send him +staggering to a fall on the floor. + +At this moment a step was heard on the stairway. + +"Gentlemen! Stop this! What does it mean?" + +The voice was full of authority and outraged dignity. Colonel +Cleaves, his eyes flashing, stood before them. + +"Get up, Captain Cartwright," he commanded. "I must have an instant +explanation of this scene. Officers and gentlemen cannot conduct +themselves like rowdies." + +Captain Cartwright forced himself to smile as he saluted; he even +tried to look forgiving. + +"A little frolic, sir," he made haste to say, "that developed +into bad blood for the moment." I do not wish to prefer any charges." + +"Do you, Captain Prescott?" demanded the colonel. + +"No, sir." + +"You, Captain Holmes?" + +"No, sir." + +If any of the trio had hoped this much explanation would prove +satisfactory to the E.O. of the Ninety-ninth, that one had reckoned +without his host. + +"A misunderstanding that develops to the point of a knock-down +blow is never a trifling matter," declared Colonel Cleaves. "If +you gentlemen had assured me that it was all frolic then I would +have thought no more of it. But I have been assured that there +was a misunderstand---a quarrel that proceeded to blows. And +I myself saw one man down and signs of very evident anger on all +your faces. Gentlemen, do you wish to offer me any further explanation +at this moment?" + +"I have said all that I really can say, sir," protested Cartwright, +"except that I do not harbor any unkind feelings for what has +taken place." + +Steps were heard on the stairs, and other officers of the Ninety-ninth +came upon the scene. + +"As no charges have been preferred," said Colonel Cleaves, "I +will not order any of you relieved from duty. I will notify all +three of you, however, at a later hour, and will then hear you +all in my office. I trust a most satisfactory explanation all +around will be forthcoming." + +Colonel Cleaves then turned to the group of officers that had +just arrived, saying: + +"Lieutenant Terry, you were kind enough to offer to loan me a +book on rifle range construction. I am aware that you have not +yet had a chance to send it over to me, but as I was passing, +I decided to drop in and ask it from you." + +"In an instant, sir," replied Noll Terry. Saluting, he darted +down the corridor, opened his door and came back with the volume. + +"I am indebted to you, Mr. Terry," said Colonel Cleaves, returning +the first lieutenant's second salute and turning to go. + +Until they had heard the colonel go out upon the steps below the +entire group of younger officers stood as though spell-bound. +But at last one of them broke out with: + +"I hope nothing really nasty is afoot. Three of you look as though +the moon were clouded with mischief for some one." + +"You'll pardon us, won't you?" smiled Dick pleasantly, as he turned +to go back into his quarters. "You will realize, as we do, that +the first discussion of the matter should take place before the +commanding officer." + +Greg followed his chum in. + +"Oh it's nothing," they heard Captain Cartwright assure the others. +"It ought to blow over, and I hope it will. A certain officer +took what I thought too much liberty with me, and when I resented +it his friend took a hand in the matter. I hope we can set it +all straight before Colonel Cleaves." + +Behind the closed door, hearing what was said, Prescott turned +on his friend with eyebrows significantly raised. Greg nodded. +No word was spoken. + +Apparently Captain Cartwright also went to his quarters, for the +steps of many sounded outside, and then all was still. + +Prescott had picked up a book and was reading. Greg walked over +to the window and stood looking out into the sun-baked company +street. + +"I must go over to company office for an hour or so," announced +Captain Dick, glancing at his wrist watch and laying down his +book at last. "After that I'll go out and see how the platoon +commanders are getting along with their new work. I hear that +we're to have some drafts of new men to-morrow." + +"Yes," Greg nodded. "Recruits from Chicago, and also from Boston. +Some day we may hope to have our companies filled up to full +strength." + +"Small chance to get over to France until our companies are filled," +Prescott smiled, as he stood up, looked himself over and started +for the door. + +Captain Greg Holmes followed at his heels. No word was spoken +of the recent trouble with Cartwright, not even when they crossed +the road below and started for their respective company offices. + +Paper work engrossed Prescott's attention for an hour or so. +During this time he occasionally glanced up to note what was taking +place beyond the window in front of his desk. His four second +lieutenants were in command of the platoons to-day, instead of +sergeants. The young officers were instructing their men in the +first essentials of bayonet combat. + +The last piece of paper disposed of, Prescott at last arose, stretched +slightly, then strode out of the office to the drill ground. + +He was just in time to hear one of his lieutenants explaining to +a line of men: + +"When pursuing a retreating enemy one of the most effective thrusts +with the bayonet can be delivered right here. Learn to mark the +spot well." + +Half-turning, the lieutenant pointed to the spot in the small +of his own back, before he went on, impressively: + +"A bayonet thrust there will drive the blade through a kidney. +I will admit that that doesn't sound like sportsman-like fighting, +but unfortunately we're not to be employed against a really civilized +enemy in this war. Page, you will stand out. It isn't a popular +role to which I am going to assign you, but you will run slowly +past me and represent a fleeing enemy. Dobson, you will take +a blob-stick and chase Page, running just fast enough to overtake +him in front of me. Then you will give him the kidney thrust, +taking care to make your aim exact. Thrust with spirit, but do +not hit hard, even with the blob-stick, for Page is not a real +German." + +Though the men were perspiring uncomfortably, their officer's +pleasant conversational way and his interesting talk kept the +interest of these young soldiers. Private Page stepped out and +took post where the lieutenant indicated, prepared to begin running +away at the word of command. Private Dobson picked up a blob-stick, +a long, wand-like affair intended to represent a rifle and bayonet, +the bayonet's point being represented by a padded ball such as +is seen on a bass drummer's stick. + +"Go ahead, Page," commanded the lieutenant. "Kill him, Dobson! +. . . Good work! Any enemy, struck like that in earnest, could +safely be left to himself. Dobson, you be the fleeing enemy this +time. Aldrich, take the blob-stick." + +One after another the men of the skeletonized platoon took their +try with the blob-stick. As is usual in the run of human affairs, +some of the men made the thrust excellently, others indifferently, +and some missed altogether. + +"Rest," ordered the lieutenant, presently, and the men stood at +ease in the platoon line. + +"Some of you men do not get hold of this bayonet work as well +as I could wish," Dick spoke up, all eyes turned on him. "The +man who learns his bayonet work thoroughly has a reasonably good +chance of coming back from Europe alive. The man who learns it +indifferently has very little chance of seeing his native land +at the close of the war. Remember that. Bayonet fighting is +one of the things no American soldier can afford to be dull about. +Lieutenant Morris, if you will pick up a blob-stick we can show +these men some of the value of swift work in the simpler thrusts +and parries." + +Each armed with a blob-stick, captain and second lieutenant faced +each other. Dick, scowling as though facing an enemy whom he +hated, advanced upon his subordinate, making a swift, savage lunge +aimed at the other's abdomen. In a twinkling the thrust had been +parried by Lieutenant Morris, who, at close quarters, aimed a +vicious jab at his captain's wind-pipe. That, too, was blocked. +Warming up, the two officers fought without victory for a full +three-quarters of a minute. Then, at a word from Prescott, each +drew back. + +"Every one of you men, by the time you reach France, should be +able to fight faster and better than that," Dick announced. + +Down the line an infectious smile ran. It seemed to these soldiers +impossible that a more skillful or a swifter bit of combat work +could be put up than they had just witnessed. + +"You two men, at the right, bring your rifles here," Prescott +ordered, and the bayoneted rifles were brought and handed to the +two officers. + +"Now, Lieutenant Morris, the first four series, as fast as we +can go through them," Dick commanded. + +Bang! bump! flash! Rifle barrels rang as they crossed; butts +bumped hard against barrel or stock, and glittering steel flashed +in the sunlight as the two infantry officers advanced and retreated +in a savage, realistic contest. It really seemed as though Lieutenant +Morris and Captain Prescott were bent on annihilating each other. +Could this fierce, mutual onslaught be pretense---play? Then, +as the last move of the fourth series was executed the two infantry +officers jumped back a step each and dipped the points of their +gleaming blades by way of courtesy. The other three platoons +of the company had stopped drill to watch. How the thrilled men +of A company wished to applaud and cheer! + +"Lieutenant Morris and I are very poor hands at bayonet work, +compared with what we want you men to be when this regiment sails +for France," Prescott remarked, smilingly, as he handed back the +rifle to its owner. + +From that platoon Prescott passed on to others in his company, +offering a remark here and a word of instruction there. + +"You men must do everything to get your muscles up to concert +pitch," Captain Prescott announced. "No lady-like thrusts will +ever push a bayonet into a German's face. A ton of weight is +needed behind every bayonet thrust or jab!" + +An orderly approached, saluting. + +"Compliments of the commanding officer, sir, and he will see the +captain in his office at regimental headquarters, sir." + +Returning the salute Dick walked off the drill ground as though +he had nothing on his mind. Down the street he espied Greg, also +going toward headquarters, and hurried after him. On the other +side of the street was Captain Cartwright, who soon crossed over +to join them. + +In silence, the three captains made their way along the street +until they reached regimental headquarters. It was a low one-story +pine shed, with the colonel's office at one end, the adjutant's +office next to it, and beyond that the rooms occupied by the sergeant +major and his clerical force, and, last of all, the chaplain's +office. + +None of the three captains was exactly at ease as they entered the +adjutant's office and reported. + +"The commanding officer will see you at once," said the adjutant. +"Pass through into his office." + +Colonel Cleaves, glancing up from his desk, gravely returned the +salutes of his three captains. + +"Be good enough to close the door into the adjutant's office, +Captain Holmes," directed the K.O. "Now, gentlemen, I will hear +whatever explanation you have to offer of a very remarkable scene +that I came upon this noon." + +All three waited, to see if one of the others wished to speak +first. After waiting a moment or two Colonel Cleaves asked: + +"Captain Prescott, it was you who struck the knock-down blow, +was it not?" + +"Yes, sir," Dick answered promptly, "though it followed a parry, +and was more of a thrust than a blow." + +"You agree to that, Captain Cartwright?" quizzed the K.O. + +"Essentially so, sir." + +"There had been a quarrel, had there not?" + +"I made a reply to a remark by Captain Cartwright, sir," Greg +supplied, "which, he felt justified in construing as offensive, +though I did not so intend it. I was annoyed at what I felt to +be an insinuation. Then Captain Prescott came out of his quarters, +sir, and caught Captain Cartwright's wrist. When Captain Prescott +released it, Captain Cartwright struck at him. The blow was parried, +and Captain Cartwright struck once more. That blow was also parried, +and Captain Cartwright went to the floor." + +"Do you concur in that, Captain Cartwright?" asked the K.O. + +"Yes, sir." + +"By the way, Captain Prescott," went on Colonel Cleaves, handing +him a small piece of paper, "can you account for this?" + +As Dick Prescott took the paper and glanced at it he felt himself +turning almost dizzy in bewilderment. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AS IT IS DONE IN THE ARMY + + +"That is your handwriting, is it not, Captain Prescott?" demanded +the regimental commander. + +"It looks just like my handwriting, sir, but I'll swear that I +never wrote it," declared astonished Dick, still staring at the +little piece of paper. + +"Yet it resembles your handwriting?" + +"Yes, sir. If I didn't know positively that I didn't write any +such message then I'd be about ready to admit that it is my handwriting. +But I didn't write it, sir." + +"Pass it to Captain Holmes. I will ask him if he has seen this +note before." + +"No, sir," declared Greg, very positively, though he, too, was +startled, for it was hard to persuade himself that he was not +looking down at his chum's familiar handwriting. + +The note read: + +_"Dear H. Stick to what we agreed upon, and we can cook C's goose +without trouble. P."_ + +"May I speak, sir?" asked Dick. + +"Yes, Captain." + +"Then I desire to say, sir, that I have not the least desire to +see Captain Cartwright in any trouble. Hence, it would have been +impossible for me to think of writing such a note. More, sir, +it would have been stupid of me to risk writing such a note, for +Captain Holmes and I sat in my quarters until it was time for +us to leave on our way to our respective company offices." + +"And while in your quarters did you discuss this affair of your +trouble with Captain Cartwright?" + +"To the best of my recollection, sir, we did not mention it," Dick +declared. + +"Is that your recollection, Captain Holmes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And this is not your handwriting, Captain Prescott?" + +"I give you my word of honor, sir, that I did not write it, and +did not even discuss the matter with Captain Holmes." + +"I do not understand this note in the least," Colonel Cleaves +went on. "Of course, Captain Prescott, I am bound to accept your +assurance that you did not write this. I do not know how the +note came here; all I know about it is that I found it on my desk, +under a paper weight, about fifteen minutes ago, when I came in." + +"It is the work of some trouble-maker, sir," Greg ventured. + +"Do you know anything about this note, Captain Cartwright?" + +"No, sir," replied that officer, flushing at the intimation that +he could have had anything to do with it, for Greg had passed +the paper to him. + +"I will keep that note, then," said Colonel Cleaves, taking it, +"in the hope that I may later find out how it came to be here. +Captain Cartwright, do you deny that Captain Prescott did no +more than to parry your blows and thrust you back off your balance?" + +"That was all he did, sir." + +"And you made two distinct efforts to hit him?" + +"Y-y-yes, sir." + +"Was anything said that, in your opinion, justified you in attempting +to strike a brother officer?" + +"At the time I thought Captain Holmes had justified my attempt to \ +strike him." + +"Do you still think so?" + +"N-no, sir. I was undoubtedly too impetuous." + +"And you attempted to strike Captain Prescott only because he +tried to restrain you from striking a brother officer?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is there anything more to be said or explained by any of you +gentlemen?" + +"Nothing, sir," came from three pairs of lips. + +"Then, since none of you wishes to prefer charges," pursued Colonel +Cleaves, "I will say that the whole affair, as far as it has been +explained to me, looks like a childish quarrel to have taken place +between officers and gentlemen. On the statements made to me, +I will say that I believe that Captain Cartwright was most to +blame. I therefore take this opportunity to rebuke him. Captain +Prescott, of course, you understand that I accept your assurance +that you did not write the note I showed you. Keep the peace +after this, gentlemen, and make an honest effort to promote +brotherliness of spirit with all the officers of the service, and +especially of this regiment. That is all." + +Saluting, the three captains stepped out into the sunlight. The +sentry pacing on headquarters post swung his rifle from shoulder +arms down to port arms, then came to present arms before the officers, +who acknowledged his formal courtesy by bringing their hands up +smartly to the brims of their campaign hats. + +"Well, that's over!" announced Cartwright, in a tone of relief. + +"And will never be repeated," said Greg. + +"But you will admit, Holmes, that you've picked a good deal on me, +from time to time," Cartwright pressed, in a half-aggrieved tone. + +"I will admit, for you both," smiled Dick, "that you're in danger +of starting something all over again unless you shut up and make +a fresh, better start. So we won't refer to personal matters +again, but we come to your company's barracks first, Cartwright, +and when we get there we will shake hands and agree to remember +that we're all engaged in a fierce effort to make the Ninety-ninth +the best American regiment." + +In silence the three pursued their way to C company's building. +Here they halted. + +"To the Ninety-ninth, best of 'em all," proposed Prescott, holding +out his hand to Cartwright, who took and pressed it. + +"To the best officers' crowd in the service," quoth Greg. + +"Amen to that!" assented Cartwright, though he strode away with +a dull red flush burning on either cheek. + +Half an hour later Dick's business took him past the regiment's +guard-house. As carpenters were everywhere busy in camp putting +up more necessary buildings the place officially known as the +guard-house was more of a bullpen. Posts had been driven deeply +in the form of a rectangle, and on these barbed wire had been +laid to a height of nine feet. Within the rectangle guard-house +prisoners could take the air, retiring to either of two tents +inside the enclosure whenever they wished. + +As he passed Dick noted, vaguely, that four or five men stood by +the nearer line of barbed wire fence. He held up his left hand +to glance at his wrist watch. Just as he turned the hand, to let +it fall at his side, something dropped out of the air, falling +squarely in his hand. Instinctively Prescott's fingers closed +over the missile. He glanced, quickly, at the enclosure, but not +one of the men on the other side of the wire was looking +his way. + +Then the young captain, keeping briskly on his way, opened his +hand to glance down at his unexpected catch. It was a piece of +manila paper, wrapped around a stone. + +Waiting only until he was some distance from the bull-pen, Dick +unwrapped the paper. + +In printed characters, used undoubtedly to disguise handwriting, +was this message: + +"Watch for all you're worth the carpenter who talks with Mock!" + +"Now, why on earth should I interest myself in the affairs of +Greg's busted sergeant?" Dick wondered. "And what possible interest +can I have in any carpenter unless he's a friend of mine, or has +business with me?" + +On the whole Prescott felt that he was lowering his own dignity +to attach any importance to an anonymous message, plainly from +a guardhouse prisoner. Yet he dropped the small stone and thrust +the scrap of paper into a pocket for future consideration should +he deem it worth while. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE CAMP CARPENTER'S TALE + + +After a week of exacting office work and all but endless drill, Dick +had the rare good fortune to find himself with an evening of leisure. + +"Going to be busy to-night?" Dick asked Greg at the evening meal +at mess. + +"Confound it, yes," returned Captain Holmes. "I must put in the +time until midnight with Sergeant Lund going over clothing +requisitions for my new draft of men." + +"My requisitions are all in, and I expect the clothing supplies +to-morrow morning," Dick continued. + +"That is because you got your draft of new men two days earlier than +I did," grumbled Greg. "You're always the lucky one. But what are +you going to do to-night that you want company?" + +"I thought I'd like to take a walk in the moonlight," Dick responded. + +"Great Scott! Do you mean to tell me you don't get enough walk +in the daytime in the broiling sunlight?" + +"Not the same kind of walking," Prescott smiled. "I want to stroll +to-night and talk. But if I must go alone, then I shall have +to think." + +"Don't attempt hard work after hours," advised Holmes. + +"Such as walking?" + +"No; thinking." + +Dick finished his meal and stepped outside in the air. The first +to join him was Lieutenant Morris. + +"Feel like taking a walk in the moonlight?" Dick asked. + +"I'd be delighted, Captain, but to-night I'm officer in charge +at the company barracks." + +"True; I had forgotten." + +Other officers Dick invited to join him, but all had duty of one +kind or another, or else home letters to write. + +"Did I hear you say you were going to take a walk, Prescott?" +asked Major Wells. + +"Yes, sir. By any great good luck are you willing to go with me?" + +"I'd like to, Prescott, but as it happens there is the school +for battalion commanders to-night. A talk on trench orders by +the brigadier is listed, I believe." + +"I'm afraid I shall have to go alone," sighed Dick "Yet I've half +a mind to stroll over to company office and invent some new paper +work. With every one else busy I feel like the only slacker in +the regiment." + +"If you really go alone," suggested the major, "perhaps you could +combine pleasure with doing me a favor." + +"How, sir?" + +"My horse hasn't had any exercise for three days. I'd be glad +if you'd take him out tonight, if it suits you." + +"Nothing could please me better, sir," Dick cried eagerly, for he +dearly loved a horse. + +"How soon will you be ready?" + +"At once, Major." + +"Then I'll send around now for the horse." Just a few minutes +later an orderly rode up, dismounted, saluted and turned the saddled +animal over to A company's commander. + +"This is luck, indeed!" Dick told himself, as he felt the horse's +flanks between his knees and moved off at a slow canter. "I wonder +why I never tried to transfer into the cavalry." + +While waiting for the horse he had telephoned the adjutant, stating +that for the next three hours he would be either in camp or in +the near vicinity. + +After being halted by three outlying sentries Prescott rode clear +of the camp bounds, riding at a trot down a moonlit country road. +Vinton was the nearest town, where soldiers on a few hours' pass +went for their recreation out of camp. The road to Vinton was +usually well sprinkled with jitney busses conveying soldiers to +or from camp, so Prescott had chosen another road which, at night, +was likely to be almost free of traffic of any kind. + +"As this is the first evening I've had off in three weeks I don't +believe I need feel that I'm loafing," Dick reflected. "It's +gorgeous outdoors to-night. There will undoubtedly be plenty +of moonlight in France, but there won't be many opportunities +like this one." + +Finding that his horse was sweating, Dick slowed the animal down +to a walk. He had ridden along another mile when, near a farmhouse +he espied a soldier in the road, strolling with a young woman. + +As the horse gained upon the young couple the soldier glanced +backward, then swung the girl to the side of the road and halted +beside her, drawing himself up to attention and saluting smartly. +The man was Private Lawrence of his own company. + +"Good evening," Dick nodded, pleasantly. + +"Good evening, sir," replied the private. + +Dick didn't ask, as some officers would have done, whether the +soldier had pass to be out of camp. He could ascertain that on +his return to camp. Instead, he said: + +"You must have this road pretty nearly to yourself, Lawrence, +as far as soldiers go." + +"There's at least one other, sir," the soldier replied, in a matter +of fact way. "I saw one slip by in the field, close to the road. +I won't be sure, but I think it was Private Mock, sir." + +"He has friends down this way?" Dick asked casually. + +"Not that I ever heard of, sir. There aren't many houses on this +road. My friend, Miss Williams, lives in the house up yonder." + +At the implied introduction Prescott raised his campaign hat, +then rode on. + +The instant that Mock's name had been mentioned it had flashed +through Dick's mind that, when in Greg's office that afternoon, +he had seen Mock's name on Top Sergeant Lund's list of men for +pass, and Greg, he knew, had drawn a pen line through that name. + +"Of course it may not have been Mock that Lawrence saw; Lawrence +himself wasn't sure," Dick reflected. "Yet, if Mock is out of +camp to-night he is out without leave. Private Lawrence didn't +realize that, or he wouldn't tell tales." + +Soon the horse began to move along an up grade road between +two lines of trees. Finding that the animal, instead of drying +off, was sweating more freely, Dick drew rein and dismounted. + +"It's hard work on a hot night, so you and I will walk together +for a while, old pal," Dick confided to the borrowed mount. "There, +you find it easier, don't you?" + +As if to express gratitude the horse bent its head forward, rubbing +against Dick's shoulder. + +"Who says horses can't talk plainly, hey, old fellow?" Dick demanded. +On together they walked, until Prescott felt himself perspiring, +while the horse's coat grew dry. + +"There, now, friend," said Dick, running a hand over the creature's +flanks, "you're cool and dry, and this is one of the prettiest +spots in Georgia, so I reckon I'll tie you and rest until I, too, +am dry again." + +Having tied the horse by the bridle reins, Dick strolled about, +enjoying the dark and quiet after the bright electric lights and +the bustle of camp. Presently he strolled down the road until +he came to a break in the trees on his right. Though the moon +had gone partly behind a cloud Dick found himself gazing down +a clearing. He would not have been interested, had it not been +that he caught sight of the unmistakable silhouette of a soldier, +and, beside him, a somewhat stoop-shouldered man in darker garb. + +"Why, I wonder if that can be Mock, and his carpenter?" reflected +Prescott, recalling the note that had dropped so mysteriously +into his extended palm. + +Screened behind a bush Dick watched the pair until he saw them +coming toward the road. Then Prescott drew back, finding better +shelter, but he did not seek complete concealment. It occurred +to him to wait there, in silence, and see if Private Mock displayed +any uneasiness on coming face to face with his captain's chum. + +"That will be a good way, perhaps, to test out the note," Prescott +decided. + +Though the two men appeared to be talking earnestly, only a mumble +of voices reached Dick's ears when the men were no more than thirty +feet away. Then they stepped into the road, where they halted +hardly more than a dozen feet away from the screened captain. + +"It's a pity you wouldn't have your nerve," said the stranger, +to Mock. "You tell me you hate your captain." + +"Wouldn't you, if he had treated you like he treated me?" demanded +Mock heatedly. + +"Surely I would," agreed the stranger. + +"And there's Holmes's friend, that fellow Prescott, who, he, you +say, would spend all his time looking into anything that happened +to Holmes. You could settle with them both, and then there'd +be no one left to worry about." + +"Say, just what are you thinking of doing to 'em?" demanded Mock, +in a tone of uneasy suspicion. + +"There are two things that could be done to them," continued the +civilian. "One would be to put them out of the way altogether, and +the other would be to bring disgrace upon them so that they'd be +kicked out of the Army. That would break their hearts, wouldn't it?" + +"Yes," muttered Mock, "but you're talking dreams, neighbor. I'm +no black-hander, to creep up behind them with a knife, or take +a pot shot at them. I'm not quite that kind, neighbor, and it +couldn't be done, anyway." + +"You could put 'em out of the way, and no one would be the wiser," +hinted the stranger. + +"How?" + +"I'll show you, when I'm sure enough that you're game," declared +the civilian. "I'd have to be sure you had the nerve." + +"I haven't," admitted Private Mock. + +"Do you know, I began to think that before you admitted it?" sneered +the other. + +"Not the way you mean," flared up the ex-sergeant. "I can be +mean in order to get square with a mean officer. But I can get +along without putting him under the sod. I'm a good hater, but +my mother didn't raise me to be a real crook." + +"You're a quitter, I guess," jeered the other. "Anyway, if you +claim to be a man of sand you'll have to show me." + +"And I guess it's about time that you showed me something, too," +challenged Mock, looking furtively at the stoop-shouldered man. + +"I'm ready enough to show you a whole lot of things, when I find +out that you're man enough to stand up for yourself and pay back +those who treat you like dirt," retorted the other. + +"There's one thing you can show me, first of all," challenged Mock. + +"Yes? What?" + +"Show me why you're so anxious to have harm happen to Captain +Holmes and Captain Prescott." + +"Because I like you; because I'm a friend of yours," returned +the stoop-shouldered one. + +"You're a pretty new friend," Mock went on. "I never saw you +until that day when the captain caught me shirking and told off +two men to prod me back into camp." + +"That was the time for you to know me," declared the other brazenly. +"That was the time when you needed a friend to show you how to get +square like a man instead of like a coward and a quitter." + +"Be careful with your names!" commanded Mock harshly. "Say, Mr. +Man, who are you, and what are you?" + +"Private Mock, I believe I can answer that question for you!" broke +in Captain Dick Prescott, stepping out from behind his leafy screen. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ENEMY IN CAMP BERRY + + +"Captain Prescott!" uttered Mock, starting back in dismay. + +"Donner und blitzen!" (thunder and lightning) ejaculated the +stoop-shouldered one. + +"The fellow has just answered your question for you," Dick went +on, pointing an accusing finger at the stranger. "You know what +language he was betrayed into using just now." + +"German, sir," said Mock. + +"That's right," nodded Prescott. + +"Is he one of them Kaiser-hound spies, sir?" demanded Mock, stung +to wrath and throwing grammar to the winds. "Why, I've dreamed +of catching one and tearing him to pieces. With your permission, +sir-----!" + +Not stopping to finish Mock threw himself upon the stoop-shouldered +one, But that worthy had foreseen it, and adroitly stopped the +ex-sergeant with a blow on the end of the nose that dazed him for +an instant. + +"I'll take care of him, Mock!" cried Captain Dick, leaping forward. +As he did so the stranger turned and fled. No longer stoop-shouldered, +but bearing himself like an athlete, the unknown turned and darted +away, Prescott racing after him. + +"Get back!" warned the fugitive, drawing an automatic revolver and +flourishing it over his head. + +Though unarmed, save for his fists, Prescott continued to pursue +with all speed. After both of them raced Private Mock. + +Dick was gaining when he stepped on a round stone, slipped and +fell. Mock dashed after him. The fleeing German halted long +enough to hurl the automatic pistol at Mock's face, then turned +and ran on. Naturally the soldier dodged the missile, which struck +the ground behind him. Thinking the weapon might be useful, Mock +halted, then ran back and secured the pistol, after which he started +to give chase. But the fugitive had vanished in the darkness. + +"Come back here and surrender, before I shoot," bluffed Mock, but +the German did not answer. + +To Mock's intense astonishment Dick reached over, snatching the +pistol from his hand. + +"That will be about all, Private Mock," said Prescott sternly. +"You've bluffed your part well, and helped your friend to escape, +but at all events I've got you!" + +"Do you---" began the soldier, but stopped, further words failing +him. Dick gripped the man's arm, giving a significant pressure +before he said: + +"You'll come along with me, Mock, and it will be worse for you +if you try any further monkey-shines with me." + +He gave another pressure on Mock's arm as he finished. Without +a word Mock walked with him to where the horse was tied. + +"Untie that bridle and buckle the ends together," Dick ordered. + +This done, the captain mounted, taking the bridle in his left +hand, retaining the automatic pistol in his right. + +"March ahead, Mock. Don't try to bolt unless you want me to shoot." + +In this manner they proceeded back over the road. Mile after +mile they covered, meeting no one until they had come in sight +of the camp, nestling in the broad valley below. + +At this point such an extensive view could be had that Dick felt +sure there was no eavesdropper. So he dismounted, calling the +soldier to him and asking in a whisper: + +"Mock, you were simply a poor, shirking soldier, weren't you? +You are, at heart, loyal to your country's Flag, aren't you?" + +"I'd die for the Stars and Stripes, sir!" Mock declared, in a voice +choked with emotion. + +"But I felt tired, the other day, and I got a notion Captain Holmes +was down on me. So I went bad and got busted. Then I hated Captain +Holmes, sir, and ached for a chance to get square with him. Then +that accursed carpenter fellow hunted me out, talked with me, +and made me think he was my friend. If I had known he was a +Kaiser-hound I'd have split his head open at the first crack out +of the box." + +"I didn't doubt you as a loyal man, Mock," Dick continued, in +a whisper. "I spoke to you the way I did back on the road because +I was sure the fellow was near and listening. I didn't care much +about catching him to-night because I hope to catch him later on, +and get him even more red-handed. Mock, you're loyal, and I'm +going to put your loyalty, if you consent, to a hard, bitter test." + +Dick went on in an even lower tone, Mock listening in growing +astonishment, without replying a word, though he nodded +understandingly. + +"So, now," Prescott wound up, "I'm going to continue into camp with +you still a prisoner and be mighty hard on you. However, I won't +hold the pistol on you any longer." + +Into camp Dick marched the soldier, then over toward the buildings +of the Ninety-ninth, and thence along to the bull-pen. + +"Sergeant of the guard!" Prescott called briskly, and that +non-commissioned officer appeared. + +"Take charge of Private Mock as a prisoner, charged with being +absent from camp without leave or pass," Dick ordered. "I will +report my action to Captain Holmes, who will dispose of his case." + +From there Dick led the horse back to B company barracks, turned +the animal over to an orderly and went into the company office, +where, as he had expected, he found Greg immersed in a grind of +paper work. For a few minutes Dick talked earnestly with his chum +in low tones, Captain Holmes frequently nodding. + +"And now, I think I had better go down to the adjutant's office, +to see if he's still at his desk," Dick finished, "and, if so, make +my report." + +"You'll stagger him," Greg predicted. + +One of Greg's orderlies had already ridden the major's horse to +the stable, so Prescott walked briskly along the street until +he came to regimental headquarters. As he entered the adjutant's +office he found Colonel Cleaves seated on the corner of his +subordinate's desk, in low-toned conversation with his subordinate. + +"Am I intruding, sir?" Dick inquired, saluting the colonel. + +"No," said Colonel Cleaves. "In fact, Captain, you may as well +know the subject-matter of our conversation. Captain Prescott, +this camp would appear to be infested with German spies! This +evening sixteen men in F company were taken ill after supper. +They are now in hospital and some of them are expected to die. +The surgeons have examined some of the food left over from that +supper and report finding ground glass in some pieces of the apple +pie served as dessert. Later the captain of our machine-gun company, +which has only one machine gun so far, had the piece taken into +the company mess-room to demonstrate the mechanism to his lieutenants +so that they might instruct the men. He found the mechanism of +the piece so badly jammed that the machine gun refused to work. +I have inspected that piece, and in my opinion the gun is ruined. +As if that were not enough sixteen rifles belonging to G company +have been found with their bolts broken off. It is very plain +that German spies and sympathizers are at work in Camp Berry, +and the scoundrels must be found, Captain." + +Colonel Cleaves spoke under the stress of great excitement, his +eyes flashing, the corners of his mouth twitching. + +Dick went to the door, then to the doors opening into the rooms +on either side. Then he came back, saying in a low voice: + +"Colonel, I met one of the German spies tonight. Perhaps the +ring-leader. If I see him again I shall recognize him and arrest +him instantly. Do you see what this is, sir?" + +Dick held up the weapon that the carpenter had hurled at Private +Mock. + +"It is a 45-caliber, United States Government automatic pistol," +said Colonel Cleaves. + +"Exactly, sir; and the spy I have mentioned had it in his possession. +How he obtained it, I do not yet know, but I hope to find out. And +now, sir, I will tell you what happened and what action I took." + +Thereupon Captain Dick Prescott narrated the amazing adventure +of the evening, winding up with: + +"So, sir, I have placed Private Mock in arrest at the guard-house, +and through his detention there I hope to gain the clues that shall +lead us to the ferreting out and arrest of the whole crew of German +spies at Camp Berry!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AT GRIPS WITH GERMAN SPIES + + +New barracks buildings continued to spring up at Camp Berry. Drafts +of men for a National Army division began to arrive, besides +a brigade of infantry, a regiment of field artillery and a +machine-gun battalion of regulars. + +Brigadier-General Bates arrived to take command of the regulars, +while Major-general Timmins assumed command of the National Army +division and became commanding general of the camp as well. + +New batches of recruits, constantly arriving for the regulars, +soon gave the Ninety-ninth an average of a hundred and eighty +men to the company, or forty-five men to each platoon. Drill +went on as nearly incessantly during daylight as the men could +endure. + +"In my opinion it won't be very long before the Ninety-ninth goes +over and reports to General Pershing," Dick told his chum. "At +the rate our ranks are being filled up we'll soon have a full-strength +regiment." + +"But most of our men are still recruits," Holmes objected. The +regiment really isn't anywhere near fit for foreign service." + +"It won't be so many weeks before we're ordered abroad," Dick +insisted. "Wait and see whether I'm right." + +Wonderful indeed was the speed with which buildings were erected. +The record time for constructing a two-story building with an +office, supply room, mess-room and sleeping quarters for two hundred +and fifty men was ninety minutes! + +Fast, too, was the work done by the Regular Army regiments, which +had this advantage over the National Army regiments, that most of +their officers were trained regulars and a large proportion of them +West Point graduates. + +Of the sixteen men made ill by eating powdered glass not one died, +for the glass had been ground too fine to do the utmost mischief. +However, the camp was alarmed, and all food was kept under close +guard and was regularly examined with care before being served. + +Soldiers bearing German names were in some instances suspected, +and unjustly. Officers tried to undo this harm by talking among +the men. Yet all wondered what would be the next outbreak of +spy work in camp. + +Private Mock, sentenced to two weeks' arrest for being off the +reservation without leave, served his sentence moodily, usually +refusing to talk with his fellow-prisoners. + +One Private Wilhelm was also serving a term in arrest at the bull-pen. +His name was held against him Wilhelm as a brand-new man in the +regiment, and one of the few with whom Mock would talk. + +One morning the latter was overheard to say: + +"I'm sick of this war already. I hope the Germans win. If I'm +sent over to France I'll watch my chance to desert and get over +to the Germans." + +"Oh, ye will, will ye?" demanded Private Riley, another prisoner +in the bull-pen. "Ye dir-rty blackguard!" + +Buff! The Irish soldier's fist caught Mock squarely on the jaw, +sending him squarely to earth, though not knocking him out. After +a moment Mock was on his feet again, quivering with rage. He +flew at Riley, who was a smaller man, hammering him hard. Other +soldier-prisoners interfered on behalf of Riley, whereupon Private +Wilhelm, a heavily built fellow, rushed to Mock's aid. + +"A German and a German sympathizer!" + +With that yell a dozen or so of time prisoners set upon the pair. +Some lively and perhaps nearly deadly punishment would have been +handed out, had not several men of the guard rushed in, thrusting +with their rifle butts and breaking up the unequal fight. + +But Mock was reported for his utterance, and Wilhelm for his +sympathies. Both were brought up before Captain Greg Holmes, and +Dick was sent for to join in questioning the men, which was done +behind closed doors. At the end of the hearing Mock and Wilhelm +were returned to the guard-house looking much crestfallen. + +"Did you hear what they said to me?" Mock was overheard to demand +of Wilhelm. "Said they'd have me tried for saying I'd desert, +and that I'd be likely to get several years in prison for talking +too much. Oh, I'm sure sick of being in this man's army!" + +"Sure!" nodded Wilhelm, understandingly. "It's tough!" + +"It'll be tougher, I warrant ye, if we hear ye two blackguards +using any more of your line of talk around here," Riley broke +in. "The guar-rd won't be forever stopping our pounding ye!" + +After that Mock and Wilhelm were left severely alone by their +fellow-prisoners in the bull-pen. Most of these men were serving +merely sentences of a day to a week for minor infractions of +discipline. + +The next morning Private Riley managed to get word to Greg that +Private Brown, of the guard, had been talking with Mock at the +barbed wire of the pen enclosure. + +"Private Brown is supposed to be an all right soldier, but he'll +bear watching," was Dick's comment when he heard the report. + +That afternoon it was reported that both Mock and Wilhelm had +been talking with Private Brown at the barbed wire fence. Dick +smiled grimly when he heard it. + +The next morning orders were read releasing Mock, Wilhelm, Riley +and some of the other soldier prisoners ahead of time that they +might not be deprived of too much instruction. The released ones +were cautioned to be extremely careful, in the future, not to +fall under the disciplinary ban. + +"Sure, I can understand some of us getting out, but not Mock," +declared Riley to a bunkie (chum). "Him an' his talk about deserting +to the enemy!" + +In the meantime Dick had given an accurate description of the +carpenter who had tried to enlist Mock in some dangerous scheme +of revenge. The fellow had disappeared from among the gang of +carpenters, and that was all that was known. Secret Service men +had been put on the trail, but had failed to find the fellow. + +"Now, maybe a soldier sometimes says more than he means," broke +in Sergeant Kelly, who had come up behind the pair on the nearly +deserted drill ground. "Soldiers are like other people in that +respect." + +"But not Mock," Riley objected. "He's a bad egg." + +"I don't say he isn't," Kelly rejoined. "What I'm advising you +is not to conclude that a man is worthless just because he talks. +For that matter, Riley, I believe that the men we have most to +fear are spies who manage to get in the Army, talk straight and +do their work well, and all the time they're plotting all kinds +of mischief. Like the fellow or the chaps who put that powdered +glass in the chow of F company not long ago." + +"Here's hoping I live to see Mock hanged!" grumbled Private Riley, +as Sergeant Kelly moved away. + +Kelly, who had served as sergeant with Dick in other regiments, +had followed him into the Ninety-ninth. Prescott rejoiced that +he had this excellent fellow with him, as capable first sergeants +are always looked upon in the light of prizes. + +Yet, in a---to him---new man Greg Holmes had an almost equally +good top in Lund, a Swede who had put in ten years in the Army. + +When Greg dropped into the company office that forenoon, Lund +handed him a list of men who had put in application for pass that +afternoon. It was to be a visitors' afternoon, and there would +be no drills. + +"Nineteen, and all good conduct men, Sergeant Lund," commented +Greg, glancing over the list and reaching for a pencil with which +to O.K. the list. + +"And two more put in application, but I didn't put their names +down, sir," Lund explained, as he stood at the side of the young +captain at the desk. + +"Who were they?" + +"Mock and Wilhelm." + +"Have they behaved themselves since they got out of arrest?" + +"Oh, yes, sir." + +"Then we'll let them off this afternoon," proposed Holmes amiably, +as he wrote time two names down on the list. "Perhaps they'll turn +out better for a bit of considerate treatment." + +Though Lund frowned as he received the list back in his own hand +he made no comment. + +Immediately after the noon meal Mock and Wilhelm exhibited their +passes to the guard and walked briskly out of camp. + +"Look at that now---the pair of traitors!" muttered Private Riley, +as he spat vengefully on the ground. "Me, I knew better than +to ask for it, and me so lately out of the pen. But those bir-rds +with dir-rty feathers get their chance to go off the reservation +and plot more mischief." + +Had Private Riley been able to follow the pair unseen he would +have been even angrier. Mock and Wilhelm, stepping briskly along +the road over which Dick had ridden that eventful evening, kept +on for some three miles, then turned abruptly off into the forest. + +For another half mile they kept on, going further and further from +the road. + +"Here's the spot," said Mock, after some hunting under the trees. +"It must be the place, for it has the nail driven into the tree +trunk." + +"Sure, it's the place all right," Wilhelm agreed. + +Mock emitted a shrill whistle that would not, however, carry very +far. Instantly there came an answering whistle. + +"And here we are!" spoke up the stoop-shouldered stranger, coming +out of a. jungle of bushes. "I'm glad to see that you're on +time. And to-day I hope you've more sand than you had that night." + +"Forget it," said Mock shortly. + +"You're ready now?" + +"To do anything," Mock agreed. + +"Sure! He's all right!" Private Wilhelm nodded. "I've attended +to that." + +"Come here, Carl!" called the stoop-shouldered one, in a low voice. + +From another clump of bushes came another man, bearded and +bespectacled. If there's anything in a face, Carl was unmistakably +German. + +"Carl will tell you what to do," said time stoop-shouldered one. + +"You men are in two different companies?" asked the man behind +spectacles. + +"I'm in B company," nodded Mock. "Wilhelm is in E company." + +"Then you can take care of two companies of men," Carl went on. +"Do to-morrow morning what I'm going to tell you. See these?" + +The bespectacled one held up two vials that he had taken from +a pocket. + +"Each one of you takes one of these," he went on. "Hide them +to-night where you please. In the morning, when the men in your +barracks hang their bedding out of the windows and go down to +breakfast, stay behind. Uncork a vial, each of you, and sprinkle +the liquid in here on the bedding of at least half a dozen soldiers. +You understand? Then slip down to your breakfasts." + +"What's in these vials?" asked Mock, taking the one offered him +and curiously inspecting the liquid in it. + +"Germs!" said the bespectacled one. "Measles. Do as I tell you, +and in a few days measles will begin to run through the two companies +like wildfire. In a few days more it ought to be well through +the regiment. Tomorrow night slip out of camp and come here. +Under those bushes over there you'll find civilian clothing. +Understand? Yes? In the pockets of each suit you'll find the +money to pay for your work. Take off your uniforms and put on +the other clothes. Then go where you please, but be sure to keep +out of time Army after this, for American soldiers are going to +die fast! The money you'll find will take care of you. Yes?" + +"Yes!" nodded Mock. "Sure!" + +Then, suddenly, Mock turned and whistled. + +"You two men will throw up your hands!" came in the sharp tones +of Captain Dick Prescott, as he, Sergeant Kelly and four privates +stepped into view. + +"You sneak!" yelled the stoop-shouldered one, making a rush at +Mock and trying to seize the vial. But Mock dodged. In the same +instant the bespectacled German tried to snatch the other vial +away from Wilhelm, but that soldier, too, dodged and saved the +vial. + +"On the ground is a good place for you!" growled Sergeant Kelly, +knocking the stoop-shouldered stranger flat. Then, before the +fellow could rise Kelly had snapped handcuffs his wrists. + +Two of the soldiers seized the bespectacled German just as he +started to run. He, too, felt the clasp of steel around his wrists. +Though Kelly and the four privates were armed with automatic +pistols no weapon had been drawn. + +"Twice you've played the sneak, you!" hissed the stoop-shouldered +one, glaring at Private Mock. + +"Twice more I'll do it to help Uncle Sam," retorted Mock, with +a short laugh. "I owed it to you to see you caught!" + +"But you're a German!" hissed the bespectacled one at Wilhelm. +"Why did you turn on us, who are also German?" + +"My father was a German; he's an American now," said Wilhelm, +coolly. "Me, I've always been an American, and I'm one now, and +will be as long as I live." + +"Let me have those vials," Dick ordered. "Sergeant, take these, +and mark them as soon as you get back to company office. Then +we'll turn them over to the medical department. Sergeant, march +your prisoners." + +Heading toward the road Sergeant Kelly and his four soldiers led +the German captives away. + +Captain Dick, with Mock and Wilhelm, followed, but did not attempt +to keep up with the sergeant's party, + +When Kelly showed up in camp again he did not have his prisoners +with him. He had taken them elsewhere, and they were soon on +their way to an internment camp, where, like "good" Germans in +America, they would live until the close of the war, cut off from +all further chance to plot against Uncle Sam's soldiers. + +Halting at a farm-house on the way, Dick telephoned to regimental +headquarters. Two minutes after his message had been received +Private Brown, white-faced and haggard, was placed under arrest. +Under grilling, he confessed what Secret Service men had already +learned---that his name was really spelled B-r-a-u-n; that both +he and his father were German subjects, and that the young man +had enlisted for the sole purpose of playing the spy and the plotter +in the Army. + +It had been Mock's talk of deserting in France that had caused Braun +to talk to Mock, who had been told by Captain Prescott to talk in +that vein while in the bull-pen. Braun had fallen into the trap. + +As for Wilhelm---which wasn't the young an's real name---he was +the son of a German-born father, but a young man of known loyalty +to the United States. He wasn't a soldier, but a War Department +agent who had donned the uniform for a purpose, and had come to +Camp Berry with a draft of real soldiers. + +And this was the plan that Dick had worked out following his pretended +arrest of Mock that night up the road. Mock, resolved to become +a good soldier again, had undergone his humiliation in the bull-pen, +and the scorn of his fellow-prisoners, in order to trap the +stoop-shouldered German, a pretended carpenter, but really August +Biederfeld, a German spy. The bespectacled one, Dr. Carl Ebers, +was another spy. The two had delivered their messages in camp +through Braun. + +While the pair Ebers and Biederfeld were interned, Braun, as one +who had enlisted in the Army and had taken the oath of service, +was court-martialed on a charge of high treason, and shot for +his crimes. Before his death he confessed that it was he who +had shaken the powdered glass in the food of F company, the stuff +having been supplied by Dr. Ebers. It was Braun, also, who had +damaged the machine gun and worked havoc with infantry rifles, +he, too, had forged and placed the pretended Prescott note about +"Cooking Cartwright's goose." + +"Wilhelm" soon vanished, undoubtedly to do other work as an alleged +German sympathizer elsewhere. As for Mock: + +"Private James Mock, B company, having suffered humiliation and +scorn that he might better fulfil his oath and serve his country, +is hereby restored to his former rank of sergeant in B company, +and with full honor, he will be obeyed and respected accordingly." + +So ran the official order published to the regiment. + +The liquid in the two vials was found to be swarming with measles +germs that would have started a veritable epidemic at Camp Berry. + +Captain Dick Prescott's quick thinking and steady action had resulted +in the capture of the German spies who were seeking to destroy +the Ninety-ninth. + +No quiet days, however, were in store for the regiment. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WITH THE CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS + + +"No other business, Sergeant?" asked Dick, one October morning, +as he looked up from the desk in company office at his "top." + +"Among the nineteen National Army men drafted into this regiment, +sir, are three conscientious objectors who ask to be transferred +to some non-fighting branch of the service." + +"Send for them," ordered Dick briefly, a frown settling on his brow. + +Privates Ellis, Rindle and Pitson speedily reported in the office, +saluting, then standing at attention. + +"You men are all conscientious objectors?" Prescott asked coldly. + +"Yes, sir," said the three together. + +"You all have conscientious objections to being hurt?" Prescott +went on. + +"I have conscientious scruples against killing a human being, sir," +replied Private Ellis. + +"And you also have scruples against giving him a chance to kill +you," Dick went on mercilessly. "You believe in a police force +for preserving order in a community, do you?" + +"Y-yes, sir." + +"If you found a burglar in your home, and had an opportunity, you +would send for a policeman?" + +"Yes, sir," Ellis admitted. + +"Even though you knew the policeman might find it necessary to kill +the burglar in attempting to arrest him?" Prescott quizzed. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then, while you presumably would not kill a burglar yourself you +would not object to calling a policeman who might do it?" + +Private Ellis began to suspect the trap into which he was falling. + +"I could not bear to kill the burglar myself, sir," he replied. + +"And you would not want the burglar to kill you, so you would +summon a policeman to do whatever killing might be necessary. +In that case, are you a moral objector to killing, or are you +merely a coward who relies on another to do the killing for you?" + +Private Ellis appeared much confused. + +"Answer me," Dick commanded. + +"The case doesn't seem the same to me, sir, as serving as a fighting +man in the war." + +"The case is exactly the same, except in the matter of magnitude," +Prescott retorted. "Germany is the burglar, trying to break into +the house of the world. You haven't time necessary courage to +fight a German yourself, but you will be glad to see a braver man +serve on the firing line in your stead. And you are a conscientious +objector, too, are you, Rindle?" + +"I---I thought I was, sir," confessed the soldier. "Your questions, +sir, and your way of putting the case confuse me." + +"And you, Pitson?" Dick demanded, eyeing the third man. "Knowing +that, if you are sent to some non-combatant work, some other man +will have to be sent to this company to do your killing work for +you, you wish to dodge fighting duty?" + +"Yes, sir; I do," Pitson answered unhesitatingly. + +"Pitson, consider the matter seriously and try to decide whether +you're a moral hero or a physical coward!" + +"Sir, I am no mor-----" + +Here the man hesitated, growing red in the face. + +"Out with it," Dick smiled coolly. + +"I am a conscientious objector, sir," Pitson rejoined. "No matter +what punishment may await me for refusing, I _must_ decline to +accept any duty that may call upon me to kill another human being." + +"Yet you would call a policeman, in the case of finding a burglar +in your house?" + +"Not if I thought the policeman would have to kill the burglar, +sir," Pitson protested. + +"I'll wager the fellow is lying, at that," Prescott reflected, +as he rose. "Take off your hat, Pitson." + +The soldier obeyed. His forehead sloped up and back. The back +of his head sloped up and forward, so that the top of his head was +pointshaped. + +"I've been interested in seeing what the head of a real conscientious +objector looked like," Dick remarked slowly. "I've seen your +head and from its shape I believe you to be a real conscientious +objector. I am going to approve your transfer to a non-combatant +branch, Pitson. You may step outside until you are sent for again." + +After Pitson had gone Dick ordered the two remaining men to remove +their campaign hats. He studied the shapes of their heads so +attentively that both young men winced plainly under the inspection. + +"Your heads are shaped differently from Pitson's," Prescott went +on. "The top of his head goes up to a point. If a mule had a +head shaped like that our veterinary surgeons would call it a +fool mule and reject it. But you men have heads expressing more +intelligence. + +"What is the matter with you two? Have you been listening to +socialistic or other freak talk? Do you realize that the German +Kaiser and his nation threaten the freedom of the world? Do you +realize that the Germans want to rule this world, and do you know +how they would rule it, and what a miserable, impossible world +it would be for free men to live in? + +"Do you realize that the only way we can stop the Germans from +ruling the world in their own brutal way is for the free men +of all good nations to fight? Do you fully understand that we +cannot fight such a beastly enemy in any other way than by killing +him? Do you so thoroughly object to fighting that you would see +a free world ground under the heel of the despotic Kaiser sooner +than help kill his soldiers and thus prevent such a world-wide +tragedy? Are you men, or are you dish-rags? Are your consciences +so important that you would put the world in cruel bondage rather +than violate your own little personal ideas of what is moral? +Are you men so sure you're right that you'd dodge a slight wrong---if +wrong it be---and allow the greatest wrong ever attempted to triumph? +Do your moral principles tell you that it is better to let Shame +rule the world instead of Justice?" + +Ellis and Rindle were plainly non-plussed by Dick's passionate +appeal to their broader sense of right and truth. + +"I'm afraid you two have been patting yourselves on the back in +the idea that you stood out for a great moral principle," Captain +Prescott resumed. "Don't you begin to see that the fact is that, +instead, you're really moral slackers who'd let the world go into +the devil's keeping provided you didn't have to be made to do +something that you don't want to do? I won't say you're physical +cowards, for honestly I hardly think you are, but aren't you at +least moral slackers?" + +Private Ellis swallowed hard before he replied: + +"No, sir; I'm not a moral slacker, for I've changed my mind. +I'm going to fight if I'm told to. I'm going to do whatever Uncle +Sam wants me to do. You've put the matter in a different light +to me, Captain Prescott." + +"And you, Rindle?" + +"I'm going to do myself the honor of asking permission to remain +in your company, sir," replied the second man, his mouth twitching. +"I'm a bit of a fool, sir. But I don't believe that I'm a fool +all the way through. I believe that I can see at least part of +a truth when it's put to me fairly, and now I believe that it's +right to fight for truth and justice as against black tyranny---and +I'm ready to do it." + +"Good enough!" cried Dick, his face lighting up, as he held out +his hand. "If you have any further doubts, later, come to me. +I don't know everything, but we can get together and perhaps +between us we can get close to the truth." + +Shaking hands with the soldiers who had found themselves, and +dismissing them, Dick added: + +"Sergeant Kelly, find out what non-combatant branch that fellow +Pitson would prefer to serve in, see what unit will have him, and +then bring the transfer papers to me to sign." + +Passing into the corridor, and hearing the piano's notes in the +mess-room he glanced inside. It was a rest period between drills, +and a soldier seated at the instrument strummed his way through +the air of a mournful ditty. It's an odd thing that when the +average soldier is wholly cheerful he prefers the "sobful" melodies. + +At one of the long mess tables near the piano sat four young men, +paying no heed to the music, nor, in fact, doing anything in +particular. + +"How many of you men have mothers?" Prescott asked with a smile. + +All admitted that they had. + +"How many of you have written that mother to-day?" + +None had. + +"How many wrote her yesterday?" None. + +"Think hard," Dick went on. "Has any of you written his mother +a letter within five days?" + +One soldier asserted that he had written his mother four days before. + +"I wish you men would do me a favor," Dick went on. "Each one +of you write his mother at least a four-page letter and mail it +before supper. There is going to be time enough between drills +to-day. How about it?" + +Each of the four soldiers standing at attention promised promptly. + +"All right, then," Prescott nodded. "Rest!" Whereupon they resumed +their seats on the bench. "Remember that a promise is a promise. +And I've seen enough of soldiers to know that they're likely to +be careless where it hurts most." + +"I'd do anything Captain Prescott asked me to do," remarked one +of the soldiers when Dick had passed on out of barracks. + +"If I knew anything he wanted me to do I'd do it before he asked +me," declared another. + +When a captain's men feel that way about him it's a cinch that +he commands a real fighting unit. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +ORDERS FOR "OVER THERE" + + +During the next drill period Sergeant Kelly, hearing an angry +voice, glanced out through the window. + +In the last draft to the company some green recruits had come in, +men who had been drafted to the National Army and sent to the +Regulars to fill up. Among them were Privates Ellis and Rindle. + +"About face!" rapped out the crisp tones of Corporal Barrow, as +he glared at eight men in double rank. + +Badly enough most of them turned. "You poor mutt-heads!" rasped +the corporal. "Do you think you'll ever make soldiers?" + +In a jiffy Kelly reached for his campaign hat, put it on, and +stepped out into the corridor, passing out and heading for the +drill ground. + +"Right dress!" called out Corporal Barrow. "Front! Rotten! +I wonder if you fellows think you'll ever be soldiers?" + +Plainly the recruits were chafing under the lash of the corporal's +tongue. But Barrow, a young man of twenty-two, who had received +his chevrons after only four months of service, was in no mind +to be easily pleased to-day. + +"You're the most stupid squad in the regiment!" the young non-com +went on. "Your place is in the bullpen, not in the ranks." + +"Let the squad rest a minute or two, Corporal, and come with me," +Sergeant Kelly called placidly. "I've a message far you." + +Giving the required order, and lull of curiosity, Corporal Barrow +stepped quickly over to Kelly, who, placing a hand on the young +man's shoulder, walked him some distance away. Suddenly the top +sergeant, his back turned to the squad, grilled Barrow with a +blazing gaze. + +"You poor boob in uniform!" rapped the sergeant. "Whatever made +you think of taking up soldiering. And what made you think yourself +fit to be in a regiment of Regulars? Do you know your left foot +from your right? You know as much about the manual of arms as I do +about Hebrew verbs. When you salute an officer you're a standing +disgrace to the service! Do you know what you ought to be doing +in life?" + +His face growing violently red, Barrow soon forgot to be indignant +in the excess of his wonder. + +"Meaning---what?" he demanded, thickly, his lower jaw sagging +in bewilderment. + +"How do you like the way I'm talking to you?" asked Sergeant Kelly, +his own strong jaw thrust out as though he were seeking to provoke +a quarrel. + +"Why do you ask?" demanded the corporal, with some show of spirit. +"Does any man enjoy being spoken to like a thieving dog?" + +Instantly Kelly dropped back into a placid tone. + +"How do you think the men of that squad like hearing you talk +to them as I've just talked to you?" + +"But they're such numbskulls!" declared Barrow. + +"You won't improve their intelligence by turning the hot water +on them all the time," Sergeant Kelly continued. "Could I make +a better corporal of you by scorching you every time I saw you?" + +"You know you couldn't." + +"No more can you turn those rookies into soldiers by raging at +them every time you speak. Take it from me, Corporal Barrow, +the wise drill-master doesn't use any rough talk once a week, +and not even then unless nothing else will answer. Talk to the +men right along as I heard you doing, and they won't have a particle +of respect for you. That being the case, you cannot teach them +anything that it will be worth their while to know. If the captain +had heard what I heard you saying to those men he'd put you back +in the awkward squad yourself. Patience is the first thing a +drill-master needs. Whom do you call the smartest corporal in +the company?" + +"Corporal Smedley," Barrow answered, without hesitation. + +"Right, and he's going to be the next new sergeant. But Smedley +is the most patient drill-master in the company. Shall I send him +over to show you how to handle a green squad?" + +"Don't, Sergeant!" + +"All right, then; I won't---unless you give me new reason to think +it necessary," smiled Kelly. Then his hand, still resting on the +younger man's shoulder, he walked back to where the squad waited. + +"I'll tell you more about it any time you want to know," was Kelly's +last statement before he turned away. + +"Attention!" called Corporal Barrow briskly. "Saluting is one +of the things a new soldier is likely to do badly at first. I'm +going to put you through a few minutes of it." + +This time Barrow patiently singled out the soldier giving the +poorest salute. + +"You don't bring your hand up smartly enough," Barrow explained +patiently. "Try it again. No; don't bring it up with a jerk. +Do it like this---smartly, without jerk. No; that's not right, +either. Hold your hand horizontally when it touches your hat-brim. +Hold it the way I am doing. Don't be in a hurry to let hand +fall, either. When saluting an officer, keep the hand at the +hat-brim until he has returned the salute, or you've passed him. +There, you have it right now, Rindle. Do it three times more, +dropping your hand when I see you and return the salute. That's +it. Good work. Try it again, all together. Squad, salute!" + +"Well done, Corporal," chimed in the voice of Captain Prescott, +who had come up behind the instructor, "Be sure that the squad +has drill enough in the salute, for a man is never a really good +soldier until he can render a salute smartly. Let the men break +ranks, Corporal, and have each man pass me in turn, saluting the +best he knows how." + +As Captain Dick stood there, receiving and returning the salute +of each rookie as he passed, the young company commander noted +each man's performance with keen eyes. + +"First rate for recruits, Corporal," Prescott said, as he turned +away. "Give them daily drill at it, however." + +Corporal Barrow gave his own most precise salute as he received +his captain's orders. Then he called: + +"In double rank, fall in! Mark time, march! Step more smartly, +Pelham. Hip, hip, hip! Squad halt! One, two!" + +From the corner of the building Dick had paused an instant to +glance back. Then he went into the company office. + +"I've just been watching Corporal Barrow and his new recruit squad, +Sergeant," Dick announced. "The men are doing first-rate for +new men. Corporal Barrow is a patient and competent drill-master." + +"Yes, sir," Kelly replied, without trace of a smile. + +"The patient instructor is the only one who can teach a recruit, +Sergeant. If you ever see a non-com in this company losing his +temper set him straight at the first chance." + +"Yes, sir." + +"But don't make the correction in hearing of the squad unless the +case is a flagrant one." + +"No, sir," Sergeant Kelly promised, his eyes smileless. + +"How near is the company to full strength this morning?" + +"Only twelve men short, sir. A new draft, coining in on the 4.10 +train this afternoon is expected to fill all companies to strength, +sir." + +Dick Prescott felt a sudden thrill. Filling up the companies +of the Ninety-ninth appeared to promise that the regiment would +soon be on its way overseas! + +"If we get our full strength this afternoon, Sergeant, be sure +to have the clothing requisitions for them all in shape by this +evening. Then we'll try to draw to-morrow morning." + +"Yes, sir." + +"And---sergeant!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I'm mighty glad that you applied for transfer to this regiment +when I was ordered to it. I don't know what I'd do without you." + +"Thank you, sir!" + +Kelly had sprung to his feet. He now stood at salute as Prescott +left the office. + +The train due at 4.10 arrived after 8.30 that evening. Twelve +new men, assigned to A company, were marched to barracks after +ten. No man in the detachment had eaten since early morning. The +mess sergeant had coffee and sandwiches ready. + +It was midnight when Kelly, with the aid of other non-coms, had +the measurements of the new men on paper and his clothing requisition +ready. Dick Prescott was on hand to sign as company commander. + +At six in the morning first call to reveille sounded from the bugles. + +Like the other companies in the regiment A company tumbled out +of its cots. Men dressed, seized soap, towels, brushes and combs, +and hurried to the wash-room at the rear of barracks. Then back +again, the final touches being administered. Outside a bugle +blew, calling the men to first formation. Then mess-call caused +two hundred and fifty hungry soldiers to file into the mess-room, +kits in hand, and line up at the further end for food and hot drink. + +At 7.46 Dick Prescott stepped briskly into the company office. + +"Sergeant Kelly, have each man carry out his mattress to the incinerator +and empty out the straw. Detail men to burn the straw. Have +the cots piled at the end of each squad room. At 8.25 turn the +company out with barracks bags and dismiss after the bags have +been placed. At 8.40 turn out the company in full marching order, +with arms and pack, for inspection. As soon as practicable thereafter +the men will be turned out again for issue of razors." + +"Yes, sir," Kelly replied with a quiver. "Of course you know what +it means, Sergeant?" + +"The regiment is moving, sir." + +"Moving by rail to the point of embarkation, Sergeant. We're---at +last we're going over!" + +There must have been an eavesdropper outside the office door, +for instantly, so it seemed, the news flashed through the building. + +"Orders have come!" + +"We're going over!" + +"_Now_!" + +"Stop that cheering, men!" boomed Dick Prescott's voice, as he +stepped into the corridor. "This is Georgia, and you'll wake +all the sleeping babies in North Carolina." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ON BOARD THE TROOPSHIP + + +North to an embarkation camp, not to a pier. There passed several +days of restlessness and unreality of life. + +Final issues of all lacking equipment were made at last. Then, +one evening, after dark, the Ninety-ninth once more fell in and +marched away, the bandsmen, carrying their silent instruments, +marching in headquarters company. + +No send-off, no cheering, not even the playing of "The Girl I +Left Behind Me." + +No relatives or friends to say good-bye! Nothing but secrecy, +expectancy, an indescribable eagerness clothed in stealth. + +"How do you feel, Sergeant?" Captain Prescott asked, as he and +his top stood at the head of A company awaiting the final order +that was to set the nearly four thousand officers and men of the +Ninety-ninth in motion on the road. + +"Like a burglar, sneaking out of a house he didn't realize he +was in, sir," Kelly answered. + +First Lieutenant Noll Terry shivered; it was impatient +uncertainty---nothing else. + +Then the order came. The dense column reached the railway, where +the sections of the troop train waited. By platoons the men marched +into dimly lighted cars. When all were aboard the lights were +turned off, leaving Uncle Sam's men in complete darkness, save +where a pipe or cigarette glowed. + +Despite the eagerness the newness and uncertainty of it all, many +of the soldiers dozed unconscious of the talk and laughter of others. +Singing was forbidden and non-coms had orders to be alert to stop +any unnecessarily loud noises. + +Forth into the night fared the sections of the train. How long +it was on the rail none of the men had any clear idea. It was +still dark, however, when a stop was made and the order ran +monotonously along: + +"All out!" + +Again dim lights were turned on, that men might find all their +belongings. Adjusting their packs the platoons of the Ninety-ninth +found their way to the ground below. + +For once there was no attempt at good military formation. At +route step and in irregular columns, the regiment moved forward +by platoons. Unknown officers stood along the way to direct, +for the regiment's platoon leaders had no knowledge of the way. + +Thus a mile or more was covered by a regiment that looked disorganized +and spectral in the darkness. Then the aspect changed somewhat. +Whiffs of salt air prepared the soldiers. Army trucks were moving +on parallel roads or trails. Ahead of them appeared high fences +of barbed wire. It looked as though the travelers had come upon +a huge bull-pen. There were gates, guarded by military sentries +not of the Ninety-ninth. + +Through these gates and past the barbed wire filed the marching men. + +Further ahead loomed the sheds of a great pier. + +With the help of officers who knew the ground the Ninety-ninth found +room to fall in for roll call. + +"All present or accounted for!" + +Then battalion by battalion, a company at a time, the regiment +passed on through the dimly lighted pier sheds. On the further +side towered the bulwarks of a great ship, with gangways reaching +down to the pier. + +In some mysterious way order reigned and speed was observed. +Line after line of uniformed men passed up the gangways and vanished. +Lights were on the ship, yet dim enough to be in keeping with the +night's mystery. + +Last of all the almost muffled noises of gangways being drawn +down on to the piers. Hawsers were cast off. Stealthy tugs hauled +the ocean monster out into the stream. + +"Off at last!" was felt more than spoken. Then the tugs let go +and the ship, outwardly darkened save for the few necessary running +lights, moved slowly down stream. + +Some venturesome soldiers found their way up on deck. + +Above them, on a still higher deck, the shadowy forms of officers +were discernible. + +The strangeness of the dark sea lay over all. It seemed uncanny, +this dark departure from one's native land---the land for which +these men were going to fight, to bleed and die! + +Yet there was no sense of fear. It was the strangeness that gripped +all minds. + +Up forward on the spar deck a few enlisted men opened their mouths +to sing. The chorus grew in volume and the words rolled up: + +_"And I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way!"_ + +_"For I belong to the Regulars. I'm proud to say."_ + +_"And I'll do my dooty-ooty, Night or day."_ + +_"I don't know where I'm going, But I'm on my way!"_ Breaking +through the words the ship's deep-throated whistle boomed its +own notes. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN THE WATERS OF THE SEA WOLVES + + +Some days later the same ship steamed steadily through the waters +on the further side of the Atlantic. + +Nor was the Ninety-ninth alone. Seven other transports were keeping +her company, together with a busy, bustling escort of British and +American destroyers. + +For these American adventurers of to-day were nearing the coast +of Ireland. + +Whether these transports were to unload their cargoes of human +beings and munitions at any port in Great Britain or Ireland few +on the transports knew, nor did those few tell others. + +Ever since the first morning out there had been daily drills, +on every transport, in abandoning ship. A few night drills, too, +had been held. Not an officer or man was there but knew his station +and his lifeboat in case of disastrous meeting with a submarine. + +These had not been the only drills, however. From morning to +night platoons had been drawn up on the decks and military drills +had been all but incessant while daylight lasted. Especially +had the newest recruits been drilled. By this time the latest +of them to join the regiment had gained considerable of the appearance +of the soldier. + +Dick and Greg, sharing the same cabin, had been much together, +for on shipboard they had found much leisure. It had been the +lieutenants who had drilled the platoons. Captains were but little +occupied on shipboard. + +On the morning that it became known that the fleet had entered +the Danger Zone, Dick and Greg stood on deck to the port of the +pilot house. Leaning over the rail they idly scanned the surface +of the sea to northward. + +"Almost in France, my boy!" Prescott cried eagerly. "Or England!" + +"Near enough, yet we may never see either country," returned Captain +Holmes, suppressing a yawn, for the sea air, even after a night's +rest, made him drowsy. + +"Croaker!" laughed Dick. + +"I'm not," Greg denied, "and I don't want to croak, either, but +who can tell? We are now in the waters where the sea wolves have +been busy enough in finding prey." + +"So far they haven't proved that they could do much to troopships," +Dick declared warmly. + +"There always has to be a first time," Holmes retorted. + +"All right, then," smiled Prescott. "We're going to be torpedoed. +Now, I hope that satisfies you." + +"You know it doesn't," Holmes rejoined. "This sea air makes me +so sleepy, all the time, that I don't feel as though I could stand +any real excitement." + +"Being torpedoed would be something to look back upon in later +years," Dick observed thoughtfully. + +"Yes, if we had any later years on earth in which to look back," +Captain Holmes responded. + +"Who's this strange-looking creature coming?" Dick suddenly demanded, +as he stared aft. + +"Captain Craig, the adjutant, of course," Greg answered. "He has +his life belt on, and he's stopping to talk to others." + +"After he speaks they hurry away," Dick went on. "I understand. +All hands are ordered to put on life belts." + +And that, indeed, proved to be the message that Captain Craig +brought forward with him. Dick and Greg did not have far to go +to reach their cabin. In five minutes they reappeared on deck +in the bulky contrivances intended to buoy them up in the water +should they have the bad fortune to find themselves tossing on +the waves. + +"This makes the danger seem real," Prescott observed. + +"Too blamed real!" grumbled Greg. "We're ordered not to take +these belts off, either, until the order is passed, and are told +that the order won't be passed to-day, either. Imagine our trying +to get close to the dining table to eat in comfort!" + +"It may be in the plans that we're not to eat to-day," Captain +Dick laughed. + +Ahead, on either flank and at the rear, the torpedo-boat destroyers +were scouting vigilantly, with gunners standing by ready to fire +promptly at any periscope or conning tower of an enemy craft that +might be sighted. + +"I don't suppose there'll be any band concert this afternoon," +said Greg Holmes suddenly and ruefully. "And we have a mighty +good band, too. And probably no band concert to-morrow forenoon, +either." + +"We may not be at sea to-morrow forenoon," Dick suggested. + +"Have you been able to figure out at all where we are?" Captain +Holmes asked. + +"I haven't. I don't know either our course or the speed at which +we are traveling. All I am sure of is that we are still out of +sight of land. I was told that we are nearing the coast of Ireland, +but Ireland is a town of some size, so the information isn't very +explicit." + +"Say," ejaculated Greg, suddenly looking over at the water, "we +have begun to hit up a faster speed. So have the other transports. +And look at the destroyers off yonder. They are moving faster, +too. I wonder if any submarine signs have been seen." + +There could be no doubt that the fleet was moving faster. + +"I take it," Prescott guessed, "that we've reached the part of +the ocean, where greater speed is considered much more healthful." + +"The leading transport is signaling, and so are the destroyers +in the lead," Greg announced, peering ahead. + +In their path, and coming nearer four columns of dense smoke could +be observed ascending as though coming up out of the water. + +"More destroyers, or some cruisers, coming out to meet us," Dick +conjectured. "As yet they're too far away to be seen from this +deck. Yes, I must be right. Look at the watch officers on the +bridge. They are using their marine glasses and looking forward." + +"More craft coming to help us?" Greg called up, after having walked +nearly under the bridge end on the port side. + +"Yes, sir," replied one of the watch officers. "Four American +destroyers coming up to strengthen the escort." + +Then he named the oncoming craft, whereat Dick Prescott started +with pleasure. + +"The first two are the craft commanded by Darry and Danny Grin," +Dick murmured to his chum. + +"That's right," Greg nodded. "I wonder if they know we're here." + +"Probably not. And they wouldn't recognize us, even if they saw +us at a distance. The uniform tends to make all men look alike +at a very little distance. It will seem tough, though, to be +so near Darry and Danny Grin and not have even a wave of the hand +from them." + +"What part of the ocean are we in?" Greg called up to the obliging +bridge officer. + +"On the surface, sir," came the dry reply. "On the surface---just +where, in latitude and longitude?" Holmes insisted. + +But the ship's officer smiled and shook his head. + +"I'm not permitted to tell that, sir. Wish I could." + +Going at the speed now employed the transport fleet and the oncoming +destroyers were not long in getting to close quarters. + +Dick named the two destroyers commanded by Lieutenant-Commander +Dave Darrin and Lieutenant-Commander Dan Dalzell and asked the +bridge officer if he could point them out. That the man above +was able and very glad to do. + +"We'll keep our eyes open in the hope of being close enough to +signal Darry and Danny Grin," Captain Holmes suggested. + +"We-----" Dick began, but he stopped right there, for of a sudden +three of the destroyers let go with their three-inch guns with +a great deal of energy. + +Two periscopes had been sighted off to northward. After a few +rounds had been served from the destroyers' guns the firing ceased, +for half a dozen of the escort craft had gone racing northward +and there was danger of hitting them. + +Not that any periscopes were now visible, however, for these had +been instantly withdrawn under the surface. The destroyers, however, +went alertly in search of their enemy prey, even to dropping a +few depth bombs on the chance of destroying the enemy sub-sea craft. + +"A good warning, at least," commented Captain Prescott. "We don't +feel quite as foolish, now, in our life belts." + +Everlastingly and splendidly alert the naval craft had chased +off the sea wolves ere the latter had had time to bare their teeth! + +Still more the speed was increased. An hour passed in which there +was no alarm. Then the enlisted men, forward, filed below decks +to have their early noon meal. The first lieutenants of each +company went below, too, to inspect the food served to their men. + +Half an hour later the Ninety-ninth's officers descended to their +own mess in the cabin dining-room. + +"This trip through the danger zone isn't as exciting as I had +supposed and expected it would be," announced Major Wells. + +"Yet, sir, one attempt was made against us this forenoon," said +Dick. + +"True, but the destroyers showed how promptly the attackers could +be driven off," the major argued. + +"Yet suppose the destroyers had been half a minute longer in sighting +the tell-tale periscopes?" Prescott suggested. + +"But they weren't tardy, and it wouldn't be like the Navy to be +slow," rejoined Major Wells. "I still contend that there is nothing +very exciting in passing through the danger zone on a troopship." + +"And I hope, sir," Greg put in, "that nothing will happen to change +your mind about the danger. For my part, I have been eating in +momentary expectation of feeling a big smash against the side +of the ship." + +"What is happening now?" demanded Lieutenant Noll Terry, half-rising +from his chair. + +All could feel that the big ship had suddenly changed her course +to a violent oblique movement to starboard. Yet, as no alarm had +been sounded no officer cared to rise and hurry to deck. It might +make him look timid or nervous. + +"There we go again, in the opposite direction. We're zig-zagging. +What do you make of that, Captain?" Lieutenant Terry asked. + +"The enemy craft must be around and sending torpedoes our way," +Dick guessed, dropping a lump of sugar in his coffee and stirring +it slowly. + +"In a merry throng like this the suspicion that you're being dogged +by a hostile submarine doesn't strike one as very terrifying, +does it?" Greg inquired as he took a piece of cake from the plate +held out to him. + +At this moment the adjutant, Captain Craig, who had been eating +with Colonel Cleaves in the latter's quarters above, entered the +dining-room briskly, stepping to a nearby table and rapping for +attention. + +"Gentlemen," he announced, "the sea appears to be infested, at +this point, with unseen enemy craft. Ours, among other transports, +has narrowly dodged two torpedoes. It is quite within the limits +of possibility that we may be struck at any moment. The commanding +officer therefore requests me to ask that company officers, +especially second lieutenants, finish their meal as quickly as +possible and station themselves near their men. This is not to be +done hurriedly, or with any sign of excitement, but merely in order +that, if we should be struck, discipline may be preserved +effectively." + +There was no excitement. Second lieutenants finished the morsels +on which they were engaged, some of them washing down the food +with a final gulp of coffee. Then, without undue haste, they left +the dining-room by twos or threes. + +Adjutant Craig watched them with nods of satisfaction. + +"That was the right way for them to leave," he told Dick. "We +do not want to throw any extra excitement in among the enlisted +men, but we want them to feel that their officers are standing +by, and that, at need, there will be disciplined rescue work." + +Soon after the last of the platoon leaders had vanished the captains +and first lieutenants made their way to the decks above. + +Contrary to German reports that American soldiers are kept mostly +between decks while transports are in the danger zone, the decks +fore and aft were crowded with men of the Ninety-ninth. Those +who stood nearest to the rails felt that they had the best vantage +points from which to see what was going on. It was with eager +interest, not fear, that the soldiers took in all that was visible +of the fleet's progress and the work of the destroyers to protect +the troopships from disaster. + +From northward and slightly ahead of the course of the troopship +of the Ninety-ninth a swift destroyer could be seen darting +over the waves. As she came closer it seemed to the Army beholders +that she traveled with the speed of an express train. + +"Worth watching, and every officer and man visible on her looks +and acts like a piece of the machinery," commented Major Wells, +passing Prescott an extended field glass. "Want to take a look +at her?" + +"Why, I'd know that tall officer on her bridge anywhere in the +world if I had as good a view of him as I have now," uttered Dick +delightedly. + +"Old Darry?" inquired Greg Holmes. + +"No one else. Take a look at him. Next to the last officer on the +port side of the bridge." + +The instant that the glass gave him a sight of the familiar face +Captain Holmes uttered a whoop. + +"Darry himself, and sure enough!" Greg exclaimed. "Wonder what +he's heading in so close for?" + +"He knows what he's doing," Prescott returned. "Don't worry about +that." + +"I don't," Greg retorted cheerfully. With a rounding sweep the +destroyer commanded by Dave Darrin turned out of the way of the +troopship, then came up close, on the same course, scooting by. + +"Good old Darry!" Prescott yelled through a megaphone that Greg +thrust into his unoccupied hand. + +For a wonder Dave heard, just as the destroyer darted in at her +closest point to the transport. + +For just an instant Darrin turned to wave his hand. Then, between +both hands, placed over his mouth, he shouted: + +"Hullo, Dick! 'Lo, Greg!" + +Dave waved his hand, then turned to give an order to his watch +officer. A brief greeting, but it meant a world to the three chums +who had had a part in it. + +"Now, if Danny Grin's craft would only come in that close!" sighed +Greg happily. + +But it didn't. Once in a while Prescott and Holmes could make +out the craft commanded by Dan Dalzell, but it didn't come in +close enough for a hail. + +Bang! sounded a destroyer's gun, far ahead. + +Bang! came as if in answer from the bowgun of the leading transport. + +"There are the Huns, and here is the scrap coming!" yelled a corporal +perched up in the bow of the ship. + +Bang! Bang! + +"Hurrah! Hurrah!" Cheers went up in such volume as to be deafening. + +"Tell the men to stop that cheering," shouted Major Wells, in +order to make Dick and Greg hear him. "And tell them that no +more men are to crowd the rail on either side. No noise, and +nothing to make the ship list!" + +Going down three steps at a time, Dick and Greg descended the +companionway forward of the pilot house. + +"No cheering!" shouted Prescott, pushing his way through the throng. +"Quiet!" + +With Dick moving through the masses of soldiers on the port side +of the deck, and Greg performing a similar office on the starboard +side, quiet was soon restored. Then Captain Prescott's voice +was heard announcing: + +"You men must remain quiet, or how can the ship's officers make +their orders heard? Remember, not a cheer after this. And no +more men are to crowd to the rails." + +"It's a pity that the rest of us cannot see what is going on!" +half-grumbled a soldier, so close that Prescott heard him. + +"I know just how you feel about that," the young captain admitted, +wheeling and regarding the soldier. "But this is war, not sport. +Absolute, uncomplaining discipline is the surest means of bringing +this ship and its human cargo through safely." + +Another captain and Lieutenants Terry and Overton had joined the +first two officers on the deck, and order was maintained without +a flaw. + +Bang! bang! bang! bang! + +"This sounds like a full-fledged naval battle!" Greg Holmes called +to his chum, his eyes dancing. + +"And we cannot see a bit of it!" sighed a soldier complainingly. + +"You're in a position to see as much of it as I'm seeing, my man," +Prescott retorted, with an indulgent smile. "You and I are both +obeying orders instead of pleasing ourselves." + +Bang! bang! + +Watching some of the officers at the rail on the deck above, Captain +Prescott was able to discover that the fight was being brought close +to his own ship. + +Then there came another sign. From up forward the port bow gun +of the troopship turned itself loose with a sharp report. + +"Did you note how that gun's muzzle is depressed?" Greg asked +Dick, in a low voice. + +"I did," Dick answered with a nod. + +Bang! The port gun had been turned loose again. Up on the saloon +deck the officers at the port rail were waving their campaign +hats as though what they saw filled them with liveliest interest. + +"I'd like to be up there!" murmured Greg in his chum's ear. + +"And I'm glad I'm down here," Prescott retorted. "It shows our +men that captains of the regiment are shut out from the view as +much as they are. I'd like to see what is going on, but so would +I like to have all these men who cannot be near the rails see what +is happening." + +Bang! went the starboard bow gun of the transport, her nose pointing +straight ahead. + +"Only one thing is plain to me," Holmes declared. "We're in the +midst of a pack of the sea wolves, and they're doing their best +to hit us with torpedoes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE BEST OF DETAILS + + +Boom! It was a dull sound, off to port. Then even the men who +stood in the middle of the spar deck were able to see the top +of a broad column of water that rose out of the ocean. + +Major Wells so far forgot himself as to give vent to a yell of joy, +then suddenly clapped a restraining hand over his own mouth. + +"Sorry you men couldn't have seen that," the major called, leaning +over the rail above and addressing the men on the spar deck. +"A destroyer let go a depth charge, which exploded under water +and threw up a geyser that would make hot water feel tired." + +"Look at that now, Major," urged Captain Cartwright, pulling at +his superior's sleeve. Major Wells walked to the side rail, looked +out over the water, and had all he could do to keep back another +yell of glee. + +"There's something out there that's worth seeing, men, and it's +visible," the major called down. "A great blot of oil on the +water, and it's spreading. That shows that a submarine was knocked +to flinders by that depth charge!" + +In spite of orders a low, surging cheer started. + +"Shade off on that noise, men!" Dick ordered briskly, holding up +his hand and moving again through the crowd. "Remember that we +cannot have any racket except what the guns make." + +A few more guns were fired, and the racket died down. + +"The show's over!" shouted Major Wells. "Evidently we got out +of that meeting with less damage than the enemy sustained. We +lost no craft, while Fritz has one pirate boat less. Our destroyers +of the escort are now moving along straight courses once more." + +On the saloon deck many of the officers turned and stepped inside. +That set the fashion, for hundreds of enlisted men left their +own decks and went below, either to sleep, read or write letters. + +Then, a minute later, Major Wells once more appeared at the rail +forward, calling down: + +"For the benefit of those who like exact statistics I will say +that the commanding officer has just received a signaled message +to the effect that the navies of two countries got an enemy submarine +apiece. You may omit the cheers!" + +Those who remained on deck saw, a couple of hours later, several +specks off on the water which, they were told, were British and +American patrol boats out to give aid to victims of submarine +sinkings. + +Then night came on, dark, hazy, a bit chilling, so that officers +and men alike were glad enough to seek their berths and get in +under olive drab blankets. + +"The haze and mist will hinder submarines anyway, so the weather +is in our favor," was the word passed around. + +Save for the guard, and those on other active duty, the passengers +on the troopship slept soundly. They might be sunk in the night, +but American fighting men do not always dwell on danger. + +When first call sounded in the morning the men rubbed their eyes, +then realized that the ship was proceeding at very slow speed. + +"Get up, you lubbers!" called a man going down to one of the berth +decks. "Do you realize that the ship is at the entrance of a +French harbor?" + +France? + +Then a cheer went up that no officer could have stopped until +it had spent its first force. + +At last! France! "Over there!" + +Never had men dressed faster. How the soldiers piled up the +companionways! Yet a few bethought themselves to kick their +now discarded life belts with a show of resentment and contempt. + +However, the first glimpses had from the decks were bound to be +disappointing. It was just after daylight. The mist of the night +had thickened instead of vanishing. Here and there patchy bits +of land could be seen through the haze, but for the most part +France was invisible behind a curtain of early winter fog. + +One at a time, under the guidance of local pilots, transports +moved slowly into the harbor, moved slowly some more, then docked. + +Here at last, made fast to a French pier constructed by American +engineer troops! But where were the cheering crowds of French? +Absent, for two reasons. The French had already seen many regiments +of American troops arrive in former months, and the novelty of +such a sight had worn off. Besides, most of the French who lived +in this same port were now just about quitting their own beds. + +"Who'll be first ashore from this regiment?" demanded a laughing +soldier as he witnessed the work of bringing the first gangway +aboard from the pier. + +"The guard!" tersely replied Captain Cartwright, as he appeared +with a sergeant and a detachment from the guard. As soon as the +gangway had been made fast sentries were thrown out, two of them +being stationed at the foot of the gangway itself. + +Then came a call the soldier never ignores. The buglers sounded +the first mess-call of the day. + +After the meal came inspection, after which, a company at a time, +the men were sent over the side to the pier. A short distance +up a street the men were halted, forming in two ranks at the side +of the street. The reasons for all that followed were not clear +to the newer men in the ranks. + +While the men had been eating between decks the officers of the +regiment had gone to their last ship's meal in the dining saloon. +Before the meal was half over the adjutant had entered to call +out: + +"At the conclusion of the meal Major Wells, Captains Prescott +and Holmes and First Lieutenant Terry will report at my office +for instructions from the colonel." + +"That's more interesting than clear," declared Greg, as soon as +he had swallowed the food in his mouth. "I wonder why we four +are wanted? What have we been doing and why are we the goats?" + +"Probably," smiled Dick, "it is something to do with either praise +or promotion---the two things that come most regularly to a soldier, +you know." + +Captain Holmes's curiosity reached such a high point that he would +have bolted his food in order to get more quickly to the adjutant's +office, but he noted that the battalion commander was not hurrying +at all. + +"Confound Wells!" the irrepressible Greg whispered to his chum. +"I believe he knows what it's all about, and he knows that we +cannot report before he's ready to do the same, so he's tormenting +us by taking twice his usual amount of time to finish breakfast!" + +"Keep cool," Dick returned dryly. + +At last Major Wells finished his meal. He waited until he saw that +the other three officers concerned with him in the orders had +done the same. Then he inquired: + +"Are you ready, gentlemen?" + +Rising, Major Wells led the way above. When they entered the +adjutant's office they found Colonel Cleaves standing there, chatting +with a French major and two captains. Colonel Cleaves introduced +his own officers, then added: + +"Gentlemen, it is intended that as many as possible of the officers +of this regiment shall go to the fighting front and spend some time +there studying the actual war conditions. You four have been chosen +for the first detail. Captain Ribaut is going to take you there. +He will act as your guide and your mentor for the length of your +visit to the front trenches." + +Even the steady, unexcitable Major Wells showed his delight very +plainly. To a soldier this was unexpected good luck, to start +immediately, with the surety of finding himself speedily in the +thick of things in the greatest war in the world's history! + +"I have informed Captain Ribaut," Colonel Cleaves continued, "that +you will be ready to leave the ship in an hour." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +OFF TO SEE FRITZ IN HIS WILD STATE + + +By the time that Dick and his brother officers left the ship in +the wake of Captain Ribaut, the infantrymen massed along the nearby +street had been gladdened by the sight of a few score of French +women and children who came to the water front to look on. + +Half of the regiment was now ashore and the rest were going over +the side slowly. + +At the head of the pier Captain Cartwright saluted Major Wells +and Captain Ribaut, and found chance to say to Prescott in a low +tone: + +"You're always one of the lucky ones! How do you manage it?" + +"I don't know that there is any system possible in inviting luck," +Dick smiled. + +"You're going right up to the actual front. You'll see Fritz in +his wild state. I envy you!" + +"Your turn will come, Cartwright." + +"It can't come too soon then. For to-day, and the next few days, +I can't see anything ahead of me but drudgery." + +Ever since that quarrel at Camp Berry, Cartwright had kept mostly +away from Prescott and Holmes. Dick, who knew the captain for +an indolent chap, didn't know whether, in other respects, he liked +him. To most of the officers of the Ninety-ninth Cartwright appeared +to be more unfortunate than worthless. + +"Gentlemen," said Captain Ribaut, when they had passed the head of +the pier, "I think that I can obtain a car if you wish it. What +is your pleasure?" + +"Thank you, but we've been on shipboard for so many days that +we'll enjoy the chance to stretch our legs," replied Major Wells. +"A walk of a few miles would do us a lot of good this morning." + +"It is not that far," replied the French captain, who spoke excellent +English. "The distance is, I should say, about two kilometers." + +As that meant a little more than a mile the party walked off briskly. + +"Why, this doesn't look really like a French town," declared Major +Wells. + +"You Americans have been coming here for so many months that you +have made the city American," explained Captain Ribaut. "See, +even the shops display signs in English, and very few in French. +It is on American money that these shops thrive. Here comes +one of our own poilus, a sight you will not see many times in this +American town on French soil." + +Poilus is a French word meaning "shaggy," and is commonly applied +to the French enlisted man. As this French soldier drew close +he brought up his hand in smart salute to his own officer and +the Americans. Greg turned to look back, but the French soldier +was no longer looking their way. + +Up the street, away from where the Ninety-ninth American sentries +were posted, soldiers of the American military police patrolled. + +"You see how American this city has become," said Captain Ribaut. +"Here French law runs only for citizens of France. Your American +military authorities look after your own men." + +French shopkeepers, speaking a quaint, broken English, came to +their shop doors to greet the Americans, even to urge the newcomers +to enter and buy, but Captain Ribaut waved all such aside with a +simple gesture. + +Further on they passed through a public square. By this time +many French people were about, but Dick noted that they betrayed +no curiosity over the appearance of newly arrived American officers. +The sight had become an old story to these people who, however, +bowed courteously as they passed. + +Down other streets Ribaut led the way, and so they arrived at last +at a railway station. + +"We are about in time," remarked the Frenchman, after glancing +at his wrist watch. "We shall get our seats in the train, and +then we shall not wait long." + +Past French guards and saluting railway employees the little party +went. As the train was already made up the Frenchman led them to +a first-class coach, a train guard throwing open the door. They +entered and seated themselves. + +"You will see that none others are shown into this compartment," +said Captain Ribaut to the guard in French. The door was closed. + +"After we leave the station there will be something to see," explained +their guide. "Yet France is not very attractive in such weather. +Up at the front, though, there is nothing at all of France left. +There is nothing but bare ground, full of shell-holes. The whole +face of nature has been denuded and blackened by the atrocious enemy." + +When the train had been under way a couple of minutes Captain +Ribaut leaned forward. + +"Look over there," he said, "and you will see where your regiment +will he housed for the next two or three days. After that the +regiment will entrain and will go to one of the regular training +camps, where you will find it on your return from the front." + +His American hearers looked out on a large village of unpainted pine +barracks buildings. + +"That is a rest camp for troops when first they come from the +transport," explained Captain Ribaut. "Even the barracks are +American, built in sections in your country, then shipped over +here and set up. The village you are passing will shelter two +regiments of American infantry." + +Before long the Americans found themselves much more interested +in the French officer's conversation than in the glimpses of his +country that were obtainable. Captain Ribaut had served from +the beginning of the war and was familiar with every trick of +fighting practiced at the front. He had a wealth of information +to give them---so much, in fact, that before long Dick Prescott +began to jot down information in a notebook. + +Toward the end of the forenoon a soldier came aboard at one station +with an outfit of dishes on two long trays. He was followed by +two others bearing food and coffee. These were set out and the +soldiers departed, the travelers falling to with a relish. At +a station beyond, the dishes were removed by other soldiers. +Then the train rolled slowly on its way. + +"There is much in our travel facilities that I shall have to beg +you to excuse," said Captain Ribaut rather wistfully. "France +is not what it was, not even in the matter of its railways." + +"France is not what she was," retorted Major Wells quickly, "because, +glorious as she, was, she has gone up infinitely higher in the +human scale. Could any other country in the world have stood +the ravages of war so long and still live and contain so brave +and resolute a people? Never mind your railways, Captain. It +is the people, not the railways, who make a country. Your French +people compel our constant and most willing admiration." + +At another railway station, as the train halted, and the guard +opened the door briefly, a low, sullen rumbling could be heard. + +"Do you have thunderstorms at this time of the year, Captain?" +asked Lieutenant Terry. + +"Ah, but yes," replied the Frenchman. "It is a German thunderstorm +that you hear in the distance---artillery." + +"I feel like a fool!" exclaimed Noll Terry flushing. "Of course +I should have recognized the sound of distant cannon-fire." + +"Don't feel badly about it, Mr. Terry," said Major Wells. "In +all your career in the American Army you have never heard as much +cannon-fire as you can hear in a single hour on the battle-front +in France." + +At the next station the rumbling was much louder. French soldiers +were becoming more numerous. At times an entire French regiment +could be seen marching along a road. + +"At the next station," announced Captain Ribaut, "we shall find +ourselves at the end of our rail journey. We are nearing the +front. If you are interested, gentlemen, there goes one of our +French airplane squadrons on its way to the front." + +Instantly all four Americans were craning their necks at the windows. +High in the air, the French aircraft in flight looked as graceful +as swallows on the wing. + +"They are battleplanes," explained Captain Ribaut further. "Some +of the Hun flyers are almost sure of a tumble this afternoon." + +When the American party alighted at the last station on the line, +and looked back, they beheld long trains of freight cars coming +slowly along. The train from which they had descended was hauled +out and quickly shunted out of the way on a siding. The freight +trains pulled in, going to various sidings before huge warehouses +in which the food and fighting supplies were stored until wanted +closer to the front. It was a scene of deafening noise and what +looked like indescribable confusion. Yet everything moved according +to a plan. + +"Let us come where we can hear our own voices!" shouted Captain +Ribaut in the major's ear, and led the way. Behind the station +they found a limousine car awaiting them. As there were seats +for five inside, the travelers soon found themselves vastly more +comfortable than they had been on the train. + +"We will drive slowly," said Captain Ribaut, after he had given +his orders to a soldier chauffeur, "for one does not usually go +into the trenches until after dark. There will be plenty to see +on the way, and enough to talk about." + +At one point Captain Ribaut directed the soldier-driver to turn +the machine into a field. Here the Americans alighted to see +seemingly endless streams of French "camions" go by. These are +heavy motor trucks that carry supplies to the front. + +"And here come some vehicles from the front that tell their own +story," spoke Captain Ribaut rather sadly. + +In another moment the first of a string of at least half a hundred +small cars went by at rapid speed toward the rear. Each car bore +the device of the Red Cross. + +"There has been disagreeable work, and our wounded are going back," +explained Captain Ribaut. "But my friends," he cried suddenly, +"I congratulate you on what you are privileged to see. These +are not our French ambulances, but some of your own cars, given +to France, and young men from America are driving them." + +That these were American ambulance sections in French service +there could be no doubt, for as the drivers caught sight of the +American uniforms they offered informal salutes in high glee. +It was reserved for one gleeful young American, however, to call +out, as his ambulance whizzed by: + +"Hullo, buddies! Welcome to our city!" + +"If that young man were in the American Army I would feel obliged +to try to have him stopped," said Major Wells good-humoredly. +"That was not the real American form of salutation to officers, +but I know the youngster felt genuinely glad to see us so close +to the front." + +"They are a happy lot, perhaps sometimes a trifle too merry," +said Captain Ribaut half-apologetically. "But they are splendid, +these young Americans of yours who drive ambulances for us. They +never know the meaning of fear, and after a great battle they +are devotion itself to duty. They will drive as long as they +can sit and hold the wheel. There would have been many more aching +hearts in France to-day had it not been for the fine young Americans +who came over here with American cars to help us look after our +wounded!" + +Presently the party entered the car again. Every mile that they +covered took them closer to the Inferno of shell-fire. More ambulance +cars whizzed by. + +Then the visitors' car drew up before an unpretentious looking house +just off the main road. + +"If you will come inside," invited Captain Ribaut, "I know that +our general of division will be delighted to meet you." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE THRILL OF THE FIRE TRENCH + + +Passing the two sentries at the front door the officers found +themselves in a small ante-room. + +Excusing himself, Captain Ribaut left the Americans briefly, but +was speedily back. + +"General Bazain is most eager to meet you, and has the leisure +at this moment," the Frenchman announced. + +He led his guests through the adjoining room, where half a dozen +younger French officers rose hastily, standing at salute. Then +on into a third room, just over the sill of which Captain Ribaut +halted, bringing his heels quickly together as he called out: + +"General Bazain, I have the honor to present to you four American +officers, Major-----" + +And so on, through the list of names. The French divisional commander +bowed courteously four separate times, taking each American officer +by the hand with both his own, and finding something wholly courteous +to say. He spoke in French, a tongue that only Major Wells and +Captain Prescott understood well. + +"My division is greatly honored, _Messieurs les Officers_," General +Bazain continued when he had seen to the seating of his callers +and had resumed his own chair behind a desk on which were spread +many maps and documents. + +"You have been having a smart fight this afternoon, sir?" inquired +Major Wells. + +"Ah, yes, for some reason, the Huns have been trying to break +through my division this afternoon, but they have not yet succeeded, +nor will they," General Bazain added, his eyes flashing grimly. + +He was a little man, short and thin, his hair well sprinkled with +gray. He looked like one whom more than three years of war had +borne down with cares, yet his eyes were bright and his shoulders +squared splendidly whenever he stood. + +"Here is a map of the divisional front, gentlemen, if you care +to draw your chairs closer and look it over," proposed the general. +"This shows not only our lines, but as much as we know of the +enemy lines facing us. And I believe," he added, with another +flash of pride, "that we know all there is to know of their lines +for a kilometer back, except whatever may have been added since +dark yesterday. We-----" + +He was interrupted by an explosion that shook the house. It sounded +over their heads on the floor above. + +"We have excellent air service at this point," General Bazain +went on, his attention not wavering from the map. "And at this +point, as you will see, we have five lines of trenches, one behind +another, instead of three. It would take the Hun an uncommonly +long time to drive my brave fellows back out of our five lines +of trenches." + +There followed a rapid description of the work of the division +on that sector during the last four months. The two present first +lines of trench had been taken from the Germans. Plans were now +under way to stage a series of assaults which, it was hoped, would +drive the Huns out of their three present first lines of trench +and add them to the French system. + +An officer wearing the emblem of the French medical service opened +the door and glanced in. + +"My general, you were not hurt by that bomb?" he cried anxiously. + +"I had forgotten it," replied the French divisional commander. +"What was it?" + +"A Hun airman dropped a bomb on the roof. It blew a hole in the +roof and worked some damage in your bedroom overhead." + +"It does not matter," said General Bazain simply. + +Bang! bang! smashed overhead. + +"It must be the same rascal, returning in his flight!" cried the +medical officer, darting out into the yard to look up at the sky. +A moment later anti-aircraft guns began to bark. Two minutes +after the medical officer again looked into the room. + +"We are fortunate to-day, my general!" cried the doctor. "That +scoundrel will not bother you again. One of our shots wrecked +his plane and brought the Hun down---dead." + +Evidently, however, that airman of the enemy had given the location +and range of division headquarters, for now a shell from a German +battery struck and exploded in the yard outside, killing a sentry +and wounding two orderlies. A second and a third shell followed. +A fourth shell tore away the corner of the house without injuring +any one. + +"Your orders, my general, in case our observers can locate the +Hun battery?" asked a staff officer, coming in from the next room +and resting a hand on a telephone instrument. + +"If the enemy battery can be located," replied General Bazain, +"let it be destroyed." + +Rapidly the staff officer sent his message to the artillery post +of command. + +"But surely you will go to a shelter?" asked the staff officer, +laying down the instrument when he had finished. + +"It will be inconvenient," sighed the division commander. "The +light here is much better." + +Yet General Bazain permitted himself to be persuaded to remove +from this now highly dangerous spot. As he and his staff, accompanied +by the visitors, stepped outside another shell exploded close at +hand, fortunately without doing harm. + +Descending to the cellar of a wrecked house near by, in the wake +of their hosts, the Americans found the entrance to steps, cut +in the earth, leading to a secure shelter on a level much below +that of the cellar. Here were two rooms underground, both equipped +with desks, lights, chairs, telephones and all that was needed +for communicating with the ranking officers of the division at +their posts in the trenches. + +"It is stupid to have to work under candlelight in the daytime," +sighed the division commander. "However, Major Wells, as I was +explaining to you-----" + +Here recourse was again had to the maps, which the officers of +the staff had brought along. + +Before dark supper was served at division headquarters in this +dug-out reached through the cellar of a ruined house. + +"If it were not that I expect an attack tonight, and must be at +my post, it would give me delight to go with you and show you +our trenches," said the division commander at parting. + +Private Berger had been summoned to lead the party through the +intricate system of communication trenches to the front. Berger, +who was a short, squat fellow with a sallow face and uneasy black +eyes, took his seat beside the soldier chauffeur. + +For only a little more than a mile the Americans proceeded in +the car, which then halted, and all hands stepped out into the +dark night. + +"From here on we must walk," announced Captain Ribaut. "Berger, +be sure that you take us by the most direct route. Do not take +us into the Hun trenches to-night." + +"I know the way excellently, my captain," Berger replied briefly. + +For some distance they walked over open country, made dangerous, +however, by the presence of gaping shell-holes. Runners, soldiers +and others passed them going to or from the trenches. The artillery +duel, save for an occasional stray shot, had ceased on both sides. + +"The road is steeper here," said Berger, halting after he had led +his party half a mile through the darkness. "We now go up hill." + +It was harder climbing, going up that incline. A quarter of a +mile of this, and Lieutenant Terry suddenly found himself following +the guide through a cut in between two walls of dirt higher than +his head. + +"We are in the communication trenches," said Berger in French. Noll +gathered the meaning of the remark. + +At every few yards there was a twist or a turn in the trench. +At times they came to points where two trenches crossed each +other. Had it been left to the Americans to find their own way +they would have been hopelessly confused in this network and maze +of intersecting ditches. Berger, however, proceeded with the +certainty of one long familiar with the locality. + +"Here is one of our defence trenches," said Captain Ribaut, halting +at last and calling softly to Berger to stop. "This is our fifth +line trench, formerly our third line. We have no men here, you +will note, nor in the next line. In case of a heavy general attack +men would be rushed up from the rear to occupy these two lines +of trenches. We will proceed, Berger." + +They were soon at the fourth line trench. At the third line trench +they found sentries of the reserves on duty. + +"The rest of the reserves are sleeping," Ribaut explained. "You +will see their dug-out entrances as we pass along this trench, +for I am taking you to the quarters of the battalion commander." + +It was necessary to proceed along this third line trench for nearly +a quarter of a mile before they came to a dug-out entrance before +which a sentry and two runners crouched on the ground. + +"Captain Ribaut and American officers present their compliments, +and would see Major Ferrus," explained Ribaut. + +A runner entered the underground shelter, speedily returning and +signing to the visitors to descend the steps. Dick and his friends +found themselves in an underground room of about eight by twelve. +Around the walls were several bunks. At a table, which held +a telephone instrument, sat Major Ferrus and two junior officers. + +"It is quiet here, after the Hun assault of this afternoon," explained +the French major when the Americans had been presented. "Captain +Ribaut, you are taking our American comrades to the front line?" + +"That is my instruction, Major." + +"It is well, and I think you will find it quiet enough to-night +for a study of the Hun line. Still one can never say." + +A brief conversation, and the visitors returned to the outer air, +where Private Berger awaited them. At the second line trench, +which held the supporting troops for the first line, Ribaut took +them to the captain of French infantry in command at that point. + +"I will send Lieutenant De Verne with you," said the captain, +and passed the word for that officer. + +"Show our American comrades everything that can possibly interest +them," was the captain's order. + +"I shall do my best, my captain," replied the lieutenant. "But +I do not know. The Huns are as quiet, to-night, as though they +had tired themselves to death this afternoon." + +Turning to Private Berger, Lieutenant De Verne added: + +"You may find your way into one of the dugouts if you like, as you +will hardly be needed for hours." + +"But my orders, my lieutenant, were to remain with the American +party," protested Private Berger mildly. + +"Oh, very well, then," replied De Verne carelessly. + +This time, instead of leading the way, Private Berger brought +up the rear. + +"You will do well to talk in low tones," the French lieutenant +cautioned them in whispers, "for, when we enter the front line +trench we shall be only about a quarter of a kilometer from the +Huns' first line trench." + +With that they started forward. A short stroll through a communication +trench brought them to the first line ditch. As the ground was +wet here duck-boards had been laid to walk on. The parapet was +piled high with bags of sand through which loop-holes had been +cunningly contrived for the French sentries who must watch through +the night for signs of Hun activity. Over the rear wall of the +trench was another built-up wall of sand-bags. This parados, +as it was called, is intended to give protection against shrapnel, +which often burst just after passing over a trench. Thus the +parados prevents a back-fire of the bullets carried in the shrapnel +shell, which otherwise might strike the trench's defenders. + +"You may stand up here on the fire platform, if you wish," whispered +Lieutenant De Verne to Dick in English. "If you do not think +it too foolish to expose yourself, you will be able to look over +the top of the parapet. First of all you will see our lines of +barbed wire fencing and entanglements. Beyond the wire you will +see open ground, much torn by shell-holes. Further still you +will see the wire defenses of the German first trench, and then +the parapet that screens the enemy from your gaze." + +Hardly had the French lieutenant finished when Dick was up and +peering with all his might and curiosity. Hardly an instant later +the bark of a field-gun was heard to the northward. A whining +thing whizzed through the air. + +Then, into the trench in which the party stood something thudded, +with, at the same instant, a sharp report, a bright flash, and the +air was full of flying metal! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +OUT IN NO MAN'S LAND + + +If there was a disgusted person present it was Captain Greg Holmes. +That angry young man spat out a mouthful of dirt, and then tried to +rid himself of more. + +Major Wells felt more like standing on his head. A fragment of +shell had torn away the top of his tunic in back, without scratching +his skin, and at the same time had thrown a shower of sand down +inside his O.D. woolen shirt. Terry had been knocked over by +the concussion, but had sustained no wound and was quickly on +his feet, unhurt. + +As for Prescott, he had turned, for an astounded second, then, +much disturbed over what he believed to have been his fault, he +had stepped down from the fire step. + +Captain Ribaut and Lieutenant De Verne, neither of whom had been +touched, looked on and smiled. + +As Prescott stepped down to the duck-boards he saw Private Berger +come back into the trench from the adjoining traverse, the latter +a jog in the trench line intended to prevent the enemy from raking +any great length of trench during an attack. + +"I hadn't an idea that just raising my head over the parapet would +bring cannon fire so promptly," Dick murmured to Ribaut. + +"Nor did that act of yours bring cannon fire," rejoined Captain +Ribaut. + +"Then what did?" + +"It must have been that it just happened," replied the Frenchman. + +Private Berger stood leaning with his right hand on top of the +sand-bag parapet. + +"Shall I get back on the fire step for another look?" Dick inquired. + +"Why not?" inquired Captain Ribaut, shrugging his shoulders. +"Why not, indeed, if there is anything you wish to see?" + +Waiting for no more Dick again mounted to the fire step, raising +his head over the top, this time with greater caution. + +"There it is again!" he cried, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, +his words causing his friends astonishment. + +A moment later there came another sharp report, followed by the +same whining sound. This time a shell struck just behind the +parados. There was an avalanche of shell fragments, but none +flew into the trench, the parados preventing. + +"Captain Ribaut, a word with you," Dick urged, stepping down and +laying a hand on the French officer's arm. They stepped further +along the trench. + +"Captain," Prescott whispered earnestly, "I do not want to arouse +any unfair suspicions, but I have something to tell you. When +I first looked over the parapet I noticed on the ground in front +three small but distinct glows. Then came the report and the +shell. Private Berger had stepped into the traverse at his right. +Immediately after the shell burst he came back into this trench. +When I looked over the top a second time I saw the same three +tiny glows of light on the ground ahead. Then came the second +shell. Each time, before the shell was started this way Berger +stood with his right hand resting above his head on the parapet. +Each time he stepped down and into the traverse. Each time, +after the shell burst, he stepped back into this trench. I may +be wrong to feel any suspicions, but is it possible-----" + +"Wait!" interposed Captain Ribaut quickly, and stepped into the +traverse at the left. He came back with two French soldiers. +These started down the trench, pouncing upon Private Berger. +With them was Captain Ribaut. + +"Oh, you scoundrel, Berger!" suddenly hissed the French captain. +He hurled the fellow to the ground, then held up a slim object, +some six inches in length. + +"See!" he muttered to the others. "It is a tiny electric light, +supplied by a very small special battery. The scoundrel, Berger, +had it concealed up his right sleeve. Twice he rested his right +hand on the parapet. He flashed the lamp thrice each time, for +Captain Prescott saw it. Then the scoundrel stepped into the +traverse, where he would be safe from the shell he had invoked +from the enemy. We have known that there was a spy or a traitor +in this regiment, but we were unable to identify him. Gentlemen, +step into the traverses on either side and I will test my belief." + +After the others had filed into the traverses Captain Ribaut rested +his right hand on the parapet, causing the little pencil of electric +light to glow three times in quick succession. Then he sprang +back into the nearer traverse. + +Bang! A shell landed in the vacated length of trench, tearing +up the duck-boards and gouging the walls of the trench. + +"Go for your corporal and tell him to send two men to take this +spy to the rear," Ribaut ordered one of the soldiers who stood +guarding Berger. "Captain Prescott, this regiment owes you a +debt that it will never be able to repay. Berger, your hours +of life will be short, but the story of your infamy will be +everlasting!" + +"And, Corporal," ordered Lieutenant De Verne, after Berger had +been started rearward under guard, "see to it that only the most +necessary sentries are posted along here for tonight. Keep the +rest of your men in shelters, for the Huns may feel disposed to +continue shelling this part of the line." + +"Come, my American comrades," urged Captain Ribaut, "there is +much more to be seen at other points along this line." + +Until within an hour of daylight the French captain and lieutenant +and their American pupils continued along the first line trench. +Save for occasional shell fire it proved to be a rather quiet +night. Leaving the front a sufficient time before dawn Major +Wells and his subordinates went back to the fifth line trench. +After breakfasting, they retired to bunks that had been bedded +in advance of their coming, and slept until late in the afternoon. + +"There is one thing I like about the French trenches," declared +Greg Holmes, with enthusiasm, as soldiers entered with the beginnings +of a meal. + +"And what is that?" inquired Captain Ribaut eagerly. + +"The smell of the coffee when it comes in," grinned Greg. + +"To-day's sleep, and the meals, I have found to be of the best," +said Captain Dick quietly, as he sat down to eat. "I am still +more interested in the hope that to-night in the fire trenches +will be more exciting than last night." + +"Perhaps it will be," suggested Captain Ribaut, "for I have received +word that patrols will be sent out into No Man's Land to-night, +and it has been suggested to me that one American officer should +go with the patrol. Which one of you shall it be?" + +"I know that Captain Prescott wants to go," said Major Wells, +as he noted Dick's start of pleasure. "Therefore, Captain Ribaut, +suppose you send him with the patrol." + +"Thank you, sir," came Dick's quick assent. "Nothing could please +me more. It will make to-night a time surely worth while to me." + +Before the meal had been finished the German artillerymen began +the late afternoon "strafing," as a bombardment is called. + +When the shell-fire had ceased Ribaut led his guests down to the +front or fire trench. Lieutenant De Verne had not been with them +since breakfast time in the morning. + +"May I relieve one of your sentries, Captain, and take his post +until there is something else for me to do?" Dick asked. + +"Yes, certainly," agreed Ribaut. "I will send for the corporal, +who will instruct you as the other sentries are instructed." + +So Dick took the bayoneted rifle of a soldier who was much delighted +at having a brief opportunity for sleep thus thrust upon him. +Dick listened to the corporal's orders, then, for the next two +hours stood gazing patiently out over No Man's Land. At the end +of that time the sentries were changed and Dick stood down gladly +enough, for his task had become somewhat dull and irksome. + +Half an hour after being relieved Prescott heard a sentry challenging +in low tones. Then Lieutenant De Verne came into the fire trench +with a sergeant and six men. + +"This is the patrol," announced the younger Frenchman. "All my +men for to-night are veterans at the game. Captain Prescott, do you +wish to try your hand as a bomber tonight?" + +"I am more expert, Lieutenant, with an automatic pistol." + +"Very good, then; you may stick to that weapon," agreed the lieutenant. +"The sergeant and three men will carry their rifles; the other +three men will serve as bombers. You observe that our faces and +hands are blackened, as white faces betray one in No Man's Land. +We will now help you to black up." + +There followed some quick instructions, to all of which Dick listened +attentively, for to him it was a new game. + +"We have little gates cut through our own barbed wire," De Verne +whispered in explanation. "Do not be in a hurry, Captain, when +you leave the trench. Especially, take pains that you do not +catch your clothing on any of the barbed wire as we crawl through." + +A few more whispered directions. While listening Dick studied +the faces of the waiting French soldiers, their bearing and their +equipment. Only the sergeant remained standing; the privates +disposed of themselves on the fire step for a seat. Two of them +even dozed, so far were they from any feeling of excitement. + +"Ready, now, Sergeant," nodded the lieutenant. + +"We are ready, Lieutenant," reported the sergeant. + +"Proceed." + +First of all the sergeant went up over the top of the trench, +crawling noiselessly to the ground beyond. After him, one at a +time, went the French soldiers. + +"You next, Captain, if you please," urged Lieutenant De Verne. +"And do not forget that any betraying sound causes the night to be +lighted with German flares and that the Huns are always ready to +turn their machine guns loose." + +Dick's hands were instantly on the rungs of the ladder. Up he +went, cat-like. By the time that he had crawled over the parapet +and had reached the first fence of tangled barbed wire be found +a French soldier, prostrate on the ground, waiting, and holding +open a gate that had been ingeniously cut through the mantrap. +Then the soldier crawled on to the next line of wire defence, +repeating the service, as also at a third line. + +The last wire had now been passed. Still lying nearly flat, Captain +Prescott raised his head, staring ahead into the nearly complete +blackness of the night. He was in No Man's Land! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE TRIP THROUGH A GERMAN TRENCH + + +It was the sergeant who led the way. He and his detail moved, +except at special times, in a fan-shaped formation with the +noncommissioned officer ahead, three men on either side of him +formed lines obliquely back. + +In the center, within these oblique flanks were the French lieutenant +and Captain Prescott. + +It was a compact formation, useful in keeping all hands together +and in instant touch, yet likely to prove highly dangerous should +the enemy open on them with rifle or machine-gun fire. + +In the center of No Man's Land was a wide, deep shell crater, +caused by the explosion at that point of one of the largest shells +used by the Germans. + +Crawling down between friendly and hostile lines, the sergeant +made for this shell-hole. When still several feet away he held +up a hand, whereupon Lieutenant De Verne gripped Prescott's leg. +Leaving the others behind the noncommissioned officer moved silently +forward. It was his task to make sure that an enemy party had +not been first to reach the crater. + +Only eyes trained to see in that darkness could make out the fact +that the sergeant had held up a hand once more. This was the +signal to advance. Now, as the men moved forward, the formation +was not kept. Each for himself reached the crater in his own +way and time. Down in this basin men could crouch without fear +of being seen should the night become lighted up. + +When the others had entered, Prescott, being further from the +rim, signed to the French lieutenant to precede him. De Verne +had just gained the hole when---Click! Not far away something +was shot up into the air; then it broke, throwing down a beam +of light. Other clicks could be heard, until the land within +two hundred feet of the crater became at least half as bright +as daylight would have made it. + +Dick Prescott was outside the crater! At the instant of hearing +the first click he found himself in a shallow furrow in the dirt. +To have sprung into the crater would have been to betray the +presence of the party to the enemy. While German machine-gun +fire could not reach the French men below him Dick knew that a +shell could reach them readily enough. + +So he flattened himself in the furrow, his heart beating faster +than usual. There followed moments of tight suspense. Would +this flattened figure be espied by any enemy observer? + +Even when the flares died down Dick did not move. He knew that +more flares might be sent up instantly. + +A quarter of a mile down the line he could hear a machine gun +rouse itself into sudden fury, though none of the missiles came +his way. + +"I've a chance yet," Dick thought grimly. Yet when blackness +came down over the scene again he did not move. No matter what +happened to himself he did not intend that harm should come to +his French comrades through any act of his. + +As Dick still lay there a pebble touched the dirt lightly just +before his face. Raising his head a couple of inches he saw a +hand, dimly outlined at the edge of the crater, beckoning. + +"That means that I'm to go ahead," Dick told himself. "I'll follow +instructions." + +He took considerable time about it, moving an inch or two at a +time. This, however, soon brought him to the edge of the basin-like +depression. In going down the inside he moved a bit more rapidly, +but did not rise until he found himself among the others. Then +he rose to his knees in the middle of the group. + +"You are wonderful!" whispered the French lieutenant, placing +his lips at Prescott's ear. "You Americans must have learned +your stealth from your own Indians. We are clumsy when we try +to equal you in moving without noise." + +One of the soldiers had taken station at the edge of the crater +nearest the German line. Here, with helmet off, and showing not +a fraction of an inch more of his head above ground than was necessary, +this sentry watched in the dark. + +Again De Verne's lips sought Dick's ear as he whispered: + +"What we would like most to do is to find out what is going on +in the Hun trenches. Next to that, the thing we like best is +to ambush a German patrol, capture or kill the men, and get back +with our prisoners." + +"French patrols must often be captured, also," Dick whispered +cautiously. + +"But yes!" replied the French lieutenant, with a shrug of his +shoulders. "It is a game of give-and-take, and all the luck cannot +be ours." + +Still nearer the enemy's wire defenses lay a smaller shell-hole. +By creeping up beside the sentry Prescott was able to see it. +He remained where he was while a soldier of the French party, +holding a bomb in his right hand, crept out of the crater, moving +noiselessly ahead. + +Arrived at the edge of the smaller shell-hole the soldier sent +back a hand signal, then crept down into concealment. + +Up out of the crater started the sergeant without delay. As he +passed Prescott the noncommissioned officer gripped him, pointing +backward. There knelt De Verne, signaling to the American to +accompany the sergeant. Side by side the pair made the smaller +shell-hole, which proved of just sufficient size to screen three +men. + +For three or four minutes the trio crouched here, listening intently, +though no sounds came from the nearby German trench. + +After waiting, as he thought, long enough, the French sergeant +made an expressive gesture or two before the face of the soldier +with him, who, after examining his bombs, crept out and forward, +toward the barbed wire defenses of the enemy. + +Short though the distance was, the man was gone more than five +minutes. Prescott, who at first could see the soldier as he moved, +was not so sure of it later. It was strange how that sky-blue +uniform of the poilu merged into the dark shades of the night. + +At last the soldier came back, reporting to his sergeant, though +using only the language of hand signs. + +With a nudge for Prescott the sergeant crept out of the hole, +Dick following. There was no thought of haste, yet at last they +reached the first of the wire obstructions. Now Dick was able +to guess the meaning of the soldier's recent hand signs. He had +discovered that the Huns had left narrow passages through their +own wires, presumably for the use of German patrols. + +This time it was the sergeant who went forward first. Dick thrilled +with admiration when he saw the French non-com pass the last of +the barbed wire and creep up to the top of the German parapet, +flattening himself and peering over and down. + +Following closely Dick and the French soldier at his side saw +the sergeant kick up slightly with one foot, a signal that caused +the soldier to move to the top of the parapet; Prescott, therefore +did the same thing. + +It was his first look down into a German trench! Not that there +was much to be seen. On the contrary there was nothing to be +seen save the trench itself. Dick had heard that often the German +first-line trenches are deserted during parts of quiet nights +on the front. + +A slight sense of motion caused Prescott to look around. He was +in time to see the French private wriggling backward. The sergeant +withdrew his head to a point below the outer edge of the parapet, +seeing which the American captain followed suit. + +Minutes passed before the departed soldier returned with Lieutenant +De Verne and the remainder of the patrol. Only a glance did the +French lieutenant take down into the trench. Next he quietly +let himself down into the enemy ditch, followed by the others. + +Moving softly the patrol examined that length of trench, also +the traverses at either end. Still no German had been encountered. + +"We will go further," announced Lieutenant De Verne. "Sergeant, +you will take three men and go west until you come in contact +with the enemy. Then return with your report. The rest of us +will go east." + +Carrying a bomb in his right hand, a pistol in his left the young +French officer led the way. Just behind him was one of his own +infantrymen, Prescott coming third and carrying his automatic +pistol ready for instant use. + +Counting the number of trench sections and traverses through which +they passed Dick estimated that they moved east fully two hundred +yards. In all that distance they did not encounter a German soldier. + +"The Huns who sent up the flares," De Verne paused to whisper +to Dick, "must have been the last of the enemy in these trenches. +It made them appear to be on guard, and vigilantly so, and right +after sending up the flares they withdrew to lines at the rear. +It is, I suspect, an old trick of theirs when they wish to leave +the front to rest or feed. I shall so report it." + +At last the lieutenant halted his men. He had penetrated as far +as he deemed necessary. + +"We will go back and pick up the sergeant," he said. "But first +I shall send a man down one of the communication trenches to learn +if the enemy are numerous in the second-line trenches." + +"How long will that take?" Dick whispered. + +"At least ten minutes." + +"Then may I try to penetrate a little further east along this line?" + +"Why not?" + +"I will try to be back soon," Dick promised. Even in the darkness +these Allied officers exchanged salutes smartly. Then, gripping +his automatic tightly, and realizing that he was now "on his +own," as the British Tommies put it, he disappeared into the nearest +traverse. + +Prescott did not hurry. He had nothing to expect from his own little +prowl, and his purpose in going alone had been to develop his +knowledge of this new kind of soldier's work. + +Sixty or seventy yards Dick had progressed when, in a traverse, +he thought he heard low voices ahead. + +"The enemy, if any one!" he thought, with a start, halting quickly. +Straining his ears, he listened. Undoubtedly there were voices +somewhere ahead, though he could distinguish no word that was +spoken. + +"As I haven't seen an enemy yet, I'm going to do so if I can," the +young captain instantly resolved. + +Stepping to the end of the traverse, he peered around the jog. +That next length of trench appeared to be deserted, yet certainly +the voices sounded nearer. + +"I've got to have that look!" Dick told himself, exulting in the +chance. + +Softly he strode forward, then halted all in a flash. And no +wonder! For he found himself standing close to the entrance to +a frontline dug-out that sloped down into the earth. And the +voices came from this dug-out. + +Inside, as Dick peered down, he made out two figures. Yet he +pinched himself with his unoccupied hand, so certain did it seem +that he must be dreaming. + +Of the pair below, while the older man wore the uniform of a German +colonel of infantry, the younger man wore the garb of a French +sub-lieutenant of the same arm. What could this infernal mystery +mean? + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +DICK PRESCOTT'S PRIZE CATCH + + +It was the older man, he of the German uniform who now spoke. + +"So Berger was really caught in the act of signaling us?" + +"Yes, excellenz (Your excellency)," replied the younger man. + +"And he is to be shot for treason?" + +"It is so, Excellenz!" + +The language used by both was German, but Dick followed every +word easily. + +"Too bad! And our commander will regret the loss of Berger much," +sighed the German colonel, "for Berger has served us long and +usefully. Strange that he should be caught, when he has so long +and safely used that electric light pencil of his. I suppose +Berger grew careless." + +"It was an American officer who caught him at it and denounced +him," said the younger man. + +"Ah, well! At least we have you still in that regiment, and you +are more cautious. You will not be caught." + +"Not alive, at any rate, Excellenz," the younger man assured the +enemy colonel. + +"Wrong, there!" spoke a low, firm voice. + +Both men started violently, with good excuse, for before them +stood Captain Dick Prescott, a cocked automatic pistol held out +to cover both. + +"You will both put your hands up!" Dick ordered them sharply, +in German. "You will be shot at the first sign of resistance, +or even reluctance. This trench is no longer German!" + +Dully both men raised their hands. Quietly as Prescott spoke +there was that in his tone, as in his eye, which assured them +that their lives would not outlast their obedience. + +"You will pass up before me," Dick continued, "and neither will +attempt any treachery. I assure you, gentlemen, that I shall +be glad of the slightest excuse for killing you!" + +It was the German colonel who came first, for he was the nearer +one. There was no visible sign of his being armed, but the younger +man in the sky-blue uniform carried an automatic in a holster +at his belt. Dick deftly took the pistol from the holster and +was now doubly armed. + +"Not the lightest outcry, nor the least attempt at treachery!" +Dick warned them sternly. "Face west! March!" + +Though both prisoners obeyed promptly Captain Prescott was not +simple enough to imagine that they had no plan or hope of rescue +or escape. In making this double arrest Dick had realized fully +that he was probably throwing his life away, yet he had deemed +possible success worth all the risk. + +After going thirty or forty yards the older prisoner halted squarely. + +"Proceed!" Dick ordered in a stern whisper, aiming one of the +pistols at the defiant one's breast. + +"I do not care about being killed needlessly; neither do you," +said the colonel. "I can save my life, and give you some chance +for yours by informing you that, at the moment you appeared in +the dug-out, I pressed one foot against a signal apparatus that +calls our men back to these trenches. Just now I heard them entering +a trench section ahead. Others have entered behind us. Your +chance, your only one, will be to climb over this parapet and +do your best to reach the French lines. If you decide to do that, +I give you my word that I will not allow our men to fire upon +you as you withdraw." + +"A German's word!" mocked Dick. "Who would accept that?" + +"It is your last chance for life." + +"And you are throwing away your last chance, both of you!" Dick +uttered in a low voice. "Each of you is within a second of death. +March!" + +With an exclamation that sounded like an oath the German colonel +obeyed, followed by the younger man and Prescott. Neither of +the prisoners had dared risk lowering his hands. + +"You are foolish---life-tired!" warned the colonel, in a hoarse +whisper. + +"If you speak again I'll kill you instantly," Prescott snapped +back. + +After that the prisoners proceeded in moody silence, until, at +last, they rounded out a traverse and ran into several soldiers. +But these soldiers wore the French uniform. In a word, they +were Lieutenant De Verne's party. + +"Prisoners!" cried De Verne, in a hoarse whisper. "Captain Prescott, +you are indeed wonderful! But no, you bring only one prisoner, +this German, for the other is Lieutenant Noyez. Noyez, my dear +fellow, how do you happen to have your hands up?" + +"Because of the idiocy of this American," hissed Noyez. + +"Lieutenant De Verne, from the conversation that I overheard I +learned that Noyez is a spy, and that he was reporting to his +chief, this enemy colonel," Dick stated. "Now that I have brought +them to you, both are naturally in your hands." + +"It is a stupid lie that you, De Verne, must set straight," Noyez +insisted angrily. + +"Since Captain Prescott has made the charge, it must stand, of +course, until you have been taken before competent authority," +De Verne said coldly. "Pirot! Grugny! I turn Lieutenant Noyez +over into your charge. You will give him no chance to get out +of your hands. And now, we must find our way home." + +Two men were sent up over the parapet, then the prisoners were +ordered up and held there at the muzzles of rifles. The rest +of the patrol followed. + +"We will make fast time back," ordered Lieutenant De Verne, "as +we know there are no enemy hereabouts in the first-line trenches." + +Crossing rapidly, though softly, the patrol was challenged by +a sentry in the French trench. De Verne went forward to answer +and to establish the identity of his patrol. Then they were allowed +to pass in by the wire defenses, and next descended to the trench. +Officers and men hurriedly cleansed the black from their hands +and faces. + +"We will now march to Captain Cartier," said De Verne, "and he +shall give us our further orders." + +"You are looking for your friends, Captain?" spoke up a French +soldier in the trench, in his own tongue. "Captain Ribaut has +taken them west along the line." + +"Thank you. If they return, you will tell them where I have gone." + +By this time the German colonel was cursing volubly. He felt +that he could talk, at last, without danger of being killed for +his audacity. Noyez, pallid as in death, was silent, his eyes +cast down. + +Back to the third line of trenches De Verne led the party, then +down into the dug-out of his company commander, Captain Cartier. + +"A German colonel and Lieutenant Noyez, prisoners!" announced +the patrol leader. + +"The German colonel I can understand truly," replied the French +captain. "But why Lieutenant Noyez?" + +"Captain Prescott, of the American Army, arrested both and made +the charges against Noyez," De Verne responded. "You will hear +him now?" + +As it was their first meeting Captain Cartier shook hands with +Dick, who then told what he had overheard. + +"Noyez, a German spy!" exclaimed Captain Cartier. "Truly, it +seems incredible." + +"It is worse! It is an infamous charge!" cried Noyez passionately. + +"Yet our American comrade must be truthful, a man of honor," said +Captain Cartier, in a bewildered tone. + +"May I suggest, sir," Dick interposed, "that it will be easy to +decide. If Lieutenant Noyez was in the German trenches by orders +of his superiors, or with their knowledge, then that would establish +a first point in his favor. But if he was there without either +orders or permission, then plainly he must have gone there on +treasonable business." + +"That is absolutely fair!" declared Captain Cartier. "I will +send at once for Noyez's captain, and we shall hear what he says." + +In dejected silence Noyez awaited the arrival of Captain Gaulte, +who promptly declared that he had no knowledge of any authority +for his lieutenant to visit the enemy's lines. Gaulte had, in +fact, supposed that Noyez was back of the lines on over-night +leave, for which he had applied. + +"The business looks bad!" cried Captain Cartier, with troubled +face. + +"Quite!" agreed Captain Gaulte more calmly. + +"I must telephone for instructions," Cartier continued. "It may +require a long wait. Gentlemen, you will find seats." + +First Cartier called up his regimental commander and reported +the matter. + +"It will be passed on to division headquarters," reported Captain +Cartier, turning from the telephone instrument. + +By and by the telephone bell tinkled softly. Orders came over +the wire that the arresting party should take the prisoners to +division headquarters. + +"These are your instructions, then, Lieutenant De Verne. Of course +it is expected that Captain Prescott will accompany you as complaining +witness." + +In the darkness of the night it was a toilsome march back through +the communication trenches. This time, when they were left behind, +there was no limousine to pick up the members of the party. + +"It is a relief to be at last where we can talk," said De Verne, +in English. + +"You may speak for yourself," retorted the German colonel gruffly, +betraying the fact that he understood the language. + +Halted four times by sentries, the party at last reached division +headquarters. Outside a young staff officer awaited them. + +"General Bazain has risen and dressed," stated the staff officer. +"He had undertaken to snatch two hours' sleep, but this cannot +be his night to sleep. The general awaits you, and you are to +enter. Through to his office." + +As they entered the division commander's office they found that +fine old man pacing his room in evident agitation. + +"And you, too, Noyez?" he called, in a tone of astounded reproach. +"It was bad enough that we should find Berger a spy! But to find +one of our trusted officers---it is too much!" + +"I am neither spy nor traitor, my general!" declared Noyez furiously, +"and my record should remove the least suspicion from my name." + +"But you were in the enemy's trenches this night, without knowledge +or leave of your superiors, Lieutenant. Have you a plausible +way to account for it?" + +"All in good time, my general, when my head has had time to clear," +promised the young sub-lieutenant. + +"It is but fair that we give you time," assented General Bazain. +"It can give France no joy to find one of her officers a traitor." + +It was now the German's turn to be questioned. He gave his name +as Pernim. As he was an ordinary prisoner of war he was led from +the room to be turned over to the military prison authorities. + +"And it was you, my dear Captain Prescott, who captured one spy +who has since admitted his guilt. And now you bring in another +whom you accuse." + +"Berger has confessed, sir," Dick asked, "may I inquire if he +implicated Lieutenant Noyez?" + +"He did not." + +"Yet, sir, from what I heard, Berger and Noyez worked together. +If Berger be informed that Noyez has been captured is it not +likely that Berger will then tell of this accused man's work?" + +"Excellent suggestion! We shall soon know!" exclaimed General +Bazain, touching a bell. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A LOT MORE OF THE REAL THING + + +Through the orderly who answered, three staff officers were summoned. +To these the general gave his orders in undertones in a corner +of the room. As the three hastened out not one of them sent as +much as a glance in the direction of the unhappy Noyez. + +Seating himself in his chair General Bazain, after courteously +excusing himself, closed his eyes as though to sleep. The arresting +party and Noyez withdrew to the adjoining room. + +More than an hour passed ere the three staff officers returned +and hastened into the division commander's office. Fifteen minutes +after that Dick and his friends, with the prisoner, were again +summoned. + +"It has been simpler than we thought," General Bazain announced +wearily. "Berger, when questioned and informed of Noyez's arrest, +confessed that Noyez was the superior spy under whom he worked." + +"It is a lie, my general!" exclaimed Noyez, in a choking voice, +as he strode forward, only to be seized and thrust back. + +"It is the truth!" retorted General Bazain, rising and glaring +at the accused man. "Berger not only confessed, but he told where, +in your dug-out, Noyez, could be found the secret compartment +in which you hid the book containing the key to the code you sometimes +employed in sending written reports to the enemy. And here is +the code book!" + +General Bazain tossed the accusing little notebook on the desk. + +At sight of that Noyez fell back three steps, then sank cowering +into a chair, covering his eyes with his hands. + +"You comprehend that further lying will avail you nothing!" the +division commander went on sternly. "Lieutenant De Verne!" + +"Here, sir!" + +"Noyez, stand up. Lieutenant De Verne, I instruct you to remove +from the uniform of Noyez the insignia of his rank and every emblem +that stands for France! That done, you will next cut the buttons +from Noyez's tunic!" + +Standing so weakly that it looked as if he must fall, Noyez submitted +to the indignity, silent save for the sobs that choked his voice. + +"Call in the guard, and have the wretch removed from my sight!" +General Bazain ordered. "Yet, Noyez, I will say that it seems +to me incredible that any Frenchman could have been so ignoble +as you have proved yourself to he." + +"A Frenchman?" repeated Noyez disdainfully. "No Frenchman am +I. Already I am condemned, so I no longer need even pretend that +I am French. No! Though I was born in Alsace, my father's name +was Bamberger. Twenty years ago he moved to Paris, to serve the +German Kaiser. He fooled even your boasted police into believing +him French, and his name Noyez. My father is dead, so I may tell +the truth, that he served the Kaiser like a loyal subject. And +he made a spy of me. I was called to the French colors, and I +went, under a French name, but a loyal German at heart! I became +a French sub-lieutenant, but I was still a German, and the Kaiser's +officers paid me, knew where to find me and how to use me. I +must die, but there are yet other agents of the Kaiser distributed +through your Army. The Fatherland shall still be served from +the French trenches. You will kill me? Bah! My work has already +killed at least a regiment of Frenchmen. And since Berger has +weakened and betrayed me, I will tell you that he, too, is and +always has been a German subject. Remember, there are many more +of us wearing the hated uniform of France." + +"Noyez! Bamberger!" retorted General Bazain, "I can almost find +it in my heart to feel grateful to you, for you have told me that +you are not French. Since you are a German I can understand anything. +I thank you for assuring me that you are not French." + +With a gesture General Bazain ordered the prisoner's removal. Then, +his eyes moist, the division commander turned to beckon Dick to him. + +"Captain, I have to thank you for finding and helping to remove +two dangerous enemies from my command. You will find me +grateful---always!" + +Once more outside Lieutenant De Verne turned to Dick to ask: + +"You intend returning to the trenches?" + +"By all means, for I feel as though the night had but begun," +Dick cried. "It has gone well so far, and I am ready for whatever +the remaining hours can give me." + +"I had hoped that, at the most, you would ask me to find you a +bunk in a dug-out where you might sleep," confessed De Verne. +"When you have been longer in the trenches, Captain, you will +be glad to sleep whenever the chance comes your way." + +"But that will not be until I have learned more of the ways of +your trench life than I know yet," Dick rejoined. "At present +I would rather sleep during the daylight, for it appears to be +at night that the real things happen." + +De Verne accompanied him back to the fire trench, where Dick was +glad to find Captain Ribaut with the other three American officers, +that party having returned from a trip down the line. + +De Verne soon after took his leave, hastening rearward to begin +his rest. + +Bang! sounded a field-piece back of the German line. + +Between the French first-line and second-line trenches the shell +exploded. On the heels of the explosion came a furious burst +of discharging artillery. + +"This must be what you have been expecting, Major," shouted Ribaut +over the racket. "A barrage!" + +Down the line ran the noise of bombardment, the thing becoming +more furious every instant. Then some shells landed in first-line +trenches nearby. + +"Take shelter!" shouted Captain Ribaut. "Now! At once!" + +French soldiers were scurrying to dug-out shelters. Ribaut led +the officer party to a dugout reached by eight descending steps +cut in the earth. The apartment in which they found themselves +led out some fifteen feet under the barbed wire defenses. + +"How long is this likely to last?" demanded Major Wells, eyeing +the Frenchman keenly by the light of the one slim candle that +burned in the dug-out. + +"Perhaps fifteen minutes; maybe until after daylight," Ribaut +replied, with a shrug. + +"What is the object?" + +"Who can say? But a barrage fire is being laid down between our +first and second lines. That means that no reinforcements can +reach us from the support trenches. And our own trench is being +shelled furiously, to drive all into shelters. My friends, it +is likely that the Germans, enraged by the capture of Colonel +Pernim, who must be missed by now, are paying us back with a raid." + +"More of your strenuous doings then, Dick," laughed Greg. + +"At least a raid will be highly interesting," Dick retorted. "So +far we haven't been in one, and we're here for experience, you know." + +"And you really hope that this turns out to be a German raid?" +asked Captain Ribaut. + +"Yes; don't you, Captain?" challenged Major Wells. + +"An, but we French have seen so many of these raids, and they +are dull, ugly affairs, sometimes with much killing. After you +have seen many you will not hunger for more." + +It was not long before conversation was drowned out wholly by +the racket of exploding shells in and around the fire trenches. +Occasionally one of these drove a jet of sand down the stairs +of the dug-out, but this room was too far underground for the +dug-out roof to be driven in on them. + +Half an hour later the shell-fire against the front-line trenches +abated, though the barrage fire still continued to fall between +the first and second lines. + +Greg whistled softly, unable to hear a note that he emitted. +Noll Terry occasionally fingered one of the two gas-masks with +which he had been provided before entering the trenches. Major +Wells's attitude suggested that he had his ears set to note every +difference in sound that came from outside. + +A French soldier shouted down the steps in his own tongue: + +"Stand by! The Huns are coming!" + +At a single bound Captain Ribaut gained the steps and darted up, +followed promptly by the American officers. + +In the section in which they found themselves four French soldiers, +rifles resting over the parapet, stood awaiting the onslaught. + +Two more men, equipped with hand bombs, stood awaiting the moment +to begin casting. + +All the while the curtain of shell-fire, the barrage laid down +by the Germans between them and the second-line trenches, continued +to fall. It effectually prevented French reinforcements from +coming up to the first line. + +His automatic pistol ready, Dick Prescott found elbow-room on +the fire step. Cautiously he looked over the parapet. + +For a moment he could see nothing, save that German shell-fire +had blown the barbed wire defenses to pieces, clearing the way +for the German invaders to reach them. + +In the near distance Dick made out the shadowy figures of the +men in the first wave of the German assault. + +Rifle-fire began to roll out from the French soldiers. From somewhere +at the rear, perhaps from emplacements in or near the French support +trenches, the steady drumming of machine-gun fire began. The +air was filled with death. + +Dick Prescott's blood thrilled with the realization that he was at +earnest grip with the Boches! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A "GUEST" IN PRISON CAMP + + +In the terrific din of the barrage-fire the men of the first German +wave came on like so many silent specters. + +They did not run forward, but moved at a fast walk. It was necessary +that they save their breath to use in the hand-to-hand struggle +that must follow. + +Suddenly a French bomb left the trench, striking the ground just +in advance of the oncoming Germans. The pink flash of the explosion +lighted the set faces of three or four men of the enemy, one of +whom went to earth as a fragment from the bomb struck him. + +Then bombs fell fast, all along the line. Prescott, singling +out an enemy while the flash lasted, let drive at him with a shot +from his automatic. + +Though several of the Huns fell, the advancing line continued +unhesitatingly. The last few steps, past what was left of the +barbed wire, the Germans hurled themselves at greater speed. + +Then invaders and defenders clashed. German bayonets thrust viciously +down into the trench, while French bayonets reached up to dispute +them. + +Dick had backed away from the fire step. His back against the +further wall he was using his automatic pistol to the best advantage. + +The first German to leap into the trench landed almost at the +feet of Captain Greg Holmes, who had crouched to receive him. +Rising, in one of his best old-time football tackles, Greg threw +the Hun backward with fearful force, then sat on his chest. + +"You're my prisoner!" Holmes shouted at the prostrate. "Try to +rise if you dare!" + +So hot had been the reception of the first wave that those of +the Germans who did not manage to leap down into the trenches, +recoiled in dismay. + +Then the second wave of raiders came up, only to find that the +French had recovered their second wind. Great as the odds were +the French held their own, thrusting, shooting and clubbing with +rifle butts. + +From his position on his prisoner Greg fired coolly as often as +he could do so without endangering a French comrade. He longed +to rush in closer, but did not intend to let his prisoner get +away. Only one German got close enough to thrust at Holmes, who +shot him through the heart before the bayonet lunge could be made. + +What was left of the first and second waves was being beaten back. +Major Wells, Prescott and Noll Terry leaped to the parapet with +two French soldiers in their section to beat back the foe. + +Just then a third wave arrived. The fighting became brisker. +Dick Prescott felt a weight against his head. He staggered dizzily, +felt arms clutch at him, and had only a hazy notion of what followed. + +The Germans went back, carrying a few prisoners with them. A +minute later the enemy barrage lifted. + +"You may get up now," Greg admonished his captive, as he leaped +to his feet. + +"You've accounted for one of the enemy," smiled Captain Ribaut, +as he came up. + +"Captured him at the first pop out of the box," Holmes declared +proudly. "I told him to lie still, and he surely did. I'd have +hurt him if he had tried to get away." + +"How did you take him?" Ribaut asked, kneeling beside the still man. + +"Threw him with an old football tackle." + +"The Hun's neck is broken," reported the French captain, raising +the enemy's head and letting it fall. + +"What's that?" Greg demanded astonished. "Say, you're right, +aren't you? And to think of all the good fighting I missed through +holding on to that 'prisoner'! Dick will tease the life out of +me! By the way, where is he?" + +"I thought he went this way," Ribaut answered. "We must find +him. I hope he wasn't hurt." + +Thoroughly alarmed Greg wheeled and darted along the trench, looking +for his chum. Then he raced back, going off in the opposite direction. + +"Prescott isn't here!" he gasped, and sprang up at the parapet. + +"Here! Don't do that," Major Wells called to him, in a low voice. + +But there was no stopping Holmes. Bending low he raced along in +front of the trench, looking for the body, dead or alive, of his chum. + +Dick, however, was not to be found. Greg continued the search +desperately. + +Had the Germans sent up flares just then, and turned on their +machine guns, Greg would have made an inevitable mark. + +Captain Ribaut, more practical, sent a French corporal through +the nearby sections for word of Captain Prescott. + +"Captain Holmes, return to the trench," Major Wells ordered, in +a hoarse whisper. + +So Greg obeyed, in time almost to bump into Captain Ribaut. + +"Four men from this platoon are missing, and presumably were captured +by the enemy," said that officer. "I much fear that Captain Prescott +was also taken away by the enemy." + +"What? Captured by the Huns?" Greg demanded, divided between +amazement and consternation. "Dick captured? Let me lead a force +over to the enemy line to bring him back!" + +"Only the division commander could sanction that," replied Captain +Ribaut, with grave sympathy. "And it is never done, Captain." + +"Oh, I wish I had B company at my back, with A company thrown +in for good measure!" quivered Greg. "But say, can't there be +a mistake? Didn't Prescott go back wounded?" + +"No; I have sent to the dressing station, and he was not seen +there," Captain Ribaut replied. + +At first Greg couldn't believe that his chum had been captured. +When the probability of it did dawn on him nothing but his position +as an officer kept him from sitting down on the fire step and +sobbing. + +"I'd sooner know he was killed than that he had fallen into Hun +hands," Holmes sputtered. "But, if they have got him, then I'll +make a business of mistreating Germans after this!" + +Capture was precisely what had happened to Dick Prescott. It +was not for long that he had remained dazed. Two German soldiers +fairly dragged him across No Man's Land, his heels bumping over +the rough ground. + +Dick vaguely knew when the same men lifted him slightly and dropped +him, feet first, into the German trench. He fell forward to his +knees, and a German non-com raised him to his feet. + +"What place is this?" Dick demanded. But he knew as soon as he +heard laughing German voices around him. + +"Well, if I'm captured, I gave a good account of myself first," +Prescott muttered as he shook himself together, "I first captured +two German spies and a German colonel and turned them over to +the French. But poor old Greg! I'd almost sooner be in my present +boots than in his, for he'll be frantic when he finds this out." + +The same two German soldiers who had dragged him across No Man's +Land were now permitted the honor of piloting their distinguished +captive back from the line. Leading him into a communication +trench, they started with him for the rear. + +Though he still felt dizzy, Dick found his head clearing as he +moved along. He was able to judge that he had walked half a mile +through the communication trench, then at least another half-mile +along a road before he was halted at a hole in the ground. + +"Go down here," said one of the men in German, and pushed Dick +down a long flight of steps, leading to a large, electrically +lighted dug-out at least twenty-five feet below the earth's surface. + +"Only prisoners of rank received here, without orders," said a +sergeant near the foot of the stairs. + +"But this man is a captain," returned one of the captors. + +"Of what army?" + +"The American." + +"Bring the prisoner here!" ordered a voice from the further end +of the underground room. + +Dick was hustled along, bringing up at last in front of a long +table, behind which sat three German officers. + +"You are an American?" asked the officer who sat between the other +two. He spoke in English. + +"Yes," Dick admitted. + +"Of what regiment?" demanded the questioner. + +"Infantry regiment," Dick replied. + +"Yes, but how is your regiment known?" + +"As an infantry regiment," Dick answered, though he knew well what +was wanted of him. + +"Are your American regiments numbered?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"How is yours numbered?" + +"Numbered among the best, I believe," Dick returned, with a smile. + +"You are a captain?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you know what I mean to ask, and you must not try to trifle +with me. How is your regiment numbered? What is the number of +your regiment?" + +"Numbered among the best, as I told you." + +"How long have you been in France?" + +"Long enough to like its people, meaning those who belong here, not +those who have come into France by force of arms." + +"Captain, is your regiment on the line yet?" + +"It's a line regiment, of course," Prescott replied dumbly. + +"Captain," spoke the questioner angrily, "you must not try to +make game of us! If you do not answer our questions you will +regret it." + +"And if I did answer them I'd feel ashamed of myself," Dick smiled +blandly. "I'm going to take the liberty of asking you a question. +If you were captured and questioned, how much would you tell that +would injure Germany?" + +"I'd tell nothing," replied the German officer stiffly. + +"Same here," Dick went on smilingly. "I'm as strong for my country +as you are for yours." + +"But, Captain, you will have to tell us your name and rank, also +the designation of your organization. That has to be entered +on our records." + +"I am Captain Richard Prescott, captain of infantry, United States +Army," Dick returned, in a business-like way. "But when you go +further, and ask me for information about the American Army, you +need expect no sensible answers." + +"Take this man to the temporary prisoners' camp, and see that +he is put in the officers' section," said the questioner to the +two guards who had brought Dick in. + +So Dick was led out again, and once more escorted along a road. +He judged that the walk from dug-out to camp must have been at +least two miles in length. The "prison" to which he found himself +taken consisted of a high barbed wire enclosure, with a small +wooden building at one end, and another end of the enclosure fenced +off for officers. + +Into the building Dick was taken first. It contained only one +room and was evidently used as a booking and record office. + +Again he was asked his name by an officer behind a desk. As before +Prescott refused to state anything further than that his name was +Richard Prescott, and that he was a captain of infantry in the +American Army. + +"But you will have to tell us more than that," objected the German +officer blandly. + +"I'll answer any questions you may put to me," promised Dick, +"but I won't agree, in advance, to answer them truthfully." + +Another bald effort was made to force him to answer questions, +but Dick gave evasive replies that carried no information. + +"Take the fellow to the officers' section," ordered the man at +the desk, at last. + +So through a dark yard Prescott was led between rows of prisoners +sleeping on the ground. Some of them, too cold and miserable +to sleep, stirred uneasily as the newcomers passed by. + +It was the same in the officers' section. Though the night was +cold, all prisoners were sleeping on bare ground in the open. + +There were some four hundred prisoners in this lot, all French +except Prescott. + +In the officers' section he found some twenty men, also all French. +Two of them sat up as Dick entered. + +"Hola!" cried one of them in his own tongue. "You are an American?" + +"Yes," Prescott admitted. + +"Come and join us. We have the best bed in this camp." + +"It looks as if it might be hard," smiled Dick, glancing down +at the men. + +"Hard, but not so bad, after all," replied the other officer. +"See, we have removed our overcoats and spread them on the ground. +And we have two blankets over us. Come under the blankets with +us, and we shall all be warmer." + +Dick hesitated. He wondered if he wouldn't be crowding them out +of their none too good protection against the night air. + +"If you get in with us," urged the first, "it will make us all +warmer." + +On the face of it that looked reasonable, provided he did not +crowd either out under the edge of the blankets. + +"Oh, there will be plenty of room," one of them assured him. +"We can lie very close together. And you have no blanket if you +sleep by yourself." + +So Dick allowed himself to be persuaded. Then, to his surprise, +they insisted that he get in the middle between them. This, too, +he finally accepted, but repaid them in part by taking off his +trench coat and spreading it over the blankets in such a way that +all three gained added warmth from it. + +"How long have you been here?" Dick asked. + +"Two weeks," replied one of the pair. "It is a wretched life. Had +I known how bad it was I would have forced my captors to kill me." + +That was cheering news, indeed! + +"We must sleep now," spoke the other officer. "There is little +sleep be to had here in the daytime, and then we can talk." + +Dick lay awake a long time. A prisoner in the hands of the Huns! +All he had heard of the wretched treatment accorded prisoners +by the Germans came back to him. At least he had the satisfaction +of knowing that he was not a prisoner through any act of his own. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ON A GERMAN PRISONER TRAIN + + +At last he fell asleep. When he awoke the sun was shining in his +face. He was alone, for his bed-fellows of the night were already +astir. They had tucked him in as warmly as possible before leaving +him. + +Closing his eyes, Dick slumbered again. When he next opened his +eyes he sat up. + +"Good morning, comrade!" called one of the two between whom he +had slept. + +"Ah, good morning," Prescott answered in French, and stood up. +"My, but the mattress in this bed is a beastly one." + +The officer who addressed him, a young man of twenty-five or so, +laughed good-humoredly. + +"What time is breakfast to be had here?" Dick asked. + +"I fear, comrade, that we shall not have any this morning, for +the news is that we are to be entrained to-day and sent away." + +"To Germany?" + +"It must be. And on embarkation mornings no food is served." + +"They start us away hungry?" Dick asked. + +"Always, so I have been told. But you are not missing much, comrade, +for you are not yet accustomed to the food the Germans feed their +prisoners, and no one eats much of it until he has been hungry +for a few days. Then something like an appetite for the stuff comes +to one." + +Finding himself somewhat chilled and cramped Prescott began to go +briskly through some of the Army setting-up exercises. + +"That is a fine thing to warm the blood," said one of the French +officers, "but I warn you that it will make you hungry." + +The other French officers now came forward to make themselves +known to the only American officer in this prison camp. + +"We are moving to-day," said one. "Will it be better in the new +prison than here, do you think?" Prescott asked. + +"In some ways at least. We shall undoubtedly be housed in a wooden +building, and that should be warmer at night. Besides, I hear +we are permitted straw mattresses when in Germany." + +"That begins to sound like luxury," laughed Dick. + +"And there our friends can send us food through neutral agencies." + +"Do you suppose, if they do, we shall be allowed to have some +of the food?" Dick asked. + +"Some of it, at least, or our friends would quickly stop sending +it to us when they heard from us that we did not get it." + +"It will be a dog's life," broke in another, "even with such better +treatment as may be accorded to officers." + +Dick Prescott's heart was as stout as any American's heart could +be, but as he listened to the talk of his French brothers in arms +he could not help feeling glum. + +For one thing, it was hardly for this that he had sailed from +America to be taken at the outset and to be shut off from all +service with the men of his own country! + +A German under-officer who spoke French came to the wire to call +out: + +"You officers will march from here soon. Begin to get your packs +ready. There must be no delay." + +"It won't take me long," Dick told his new friends. "When captured +I had only my uniform and my pistol. The latter was taken." + +He turned to, however, to help his French brothers who possessed +blankets, water bottles and other small belongings, for some of +them appeared almost too weak to prepare for the march. + +The same order had been given to the enlisted men in the next +enclosure. For a few minutes there was some bustle over getting +petty belongings together and marshaling them into a pack that +could be slung over the back. + +"Officers ready!" ordered the under-officer, returning. "Fall +in by twos and march after me to the office." + +He marched the little detachment through the larger enclosure, +and in through the rear of the office building. Here there was +a roll-call. Then the officers, again in twos, were marched outside, +where a corporal and four soldiers fell in with them as guard. + +Down the road the captured officers were marched for something +like a quarter of a mile. + +"Halt, but keep your places in the ranks," ordered the corporal. +"Any prisoner disobeying will be shot." + +"There is something that promises!" cried Captain Lescault, pointing +to the sky. + +Southward, over the lines, appeared a squadron of swift French +airplanes, coming over the German lines. Almost instantly German +aircraft began to rise from the ground, going to meet the invaders +of the air. + +Over the purring of the engines sounded the sharp, continuous +rapping of machine guns as the opposing craft fought each other. + +Two German planes came crashing down to earth. More appeared +in the air, until the French flyers, outnumbered, turned and flew +back over the French lines. + +"I believe our flyers got what they wanted," whispered the same +French officer to Prescott. + +Five minutes later the Frenchman whispered exultingly: + +"Ah, I was sure of it! Our airmen were spying for the artillery. +Now you shall see things happen." + +In the air sounded a screech. Then, less than three hundred yards +further down the road a French shell exploded, overturning a motor +truck and killing both Germans on its seat. The truck itself was +a wreck. + +Crash! Another shell landed in the road, bowling over two officers +at the head of a body of oncoming soldiers. The next shell landed +in a mass of marching German infantry, killing and wounding several. +Then, for five minutes a hurricane of shells descended on that +road, wrecking trucks, killing and wounding more than a hundred +men in German marching detachments, and chasing all troops from +the road. + +"That does not win the war!" growled the German corporal in charge +of the officer-prisoners. "It is only French mischief!" + +Hardly had the shell hurricane ceased when some hundred men, under +guard, came marching down from the prison camp. These were halted, +at the edge of the field, just behind the officers. + +An hour passed before another detachment of prisoners was marched +down the road and halted. Later more came. Noon had passed before +the final detachment arrived. + +It was wearisome, but Dick Prescott did not feel that he had wasted +his time. Full of the hope of escaping, some day, he had watched +covertly everything that he could see of German army life and +movements behind the fighting line. Also, from several incidents +that he witnessed, he gained a new idea of German military brutality. + +One scene that made his blood boil was when a French officer, a +wounded man, and suffering also from hunger, let himself slide to +a sitting posture on the ground. + +"Here, you!" ordered the German corporal advancing threateningly. +"You have been told that you must stand in line." + +"But our comrade is weak from loss of blood," interposed another +French officer who spoke German. + +"Take that for your meddling," retorted the corporal, landing +the back of his hand stingingly on his informant's face. It was +a humiliating blow, that a prisoner could not resent in kind. + +"Get up," ordered the corporal, "or I shall aid you with my bayonet." + +Though the words were not understood by the sufferer, the gesture +was. He tried to obey, but did not rise fast enough to suit the +corporal. + +"Here," mocked the fellow. "That will help you!" + +His bayonet point passed through the seat of the victim's trousers, +more than pricking the flesh inside. + +"Coward!" hissed Prescott and three of four of the French officers. + +"If you don't like it, and are not civil," raged the corporal +hoarsely, "I shall beat some of you with the butt of my gun." + +Subsequently a French officer who had stepped a foot further than +he was supposed to stand was rebuked by the corporal's gun-butt +striking him on the knee-cap. After that the prisoner limped. + +"These brutes ought to be killed---every one of them!" Dick muttered +disgustedly to a French officer near him. + +"Most of them will be, before this long war is over," nodded the +Frenchman, "but a soldier's death is too fine for such beasts." + +Finally a German officer arrived. Under his crisp orders the +now long column of prisoners moved out into the road, forming +compactly and guarded by at least forty infantrymen. The order +to march was given. With only two halts the prisoners were marched +some eight miles, arriving late in the afternoon at a railway +yard. + +Here the column was halted again for an hour, while the German +officer was absent, presumably, in search of his orders. When +the march was taken up again its course led across a network of +tracks to a long train. + +"Why, these are cattle cars," uttered Prescott, disgustedly, when +the column had been halted along the length of the foremost part +of the train. "And, judging by the odor, these cars haven't been +cleaned." + +"They won't be until we are through riding in them," returned +the French officer at his side. "This is what comes to soldiers +who surrender to the German dogs!" + +Only one car was given over to the officer-prisoners, who were +forced to climb into the unsavory car through a side door. No +seats had been provided, but there was not more than room to stand +up in the stuffy car. Fortunately the spaces between the timbers +of the car sides gave abundant ventilation. + +Into cars to the rear the enlisted prisoners were packed. To +stomachs that had been empty of food all day the odors were +especially distressing. + +As the officer in charge of the prisoners came to the side door +of the first car Dick made bold to prefer a request. + +"We have had no water all day. May we have a bucket of it in +here before the train starts?" + +"There will not be time," replied the German officer coldly, and +moved away. Yet two hours passed, and the train did not start. + +Suddenly German guns behind the front, along a stretch of miles, +opened a heavy bombardment. Dick and his French friends gazed +out at a sky made violently lurid by the reflection of the flashes +of these great pieces. Then the French guns answered furiously, +nor did all the French shells fall upon the German trenches or +batteries. The French knew the location of this railway yard. +Within twenty minutes five hundred large caliber shells had fallen +in or near this yard. Freight and passenger coaches were struck +and splintered. + +Into the forward cattle car bounded the corporal who had tormented +them that day. Behind him, in the doorway, appeared the German +officer. + +"Count the prisoners," ordered the latter, "and make sure that +all are there. We are going to pull out of here before those +crazy French yonder destroy all our rolling stock." + +Fifteen minutes later, though the French shell-fire had ceased +coming this way, the train crawled out of the yard. It ran along +slowly, though sometime in the night it increased its speed. + +Dick Prescott will never forget the misery of that night. When +the train was under way the cold was intense in these half-open +cattle cars. No appeal for water to drink was heeded. + +Despite their discomforts, most of the prisoners managed to sleep +some, though standing up. + +In the middle of the night Prescott awoke, stiff, nauseated, hungry +and parched with tormenting thirst. Though he did not know it +at that moment, the train had halted because of a breakdown in a +train ahead. + +Along the track came that tormenting corporal. While a soldier +held up a dim lantern the corporal unlocked the padlock, sliding +the side door back. + +At that moment an order was bawled lustily in German. + +"Will you be good enough to repeat, Herr Lieutenant?" called the +corporal, glancing backward down the length of train. + +Heavy footsteps were heard approaching. Corporal and private +turned to take a few steps back to meet their officer. Dick, +standing in the open doorway, saw that a fog had settled down +over the night. + +Acting on a sudden impulse, without an instant's hesitation, he +leaped down, striking softly on the balls of his feet. Without +even turning sideways to see if German eyes had observed him, +Prescott stole across another track, and down to the foot of an +embankment. + +"They'll shoot me for this!" he muttered. "Let them! Death is +better than being a German prisoner!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SEEKING DEATH MORE THAN ESCAPE + + +In another instant the French officer who had been standing next +to Dick attempted the same trick. He had just gained the ground +when the German lieutenant, turning his gaze from the corporal's +face, and glancing ahead, broke off in the middle of his instructions +to cry out: + +"There's a prisoner escaping! Halt him or shoot him!" + +Realizing that he was hopelessly caught, and trusting to better +luck next time, the Frenchman held up his hands. + +"Get back into the car," ordered the German lieutenant. "Corporal, +take the lantern and see that all the prisoners are in there." + +As the corporal obeyed, the lieutenant looked in and nodded. + +"There was no time for any to escape," he remarked. "We nipped +the first one. You are scoundrels when you try to disgrace me +by escaping. Just for the attempt of this comrade of yours, gentlemen, +you shall have no breakfast in the morning." + +The door was moved quickly into place, the padlock snapped, and +then the guard turned to other matters. + +Not a French officer in that car but would sooner have died than +betray the fact that Dick had slipped out of sight. Though they +themselves were still in the car, they prayed that he might find +either safety from the Germans, or that better thing than captivity, +death. + +As for Captain Prescott, he had slipped into a field beyond. +When he halted to peer about he was perhaps sixty feet from the +train. Moving cautiously he made the distance another hundred +feet. Yet he did not dare to go far at present, nor rapidly. + +"I'm out of the car, if nothing more," Dick reflected, inhaling +a deep breath of the foggy air. "I shall always feel grateful +to that German engineer. His blowing off steam made noise enough +so that my jump and my footsteps weren't heard." + +One of Dick's feet, moving exploringly, touched a stone. Bending +over and groping, he found three fair-sized stones. + +"Good enough!" he thought, picking them up. "Sooner or later, +to-night, wandering around in an American uniform, I'm going to +be heard and halted. I'll throw these stones at the sentry who +tries to halt me, and then he'll fire. After he shoots there'll +be no German prison ahead for me!" + +This wasn't exactly a thought in the cheerful class, yet Prescott +smiled. More contented with his prospects he moved softly away. + +For the first hundred feet from the embankment his shoes touched +grass. Then he came to the edge of a ploughed field. Here he +felt that he must proceed with even greater caution, for now most +of the train noises had ceased and he feared to slip or stumble, +and thus make a noise that might be carried on the still night +air to the ears of the train guard. + +However, he soon struck a smooth path leading through the ploughed +ground, and now moved along a little faster. + +"This is just where caution ought to pay big dividends," he told +himself. "A path is usually made to lead to where human beings +live and congregate. I'll stop every few feet and listen." + +The first sound that came to his ears from out of the veiled distance +ahead made the young American officer almost laugh aloud. It was +the crowing of a rooster. + +"If you know how hungry I am, my bird, I doubt if you'd make any +noise to draw me your way." + +However, the crowing had given him a valuable clew, for he reasoned +that the barnyard home of Mr. Rooster must be near the general +buildings of a farm. These buildings he decided to avoid. So, +when he came to a fork in the path he chose the direction that +led him further from what he believed to be the location of the +farm buildings. + +By this time he was moving more rapidly, though striving to make +no noise in moving. Suddenly he came to a road and stopped, gasping. + +"I don't want anything as public as this," Dick told himself. +"Troops use roads. However, as I've reached the road, and want +to get as far from the train as possible, I believe I'll take +a look from the other side of the road. There may be a field +there better suited to my needs." + +Directly opposite, at the other edge of the road, two tree trunks +reared themselves close together, looking tall and gaunt against +the white of the fog. After listening a moment Dick started to +cross the road to them. + +Just as he reached the trunks he saw something move around the +further one, and drew back quickly. It was well that he did so, +for the moving thing was a man armed with an axe which he had +swung high and now tried to bring down relentlessly on Prescott's +head. + +But Dick's arms shot up, his hands catching the haft and wrenching +the ugly weapon away from its wielder. + +"No, you don't!" Dick muttered in English, taking another step +backward from the wild-looking old peasant who had attempted to +brain him. + +"But a thousand pardons, monsieur!" cried the old man hoarsely +in French, and now shaking from head to foot. "I did not see +well in the fog, and I mistook you for a German. You are a British +soldier!" + +"An American soldier," Dick replied in the same tongue. + +"Then, had I killed you, grief would have killed me, too, as it +has already sent my wits scattering. For I am a Frenchman and +hate only Germans." + +"Is this a safe place to stand and discuss the Germans?" asked +Dick mildly, in a voice barely above a whisper. "This road-----" + +"No, no! It is not safe here," protested the peasant. "Soldiers +and wagons move over this road. That was why I was here. I hoped +to find some German soldier alone, to leap on him and kill him---and +I thought you a German until after I had swung at you. Heaven +is good, and I have not to reproach myself for having struck at +the American uniform. But you are in danger here. You are-----" + +"An escaped prisoner," Dick supplied in a whisper. "I have just +escaped from the Germans." + +"If you are quick then, they shall not find you," promised the +old man, seizing Dick by the arm. "Come! I can guide you even +through this fog." + +There was something so sincere about the old peasant, despite +his wildness, that Prescott went with him without objection. +Both moving softly, they stepped into another field, the guide +going forward as one who knew every inch of the way. + +Presently buildings appeared faintly in the fog. + +"Wait here," whispered the peasant, and was gone. He soon came +back. + +"There are no German soldiers about the place," the old man informed +Dick. "I will take you into the house---hide you. You shall +have food and drink!" + +Food and something to drink! To Dick Prescott, at that moment, +this sounded like a promise of bliss. + +To a rear door the old man led the American, and inside, closing +and bolting the door after him. Here the man struck a light, +and a candle shed its rays over a well-kept kitchen. + +As Dick laid the axe down in a corner he heard a sobbing sound +from a room nearby. + +"It is the dear old wife," said the peasant, in an awed tone. +"To-day the German monsters took our son and our daughter, and +marched them off with other young people from the village. They +have been taken to Germany to toil as slaves of the wild beasts. +Do you wonder, monsieur, that the good wife sobs and that I haunted +the road hoping to find a German soldier alone and to slay him? +But I must hide you, for Germans might come here at any moment." + +Throwing open a door the old man revealed a flight of stairs. +He led the way to a room above. Here a door cunningly concealed +behind a dresser was opened after the guide had moved the dresser. +At a sign Dick entered the other room, only to find himself confronted +by another man, whose face, revealed by the candle light, caused +Captain Dick Prescott to recoil as though from a ghost. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CAN IT BE THE OLD CHUM? + + +"You know each other?" cried the old peasant, as he observed the +amazement of two young men. "You are enemies?" + +As he saw the pair fairly hug each other he added hastily: + +"But no! You are friends!" + +Then he added, as if he were saying something new: + +"Friends, quite certainly." + +"You, Dick Prescott!" gasped the other young man. + +"Tom Reade!" uttered the young captain delightedly. + +The old peasant held the candle higher that he might see better +what was taking place. In that light Dick made another discovery. + +"Tom, you're in uniform! Aviation service, at that!" + +"What else did you expect?" Tom demanded. "Especially after I +wrote and told you all about it." + +"When?" + +"Last July." + +"Where did you send the letter?" + +"To you at Camp Baker." + +"It was in July that we left Camp Baker for Camp Berry. Your +letter must have gone astray. I heard from the old home town +of Gridley that you and Hazelton had gone across---something to +do with welfare work. I couldn't make it out," Dick hurried on," +neither did I know where to address you." + +"That's just it, though!" exclaimed Tom Reade, with a happy laugh. +"Welfare work explains it to a dot. We're working for the welfare +of the world by helping to kill as many Huns as possible!" + +"But how came you to be here?" + +"I might ask as much of you, Dick, as you and I appear to be in +exactly the same boat." + +It looked rather ungrateful toward the old peasant who had brought +these old, old friends together, but for a few moments both forgot +him. When they remembered him they found that the old man had +gone, closing the door. + +Then Dick told what had befallen him, after which Reade explained +that, three nights before, on a night flight over the German lines, +his plane had been damaged by a fragment of shell from an anti-aircraft +gun. Reade had been obliged to descend some forty miles behind +the German front lines. Fortunately he had come down in a field +near the house in which he now hid. He had cautiously come to +this house, and as cautiously aroused the inmates, reasoning that +they must be French and should befriend him. This the peasants +had cheerfully done. + +"I've been hiding here since, and my machine was found, but I +wasn't," Tom wound up. + +"You see, this room has no windows, and I keep very quiet, and +so, perhaps, I could remain here safely a month. But I won't. +I have plans for escape back to the French lines." + +At this moment the door opened again. The old peasant came in +with a tray on which was a dish of smoking meat, dark bread and +potatoes and a pot of coffee. + +"Now, since you are old friends I shall leave you," said the old +man smiling, as he patted both young Americans on the shoulder. +"But Monsieur Reade knows how to call me if I am wanted. Good +rest and stout hearts, young gentlemen!" + +"We'll feast a bit!" cried Prescott eagerly. + +"You will," Tom corrected. "I've had my evening meal and am not +hungry. Eat before the candle burns out, and while you do so +I will fix the ventilator for the night. When you have eaten +we can turn in on the bed, for we can talk there as well as when +sitting in the dark." Dick fell to ravenously on the food and +coffee, while Tom attended to ventilation by removing a loose +brick from a chimney, half of which was in this blind attic. + +"We must pay this peasant well," Dick proposed, when he had nearly +finished the meal, "for I'll wager he is not rich." + +"I can pay him all right," declared Reade, striking a hand against +his waist-line. "In my money belt I have a stock of American +gold. Gold is a money that is very popular in Europe in these +days of hardship." + +Later the chums disrobed and turned in. There was abundance of +covering to the bed. + +"Now," proposed Tom Reade, talking in whispers, "for my plan of +escape. It's dangerous, and it sounds impossible, fantastic. +But now that you're here, Dick Prescott, I feel equal to putting +anything through! So here's for the plan!" + +It was dangerous enough, certainly, as Tom Reade outlined it. +It didn't even strike Captain Prescott as being possible of performance, +but he didn't say so. It was the only plan of escape that presented +itself, and Tom had evidently put in all his hopes on that idea. + +From the plan the chums fell to talking of other days. In the +end, however, their whispers became more indistinct, then died +out. Both were asleep. + +Dick, as he slumbered and tossed, still felt the motion of that +hideous prison train, but at last fell into deep slumber. + +When he finally awoke he beheld Tom Reade, fully dressed in his +uniform, seated at some distance under a little opening in the +roof, reading a book. + +"Awake, eh?" asked Tom, when he heard his chum stir. After glancing +at his wrist watch, he added: + +"You've slept nine hours and a half, and I guess you needed it. +There is water for washing, and I'll consult our host about breakfast. +What do you think of this way of letting in daylight? Toward +night I shove this black cover over the hole in the roof, so that +candle light may not show through the roof and give us away to +the Germans." + +Stepping to the chimney, from which the "ventilator" brick was +still absent, Reade put his hand inside, finding a cord and giving +it a gentle tug. + +By the time that Prescott was partly dressed the door opened and +the old peasant looked in. + +"We are wondering what you can give us for breakfast?" Tom said +in French. "Are eggs to be had to-day? Omelettes?" + +"Yes, I can get eggs," nodded the old man. + +"As you've not seen the color of my money yet," Tom continued, +"please take this on account." + +At first the old peasant hung back from accepting the proffered +gold coin, though at last he took it, remarking: + +"I will admit that I am poor, and yet it seems a crime to accept +money from an American." + +Half an hour later their host returned, bringing two hot omelettes, +dark bread, potatoes and the inevitable pot of coffee. + +"It is with difficulty that we keep food hidden," he murmured, +in a low voice. "A dozen times the Huns have appeared and have +taken from us all the food they could find. But we still have +flour, potatoes and coffee hidden where they cannot find them. +We shall hope to continue to exist until you Americans have helped +drive the Hun from our land." + +From the nearby road came the sound of moving trucks. The old +man paused and shook his fist in the direction of the sound. +After he had served the breakfast he climbed upon a stool, putting +his eyes to the hole in the sloping roof and peering toward the +road. + +"Ah, the vermin!" he hissed. "A regiment of their accursed infantry +marching toward the front. Oh, that your men and ours might kill +them all this day!" + +"Give us time, and we'll do it," Tom promised unconcernedly. + +After breakfast the two chums talked almost without stopping until +it was time for luncheon. In the afternoon Tom stretched, then +walked toward the bed, declaring: + +"When one has no chance to exercise I believe sleep to be the +next best thing, even extra sleep. I believe that I can sleep +until supper time. And after that---perhaps it will be tonight, +Dick, that we make our fantastic effort to place ourselves on +the other side of the German battle front!" + +"The sooner the better," cried Dick, "only provided that speed +does not waste our chance to escape." + +"If we must go down in defeat," yawned Reade, "I believe we may +at least look for the satisfaction of carrying a few Huns with +us. I believe I have forgotten to mention the fact that I have +my automatic pistol with me. It's hidden, but I could show it +to you." + +"I'm glad you have it," murmured Dick, as he closed his eyes. +"I never before felt the desire to slay human beings, but since +I've struck the French front I've had a constant desire to kill +Huns!" + +"To-night, then," said Reade drowsily, "we may find the chance +both to kill Huns and get back to the French lines." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DASH TO GET BACK TO PERSHING + + +"After dark, by a whole hour!" whispered Reade, after waking, +striking a match and looking at his wrist watch. "Hustle, Dick!" + +Tom's next act was to light a candle. "Want supper?" he asked. + +"I could eat it," Prescott replied. "But what's the use?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why waste time with eating when there's the slimmest chance to +get away?" Dick continued. + +"It may be hours before we can really put our plan into execution." + +"Our plan?" repeated Dick. "What on earth did I have to do with +making the plan? But, if you feel that we're not wasting time +over a supper I'll admit that I am ready to eat." + +So Reade summoned their host, as before. + +"Is the night good and foggy?" Tom asked, when the aged peasant +appeared. + +"There is not a trace of fog, monsieur," was the reply. "Still, +the sky is cloudy, and the night is dark." + +"That's only second-best weather," grumbled Reade. "However, +I'm impatient to have a try to-night. I think we will try for +it. Can you help us?" + +"Undoubtedly I can find out how clear the coast is," replied the +old man. "I would be glad to do far more than that for you." + +"If you can supply us with supper," Tom proposed, "and then find +out the news, it will be a great service." + +Later, while the chums ate, the old peasant went abroad. Tom +and Dick were waiting impatiently until he returned. + +"All is as well as it will be any night," the Frenchman reported, +and added details. + +"We'll try it, then," Reade decided, after glancing at Prescott, +who nodded. + +"And may you succeed!" cried the old peasant fervently. "And +may you both come safely through the war, and have the good fortune +to slay Huns and Huns and Huns!" + +"Promise me, my good old friend, to use your axe only for chopping +wood," Dick urged, + +"And I will promise to think of you whenever I have the chance +to destroy a Hun." + +"It is a bargain, then!" cried their host. + +"It will be kept, on my side," Dick rejoined gravely. + +"And on mine, too," agreed the old man. + +It was quiet abroad when the three stealthily left the house. +The Americans had wished to leave a word of cheer with the peasant's +wife, but she had fallen asleep and they would not disturb her. + +Through a wood and across fields their guide led the young Americans +until they neared the spot they sought. + +"From here on one will have to be cautious," suggested the Frenchman. +"You are about to cross a road, and then, on the other side, +one comes to the aviation station." + +"Then here is where you should leave us," Dick remarked considerately. +"Very likely we shall fail and be sent on to a prison camp, this +time in irons. Perhaps we shall be shot. But we do not care +to let an old man, and a Frenchman follow us to a death that he +should not invite." + +"I would go with you until I see you safely in sight of the station," +objected the Frenchman. + +"It seems unnecessary, and contemptible in us to risk your life +along with our own. Do you understand the lay of the land, Tom? +Can you find our objective without risking the life of our good +old friend here?" + +"I am sure that I can," Reade nodded. "Like yourself, Dick, I +feel that he should not come further with us. And see here, monsieur. +You have not asked our names, neither have we known yours. Some +day, when all around here is French territory again, and the beastly +German has gone forever, we shall want to look you up, or write +you. I am Lieutenant Tom Reade, of the American aviation service, +and my friend is Captain Richard Prescott, of the American Infantry." + +"And I am Francois Prim. My neighbors call me Papa Prim." + +"Show us the way we are to go, Monsieur Prim," Dick urged. + +"It is simple," replied Papa Prim. "You see, without fail, the +little building to which I am pointing, over by the roadside?" + +"Yes." + +"That was our school-house. Now it is an office for the Prussians. +They have a battalion or more of infantry camped in the field +across from the building. They are a guard to keep us afraid. +Sometimes one will see three or four regiments camped further +along on that field, either regiments going to the front or coming +back for rest. Now, from that building you turn and go in that +direction"---Papa Prim made a motion with his crooked +forefinger---"and so you come to four sheds that are easily missed +in the night, for they are camouflaged so as not to attract the eye +of French flyers in the day time. From here it will be the first +shed that you come to that is more likely to be open at night. +In each shed are two airplanes. They are kept here for the purpose +of sending up at night when French planes pass over to bomb railways +or perhaps to bomb German towns. When our own French airmen come +then these airplanes shoot up into the sky and give battle. But +the Huns have lost twelve planes here in half that number of months," +Papa Prim added proudly, "and only lately have enough new ones +arrived from Germany to make up the eight required for this station." + +"Where do the airmen sleep?" Dick interjected. + +"In the camp with the troops; in the hangars there are no sleeping +places." + +"And the hangars are at some distance from the troop camp?" Tom +asked. + +"The troop camp begins over that way," Papa Prim continued, pointing, +"for, as you will understand, there must be ground on which the +airplanes may run before they rise. So there is some distance. +I came near forgetting to tell you that, behind the hangars, are +four tents in which the hangar guard sleeps." + +"And how many sentries at a time walk post around the hangars?" +Dick inquired. + +"I do not know," confessed Papa Prim, "but I do not believe there +are more than three or four sentries on duty at a time. Of course, +there are other sentries on post at the camp." + +"And airships leaving fly directly over the camp?" Tom wanted +to know. + +"You have said truly," replied Papa Prim. "And are there anti-aircraft +guns in the camp?" Tom asked. + +"In the troop camp, so I have heard, but I have not seen them," +answered Papa Prim. + +Removing his steel helmet and taking it in his left hand, Dick +bent over, seizing Papa Prim's hand. + +"Good-bye for a little while, monsieur," he said earnestly. "We +go away with hearts full of gratitude to your own fine, loyal +heart. May you prosper and be happy, with your children safely +returned from Germany. May all good things in life be with you. +Our thanks will always be with you, and our thoughts often of +you, monsieur." + +Tom Reade took leave of Papa Prim in equally hearty and grateful +words. + +The two Americans watched the slim, bent old figure plodding homeward. +After looking the ground over critically, they stole forward +on their way. + +"I didn't want him to see what disagreeable business we may have +on our hands within a few minutes," Dick whispered. "But see +here, Tom, I've just remembered that you didn't pay Papa Prim +for all his trouble, as you had planned." + +"Didn't I?" Reade chuckled. "I did it without any dispute from +him, either. Dick, I wrapped five twenty-dollar American gold +pieces in cloth, so they wouldn't jingle, and stuffed the whole +tightly into a small canvas bag. While you were talking I slipped +it into one of his blouse pockets. Papa Prim will find the money +there, and he'll know who put it there, but he won't be able to +return it." + +"American gold?" Dick echoed. "If the Germans ever know of his +having American gold they'll think it reason enough for hanging +him." + +"No, they won't," Tom retorted, "though they would undoubtedly +think it reason enough for taking the money away from him. But +I've seen plenty of American gold in France, and plenty of English +gold, too. Anywhere in the world gold is gold, and having American +gold isn't proof, during this war, that the possessor got it from +an American. I'll wager that there is plenty of American gold +locked up even in Germany. But the Germans will never find Papa's +gold. Papa Prim will hide it until the day comes when, like the +good Frenchman that he is, he can turn that gold into a French +war bond." + +Nearing the former school-house that had been pointed out to them, +the two chums took their bearings afresh. Crossing the road one +at a time, with utmost stealth, they reached the other side without +having been challenged. + +A little further on they espied a German sentry, pacing post. +Waiting until the fellow had gone to the furthest limit of his +post, the chums, flat on their stomachs, crawled forward until, +on looking backward, they judged it safe to rise and move on crouchingly. +Then they came in sight of the aviation station. + +"Better crawl all the way now," Dick whispered. "We have reached +the point where any attempt at speed will be sure to place a few +bullets in our bodies." + +Tom nodded, without speaking. It was trampled, withered grass +through which they now crawled. It offered fair concealment, but +there was danger of making a noise that might betray them to a +keen-eared sentry. + +At last, near the first hangar, they reached a spot where two +trees stood close together. Crawling to this shelter, they still +remained lying down, though the tree trunks gave them greater +safety against being seen. + +In front of the hangars paced a sentry; at the rear another soldier +walked post. At some distance from this latter sentry stood four +tents, in which, Papa Prim had declared, slept the reliefs of +the guard. + +"I see how we could get the sentry at the rear," Dick whispered, +after a few minutes' silent survey. "But it's at the front that +we want to get in, and I don't see any way of creeping up on the +front sentry without the rear sentry seeing us and firing. That +would give the alarm." + +"Then we've got to 'get' the rear sentry first?" Tom asked, his +lips at his chum's ear. + +"That's it." + +"Nasty business, and double chance of losing the game." + +"It's the only way, Tom, unless your head is working better than +mine." + +For some minutes Tom Reade studied. + +"I guess it will have to be the rear sentry first," he conceded. + +At that moment a small door at the rear of the hangar opened. +The two friends heard the noise, and judged by sound more than sight. + +"Sentry!" said the man who had stepped outside, in a low voice. + +"Herr Lieutenant!" responded the man. "I am not locking the door, +sentry. I shall be back before long." + +"Very good, Herr Lieutenant." Passing to the front of the hangar +this German aviation lieutenant waited until the sentry there +had reached him, then delivered the same information, after which +the aviation officer strode off briskly toward the troop camp +that could be only vaguely seen in the distance. + +"It sounds as if he intended to make a flight," whispered Dick +uneasily. + +"That wouldn't be so bad," Reade replied. "It will be worse if +his machine is out of order and he is coming back to fuss over it." + +"We must make our break now," Prescott whispered. + +"Lead the way," answered Reade. Fortunately, at this moment, +the sentries were at the outer ends of their posts. Bending low, +keeping his gaze on the sentries, Dick scurried noiselessly over +the ground until he paused, erect and panting, under the shadow +of the building near the rear. + +So far safe, for Reade was with him an instant later. While the +rear sentry finished his post at this end just beyond the hangar, +the front sentry, as far as had been observed, came only as far +as the sliding doors of the hangar. + +"Get your automatic ready!" Dick whispered. Then they heard the +rear sentry coming toward them. + +There came that tense instant when the sentry's passing form loomed +up within three feet of Captain Prescott. Losing not an instant +Dick sprang upon him with the bound of a panther. + +There was no outcry, for Dick's fingers sought and found the fellow's +throat, encircling it. Wrenching the enemy soldier off his balance, +Prescott laid him low, the man's bayoneted rifle falling across +his body. + +It was Dick's eyes that said, "Ready, Tom!" Reade hesitated for +a second or so, then struck the prostrate, choking enemy between +the eyes. It was a fearful blow, and the man collapsed. + +"One down, but we must get the other!" Dick whispered sternly. + +They stole forward along the side of the building, Dick in the +lead. Peeping around the corner he saw the sentry almost finishing +the nearer end of his post. Back came Prescott's head like a +shot. He waited until he knew by the tread that the sentry had +turned and was going back over his post. Then it was that Dick +stole upon him from behind. Another leap, a grip around the man's +throat, and sentry number two was on his back, where Reade gave +him the grace blow. + +Without a word the chums picked up this sentry, carrying him around +to the rear. Then Dick sought the small rear door of the hangar. +It opened softly, and they entered, closing it behind them. + +All was darkness in here until Reade, producing his pocket electric +torch, threw a beam of light over the scene. + +While Dick stood still, now holding the automatic pistol, Tom +took a rapid look over each of the two air machines. + +"This nearer one looks like the newer, better one," Reade declared. +"I'll look over the machinery to make sure that the engine is +all right and that I understand the engine and the controls. +Her machine-gun is ready for business and we may need it." + +Dick stood patiently by, wondering how soon the guard was due +to be relieved. If that happened soon, and the knocked-out sentries +were discovered, the chance for escape looked like three less +than nothing! + +"All right," whispered Tom at last. "I can handle her, and there +is water enough in the radiator and the gas tanks are filled. +Now, then, we must open the doors as noiselessly as possible." + +Dick taking the left-hand one, Tom the right, they rolled the +doors back. These moved almost noiselessly. + +"Here's the way you turn the engine on," Tom whispered, holding +the torch and getting Dick up into the cockpit of the craft. +"Turn it on as soon as I say, but not a second before." + +Placing himself in front of the propeller Tom gave it a few brisk +turns. + +"Now!" cried Tom, leaping back. The ignition caught at once. +Tom clambered over into the cockpit, Prescott now being in the +observer's seat forward. + +With the wheel in his hands and his feet resting against the controls +Tom Reade suddenly dropped all apprehension. He was as much at +home now as Prescott was with an automatic pistol in his hand. + +Waiting only until the engine had gained its speed without missing, +Tom cried: + +"Ready, pal!" + +Out through the open doorway Reade sent the airplane "taxying" +or running along the ground. + +Across the field toward them came racing a German aviator with +a startled look on his face. He had to jump out of the way as +the "taxying" airplane bore down on him. But he reached for his +automatic and brought it forth. + +"Stop!" he roared. "Turn out the guard!" Bang! bang! + +Two bullets whizzed by Tom's head. Prescott fired three shots +instantly, one of them taking effect, for the German officer went +to earth and lay there, his pistol now silent. + +From behind the hangar several members of the guard came rushing +from their tents. By the time they were in front of the hangar +they could shoot only by guess, and might hit their own comrades +in the troop camp. So they fired into the air, wildly, rapidly. + +So much shooting was bound to rouse the troop camp, and did. +The sentries came out on the jump. While some fired star shells +that lighted the sky, others took quick aim with their rifles. + +Aiming at the figures on the ground as best he could, just as +Reade left the ground for the air, Prescott fired, loaded and +fired, jamming in a fresh magazine whenever the automatic became +emptied. + +Twenty feet up in the air, fifty, a hundred! Tom Reade rose as +fast as he could make the machine move. More star shells, and +now the anti-aircraft guns came into action. + +At three hundred feet above the ground shells exploded about the +fugitives. One lucky shot of the enemy would be enough to bring +them to earth. + +The pistol was now too hot to use further. Dick sat back, closing +his eyes, while Reade drove at all the speed he could compel, +ever rising higher. Both Americans knew that other anti-aircraft +guns further south would be turned upon them. + +Finally Tom, after a glance at the barograph, roared at Prescott: + +"Five thousand feet up on a dark night, and we're going to fifteen +thousand feet. All we now have to fear will be other German aircraft, +but there'll be fleets of them sent out to look for us!" Prescott +nodded, though he could not hear in the roar of the motors and +the rush of the air past him. + +A mile below them the blackness of the night was punctured by +a lively little volcano of red and yellow jets. A dozen anti-aircraft +guns opened fire on the fugitive airplane, whose course must have +been telephoned along the line. Some of the shells burst so close +that fragments of metal whizzed about the ears of both Americans; +some of the shells went far wide of the mark, but at least two +of the gunners followed the moving craft for the distance of a +mile with an accuracy that caused the two fugitives in the sky +the liveliest uneasiness. The gunners were aiming by the sound +of the engines. + +"Give us fifteen minutes more at this speed," + +Tom roared, "and we'll be back over our own French lines!" + +They were soon going at terrific speed, fifteen thousand feet up +in the air, when a terrifying peril beset them. + +Out of the blackness ahead, bearing straight at them, came a dozen +German airplanes in splendid formation! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +"Hurrah!" yelled Tom Reade. "Sink or swim---but never say die! +Now we'll give it to 'em, real Yankee Doodle, 'over there' style!" + +It sounded like sheer bravado, but Reade was fired with the new +genius of the war. + +Tom headed straight for the nearest plane, and Dick turned the +machine gun loose. Almost immediately he had the great good luck +to cripple that enemy and send the craft fluttering down to earth. + +But another plane had attempted to go under them with a view to +shooting up. It came too near, in the maneuver shot too badly, +and Dick let loose with the machine gun again. Down came the +enemy plane while Reade took a wide swerve to the right. + +So swift and daring had been Reade's tactics that he was through +and past the opposing fleet ere the German aviators realized their +failure. Now the survivors wheeled and gave chase, though they +soon abandoned it, for the plane that Reade drove was a new one +and faster than any of his pursuers. For a minute or so more +the two Americans survived by sheer good luck. Then they were +out of enemy range. + +Higher Tom mounted in the air. Dick fairly chattered with the +cold, but he kept the machine gun ready for instant use. + +A few minutes more, then Tom, shutting off the power for a glide, +inquired, at the top of his voice: + +"Where do you want to be put down?" + +"For choice," Captain Prescott answered, "as close as possible +to General Bazain's divisional headquarters." + +"I know the place," Tom nodded. "There's an aviation station +about three miles beyond there." + +Tom threw on the power, straightened away, and three minutes later +began to glide again until he was not more than six thousand feet +from earth. + +"Keep your eyes turned low," Tom counseled. "Soon we ought to +see something." + +Nor was that "something" long in appearing. Not far ahead, yet +so much below them as to look tiny, hundreds of flashes were seen. + +"German artillery," Dick told himself. + +Another minute, and he beheld flashes turned against the Germans. + +"Between the two lines of artillery are the fire trenches of the +opposing armies," Prescott realized with a thrill. + +Next he found himself, at lower altitude, going squarely over a +line of French batteries. + +"Now comes the really ticklish work of the night!" Reade shouted +back. "When we try for a landing we'll endeavor to make our own +crowd understand that, though this is a German machine, it comes +on no hostile errand. If we can't make the Frenchmen understand +that, then they'll blow us back into the sky as soon as we range +low enough!" + +Guided by that instinct which is the aviator's best compass at +night, Reade steered toward the landing field. + +Bang! came the report of a gun below, and a shell exploded dangerously +close to the aircraft. Tom switched on an electric light signal +beneath the craft to show that a friendly craft sought safe landing. +At the same time Dick leaned as far over as he could and waved +an arm slowly. Then just ahead a flare began on the ground, next +burned up brightly---a can of gasoline lighted and allowed to burn +to indicate the neighborhood in which to come down. + +Going past and turning, Reade volplaned gracefully earthward, +landing just beyond the blazing gasoline. + +Instantly they were surrounded by two-score French aviators and +mechanicians. + +"It is all right!" the cry went up. "They are Americans, though +the machine is German." + +M. le Commandant Perrault, chief of squadron, stepped rapidly +forward, receiving the salute of the two American officers and +asking questions at volley-fire speed. His face betrayed amazement, +but when the brief narrative had been finished he grasped the hands +of each. + +"It was splendidly done," he declared. + +"And now, sir, on behalf of my friend, may I ask how far we are +from the front line?" Tom inquired. "Captain Prescott wishes +to return to the trenches immediately." + +"It is ten kilometers," replied the commandant. "Yet speed shall +not be impossible. Within five minutes I will have here a car +that will take Captain Prescott to the communication trenches, +and in that car will be a trench guide." + +"And I'm going, too, Dick," Tom added, squeezing his chum's arm. +"We have a lot to talk over yet." + +As the German airplane had been turned over to Commandant Perrault, +Reade had no further concern with that. He bounded into the motor +car when it arrived. Later the trench guide conducted them into +the front trenches, even to the section from which Prescott had +been taken. Major Wells was now, with Captain Holmes and Lieutenant +Terry, at a point about a third of a mile to the westward. + +Thither Dick and Tom turned their steps, still with the trench +guide showing the way. Unexpectedly this little party came upon +Major Wells just as the latter was saying: + +"The greatest blow to us was the loss of Captain Prescott. Of +course he may be a prisoner, and unharmed, but we much fear that +he was killed." + +"I beg to report, sir," Dick broke in smilingly, as he saluted, +"that I was not so indiscreet as to be killed." + +Like a flash Major Wells turned upon him. "Prescott!" he cried, +"I can't believe it." But he did, just the same, and, coming +to his senses, went on hastily: + +"General, I have the great happiness of presenting Captain Prescott!" + +Again Dick came to the salute, and when it was finished he stood +very erect, hands straight at his sides, for he had caught sight, +above the horizontal braid on the general's coat, of four stars, +instead of the two stars of a major-general. There was but one +officer in the United States service who could wear four stars---the +American Commander-in-chief. + +Under the general's questioning Prescott and Reade, who was also +presented, told their stories with soldierly brevity and directness. + +"And how do you feel now, Captain?" inquired the Commander-in-chief +smiling. + +"Utterly happy, sir, for I've realized my sole ambition for months," +Captain Dick answered fervently. + +"And what was that?" + +"To be in France, with General Pershing, and at grips with mankind's +enemies." + +"You've made a gallant start, Captain," smiled the Commander-in-chief. +"And in that I include your friend, Lieutenant Reade. You are +officers after my own heart." + +Captain Greg Holmes coming upon this scene, stood back as long +as etiquette in the presence of a general demanded, then rushed +forward to give joyous greeting to both chums. + +Dick and his friends were destined to go even further in the +realization of their fondest hopes. Up to this moment the United +States was only in the infancy of her part in the great war. +Greater days were coming, and did come, and what happened then will +be found truthfully set forth in the next volume in this series, +which will be published under the title: + +"_Uncle Sam's Boys Smash The Germans; Or, Helping the Allies Wind +Up the Great World War_." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops +by H. 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