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diff --git a/23663.txt b/23663.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f70709c --- /dev/null +++ b/23663.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5097 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Tom Slade on a Transport, by Percy Keese Fitzhugh + +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: Tom Slade on a Transport + +Author: Percy Keese Fitzhugh + +Illustrator: Thomas Clarity + +Release Date: November 30, 2007 [EBook #23663] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: TOM HOBBLED ALONG, HOLDING THE RAIL. +Frontispiece--(Page 131)] + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT + +By Percy K. Fitzhugh + +Author of TOM SLADE, BOY SCOUT, TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP, +TOM SLADE ON THE RIVER, TOM SLADE WITH THE COLORS + +Illustrated by Thomas Clarity + +Published With the Approval of the Boy Scouts of America + +GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK +Made in the United States of America + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Copyright, 1918, by GROSSET & DUNLAP + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. Tom Meets One Friend and Is Reminded of Another 1 + II. He Does a Good Turn and Makes a Discovery 9 + III. He Scents Danger and Receives a Letter 19 + IV. He Gets a Job and Meets "Frenchy" 29 + V. He Makes a Discovery and Receives a Shock 39 + VI. He Hears About Alsace and Receives a Present 46 + VII. He Becomes Very Proud, and Also Very Much Frightened 55 + VIII. He Hears Some News and Is Confidential with Frenchy 61 + IX. He Sees a Strange Light and Goes on Tiptoe 68 + X. He Goes Below and Gropes in the Dark 77 + XI. He Makes a Discovery and Is Greatly Agitated 83 + XII. He Is Frightened and Very Thoughtful 86 + XIII. He Ponders and Decides Between Two Near Relations 92 + XIV. He is Arrested and Put in the Guardhouse 97 + XV. He Does Most of the Talking and Takes All the Blame 103 + XVI. He Sees a Little and Hears Much 107 + XVII. He Awaits the Worst and Receives a Surprise 115 + XVIII. He Talks With Mr. Conne and Sees the Boys + Start for the Front 121 + XIX. He Is Cast Away and Is in Great Peril 129 + XX. He Is Taken Aboard the "Tin Fish" and Questioned 135 + XXI. He Is Made a Prisoner and Makes a New Friend 144 + XXII. He Learns Where He Is Going and Finds a Ray of Hope 151 + XXIII. He Makes a High Resolve and Loses a Favorite Word 154 + XXIV. He Goes to the Civilian Camp and Doesn't Like It 161 + XXV. He Visits the Old Pump and Receives a Shock 169 + XXVI. He Has an Idea Which Suggests Another 176 + XXVII. He Plans a Desperate Game and Does a Good Job 185 + XXVIII. He Disappears--for the Time Being 192 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT + +CHAPTER I + +TOM MEETS ONE FRIEND AND IS REMINDED OF ANOTHER + + +As Tom Slade went through Terrace Avenue on his way to the Temple Camp +office, where he was employed, he paused beside a truck backed up +against the curb in front of a certain vacant store. Upon it was a big +table and wrestling with the table was Pete Connigan, the truckman--the +very same Pete Connigan at whom Tom used to throw rocks and whom he had +called a "mick." It reminded him of old times to see Pete. + +The vacant store, too, aroused dubious memories, for there he had stolen +many an apple in the days when Adolf Schmitt had his "cash grocery" on +the premises, and used to stand in the doorway with his white apron on, +shaking his fist as Tom scurried down the street and calling, "I'll +_strafe_ you, you young loafer!" + +Tom had wondered what _strafing_ was, until long afterward he heard +that poor Belgium was being _strafed_; and then he knew. + +"Wal, ef 'tain't Tommy Slade!" said Pete, with a cordial grin of +surprise. "I ain't seen ye in two year! Ye've growed ter be a big, +strappin' lad, ain't ye?" + +"Hello, Pete," said Tom, shaking the Irishman's brawny hand. "Glad to +see you. I've been away working on a ship for quite a while. That's one +reason you haven't seen me." + +"Be gorry, the town's gittin' big, an' that's another reason. The last +time I seen ye, ye wuz wid that Sweet Cap'ral lad, an' I knocked yer two +sassy heads tergither for yez. Remember that?" + +"Yes," laughed Tom, "and then I started running down the street and +hollered, 'Throw a brick, you Irish mick!'?" + +"Ye did," vociferated Pete, "an' wid me afther ye." + +"You didn't catch me, though," laughed Tom. + +"Wal, I got ye now," said Pete, grabbing him good-naturedly by the +collar. And they sat down on the back of the truck to talk for a few +moments. + +"I'm glad I came this way," said Tom. "I usually go down Main Street, +but I've been away from Bridgeboro so long, I thought I'd kinder stroll +through this way to see how the town looked. I'm not in any particular +hurry," he added. "I don't have to get to work till nine. I was going to +walk around through Terrace Court." + +"Ben away on a ship, hev ye?" questioned Pete, and Tom told him the +whole story of how he had given up the career of a hoodlum to join the +Scouts, of the founding of Temple Camp by Mr. John Temple, of the +summers spent there, of how he had later gotten a job on a steamer +carrying supplies to the allies; how he had helped to apprehend a spy, +how the ship had been torpedoed, how he had been rescued after two days +spent in an open boat, of his roundabout journey back to Bridgeboro, and +the taking up again of his prosaic duties in the local office of Temple +Camp. + +The truckman, his case-spike hanging from his neck, listened with +generous interest to Tom's simple, unboastful account of all that had +happened to him. + +"There were two people on that ship I got to be special friends with," +he concluded. "One was a Secret Service man named Conne; he promised to +help me get a job in some kind of war service till I'm old enough to +enlist next spring. The other was a feller about my own age named +Archer. He was a steward's boy. I guess they both got drowned, likely. +Most all the boats got upset while they were launching them. I hope that +German spy got drowned." + +"Wuz he a German citizen?" Pete asked. + +"Sure, he was! You don't suppose an American citizen would be a spy for +Germany, do you?" + +"Be gorry, thar's a lot uv German Amiricans, 'n' I wouldn' trust 'em," +said Pete. + +"Well, there's some Irish people here that hate England, so they're +against the United States too," said Tom. + +"Ye call me a thraiter, do ye!" roared Pete. + +"I didn't call you anything," Tom said, laughing and dodging the +Irishman's uplifted hand; "but I say a person is American or else he +isn't. It don't make any difference where he was born. If he's an +American citizen and he helps Germany, then he's worse than a spy--he's +a traitor and he ought to get shot." + +"Be gorry, you said sumthin'!" + +"He's worse than anything else in the world," said Tom. "He's worse +than--than a murderer!" + +Pete slapped him on the shoulder. "Bully fer you!" said he. "Fwhativer +became uv yer fayther, lad?" he questioned after a moment. + +"He died," said Tom simply. "It was after we got put out of Barrel Alley +and after I got to be a scout. Mr. Ellsworth said maybe it was +better--sort of----" + +Pete nodded. + +"An' yer bruther?" + +"Oh, he went away long before that--even before my mother died. He went +to work on a ranch out West somewhere--Arizona, I think." + +"'N' ye niver heard anny more uv him?" + +"No--I wrote him a letter when my mother died, but I never got any +answer. Maybe I sent it to the wrong place. Did you ever hear of a place +called O'Brien's Junction out there?" + +"It's a good name, I'll say that," said Pete. + +"Everybody used to say he'd make money some day. Maybe he's rich now, +hey?" + +"I remimber all uv yez when yez used fer ter worrk fer Schmitt, here," +said Pete. + +"It reminded me of that when I came along." + +"Yer fayther, he used fer ter drive th' wagon fer 'im. Big Bill 'n' +Little Bill, we used fer ter call him 'n' yer bruther. Yer fayther wuzn' +fond uv worrk, I guess." + +"He used to get cramps," said Tom simply. + +"He used fer ter lick yez, I'm thinkin'." + +"Maybe we deserved to get licked," said Tom. "Anyway _I_ did." + +"Yer right, ye did," agreed Pete. + +"My brother was better than I was. It made me mad when I saw him get +licked. I could feel it way down in my fingers, kind of--the madness. +That's why he went to live at Schmitt's after my father got so he +couldn't work much. They always had lots to eat at Schmitt's. I didn't +ever work there myself," he added with his customary blunt honesty, +"because I was a hoodlum." + +"Wal, I see ye've growed up ter be a foine lad, jist the same," said +Pete consolingly, "'n' mebbe the lad as kin feel the tingles ter see's +bruther git licked unfair is as good as that same bruther, whativer!" + +Tom said nothing, but gazed up at the windows of the apartment above the +store where the Schmitts had lived. How he had once envied Bill his +place in that home of good cheer and abundance! He remembered the +sauerkraut and the sausages which Bill had told him of, and he had not +believed Bill's extravagant declaration that "at Schmitt's you could +have all you want to eat." To poor Tom, living with his wretched father +in the two-room tenement in Barrel Alley, with nothing to eat at all, +these accounts of the Schmitt household had seemed like a tale from the +Arabian Nights. Once his father had sent him there to get fifty cents +from thrifty and industrious Bill, and Tom remembered the shiny oilcloth +on the kitchen floor, the snowy white fluted paper on the shelves, the +stiff, spotless apron on the buxom form of Mrs. Schmitt, whom Mr. +Schmitt had called "Mooder." + +Tom Slade, of Barrel Alley, had revenged himself on Bill and all the +rest of this by stealing apples from the front of the store and calling, +"Dirty Dutchman"--a singularly inappropriate epithet--at Mr. Schmitt. +But he realized now that Mr. Schmitt had been a kind and hospitable man, +a much better husband and father than poor Bill Slade, senior, had ever +been, and an extremely good friend to lucky Bill, junior, who had lived +so near to Heaven, in that immaculate home, as to have all the +sauerkraut and sausage and potato salad and rye bread and Swiss cheese +and coffee cake that he could possibly manage--and more besides. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HE DOES A GOOD TURN AND MAKES A DISCOVERY + + +"What became of the Schmitts?" Tom asked. + +"It's aisy ter see ye've ben away from here," said Pete. + +"I've only been back five days," Tom explained. + +"Wal, if ye'd been here two weeks ago, ye'd know more'n ye know now +about it. Ye're a jack ashore, that's what ye are. Ye've got ter be +spruced up on the news. Did ye know the school house burned down?" + +"Yes, I knew that." + +"Wal--about this Schmitt, here; thar wuz two detectives come out from +Noo Yorrk--from the Fideral phad'ye call it. They wuz making inquiries +about Schmitt. Fer th' wan thing he wuz an aly-_an_, 'n' they hed some +raysons to think he wuz mixed up in plots. They wuz mighty close-mouthed +about it, so I heerd, 'n' they asked more'n they told. Nivir within half +a mile uv Schmitt did they go, but by gorry, he gits wind uv it 'n' +th' nixt mornin' not so much as a sign uv him wuz thar left. + +"Cleared out, loike that," said Pete, clapping his hands and spreading +his arms by way of illustrating how Adolf Schmitt had vanished in air. + +"Thar wuz th' grocery full uv stuff and all, 'n' the furnitoor upstairs, +but Adolf 'n' the old wooman 'n' th' kids 'n' sich duds ez they cud cram +inter their bags wuz gone--bury drawers lift wide open, ez if they'd +went in a ghreat hurry." + +Tom had listened in great surprise. "What--do--you--know--about--that?" +he gasped when Pete at last paused. + +"It's iviry blessed worrd that I know. I'm thinkin' he wint ter Germany, +mebbe." + +"How could he get there?" Tom asked. + +"Wouldn't thim Dutch skippers in Noo Yorrk Harrbor help him out?" Pete +shouted. "Gerrmany, Holland--'tis all th' same. Thar's ways uv gittin' +thar, you kin thrust the Germans. They're comin' and goin' back all the +toime." + +"What do you suppose they suspected him of?" Tom asked, his astonishment +still possessing him. + +"Nivir a worrd wud they say, but ye kin bet yer Uncle Sammy's not spyin' +around afther people fer nuthin'. They searched the store aftherworrds, +but nary a thing cud they find." + +So that was the explanation of the now vacant store which had been so +much a part of the life of Tom Slade and his poor, shiftless family. +That was the end, so far as Bridgeboro was concerned, of the jovial, +good-hearted grocer, and Fritzie and little Emmy and "Mooder" in her +stiff, spotless white apron. It seemed almost unbelievable. + +"A Hun is a Hun," said Pete, "'n' that's all thar is to't." + +"What did they do with all the stuff?" Tom asked. + +Pete shrugged his shoulders. "Mister Temple, he owns th' buildin' an' he +hed it cleared out, 'n' now he leaves them Red Cross ladies use it fer +ter make bandages 'n' phwat all, 'n' collect money fer their campaign. +He's a ghrand man, Mister Temple. Would ye gimme a lift wid this here +table, now, while ye're here, Tommy?" + +As they carried the table across the sidewalk, a group of ladies came +down the block and whom should Tom see among them but Mrs. Temple and +her daughter Mary. As he looked at Mary (whom he used to tease and call +"stuck up") he realized that he was not the only person in Bridgeboro +who had been growing up, for she was quite a young lady, and very +pretty besides. + +"Why, Thomas, how _do_ you do!" said Mrs. Temple. "I heard you were +back----" + +"And you never came to see us," interrupted Mary. + +"I only got back Tuesday," said Tom, a little flustered. + +He told them briefly of his trip and when the little chat was over Pete +Connigan had disappeared. + +"I wonder if you wouldn't be willing to move one or two things for us?" +Mrs. Temple asked. "Have you time? I meant to ask the truckman, but----" + +"He may be too old to be a scout any more, but he's not too old to do a +good turn," teased Mary. + +They entered the store where the marks of the departed store fixtures +were visible along the walls and Schmitt's old counter stood against one +side. Piles of Red Cross literature now lay upon it. Upon a rough +makeshift table were boxes full of yarn (destined to keep many a long +needle busy) and the place was full of the signs of its temporary +occupancy. + +"If I hadn't joined the Red Cross already, I'd join now," said Tom, +apologetically, displaying his button. "A girl in our office got me to +join." + +"Wasn't she mean," said Mary. "I'm going to make you work anyhow, just +out of spite." + +Other women now arrived, armed with no end of what Tom called "first aid +stuff," and with bundles of long knitting needles, silent weapons for +the great drive. + +Tom was glad enough to retreat before this advancing host and carry +several large boxes into the cellar. Then he hauled the old grocery +counter around so that the women working at it could be seen from the +street. The table, too, he pulled this way and that, to suit the +changing fancy of the ladies in authority. + +"There, I guess that's about right," said Mrs. Temple, eying it +critically; "now, there's just one thing more--if you've time. There's a +thing down in the cellar with little compartments, sort of----" + +"I know," said Tom; "the old spice cabinet." + +"I wonder if we could bring it up together," said Mrs. Temple. + +"I'll get it," Tom said. + +"You couldn't do it alone," said Mary. "I'll help." + +"I can do it better without anybody getting in the way," said Tom with +characteristic bluntness, and Mary and her mother were completely +squelched. + +"Gracious, now he has grown," said Mrs. Temple, as Tom disappeared +downstairs. + +"His eyes used to be gray; they've changed," said Mary. + +As if that had anything to do with moving tables and spice cabinets! + +The spice cabinet stood against the brick chimney and was covered with +thick dust. Behind it was a disused stove-pipe hole stuffed with rags, +which Tom pulled out to brush the dust off the cabinet before lifting +it. + +He had pushed it hardly two feet in the direction of the stairs when his +coat caught on a nail and he struck a match to see if it had torn. The +damage was slight, and, with his customary attention to details, he saw +that the nail was one of several which had fastened a narrow strip of +molding around the cabinet. About two feet of this molding had been torn +away, leaving the nails protruding from the cabinet and Tom noticed not +only that the unvarnished strip which the molding had covered was clean +and white, but that the exposed parts of the nails were still shiny. + +"Huh," he thought, "whoever pulled that off must have been in a great +hurry not to hammer the nails in or even pull them out." + +As he twisted the nails out, one by one, it occurred to him to wonder +why the heavy, clinging coat of damp dust which covered the rest of the +cabinet was absent from this white unsoiled strip and shiny nails. The +cabinet, he thought, must have been in the cellar for some time, whereas +the molding must have been wrenched from it very recently, for it does +not take long for a nail to become rusty in a damp cellar. + +He struck another match and looked about near the chimney, intending, if +the strip of molding were there, to take it upstairs and nail it on +where it belonged, for one of the good things which the scout life had +taught Tom was that broken furniture and crooked nails sticking out +spell carelessness and slovenliness. + +But the strip was not to be found. A less observant boy would not have +given two thoughts to the matter, but in his hasty thinking Tom reached +this conclusion, that some one had very lately pulled this strip of +molding off of the cabinet and had used it for a purpose, since it was +nowhere to be seen. + +With Pete's tale fresh in his mind, he struck match after match and +peered about the cellar. Against the opposite wall he noticed a stick +with curved tongs on one end of it, manipulated by a thin metal bar +running to the other end. It was one of those handy implements used to +lift cans down from high shelves. It stood among other articles, a rake, +an old broom, but the deft little mechanical hand on the end of it was +bright and shiny, so this, too, had not been long in the damp cellar. + +For a moment Tom paused and thought. It never occurred to him that +momentous consequences might hang upon his thinking. He was simply +curious and rather puzzled. + +He picked up the can lifter and stood looking at it. Then with a sudden +thought he went back to the chimney, struck a match and, thrusting his +head into the sooty hole, looked up. Four or five feet above, well out +of arm's reach, something thin ran across from one side to the other of +the spacious chimney. The can lifter was too long to be gotten wholly +into the chimney, but Tom poked the end of it through the hole and +upward until its angle brought it against the chimney wall. + +It was right there that the crosspiece was wedged. In other words, it +had been pushed as high, a little on this side, a little on that, as +this handy implement would reach, and perhaps kept from falling in the +process by the gripping tongs. + +Not another inch could Tom reach with this stick. By hammering upward +against the end of it, however, he was able to jam it up a trifle, +thanks to its capacity for bending. Thus he dislodged the crosspiece and +as it tumbled down he saw that it was the strip of molding from the +cabinet. + +But along with it there fell something else which interested him far +more. This was a packet which had evidently been held against the side +of the chimney by the stick. There were six bulging envelopes held +together by a rubber band. The dampness of the chimney had not affected +the live rubber and it still bore its powdery white freshness. + +"I wonder if they looked there," Tom thought. "Maybe they just reached +around--kind of. I should think they'd have noticed those shiny nails, +though." + +He put the packet safely in his pocket and, hauling the cabinet up on +his back staggered up the stairs with it. + +"What in the world took you so long?" said Mary Temple. "Oh, look at +your face!" + +"I can't look at it," said matter-of-fact Tom. + +"It's too funny! You've got soot all over it. Come over here and I'll +wash it off." + +It was a curious thing about Tom Slade and a matter of much amusement to +his friends, that however brave or noble or heroic his acts might be, he +was pretty sure to get his necktie halfway around his neck and a dirty +face into the bargain. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HE SCENTS DANGER AND RECEIVES A LETTER + + +Tom was greatly excited by his discovery. As he hurried to the office he +opened the envelopes and what he found was not of a nature to modify his +excitement. Here was German propaganda work with a vengeance. He felt +that he had plunged into the very heart of the Teuton spy system. +Evidently the recipient of these documents had considered them too +precious to destroy and too dangerous to carry. + +"He might still think of a way to get them, maybe," thought Tom. + +There was a paper containing a list of all the American cantonments and +opposite each camp several names of individuals. Tom thought these might +be spies in Uncle Sam's uniform. There was some correspondence about +smuggling dental rubber out of the United States to make gas masks in +Germany. There were requests for money. There was one letter giving +information, in considerable detail, about aeroplane manufacture. + +Another letter in the same handwriting interested Tom particularly, +because of his interest in gas engines--the result of his many tussles +with the obstreperous motor of the troop's cabin launch, _Good Turn_. +Skimming hastily over some matter about the receipt of money through +some intermediary, his interest was riveted by the following: + + "... I told you about having plans of high pressure motor. That's + for battle planes at high altitudes. I've got the drawings of the + other now--the low pressure one I told you about at S----'s. That's + for seaplanes, submarine spotting, and all that. Develops 400 H.P. + They're not putting those in the planes that are going over now, + but all planes going over next year will have them. B---- told me + what you said about me going across, but that's the only reason I + suggested it--because the information won't be of any particular + use to them after they bring down a plane. They'll see the whole + thing before their eyes then. But suit yourself. There's a lot of + new wrinkles on this motor. I'll tell you that, but there's no use + telling you about it when you don't know a gas engine from a + meat-chopper. + + "Sure, I could tend to the other matter too--it's the same idea as + a periscope. That's a cinch. I knew a chap worked on the + _Christopher Colon_. She used to run to Central America. Maybe I + could swing it that way. Anyway, I'll see you. + + "If you have to leave in a hurry, leave money and any directions at + S----'s. + + "I'm going to be laid off here, anyway, on account of my eardrums. + + "Hope B---- will give you this all right. Guess that's all now." + +Tom read this twice and out of its scrappiness and incompleteness he +gathered this much! that somebody who was about to be dismissed from an +aeroplane factory for the very usual reason that he could not stand the +terrific noise, had succeeded in either making or procuring plans of +Uncle Sam's new aeroplane engine, the Liberty Motor. + +He understood the letter to mean that it was very important that these +drawings reach Germany before the motors were in service, since then it +would be too late for the Germans to avail themselves of "Yankee +ingenuity," and also since they would in all probability succeed in +capturing one of the planes. + +He gathered further that the sender of the letter was prepared to go +himself with these plans, working his way on an American ship, and to do +something else (doubtless of a diabolical character) on the way. The +phrase "same idea as a periscope" puzzled him. It appeared, also, that +the sender of the letter, whoever he was and wherever he was (for no +place or date or signature was indicated and the envelopes were not the +original ones) had not sent his communications direct to this alien +grocer, but to someone else who had delivered them to Schmitt. + +"It isn't anything for me to be mixed up in, anyway," Tom thought. He +was almost afraid to carry papers of such sinister purport with him and +he quickened his steps in order that he might turn them over to Mr. +Burton, the manager of Temple Camp office. + +But when he reached the office he did not carry out this intention, for +there was waiting for him a letter which upset all his plans and made +him forget for the time being these sinister papers. It took him back +with a rush to his experiences on shipboard and he read it with a smile +on his lips. + + "Dear Tommy--I don't know whether this letter will ever reach you, + for, for all I know, you're in Davy Jones's locker. Even my memo of + your address got pretty well soaked in the ocean and all I'm dead + sure of is that you live in North America somewhere near a bridge." + +Tom turned the sheet to look at the signature but he knew already that +the letter was from his erstwhile friend, Mr. Carleton Conne. + + "You'll remember that I promised to get you a job working for Uncle + Sam. That job is yours if you're alive to take it. It'll bring you + so near the war, if that's what you want, that you couldn't stick a + piece of tissue paper between. + + "If you get this all right and are still keen to work in transport + service, there won't be any difficulty on account of the experience + you've had. + + "Drop in to see me Saturday afternoon, room 509, Federal Building, + New York, if you're interested. + + "Best wishes to you. + "Carleton Conne." + +So Mr. Conne was alive and had not forgotten him. Tom wished that the +letter had told something about the detective's rescue and the fate of +the spy, but he realized that Secret Service agents could hardly be +expected to dwell on their adventures to "ship's boy" acquaintances, and +was it not enough that Mr. Conne remembered him at all, and his wish to +serve on an army transport? + +He took the letter into the private office to show it to Mr. Burton, +resolved now that he would say nothing about his discovery in Schmitt's +cellar, for surely Mr. Conne would be the proper one to give the papers +to. + +"You remember," he began, "that I said if I ever heard from Mr. Conne +and he offered me a job, I'd like to go. And you said it would be all +right." + +Mr. Burton nodded. "And the expected--or the unexpected--has happened," +he added, smiling, as he handed Mr. Conne's letter back to Tom. + +"It'll be all right, won't it?" Tom asked. + +"I suppose it will have to be, Tom," Mr. Burton said pleasantly. "That +was our understanding, wasn't it?" + +"Yes, sir--but I'm sorry--kind of." + +"I'm sorry, kind of, too; but I suppose there's no help for it. Some +boys," he added, as he toyed with a paperweight, "seem to be born to +work in offices, and some to wander over the face of the earth. I would +be the last to discourage you from entering war service in whatever form +it might be. But I'm afraid you'd go anyway, Tom, war or no war. The +world isn't big enough for some people. They're born that way. I'm +afraid you're one of them. It's surprising how unimportant money is in +traveling if one has the wanderlust. It'll be all right," he concluded +with a pleasant but kind of rueful smile. He understood Tom Slade +thoroughly. + +"That's another thing I was thinking about, too," said Tom. "Pretty soon +I'll be eighteen and then I want to enlist. If I enlist in this country +I'll have to spend a whole lot of time in camp, and maybe in the end I +wouldn't get sent to the firing line at all. There's lots of 'em won't +even get across. If they find you've got good handwriting or maybe some +little thing like that, they'll keep you here driving an army wagon or +something. If I go on a transport I can give it up at either port. It's +mostly going over that the fellers are kept busy anyway; coming back +they don't need them. I found that out before. They'll give you a +release there if you want to join the army. So if I keep going back and +forth till my birthday, then maybe I could hike it through France and +join Pershing's army. I'd rather be trained over there, 'cause then I'm +nearer the front. You don't think that's sort of cheating the +government, do you?" he added. + +Mr. Burton laughed. "I don't think the government will object to that +sort of cheating," he said. + +"I read about a feller that joined in France, so I know you can do it. +You see, it cuts out a lot of red tape, and I'd kind of like hiking it +alone--ever since I was a scout I've felt that way." + +"Once a scout, always a scout," smiled Mr. Burton, using a phrase of +which he was very fond and which Tom had learned from him; "and it +wouldn't be Tom Slade if he didn't go about things in a way of his own, +eh, Tom? Well, good luck to you." + +Tom went out and in his exuberance he showed Mr. Conne's letter to +Margaret Ellison, who also worked in Temple Camp office. + +"It's splendid," she said, "and as soon as you _know_ you're going I'm +going to hang a service flag in the window." + +"You can't hang out a service flag for a feller that's working on a +transport," Tom said. "He isn't in regular military service. When I'm +enlisted I'll let you know." + +"You must be sure to write." + +Tom promised and was delighted. So great was his elation, indeed, that +on his way home to his room that evening he went through Terrace Avenue +again, to see how the Red Cross women were getting on in their new +quarters. + +Mary Temple received him in a regular nurse's costume, which made Tom +almost wish that he were lying wounded on some battle-field. She was +delighted at his good news, and, "Oh, we had such a funny man here just +after you left," she said. "Mother thinks he must have been insane. He +said he came to read the gas-meter, so I took him down into the cellar +and the gas-meter had been taken away. Wouldn't you think the gas +company would have known that? Then he said he would stay in the cellar +and inspect the pipes." + +"Did you let him?" Tom asked. + +"I certainly did _not_! With all our stuff down there? When he saw I +intended to stay down as long as he did, he went right up. Do you think +he wanted to steal some of our membership buttons?" + +Tom shrugged his shoulders thoughtfully. He was glad the next day was +Saturday. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HE GETS A JOB AND MEETS "FRENCHY" + + +Tom found Mr. Conne poring over a scrapbook filled with cards containing +finger-prints. His unlighted cigar was cocked up in the corner of his +mouth like a flag-pole from a window, just the same as when Tom had seen +him last. It almost seemed as if it must be the very same cigar. He +greeted Tom cordially. + +"So they didn't manage to sink my old chum, Sherlock Nobody Holmes, eh? +Tommy, my boy, how are you?" + +"Did the spy get rescued?" Tom asked, as the long hand-shake ended. + +"Nope. Went down. But we nabbed a couple of his accomplices through his +papers." + +"I got a new mystery," said Tom in his customary blunt manner. "I was +going to give these papers to my boss, but when I got your letter I +decided I'd give 'em to you." + +He told the detective all about Adolf Schmitt and of how he had +discovered the papers in the chimney. + +"You say the place had already been searched?" Mr. Conne asked. + +"Yes, but I s'pose maybe they were in a hurry and had other things to +think about, maybe. A man came there again just the other day, too, and +said he wanted to read the gas-meter. But he looked all 'round the +cellar." + +"Hmm," Mr. Conne said dryly. "Tom, if you don't look out you'll make a +detective one of these days. I see you've got the same old wide-awake +pair of eyes as ever." + +"I learned about deducing when I was in the scouts," said Tom. "They +always made fun of me for it--the fellers did. Once I deduced an +aeroplane landed in a big field because the grass was kind of dragged, +but afterwards I found the fellers had made tracks there with an old +baby carriage just to fool me. Sometimes one thing kind of tells you +another, sort of." + +"Well, whenever you see something that you think tells you anything, +Tommy, you just follow it up and never mind about folks laughing. I +shouldn't wonder if you've made a haul here." + +"There was one of 'em that interested me specially," ventured Tom; "the +one about motors." + +Mr. Conne glanced over the papers again. "Hmm," said he, "I dare say +that's the least important of the lot--sort of crack-brained." + +Tom felt squelched. + +"Well, anyway, they'll all be taken care of," Mr. Conne said +conclusively, as he stuffed the papers in his pocket. + +Tom could have wished that he might share in the further developments +connected with those interesting papers. But, however important Mr. +Conne considered them, he put the matter temporarily aside in the +interest of Tom's proposed job. + +"I just happened to think of you," he said, as he took his hat and coat, +"when I was talking with the steward of the _Montauk_. He was saying +they were short-handed. Come along, now, and we'll go and see about it." + +Mr. Conne's mind seemed full of other things as he hurried along the +street with Tom after him. On the ferryboat, as they crossed to Hoboken, +he was more sociable. + +"Don't think any more about those letters now," he said. "The proper +authorities will look after them." + +"Yes, sir." + +"And whatever they set you to doing, put your mind on your work first +of all. Keep your eyes and ears open--there's no law against that--but +do your work. It's only in dime novels that youngsters like you are +generals and captains and famous detectives." + +"Yes, sir," said Tom. + +"What I mean is, don't get any crazy notions in your head. You may land +in the Secret Service yet. But meanwhile keep your feet on the earth--or +the ship. Get me?" + +Tom was sensible enough to know that this was good advice. + +"Your finding these letters was clever. If there are any spies in the +camps they'll be rounded up double quick. As for spy work at sea, I'll +tell you this, though you mustn't mention it, there are government +sleuths on all the ships--most of them working as hands." + +"Yes, sir," said Tom. + +"I'm going across on a fast ship to-morrow myself," continued Mr. Conne, +greatly to Tom's surprise. "I'll be in Liverpool and London and probably +in France before you get there. There's a bare possibility of you seeing +me over there." + +"I hope I do," said Tom. + +The transport _Montauk_ was one of the many privately owned steamers +taken over into government service, and Tom soon learned that outside +the steward's department nearly all the positions on board were filled +by naval men. Mr. Conne presented him to the steward, saying that Tom +had made a trip on a munition carrier, and disappeared in a great hurry. + +Tom could not help feeling that he was one of the least important things +among Mr. Conne's multitudinous interests, and it must be confessed that +he felt just a little chagrined at finding himself disposed of with so +little ceremony. + +But, if he had only known it, this good friend who stood so high in that +most fascinating department of all Uncle Sam's departmental family, had +borne him in mind more than he had encouraged Tom to think, and he had +previously spoken words of praise to the steward, which now had their +effect in Tom's allotment to his humble duties. + +He was, in a word, given the best position to be had among the +unskilled, non-naval force and became presently the envy of every +youngster on board. This was the exalted post of captain's mess boy, a +place of honor and preferment which gave him free entrance to that holy +of holies, "the bridge," where young naval officers marched back and +forth, and where the captain dined in solitary state, save for Tom's own +presence. + +Now and then, in the course of that eventful trip, Tom looked enviously +at the young wireless operators, and more particularly at the marine +signalers, who moved their arms with such jerky and mechanical precision +and sometimes, perhaps, he thought wistfully of certain fortunate young +heroes of fiction who made bounding leaps to the top of the ladder of +fame. + +But he did his work cheerfully and well and became a favorite on board, +for his duties gave him the freedom of all the decks. He was the +captain's mess boy and could go anywhere. + +Indeed, with one person he became a favorite even before the vessel +started. + +It was well on toward dusk of the third day and he was beginning to +think they would never sail, when suddenly he heard a tramp, tramp, on +the pier and up the gangplank, and before he realized it the soldiers +swarmed over the deck, their tin plates and cups jangling at their +sides. They must have come through the adjoining ferry house and across +a low roof without touching the street at all, for they appeared as if +by magic and no one seemed to know how they had got there. + +Their arrival was accompanied by much banter and horseplay among +themselves, interspersed with questions to the ship's people, few of +which could be answered. + +"Hey, pal, where are we going?" + +"Where do we go from here, kiddo?" + +"Say, what's the next stop for this jitney?" + + "We don't know where we're going, + but we're on our way," + +someone piped up. + +"We're going to Berlin," one shouted. + +The fact that no one gave them any information did not appear to +discourage them. + +"When do we eat?" one wanted to know. + +Tom saw no reason why he should not answer that, so he said to those +crowded nearest to him, "In about half an hour." + +"G-o-o-d-ni-ight!" + +"When are we going to start? Who's running this camp anyway?" + +"Go and tell the engineer we're here and he can start off." + +"Fares, please. Ding ding!" + +"Gimme me a transfer to Berlin." + +And so it went. They sprawled about on the hatches, perched upon the +rail, leaned in groups against the vent pipes; they covered the ship +like a great brown blanket. They wrestled with each other, knocked each +other about, shouted gibberish intended for French, talked about _Kaiser +Bill_, and mixed things up generally. + +At last they were ordered into line and marched slowly through the +galley where their plates and cups were filled and a butcher was kept +busy demolishing large portions of a cow. They sprawled about anywhere +they pleased, eating. + +To Tom it was like a scout picnic on a mammoth scale. Here and there was +noticeable a glum, bewildered face, but for the most part the soldiers +(drafted or otherwise) seemed bent on having the time of their lives. It +could not be said that they were without patriotism, but their one +thought now seemed to be to make merry. Tom's customary stolidness +disappeared in the face of this great mirthful drive and he sat on the +edge of the hatch, his white jacket conspicuous by contrast, and smiled +broadly. + +He wondered whether any other country in the world could produce such a +slangy, jollying, devil-may-care host as these vociferous American +soldiers. How he longed to be one of them! + +A slim young soldier elbowed his way through the throng and, supper in +hand, seated himself on the hatch beside Tom. He had the smallest +possible mustache, with pointed ends, and his demeanor was gentlemanly +and friendly. Even his way of stirring his coffee seemed different from +the rough and tumble fashion of the others. + +"These are _stirring_ times, hey, Frenchy?" a soldier said. + +"Yess--zat is verry good--_stirring times_," the young fellow answered, +in appreciation of the joke. Then, turning to Tom, he said, "Zis is ze +Bartholdi statue, yess? I am from ze West." + +"That's the Statue of Liberty," said Tom. "You'll see it better when we +pass it." + +"Ah, yess! zis is ze first; I haf' nevaire seen. I zank you." + +"Do you know why the Statue of Liberty looks so sad, Frenchy?" a soldier +asked. "Because she's facing Brooklyn." + +"Do you know why she's got her arm up?" another called. + +Frenchy was puzzled. + +"She represents the American woman hanging onto a strap in the subway." + +"Don't let them jolly you, Frenchy," another said. + +Frenchy, a little bewildered, laughed good-humoredly as the bantering +throng plied him with absurdities. + +"Are you French?" Tom asked, as some new victim diverted the attention +of the boys. + +"Ah, no! I am Americ'." + +"But you were born in France?" + +"Yess--zey call it Zhermany, but it is France! I take ze coat from you. +Still it is yours. Am I right? I am born in Alsace. Zat is France!" + +"Doncher believe him, kiddo!" said a soldier. "He was born in Germany. +Look on the map." + +"He's a German spy, Whitey; look out for him." + +"Alsace--ziss is France!" said Frenchy fervently. + +"_Ziss_ is the United States," shouted a soldier derisively. + +"_Ziss_ is Hoboken!" chimed in another. + +"Vive la Hoboken!" shrieked a third. + +Tom thought he had never laughed so much in all his life. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HE MAKES A DISCOVERY AND RECEIVES A SHOCK + + +Soon after dusk the soldiers were ordered to throw away their "smokes" +and either go below or lie flat upon the decks. Officers patrolled the +rail while others strolled among the boys and reminded the unruly and +forgetful not to raise themselves, and soon the big ship, with its +crowding khaki-clad cargo, was moving down the stream--on its way to +"can the Kaiser." Then even the patrol was discontinued. + +A crowded ferryboat paused in its passage to give the great gray +transport the right of way, and the throng of commuters upon its deck +saw nothing as they looked up but one or two white-jacketed figures +moving about. + +Tom thought the ship was off, but after fifteen or twenty minutes the +throb of the engines ceased and he heard the clank, clank of the anchor +winches. A little distant from the ship tiny green, red and white lights +appeared and disappeared and were answered by other colored lights from +high up in the rigging of the _Montauk_. Other lights appeared in other +directions and were answered by still others, changing rapidly. Tom +thought that he could distinguish a dark outline below certain of these +lights. The whole business seemed weird and mysterious. + +In the morning he looked from the rail at a sight which astonished and +thrilled him. No sign of land was there to be seen. Steaming abreast of +the _Montauk_ and perhaps a couple of hundred yards from her, was a +great ship with soldiers crowding at her rail waving caps and shouting, +their voices singularly crisp and clear across the waters. Beyond her +and still abreast was another great ship, the surging army upon her +decks reduced to a brown mass in the distance. And far off on either +side of this flotilla of three, and before it and behind it, was a +sprightly little destroyer, moving this way and that, like a dog jumping +about his master. + +Upon the nearest vessel a naval signaler was semaphoring to the +_Montauk_--his movements jerky, clean-cut, perfect. Enviously Tom +watched him, thinking of his own semaphore work at Temple Camp. He read +the message easily; it was something about how many knots the ship +could make in a steady run of six hundred miles. The _Montauk_ answered +that she could make twenty-eight knots and keep it up for nineteen +hours. The other signaler seemed to be relaying this to the transport +beyond, which in turn signaled the destroyer on that side. Then there +was signaling between the _Montauk_ and her own neighbor destroyer about +sailing formation in the danger zone. + +It was almost like A B C to Tom, but he remembered Mr. Conne's good +advice and resolved not to concern himself with matters outside his own +little sphere of duty. But a few days later he made a discovery which +turned his thoughts again to Adolf Schmitt's cellar and to spies. + +He had piled the captain's breakfast dishes, made his weather memoranda +from the barometer for posting in the main saloon, and was dusting the +captain's table, when he chanced to notice the framed picture of a ship +on the cabin wall. He had seen it before, but now he noticed the tiny +name, scarcely decipherable, upon its bow, _Christopher Colon_. + +So that was the ship on which somebody or other known to the fugitive, +Adolf Schmitt, had thought of sailing in order to carry certain +information to Germany. As Tom gazed curiously at this picture he +thought of a certain phrase in that strange letter, _"Sure, I could tend +to the other matter too--it's the same idea as a periscope."_ + +Yet Mr. Conne's sensible advice would probably have prevailed and Tom +would have put these sinister things out of his thoughts, but meeting +one of the steward's boys upon the deck shortly afterward he said, +"There's a picture of a ship, the _Christopher Colon_----" + +"That's this ship," interrupted the steward's boy. "They don't say much +about those things. It's hard to find out anything. Nobody except these +navy guys know about how many ships are taken over for transports. But I +saw a couple of spoons in the dining saloon with that name on them. And +sometimes you can make it out under the fresh paint on the life +preservers and things. Uncle Sam's some foxy old guy." + +Tom was so surprised that he stood stark still and stared as the boy +hurried along about his duties. Upon the _Montauk's_ nearest neighbor +the naval signalman was semaphoring, and he watched abstractedly. It was +something about camouflage maneuvering in the zone. Tom took a certain +pride in being able to read it. Far off, beyond the other great ships, +a sprightly little destroyer cut a zigzag course, as if practicing. The +sky was clear and blue. As Tom watched, a young fellow in a sailor's +suit hurried by, working his way among the throng of soldiers. +Presently, Frenchy strolled past talking volubly to another soldier, and +waving his cigarette gracefully in accompaniment. A naval quartermaster +leaned against the rail, chatting with a red-faced man with +spectacles--the chief engineer, Tom thought. + +Who were Secret Service men and who were not? thought Tom. Who was a spy +and who was not? Perhaps some one who brushed past him carried in his +pockets (or more likely in the soles of his shoes) the designs of the +Liberty Motor. Perhaps some one had the same thought about _him_. What a +dreadful thing to be suspected of! A spy! + +That puzzling phrase came into his mind again: _Sure, I could tend to +the other matter too--it's the same idea as a periscope._ What did that +mean? So the _Montauk_ was the _Christopher Colon_.... + +He was roused out of his abstraction by the fervid, jerky voice of +Frenchy, talking about Alsace. Alsace was a part of Germany, whatever +Frenchy might say.... Again Tom bethought him of Mr. Conne's very wise +advice, and he went to the main saloon and posted the weather +prediction. + +That same day something happened which shocked him and gave him an +unpleasant feeling of loneliness. Mr. Wessel, the steward, died suddenly +of heart failure. He was Tom's immediate superior and in a way his +friend. He, and he alone, had received Tom's recommendation from Mr. +Conne, and knew something of him. He had given Tom that enviable place +as captain's boy, and throughout these few days had treated him with a +kind of pleasant familiarity. + +He stood by as the army chaplain read the simple burial service, while +four soldiers held the rough, weighted casket upon the rail; and he saw +it go down with a splash and disappear in the mysterious, fathomless +ocean. It affected him more than the loss of a life by torpedoing or +drowning could have done and left him solemn and thoughtful and with a +deep sense of loss. + +Just before dark they semaphored over from the _Dorrilton_ that they +could spare the second steward for duty on the _Montauk_. Tom mentioned +this to one of the deck stewards, and to his surprise and +consternation, an officer came to him a little later and asked him how +he knew it. + +"I can read semaphoring," said Tom. "I used to be in the Boy Scouts." + +The officer looked at him sharply and said, "Well, you'd better learn to +keep your mouth shut. This is no place for amateurs and Boy Scouts to +practice their games." + +"Y-yes, sir," said Tom, greatly frightened. + +The next morning, when the sea was quieter, they rowed his new boss over +in a small boat. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HE HEARS ABOUT ALSACE AND RECEIVES A PRESENT + + +That was a good lesson for Tom and a practical demonstration of the +wisdom of Mr. Conne's advice. Not that he had exactly gone outside his +duties to indulge his appetite for adventure, but he had had a good +scare which reminded him what a suspicious and particular old gentleman +Uncle Sam is in wartime. + +The officer, who had thus frightened him and, in Tom's opinion, cast a +slur upon the Scouts, made matters worse by scrutinizing him (or so he +fancied) whenever they met upon the deck. But that was all there was to +it, and the captain's mess boy did his allotted tasks each day, and +stood for no end of jollying from the soldiers, who called him "Whitey" +and "Eats," because he carried the captain's tray back and forth. + +This banter he shared with Frenchy, who took it as good-humoredly as Tom +himself, when he understood it, and when he didn't Tom explained it to +him. + +"Ziss--how you call--_can_ ze Kaiser?" he would inquire politely. + +"That means putting him in a tin can," said Tom. + +"Ze tin can? Ze--how you call--wipe ze floor wiz him?" + +"They both mean the same thing," said Tom. "They mean beating him--good +and thorough--kind of." + +Frenchy did not seem to understand but he would wave his hands and say +with great vehemence, "Ah, ze Kaiser, he must be defeat! Ze wretch!" + +Frenchy's name was Armande Lateur. He was an American by adoption and +though he had spent much time among the people of his own nationality in +Canada, he was strong for Uncle Sam with a pleasant, lingering fondness +for the region of the "blue Alsatian mountains," whence he had come. + +It was from Frenchy that Tom learned much which (if he had only known +it) was to serve him well in the perilous days to come. + +The day before they entered the danger zone the two, secure for a +little while from the mirthful artillery fire of the soldiers, had a +little chat which Tom was destined long to remember. + +They were sitting at dusk in the doorway of the unoccupied guardhouse +which ordinarily was the second cabin smoking-room. + +"Alsace-Lorraine is part of Germany," said Tom, his heavy manner of +talking contrasting strangely with Frenchy's excitability. "So you were +a German citizen before you got to be an American; and your people over +there must be German citizens." + +"Zey are Zherman _slaves_--yess! Citizens--no! See! When still I am a +leetle boy, I must learn ze Zherman. I must go to ze Zherman school. My +pappa have to pay fine when hees cheeldren speak ze French. My little +seester when she sing ze Marsellaise--she must go t'ree days to ze +Zherman zhail!" + +"You mean to prison?" Tom asked. "Just for singing the Marsellaise! Why, +the hand-organs play that where I live!" + +"Ah, yess--Americ'! In Alsace, even before ze war--you sing ze +Marsellaise, t'ree days you go to ze zhail. You haf' a book printed in +ze French--feefty marks you must pay!" He waived his cigarette, as if +it might have been a deadly sword, and hurled it over the rail. + +"After Germany took Alsace-Lorraine away from France," said Tom, +unmoved, "and began treating the French people that way, I should think +lots of 'em would have moved to France." + +"Many--yess; but some, no. My pappa had a veenyard. Many years ziss +veenyard is owned by my people--my anceestors. Even ze village is name +for my family--Lateur. You know ze Franco-Prussian War--when Zhermany +take Alsace-Lorraine--yess?" + +"Yes," said Tom. + +"My pappa fight for France. Hees arm he lose. When it is over and Alsace +is lost, he haf' lost more than hees arm. Hees spirit! Where can he go? +Away from ze veenyard? Here he hass lived--always." + +"I understand," said Tom. + +"Yess," said Frenchy with great satisfaction. "Zat is how eet is--you +will understand. My pappa cannot go. Zis is hees _home_. So he +stay--stay under ze Zhermans. Ah! For everything, _everything_, we must +pay ze tax. Five hundred soldiers, zey keep, _always_--in zis little +village--and only seven hundred people. Ziss is ze way. Ugh! Even ze +name zey change--Dundgart! Ugh!" + +"I don't like it as well as Lethure," said matter-of-fact Tom. + +Frenchy laughed at Tom's pronunciation. "Zis is how you say--Le-teur. +See? I will teach you ze French." + +"How did you happen to come to America?" Tom asked. + +"Ah! I will tell you," Frenchy said, as a grim, dangerous look gathered +in his eyes. "You are--how many years, my frien'!" + +"I'm seventeen," said Tom. + +"One cannot tell wiz ze Americans," Frenchy explained. "Zey grow so +queeck--so beeg. In Europe, zey haf' nevaire seen anyzing like zis--zis +army," he added, indicating with a sweeping wave of his hand the groups +of lolling, joking soldiers. + +"They make fun of you a lot, don't they?" + +"Ah, zat I do not mind." + +"Maybe that's why they all like you." + +"I will tell you," said Frenchy, reverting to Tom's previous question. +"I am zhust ze same age as you--sefenteen--when zey throw my seester in +ze zhail because she sing ze Marsellaise. Zat I cannot stand! You +see?--When ze soldiers--fat Zhermans, ugh! When zey come for her, I +strike zis fat one--here--so." + +"I'm glad you did," said Tom. + +"Hees eye I cut open, _so_. Wiz my fist--zhust boy's fist, but so +sharp." + +"I don't blame you," said Tom. + +"So zen I must flee. Even to be rude to ze Zherman soldier--zis is +crime. So I come to Americ'. Zey are looking for me, but I go by night, +I sleep in ze haystack--zis I show. (He exhibited a little iron button +with nothing whatever upon it.) You see? Zis is--what you +call--talisman. Yess? + +"So I come to Epinal across ze border, through ze pass in ze mountains. +I am free! I go to my uncle in Canada who is agent to our wines. Zen I +come to Chicago, where I haf' other uncle--also agent. Now I go to +France wiz ze Americans to take Alsace back. What should I care if they +laugh at me? We go to take Alsace back! Alsace!--Listen--I will tell +you! + + "Vive la France! + A bas la Prusse! + D'Schwowe mien + Zuem Elsass 'nuess! + +See if you can say zis," he smiled. + +Tom shook his head. + +"I will tell you--see. + + "Long live France! + Down with Prussia! + The Boches must + Get out of Alsace!" + +"It must make you feel good after all that to go back now and make them +give up Alsace," said Tom, his stolid nature moved by the young fellow's +enthusiasm. "I'd like it if I'd been with you when you escaped and ran +away like that. I like long hikes and adventures and things, anyway. It +must be a long time since you saw your people." + +"Saw! Even I haf' not _heard_ for t'ree year. Eight years ago I fled +away. Even before America is in ze war I haf' no letters. Ze Zhermans +tear zem up! Ah, no matter. When it is all over and ze boundary line is +back at ze Rhine again--zen I will see zem. My pappa, my moother, my +seester Florette----" + +His eyes glistened and he paused. + +"I go wiz Uncle Sam! My seester will sing ze Marsellaise!" + +"Yes," said Tom. "She can sing it all she wants." + +"If zey are not yet killed," Frenchy added, looking intently out upon +the ocean. + +"I kind of feel that they're not," said Tom simply. "Sometimes I have +feelings like that and they usually come out true." + +Frenchy looked suddenly at him, then embraced him. "See, I will give you +ziss," he said, handing Tom the little iron button. "I haf' two--see? I +will tell you about zis," he added, drawing close and holding it so that +Tom could see. "It is made from ze cannon in my pappa's regiment. Zis is +when Alsace and Lorraine were lost--you see? Zey swear zey would win or +die together--and so zey all die--except seventy. So zese men, zey swear +zey will stand by each other, forever--zese seventy. You see? Even in +poor Alsace--and in Lorraine. So zese, ze haf' make from a piece of ze +cannon. You see? If once you can get across ze Zherman lines into +Alsace, zis will find you friends and shelter. Ah, but you must be +careful. You see? You must watch for zis button and when you see--zen +you can show zis. You will know ze person who wears ze button is +French--man, woman, peasant, child. Ze Zhermans do not know. Zey are +fine spies, fine sneaks! But zis zey do not know. You see?" + +It was as much to please the generous Frenchy as for any other reason +(though, to be sure, he was glad to have it) that Tom took the little +button and put it in his pocket. + +"Ze iron cross--you know zat?" + +"I've heard about it," said Tom. + +"Zat means murder, savagery, death! Zis little button means friendship, +help. Ze Zhermans do not know. You take this for--what you call--lucky +piece?" + +"I'll always keep it," said Tom, little dreaming what it would mean to +him. + +An authoritative voice was heard and they saw the soldiers throwing away +their cigars and cigarettes and emptying their pipes against the rail. +At the same time the electric light in the converted guard house was +extinguished and an officer came along calling something into each of +the staterooms along the promenade tier. They were entering the danger +zone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HE BECOMES VERY PROUD, AND ALSO VERY MUCH FRIGHTENED + + +Tom's talk with Frenchy left him feeling very proud that he was American +born. He had that advantage over the Frenchman, he thought, even though +Frenchy had escaped through a pass in the Alsatian mountains and made +such an adventurous flight. + +When Frenchy had spoken of the American soldiers Tom felt especially +proud. He was glad that all his people so far as he knew anything about +them, were good out-and-out Yankees. Even his poor worthless father had +been a great patriot, and played the _Star-Spangled Banner_ on his old +accordion when he ought to have been at work. + +Then there was poor old one-armed Uncle Job Slade who used to get drunk, +but he had told Tom about "them confounded rebels and traitors" of +Lincoln's time, and when he had died in the Soldiers' Home they had +buried him with the Stars and Stripes draped over his coffin. + +He was sorry now that he had not mentioned these things when gruff, +well-meaning Pete Connigan had spoken disparagingly of the Slades. + +He was glad he was not an adopted American like Frenchy, but that all +his family had been Americans as far back as he knew. He was proud to +"belong" to a country that other people wanted to "join"--that _he_ had +never had to join. And as he stood at the rail when his duties were +finished that same night and gazed off across the black, rough ocean, he +made up his mind that after this when he heard slurs cast upon his +father and his uncle, instead of feeling ashamed he would defend them, +and tell of the good things which he knew about them. + +He stood there at the rail, quite alone, thinking. The night was very +dark and the sea was rough. Not a light was to be seen upon the ship. + +It occurred to him that it might be better for him not to stand there +with his white steward's jacket on. He recalled how, up at Temple Camp, +one could see the white tents very clearly all the way across the lake. + +There was no rule about it, apparently, but sometimes, when people +forgot to make a good rule, Tom made it for them. So now he went down to +his little stateroom (the captain's mess boy had a tiny stateroom to +himself) and put on a dark coat. + +The second cabin dining saloon and dining room, which were below decks +and had no outside ports, were crowded with soldiers, playing cards and +checkers, and they did not fail to "josh" Whitey as he passed through. +Frenchy was there and he waved pleasantly to Tom. + +"Going to get out and walk, Whitey?" a soldier called. "I see you've got +your street clothes on." + +"I thought maybe the white would be too easy to see," Tom answered. + +"Wise guy!" someone commented. + +Reaching the main deck he edged his way along between the narrow +passageway and the washroom to a secluded spot astern. He liked this +place because it was so lonesome and unfrequented and because he could +hear the whir and splash of the great propellers directly beneath him as +each big roller lifted the after part of the vessel out of the water. +Here he could think about Bridgeboro and Temple Camp, and Roy Blakeley +and the other scouts, and of how proud he was that he was an American +through and through, and of what he was going to say to people after +this when they called his father a "no good" and Uncle Job a "rummy." He +was glad he had thought about that, for back in Bridgeboro people were +always saying something. + +Suddenly a stern, authoritative voice spoke just behind him. "What are +you doing here?" + +In the heavy darkness Tom could just make out that the figure was in +khaki and he thought it was the uniform of an officer. + +"I ain't doing anything," he said. + +"What did you come here for?" the voice demanded sternly. + +"I--I don' know," stammered Tom, thoroughly frightened. + +Quickly, deftly, the man slapped his clothing in the vicinity of his +pockets. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. + +"I'm captain's mess boy." + +Laying his hand on Tom's shoulder, he marched him into the saloon and to +the head of the companionway where the dim light from the passageway +below enabled him to get a better sight of the boy. Tom was all of a +tremor as the officer scrutinized him. + +"You're the fellow that read the semaphore message, aren't you?" the +officer demanded. + +"Y-yes, sir, but I didn't notice them any more since I found out I +shouldn't." Then he mustered courage to add, "I only went back there +because it was dark and lonely, kind of. I was thinking about where I +live and things----" + +The officer scrutinized him curiously for a moment and apparently was +satisfied, for he only added, speaking rather harshly, "You'd better be +careful where you go at night and keep away from the ropes." With this +he wheeled about and strode away. + +For a minute or two Tom stood rooted to the spot where he stood, his +heart pounding in his breast. He would not have been afraid of a whole +regiment of Germans and he would probably have retained his stolid +demeanor if the vessel had been sinking, but this little encounter +frightened him. He wished that he had had the presence of mind to tell +the officer why he had doffed his white jacket, and he wished that he +had had the courage to mention how his Uncle Job had fought at +Gettysburg and been buried with the flag over his coffin. Those things +might have impressed the officer. + +As he lay in his berth that night, his feeling of fright passed away +and he was overcome with a feeling of humiliation. That _he_, Tom Slade, +who had been a scout of the scouts, who had worked for the Colors, whose +whole family history had been one of loyalty and patriotism, should be +even---- No, of course, he had not been actually _suspected_ of anything, +and he knew that the government had to be very watchful and careful, +but---- Well, he felt ashamed and humiliated, that's all. + +He made up his mind that if he should see that officer again, and he did +not look too forbidding, he would mention how his mother had taught him +to sing _America_, how his father had played the _Star-Spangled Banner_ +on his old accordion and how Uncle Job had died in the Soldiers' Home. +Those were about the only good things he could remember about his father +and Uncle Job, but weren't they enough? + +And since the government was so very particular, Tom got up and hung his +coat across the porthole, though no clink of light could possibly have +escaped, for his little stateroom was as dark as pitch and even when he +opened his door there was only the dim light from the inner passage. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HE HEARS SOME NEWS AND IS CONFIDENTIAL WITH FRENCHY + + +The next morning there was a rumor. Somebody told somebody who told +somebody else who told a deck steward who told Tom that a couple of men +had gone very stealthily along the dimly lighted passageway outside the +forward staterooms below, looking for a lighted stateroom. + +"There was never so much as a glint," the deck steward volunteered. + +Instantly Tom thought of his experience of the previous night and there +arose in his mind also certain passages from one of the letters he had +turned over to Mr. Conne. + +Acting on his benefactor's very sensible advice, he had not allowed his +mind to dwell upon those mysterious things which were altogether outside +his humble sphere. But now he could not help recalling that this ship +had been the _Christopher Colon_ on which somebody or other had thought +he might be able to sail. Well, in any event, the ship's people had +those things in hand, and after his disturbing experience of the night +before, he would not dare speak to one of his superiors about what was +in his mind. But he was greatly interested in this whispered news. + +"The electric lights are turned off in the staterooms, anyway," he said. + +"Yes, but that bunch is always smoking--them engineers," said the deck +steward, "and a chap would naturally stick his head out of the port so +as not to get the room full of smoke. All he'd have to do is drop his +smoke in the ocean if anyone happened along. It's been done more'n +once." + +"Then you don't think it was spies they suspected or--anything like +that?" + +The deck steward, who was an old hand, hunched his shoulders. "Maybe, +and maybe not. You can't drum it into some men that a cigarette is like +a searchlight on the ocean." + +"Yet the destroyers signal at night--even here in the zone," Tom said. + +"Not much--only when it's necessary. And the transports don't answer. +It's just a little brown kind of light, too. They say the tin fish[1] +can't make it out at all." + +"Is that where the engineers sleep--down there?" Tom asked. + +"The chief and the first assistants up on deck; third and fourth and +head fireman are down there, and two electricians. The carpenter's +there, too." + +"Well, they didn't find anything, anyway," said Tom. "Is that all they +did?" + +"Did? They opened every room on their way back and searched every nook +and corner. Not so much as a pipe or a cigarette or a cigar could they +find--nor a whiff of smoke neither. Besides, the port windows were +locked shut and the steward had the keys! They're takin' no chances in +the zone, you can bet." + +"I was thinking, if it was a spy or anyone like that, he might have had +a flashlight," said Tom, "and thrown it out if he heard anyone coming." + +"With the glass locked shut?" + +"No, that spoils it," said Tom. + +"They searched every bloomin' one of 'em," said the deck steward. +"Charlie was two hours making up the berths again after the way they +threw things around. But nothing doing. They found a mess plate with a +little black spot on it and he said they thought it might have been +from a match-end being laid there, but I heard they told the captain +there was nothing wrong down there." + +"What made them think there was?" asked Tom. + +The deck steward shrugged his shoulders. "You can search _me_. But +they're mighty particular, huh?" + +He went about his duties, leaving Tom to ponder on this interesting +news, and though admittedly nothing had come of that stealthy raid which +had exposed neither rule breakers nor spies, still Tom thought about it +all day, more or less, and he was glad that Uncle Sam was so watchful +and thorough. It made him realize, all the more, how absurd and +preposterous it would be for him, the captain's mess boy, to concern +himself or ask questions or say anything about serious matters which +were none of his business. + +All day long they ran a zigzag course, taking a long cut to France, as +Pete Connigan would have said, the general tension relieved by the +emergency drills, manning the boats and so forth. + +In the afternoon hours of respite from his duties he met Frenchy, whose +patience had been a little tried by some of Uncle Sam's crack jolliers, +and they sat down on the top step of a companionway and talked. + +"Zis I cannot bear!" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "To be called ze +Hun! Ugh!" + +"They're only kidding you," said Tom; "fooling with you." + +"I do not like it--no!" + +"But if you hadn't become an American before the war," said Tom, "you +couldn't have enlisted on our side because you really were a German--a +German citizen--weren't you?" + +"Subject, yess! Citizen, no! All will be changed. Alsace will be France +again! We go to win her back! Yess?" + +"Yes," said Tom. "I only meant you belonged to Germany because you +couldn't help it." + +"You are a lucky boy," Frenchy said earnestly. "Zare is no--what you +say?--Mix-up; Zhermany, France, America--no. You are all _American_!" + +"I got to remember that," said Tom simply. "I know some rich fellers +home where I live. They let me join their scout troop, so I got to know +'em. One feller's name is Van Arlen. His father was born in Holland. +They got two automobiles and a lot of servants and things. But anyway my +father was born in the United States--that's one thing." + +"Ah," said Frenchy, enthusiastically, "zat is ever'ting! You are fine +boy." + +His expression was so generous, so pleasant, that Tom could not help +saying, "I like France, too." + +"Listen, I will tell you," said Frenchy, laughing. "It is ze old saying, +'Ever' man hass two countries; hees own and France!' You see?" + +In the warmth of Frenchy's generous admiration Tom opened up and said +more than he had meant to say--more than he ever had said to anyone. + +"So I got to be proud of it, anyway," he said, in his honest, blunt +fashion. "Maybe you won't understand, but one thing makes me like to go +away from Bridgeboro, kind of, is the way people say things about my +folks. They don't do it on purpose--mostly. But anyway, all the fathers +of the fellows I know, they call them Mr. Blakeley and Mr. Harris, and +like that. But they always called my father Bill Slade. I didn't ever +hear anybody call him Mister. But anyway, he was born in the United +States--that's one sure thing. And so was my grandfather and my +grandmother, too. Once my father licked me because I forgot to hang out +the flag on Decoration Day. That shows he was patriotic, doesn't it? The +other day I was going to tell you about my uncle but I forgot to. He was +in the Civil War--he got his arm shot off. So I got a lot to be proud +about, anyway. Just because my father didn't get a job most--most of the +time----" + +"Ah!" vociferated Frenchy, clapping him on the shoulder. "You are +ze--how you say--_one_ fine boy!" + +Tom remained stolid, under this enthusiastic approval. He was thinking +how glad and proud he was that his father had licked him for forgetting +to hang out the flag. It had not been a licking exactly, but a beating +and kicking, but this part of it he did not remember. He was very proud +of his father for it. It was something to boast about. It showed that +the Slades---- + +"Yess, you are a fine boy!" said Frenchy again, clapping him on the +shoulder with such vehemence as to interrupt his train of thought. "Zey +must be fine people--all ze way back--to haf' such a boy. You see?" + +FOOTNOTE: +[1] Submarines. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HE SEES A STRANGE LIGHT AND GOES ON TIPTOE + + +Of course, it would have been expecting too much to suppose that the +boys in khaki would overlook Tom Slade any more than Frenchy would +escape them, and "Whitey" was the bull's-eye for a good deal of target +practice in the way of jollying. It got circulated about that Whitey had +a bug--a patriotic bug, particularly in regard to his family, and it was +whispered in his hearing as he came and went that his grandfather was +none other than the original Yankee Doodle. + +Of course, Tom's soberness increased this good-natured propensity of the +soldiers. + +"Hey, Whitey," they would call as he passed with the captain's tray, "I +hear you were born on the Fourth of July. How about that?" + +Or + +"Hey, Whitey, I hear your great grandfather was the fellow that put the +bunk in Bunker Hill!" + +But Tom did not mind; joking or no joking, they knew where he stood with +Uncle Sam and that was enough for him. + +Sometimes they would vary their tune and pleasantly chide him with +being a secret agent of the Kaiser, "Baron von Slade," and so on and so +on. He only smiled in that stolid way of his and went about his duties. +In his heart he was proud. Sometimes they would assume to be serious and +ply him with questions, and he would fall into their trap and proudly +tell about poor old Uncle Job and of how his father had licked him, by +way of proving the stanch Americanism of the Slades. + +In their hearts they all liked him; he seemed so "easy" and bluntly +honest, and his patriotism was so obvious and so sincere. + +"You're all right, Whitey," they would say. + +Then, suddenly, that thing happened which shocked and startled them with +all the force of a torpedo from a U-boat, and left them gasping. + +It happened that same night, and little did Tom Slade dream, as he went +along the deck in the darkening twilight, carrying the captain's empty +supper dishes down to the galley, of the dreadful thing which he would +face before that last night in the danger zone was over. + +He washed his hands, combed his hair, put on his dark coat, and went up +on deck for an hour or two which he could call his own. In the +companionway he passed his friend, the deck steward, talking with a +couple of soldiers, and as he squeezed past them he paused a moment to +listen. + +It was evidently another slice of the same gossip with which he had +regaled Tom earlier in the day and he was imparting it with a great air +of confidence to the interested soldiers. + +"Don't say I told you, but they had two of them in the quartermaster's +room, buzzing them. It's more'n rule breaking, _I_ think." + +"German agents, you mean?" + +The deck steward shrugged his shoulders in that mysterious way, as if he +could not take the responsibility of answering that question. + +"But they haven't got anything on 'em," he added. "The glass ports were +locked--they couldn't have thrown anything out. So there you are. The +captain thinks it was phosphorus and maybe he's right. It's a kind of a +light you sometimes see in the ocean." + +"Huh," said one of the soldiers. + +"It's fooled others before. So I guess there won't be any more about it. +Keep your mouths shut." + +Tom passed them and went out upon the deck. He did not venture near the +forbidden spot astern, but leaned against the rail amidships. He knew he +had the right to spend his time off on deck and he liked to be alone. +Now and then he glimpsed a little streak of gray as some apprehensive +person in a life belt disappeared in a companionway, driven in by the +cold and the rough sea. + +Presently, he was quite alone and he fell to thinking about home, as he +usually did when he was alone at night. He thought of his friend Roy +Blakeley and of the happy summers spent at Temple Camp; of the stalking +and tracking, and campfire yarns, and how they used to jolly him, just +as these soldiers jollied him, and call him "Sherlock Nobody Holmes" +just because he was interested in deduction and had "doped out" one or +two little things. + +One thing will suggest another, and from Temple Camp, with its long +messboard and its clamoring, hungry scouts, and the tin dishes heaped +with savory hunters' stew, his thoughts wandered back across the ocean +to a certain particular mess plate, right here on this very ship--a mess +plate with a little black stain on it, where someone might have laid a +burning match-end. + +He caught himself up and thought of Mr. Conne. But this was his time +off and he had the right to _think_ about anything he pleased. He could +not be reprimanded for just thinking. Nothing would tempt him to run the +risk of another encounter with one of those stern, brisk-speaking +officers, but he could _think_. + +And he wondered whether that black spot _had_ been made by a match-end. +The spot would show plainly, of course, for he knew how shiny and clean +mess plates were kept. Had he not done his part in scouring and rubbing +them down there in the galley? + +He wondered how the mess plate had happened to be in the stateroom, +anyway. Sherlock Nobody Holmes again! But the crew, as well as the +troops, carried their supper wherever they pleased to eat it. So there +was nothing so strange about that. If there had been, why, Uncle Sam's +all-seeing eye would not have missed it. + +He fell to thinking of Bridgeboro again. And he thought of Adolf Schmitt +and---- + +A phrase from one of those letters ran through his mind--_It's the same +idea as a periscope_. + +For a moment Tom Slade felt just as so often he had felt when he had +found an indistinct footprint along a woodland trail. _What_ was the +same idea as a periscope? What was a periscope, anyway? + +Why, a thing on a submarine by means of which you could look two ways at +once--you could look up through the ocean and across the ocean--all with +one look. + +He wondered whether Mr. Conne had noticed that rather puzzling phrase +and whether the people on this ship had seen that letter. Mr. Conne had +seemed to think that one the least important of the lot. Perhaps he had +just told the ship's people to look out for spies. And they would do +that anyway. The names of uniformed spies in the army cantonments--names +in black and white--that was the important thing--the big discovery. + +But Tom Slade was only a humble Sherlock Nobody Holmes and he couldn't +get that phrase out of his head. + +_It's the same idea as a periscope._ + +A periscope is a kind of a--a kind of a---- + +Tom's brow was knit, just as when he used carefully and anxiously to +move the grass away from an all but obliterated footprint, and his eyes +were half closed and keen. + +"I know what it is," he said to himself, suddenly. "It means how light +can be passed through a room even while the room is dark all the +time--kind of reflected--and you wouldn't have to use any match." + +He stood still, almost frightened at his own conclusion. The clean, +shiny mess plate and the phrase out of that letter seemed to fit +together like the sections of a picture puzzle. The black spot and the +match-end (if there was any match-end) meant just nothing at all. The +dim light out in the passageway down below hardly reached the dark +staterooms, but---- + +He could not remember just how it was down there, but he knew that in +the staterooms where the glass ports were locked (and that was the case +with all of the crews' quarters below) air was admitted by a slightly +opened panel transom over the door. + +What should he do? Go and tell an officer about his discovery? If it +_were_ a discovery that would be all very well. But after all, this was +only a--a kind of a _deduction_. And they might laugh at him. He had +always stood in awe of the officers and since last night he was mortally +afraid of them. If he told any of the soldiers or even the steward they +would only jolly him. He did not know exactly what he had better do. + +He made up his mind that he would go down through the passageway where +those under engineers and electricians slept and see how it looked down +there. He had been through there many times, but he thought that perhaps +he would notice some thing now which would help to prove his theory and +then perhaps they would listen to the captain's mess boy if he could +muster the courage to speak. + +He had just left the rail when he saw, some distance to starboard as it +seemed, and well forward of the ship, an infinitesimal bluish brown +spark. How he happened to notice it he did not know. "Once a scout, +always a scout," perhaps. In any event, it was only by fixing his eyes +intently upon it that he could keep it in sight. And even so, he lost it +after a few seconds. He tried to find it again, but quite in vain. It +had been about as conspicuous as a snowflake would have been in a glass +of milk. + +"Huh, if there's anyone on this ship can see _that_, he must be a peach. +Maybe up in the rigging you can see it better, though. If it's on the +destroyer, she's quite a ways ahead of us----" + +He squinted his eyes and, seeing a number of imaginary lights, decided +that perhaps the other had been imaginary too. He crossed the saloon, +went down the companionway and through the second class cabin +dining-room where the soldiers hailed him pleasantly, and, passing the +stokers' washroom, tiptoed along the dim, narrow passageway. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HE GOES BELOW AND GROPES IN THE DARK + + +There were half a dozen or more staterooms along this passage. At the +end of it was the steep, greasy flight of iron steps leading down into +the engine-rooms. Here, also, was a huge box with a hinged lid, filled +with cotton waste. It was customary for one going down here to take a +handful of this waste to protect his hands from the oily rail, and also +on coming up to wipe his hands with a fresh lot. The very atmosphere of +a ship's engine-room is oily. Here, also, were several fire-buckets in a +rack. + +Along the side of the passage opposite the staterooms were electric +bulbs at intervals, but only two of them were burning--just enough to +light one through the narrow passage. Above each closed door was a solid +wooden transom, hinged at its lower side and opened at an angle into the +room. + +Tom moved quickly and very quietly, for he feared to be caught loitering +here. He saw at once that only one of these staterooms could possibly +be used for any such criminal purpose as he suspected, and that was the +one with a light directly opposite it in the passage, for the other +light was beyond the staterooms. + +For a few seconds he stood listening to the slow, monotonous sound of +the machinery just below him. The vibration was very pronounced here; +the floor thumped with the pulsations of the mighty engines. And Tom's +heart was thumping too. + +Within the staterooms all was dark and quiet. He knew the under +engineers turned in early. Not the faintest flicker was to be seen +through any of those transoms. He had been mistaken, he thought; had +jumped at a crazy notion. And he half turned to go up again. + +But instead he listened at the companionway, then tiptoed stealthily +along the passage and looked over the oily iron rail, down, down into +the depths of the great, dim, oil-smelling space with its iron galleries +and the mammoth steel arms, moving back and forth, back and forth, far +down there upon the grated floor. A tiny figure in a jumper went down +from one of the lower galleries, paused to look at a big dial, then +crossed the floor and disappeared, making never a sound. No other +living thing was in sight--unless those mighty steel arms, ever meeting +and parting might be said to be living. To come up from down there would +mean the ascent of three iron stairways. + +Tom withdrew into the passage and quietly lifting one of the +fire-buckets from the rack, tiptoed with it to the door which was +directly opposite the passageway. + +Then he paused again. He could open that door, he knew, for no keys or +bolts were allowed on any stateroom door. He could surprise the +occupant, whom he would find in darkness. If his suspicion was correct +(and he was beginning now to fear that it was not) there would be no +actual proof of anything inside of that dark little room, save only just +what the authorities had already found--an apparently innocent mess +plate. The criminal act would consist of simply holding a shiny plate in +a certain position. The moment a sound was heard outside the plate could +be laid down. And who would be the wiser? + +Tom's heart was thumping in his breast, his eyes anxiously scanning one +end of the passage, then the other. + +Not a sound--no sign of anyone. + +Tom Slade had been a scout and notwithstanding his suspense and almost +panicky apprehension, he was not going to act impulsively or +thoughtlessly. He knew that if he could only present a convincing case +to his superiors, they would forgive him his presumption. If he made a +bungle it might go hard with him. Anyway, he could not, or would not, +turn back now. + +In truth, he did not believe that anything at all was going to happen. +The stateroom was so dark and so still that all his fine ideas and +deductions, which had seemed so striking and plausible up on the +lonesome, wind-swept deck, began to fade away. + +But there would be no harm in one little test, and no one would be the +wiser. He tried to picture in his mind's eye the interior of that little +stateroom. If it were like his own, then the mirror was on the other +side of the passage wall, that is, on the opposite side of the stateroom +from the port hole. If one looked into the mirror he would see the port +hole. All of the smaller rooms below decks which he had seen were +arranged in the same way. + +Therefore, thought Tom, if one should hold a shiny mess plate, for +instance, up near the transom, so as to catch the light from without, +he could throw it down into the mirror, which would reflect not only the +glare but the brilliant image of the bulb as well. From out on the ocean +that reflected light would be very clear. + +All of which, thought Tom dubiously, was a very pretty theory, but---- + +Without making a sound he placed the inverted bucket on the floor and +listened. He put one foot on it and listened again. Then he stood upon +it, his heart pounding like a triphammer. + +Not a sound. + +Probably the tired occupant of the room was fast asleep--sleeping the +peaceful sleep of the innocent. + +Tom knew that if his mind's eye picture of the room's arrangement were +correct, the metal reflector would be of no avail unless tilted at a +slight angle from the horizontal, right inside the transom. + +For a moment he stood upon the bucket, not daring to budge. He could +hear his own breathing, and far away the steady, dull thud of the +tireless machinery. Something creaked in the passage, and he turned +cold. He did not stir a muscle. + +Only some superficial crevice or crack somewhere--some loose panel or +worn hinge responding to the onslaught of a giant wave without---- +Nothing---- + +He turned his head and looked down the passage, clenching his fists in +momentary fright, as if he feared the bending of his neck might be +heard. + +No one. Not a sound. + +He tried to look through the transom but his eyes were not high enough. +For another second he paused. Then he reached through the transom and +moved his hand about in the silence and darkness. He heard the cracking +again and waited, trembling, though he knew it was nothing. + +Then he groped about with his hand again. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HE MAKES A DISCOVERY AND IS GREATLY AGITATED + + +Suddenly his hand encountered something hard and cold, and he grabbed it +like lightning. His heart was in his throat now. There was a scuffling +sound within and the object was wrenched and twisted and pulled +frantically. + +But Tom had been a scout and he was prepared. The two big clumsy hands +which bore the captain's tray back and forth each day had once torn a +pack of thirty cards in half to entertain tenderfeet at campfire. And +one of those hands clutched this thing now with the grip of a bulldog. + +His excitement and his pounding heart did not embarrass him in the brief +tussle. A few dexterous twists this way and that, and he withdrew his +hand triumphantly, scratched and bleeding, the light in the passage +glinting upon the polished surface of the mess plate which he held. + +Scarcely three minutes had escaped since he came down from the deck, +but in that short period his usually sturdy nerves had borne a terrific +strain and for a moment he leaned against the opposite side of the +passage, clutching the dish in consternation. + +In that brief moment when he had paused before putting his hand through +the transom, he had thought that if indeed the plate were being held +there even still the conspirator's eyes would be fixed upon the +stationary mirror in order to keep the reflection centered in direct +line with the porthole. Evidently he had been right and had taken the +plotter quite unaware. + +Sherlock Nobody Holmes had succeeded beyond his most extravagant dreams! + +The door of the little room flew back and a figure stood in the dark +opening, looking at him. + +"That--_that's_ what you meant," Tom stammered, scarcely knowing what he +said, "about the same idea as a periscope. You thought--you thought----" + +The man, evidently surprised at seeing no one but the captain's mess +boy, stuck out his head and looked apprehensively up and down the +passage. + +"There's nobody," breathed Tom, "except me; but it won't do you any +good--it won't--because I'm going to tell----" + +He paused, clutching the mess plate, and looked aghast at the +disheveled, half-dressed man who faced him. Then the plate dropped from +his hand, and a strange, cold feeling came over him. + +"Who are you?" he gasped, his eyes stark and staring. "I--I didn't +know--I ain't----" + +He stopped, refusing to believe, and groped for the precious mess plate, +part of the makeshift periscope which his own keenness had discovered +and rendered useless. Then he stood again, fumbling the thing in his +clumsy hands and staring, all bewildered, at the traitor who had used it +to betray his country. + +Was it----? It could not be---- But the years had wrought more change in +Tom himself than in the man who stood there glaring back at him, half +recognizing. + +Yes, it _was_ his own brother, William Slade, who had left home so long +ago! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HE IS FRIGHTENED AND VERY THOUGHTFUL + + +And this was the triumph of Sherlock Nobody Holmes! This was the +startling discovery with which he would astonish his superiors and win +their approbation! It was not Sherlock Nobody Holmes who heard in a sort +of daze the whispered words that were next uttered. It was just the +captain's mess boy, and he hung his head, not so much in crushing +disappointment as in utter shame. + +"Come inside here and keep still. How'd _you_ get on this ship? +Nobody'll be hunting for you, will they? Come in--quick. What's the +matter with you?" + +Still clutching the dish, Tom was dragged into that dark little room. He +seemed almost in a trance. The hand which had been raised in conspiracy +and treason pushed him roughly onto the berth. + +"So you turned up like a bad penny, huh?" whispered his brother, +fiercely. + +"I--I wrote you--a letter--after mother died," Tom said simply. "I +don't know if you got it." + +"Shut up!" hissed his brother. "Don't talk so loud! You want to get me +in trouble? How'd you know about this?" + +His voice was gruff and cold and seemed the more so for his frightened +whisper. + +"She died of pneumonia," said Tom impassively. "I was----" + +"Gimme that plate!" his brother interrupted. + +But this roused Tom. He seemed to feel that his possession of the plate +was a badge of innocence. + +"I got to keep it," he said; "it's----" + +"Shh!" his brother interrupted. "Somebody's coming; don't move and keep +your mouth shut! It's the second shift of stokers!" + +From the companionway came the steady sound of footfalls. There was an +authoritative sound to them as they echoed in the deserted passage, +coming nearer and nearer. It was not the second shift of stokers. + +"Shh," said Tom's brother, clutching his arm. "If they should come here +keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. They ain't got anything +on me," he added in a hoarse whisper which bespoke his terror, "unless +_you_--shhh!" + +"I know what it is," Tom whispered, "and I ain't a-scared. They got a +signal from the destroyer. They know the room." + +"There's nothing they can find here," his brother breathed. "They were +all through here last night. Put that dish down--put it down, I tell +you! Shh!" + +Tom let go of the plate, scarcely knowing what he did. + +Nearer, nearer, came the footsteps and stopped. The door was thrown open +and in the passage stood the captain, a sailor and the officer who had +spoken to Tom the night before. + +Tom's heart was in his throat; he did not move a muscle. What happened +seemed all a jumble to him, like things in a dream. He was aware of a +lantern held by the officer and of the sailor standing by the porthole, +over which he had spread something black. + +"Did you know this kid was mixed up in it?" the sailor asked. Tom felt +that the sailor must be a Secret Service man. + +"They're brothers," said the captain. "You can see that." + +"He had him posted for a lookout," said the officer. "He was watching +on the deck last night." Then, turning upon Tom he said brusquely, "you +were supposed to hurry down here with the tip if the convoy signaled, +eh?" + +Tom struggled to answer, but they did not give him time. + +"You're the fellow that read that semaphore message the other day, too, +eh?" the officer said. "Stand up." + +Tom stood trembling while the sailor rapidly searched him. "Where's your +flashlight?" he demanded apparently disappointed not to find one. + +"I haven't got any," said Tom, dully. + +"Pretty good team work," said the sailor. + +"Here you," he added, proceeding to search Tom's brother, while the +captain and the officer fell to turning the little room inside out, +hauling the mattress from the berth and examining every nook and cranny +of the place. Tom noticed that the plate, which was now on a stool, had +a sandwich on it and a piece of cheese, and he realized, if he had not +realized before, his brother's almost diabolical foresight and sagacity. +It looked very innocent--a harmless, late lunch, brought into the +stateroom as was often done among the ship's people. + +During the search of the stateroom Tom stood silently by. He watched the +coverings pulled ruthlessly from the berth, moved out of the way as the +mattress was hauled to the floor, gazed fascinated at the quick +thoroughness which mercilessly unfolded every innocent towel and +scrutinized each joint and section of the life preserver, until +presently the orderly little apartment was in a state of chaos. He saw +the officer move the plate so as to examine the under side of the stool. +He saw the disguised Secret Service man pick up a little piece of +innocent cotton waste and carelessly throw it down again. + +But the turmoil about him was nothing to the turmoil in his own brain. +What should he do? Would he dare to speak? What could he say? And still +he stood silent, watching with a strange, cold feeling, looking +occasionally at his brother, and thinking--thinking. As his brother +watched him furtively, and a little fearfully, Tom became aware of a +queer way he had of contracting his eyebrows, just as Uncle Job used to +do when he told a joke. And there came into his mind the memory of a +certain day long ago when his big brother and he had shot craps +together in front of the bank building in Bridgeboro and his brother had +looked just that same way when he watched the street for stray +policemen. Funny that he should think of that just now. The sailor (or +whatever he was) gave Tom a shove to get him out of the way so that he +could crawl under the berth. + +And still Tom watched them dazedly. He was thinking of something that +Mr. Ellsworth, his scoutmaster, had once said--that blood is thicker +than water. As nearly as he could make out, that meant that after all a +fellow's own people came first--before anything else. He had great +respect for Mr. Ellsworth. + +The man in the sailor suit picked up the plate of food from the berth +and slung the whole business into the basin. The jangle of the dish +startled Tom and roused him. The others didn't seem to mind it. They had +more important things to think of than a mess plate. + +And Tom Slade, captain's mess boy and former scout, went on thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +HE PONDERS AND DECIDES BETWEEN TWO NEAR RELATIONS + + +When Tom at length did speak his own voice sounded strange to him; but +he said what he had to say with a simple straightforwardness which in +ordinary circumstances would have carried conviction. + +"If you'd let me say something," he said, trying to keep his throat +clear, "I'd like to tell you----" + +"It's the best thing, sonny," said the man in the sailor suit; "you +needn't be afraid of squealing. How old are you?" + +"Seventeen," said Tom, "but it wasn't squealing I was thinking about. I +ain't a-scared, if that's what you think." + +He avoided looking at his brother, who tried to catch his eye, and the +men, perhaps seeing this and thinking it might be fruitful to let him +say what he would in his own way, relaxed a trifle toward him. + +"While you were searching," Tom went on, hesitating, but still showing +something of his old stolid manner, "I wasn't a-scared, but I was +thinking--I had to think about something--before I could decide what I +ought to do." + +"All right, sonny," said the man in the sailor clothes. "I'm glad you +know what's best for you. Out with it. You've got a key to that +porthole, eh? Now where is it?" + +"You had a flashlight and threw it out, didn't you?" added the officer. +"Come now." + +Tom looked from one to the other. His brother began to speak but was +peremptorily silenced. + +"It ain't knowin' what's good for me," Tom managed to say, "'cause as +soon as I--as soon as I--made up my mind about that--then right away I +knew what I ought to do----" + +He gulped and looked straight at the officer so as not to meet his +brother's threatening look. + +"I had to decide it myself--'cause--'cause Mr. Ellsworth--a man I +know--ain't here. Maybe a feller's own family come first and I +wouldn't--I wouldn't--tell on 'em--if--if they stole--or something like +that," he blurted out, twisting his fingers together. "And--and--I +didn't forget neither--I didn't," he added, turning and looking his +brother straight in the face, "I didn't--I----" + +He broke down completely and the men stared at him, waiting. + +"Anyway--anyway--I got to remember----" He broke off. + +"Well, what became of the light?" the officer urged rather coldly. + +"And when you saw me standing on the--deck--last night--I was thinking +about Uncle Sam----" He gulped and hesitated, then went on, +"and--and--that's what made me think about Uncle Sam being a relation +too--kind of--and I got to decide between my brother and my +uncle--like." He gulped again and shook his head with a kind of +desperate resolution. "There--_there_ it is," he almost shouted, +pointing at the scattered sandwich and the mess plate in the wash basin. +"You--picked it up twice," he added with a kind of reckless triumph, +"and you didn't know it." + +"What?" said the captain, with a puzzled look at his companions, as if +he were a little doubtful of Tom's sanity. + +"There it is," Tom repeated, controlling himself better now that the +truth was out. "He held it--up there--so's the light would shine in the +glass. There ain't anything except that. It's--it's the same idea as a +periscope. He said it in a letter that I gave Mr. Conne--and--and I +found out what he meant. I--I didn't know he was----" + +Trying desperately to master his feeling he broke down and big tears +rolled down his cheeks. "I couldn't help it," he said to his brother. +"It ain't 'cause I don't remember--but--I had to decide--and I got to +stand by Uncle Sam!" + +"If you didn't know about this," said the captain, watching him keenly, +"how did you suspect it? You'd better try to control yourself and tell +everything. This is a very serious matter." + +"You see that piece of cotton waste that you kicked?" said Tom, turning +upon the disguised government agent. "You can see it's fresh and hasn't +got any oil on it. You can see from the flat place on it how it was used +to polish the dish. I ain't----" he gulped. "I ain't going to talk about +my brother--but I got to tell about the papers he's got somewhere. The +same person that said it was like a periscope said something about +having plans of a motor. I got to tell that, and I ain't going to say +any more about him. So now he can't do any more harm. And--and I want +you to please go away," he burst forth, "because I--I got to tell him +about how our mother died--'cause maybe he didn't--get the letter." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HE IS ARRESTED AND PUT IN THE GUARDHOUSE + + +But of course his brother _had_ received that letter. The circumstances +of his mother's death were the least of his troubles now and he must +have thought his young brother very innocent and sentimental. He did not +understand Tom's wanting to talk about their mother's death any more +than Tom understood how Bill could be a spy and a traitor. + +In short, the wily, self-seeking Bill, who would stop at nothing, +probably thought his brother had a screw loose, as the saying is, and +perhaps that is what the others thought also. + +Tom was never very lucid in explanation, and his emotion had made his +surprising story choppy and unsatisfactory. His explanation of the use +of the plate and of the telltale piece of cotton which his keen eyes had +not missed, seemed plausible enough, and fell like a bomb-shell among +his questioners. + +But they did not give him credit for his discovery nor even for his +apparent innocence. It was, as the captain had said, a serious business, +and Uncle Sam was taking no chances where spies and traitors were +concerned. Probably they thought Tom was a weak-minded tool of his +shrewder brother. + +"Well," said the officer rather curtly, "I'm glad you told the truth. If +you had told me the truth last night when I caught you up there, it +would have been better for you. Still, confession made at bay is better +than none," he said to the captain, adding as he left the room, "I'll +have a squad down." + +William Slade sat upon the berth, glaring at the detective who stood +guarding the doorway. He looked vicious enough with his disheveled hair +and sooty face and the dirty jumper such as the under engineers wore. +Tom wondered when he had come east and how he had fallen in with his old +patron, Adolf Schmitt. + +And this was his own brother! Evidently William had been in the German +spy service for some time, for he had learned the rule of absolute +silence when discovered and he had even acquired some of that lowering +sullenness which sets the Teuton apart from all other beings. + +[Illustration: "THERE--_THERE_ IT IS," TOM ALMOST SHOUTED.] + +Presently there came the steady footfalls of soldiers in formation and +a sudden fear seized upon Tom. + +"They--they ain't going to arrest me, are they?" he asked, with alarm in +every line of his ordinarily expressionless face. + +"Put you both in the guardhouse," said the captain briefly.[2] + +"Didn't you--didn't you--believe me?" Tom pleaded simply and not without +some effect. + +"You and your brother get your jobs together?" the captain asked. + +"Mr. Conne, who's in the Secret Service, got me mine," Tom said. + +"Who did he recommend you to?" asked the detective. + +Tom hesitated a moment. "To Mr. Wessel, the steward," he said. + +"Humph! Too bad Mr. Wessel died. You'll both have to go to the +guardhouse." + +Tom saw there was no hope for him. For a moment he struggled, drawing a +long breath in pitiful little gulps. If he had followed Mr. Conne's +advice he would not be in this predicament. But where then might the +great transport be? Who but he, captain's mess boy, had saved the ship +and showed these people how the light---- + +"It makes me feel like----" he began. "Can't I--please--can't I not be +arrested--please?" + +Neither man answered him. Presently the door opened and four soldiers +entered. One of them was "Pickles," who had nicknamed Tom "Tombstone," +because he was so sober. But he was not Pickles now; he was just one of +a squad of four, and though he looked surprised he neither smiled nor +spoke. + +"Pickles," said Tom. "I ain't--_You_ don't believe----" + +But Pickles had been too long in training camp to forget duty and +discipline so readily and the only answer Tom got was the dull thud of +Pickles' rifle butt on the floor as the officer uttered some word or +other. + +That thud was a good thing for Tom. It seemed to settle him into his +old stolid composure, which had so amused the boys in khaki. + +Side by side with his brother, whom so long ago he could not bear to see +"licked," he marched out and along the passage, a soldier in front, one +behind and one at either side. How strange the whole thing seemed! + +His brother who had gone out to Arizona when Tom was just a bad, +troublesome little hoodlum! And here they were now, marching silently +side by side, on one of Uncle Sam's big transports, with four soldiers +escorting them! Both, the nephews of Uncle Job Slade who had died in the +Soldiers' Home and had been buried with the Stars and Stripes draped +over his coffin. + +Two things stood out in Tom Slade's memory, clearest of all, showing how +unreasonable and contrary he was. Two lickings. One that made him mad +and one that made him glad--and that he was proud of. The licking that +his brother had got, when he could, as he had told honest Pete Connigan, +"feel the madness way down in his fingers." And the licking his father +had given _him_ for not hanging out the flag. + +"_Zey must be all fine people to haf' such a boy_," Frenchy had said. +He hoped he would not see Frenchy now. + +But he was to be spared nothing. The second cabin saloon was filled with +soldiers and they stared in amazement as the little group marched +through, the steady thud, thud, of the guards' heavy shoes emphasized by +the wondering stillness. Tom shuffled along with his usual clumsy gait, +looking neither to right nor left. Up the main saloon stairway they +went, and here, upon the top carpeted step sat Frenchy chatting with +another soldier. He was such a hand to get off into odd corners for +little chats! He stared, uttered an exclamation, then remembered that he +was a soldier and caught himself. But he turned and following the little +procession with astonished eyes until they disappeared. + +The guardhouse was the little smoking-room where Tom and Frenchy had sat +upon the sill and talked and Frenchy had given him the iron button. Into +the blank darkness of this place he and his brother were marched, and +all through that long, dreadful night Tom could hear a soldier pacing +back and forth, back and forth, on the deck just outside the door. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[2] The custom of putting arrested persons in the "brig" on liners and +transports was discontinued by reason of the danger of their losing +their lives without chance of rescue, in the event of torpedoing. The +present rule is that the guardhouse must be above decks and a living +guard must always be at hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HE DOES MOST OF THE TALKING AND TAKES ALL THE BLAME + + +Tramp, tramp, tramp--all through the endless, wakeful hours he heard +that soldier marching back and forth, back and forth, outside the door. +Every sound of those steady footfalls was like a blow, stinging afresh +the cruel wound which had been opened in his impassive nature. He was +under arrest and under guard. If he should try to get out that soldier +would order him to halt, and if he didn't halt the soldier would shoot +him. He wondered if the guard were Pickles. + +He did not think at all about his deductive triumph now. And he did not +care much about what they would do with him. He wondered a little what +the soldiers would say--particularly Frenchy. But if only his brother +would talk to him and ask about their mother he could bear everything +else--the dashing of his triumph, the danger he was in, the shame. The +shame, most of all. + +He did not care so much now about being Sherlock Nobody Holmes--he had +had enough of that. And no matter what they thought of "Yankee Doodle +Whitey," _he_ knew that he was loyal. Let them think that all his talk +of Uncle Job and the flag and his father's patriotism was just +bluff--let Frenchy think he had been just deceiving him--he could stand +anything, if only his brother would be like a brother to him now that +they were alone together. + +It was a strange, unreasonable feeling. + +Once, only once, in the long night, he tried to make his brother +understand. + +"Maybe you won't believe me, but I'm sorry," he said; "if you ain't +asleep I wish you'd listen--Bill. Now that I told 'em I feel kind of +different--I _had_ to tell 'em. I had to decide quick--and I didn't +have nobody--anybody--to help me. Maybe you think I was crazy---- Are +you listenin'?" + +There was no response, but he knew his brother was not asleep. + +"It ain't because I wanted 'em to think I was smart--Bill--if you think +it was that, you're wrong. And anyway, it didn't show I was so +smart--you was smarter, anyway, if it comes to that. I got to admit it. +'Cause you thought about it first--about using the dish. It served me +right for thinking I could deduce, and all like that, anyway. You ain't +asleep, are you?" + +"Aw, shut up!" his brother grunted. "You could 'a' kept me out o' this +by keepin' yer mouth shut. But you had to jabber it out, you----. And +they'll plug me full of lead." + +A cold shudder ran through Tom. + +"I got to admit I'm a kind of a (he was going to say _traitor_, but for +his brother's sake he avoided the word). I got to admit I wasn't loyal, +too. I wasn't loyal to you, anyway. But I had to decide quick, Bill. And +I saw I _had_ to tell 'em. You got to be loyal to Uncle Sam first of +all. But--but---- Are you listening, Bill? I ain't mad, anyway. 'Cause +Adolf Schmitt's most to blame. It ain't--it ain't 'cause I want to get +let off free either, it ain't. I wouldn't care so much now what they did +to me, anyway. 'Cause everything is kind of spoiled now about all of +us--our family--being so kind of patriotic----" + +His brother, goaded out of his sullenness, turned upon him with a tirade +of profane abuse, leaving the boy shamed and silent. + +And all the rest of that night Tom Slade, whose hand had extinguished +the guiding light, perhaps, to some lurking submarine; who had had to +"think quick and all by himself," and had decided for his Uncle Sam +against his brother Bill, sat there upon the leather settee, feeling +guilty and ashamed. He knew that he had done right, but his generous +heart could not feel the black, shameless treason of his brother because +his own smaller treason stood in the way. He could not see the full +guilt of that wretched brother because he felt mean and contemptible +himself. Truly, the soldier had hit the nail on the head when he said, +"You're all right, Whitey!" + +And now, suspected, shamed, sworn at and denounced, even now, as his +generous nature groped for some extenuation for this traitor whose +scheme he had discovered and exposed, he found it comforting to lay the +whole blame and responsibility upon the missing Adolf Schmitt. + +"Anyway, he tempted you," he said, though he knew his brother would +neither listen nor respond. "Maybe you think I don't know that. He's +worse than anybody--he is." + +_You're all right, Whitey!_ + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +HE SEES A LITTLE AND HEARS MUCH + + +Toward morning, he fell asleep, and when he awoke the vibration of the +engines had ceased, and he heard outside the door of his prison a most +uproarious clatter which almost drowned the regular footfalls of the +soldier. + +He had heard linotype machines in operation--which are not exactly what +you would call quiet; he had listened to the outlandish voice of a +suction-dredge and the tumultuous clamor of a threshing machine. But +this earsplitting clatter was like nothing he had ever heard before. + +The door opened and he was thankful to see that the soldier outside was +not one of his particular friends. He was silently escorted to the wash +room, in the doorway of which the guard waited while Tom refreshed +himself after his sleepless night with a grateful bath. + +The vessel, as he could see, was moored parallel with the abrupt brick +shore of a very narrow canal, with somber, uninviting houses close on +either hand. It was as if a ship were tied up along the curb of a +street. Up and down the gang planks and back and forth upon the deck +hurried men in blouses with great, clumsy wooden shoes upon their feet +and now Tom saw the cause of that earsplitting clatter; and he knew that +he had reached "over there." + +Down on the brick street below the ship, a multitude of children, all in +wooden shoes, danced and clattered about, in honor of the ship's +arrival, and the windows were full of people waving the Stars and +Stripes, calling "Vive l'Amerique!" and trying, with occasional success, +to throw loose flowers and little round potatoes with French and +American flags stuck in them, onto the deck. + +All of the houses looked very dingy and old, and the men in blouses who +pushed their clods about on this or that errand upon the troopship, were +old, too, and had sad, worn faces. Only the children were joyful. + +As Tom went back along the deck, he glanced through a street which +seemed to run almost perpendicularly up the side of a thickly built-up +hill, and caught a passing glimpse of the open country beyond. France! +He wondered whether the "front" were in that direction and how long it +would take to get there, and what it looked like. It could not be so +very far. Presently he heard a more orderly clatter of wooden shoes and +he saw several of the soldiers, who had not yet gone ashore, hurry to +the rail. + +He did not dare to do that himself, but as he walked he ventured to +verge a little toward the vessel's side, and saw below several men in +tattered, almost colorless uniforms, marching in line along the brick +street, each with a wheelbarrow. + +He heard a woman call something from a window in French. + +"There's discipline for you, all right," a soldier said. + +"You said it," replied another; "it's second nature with 'em." + +He gathered that the little procession of laborers were German +prisoners, and that the long ingrained habit of marching in step had +become so much a part of their natures that they did it now +instinctively. + +Then he realized that he himself was a prisoner and was in a worse +plight than they. + +He spent the morning wondering what they would do with him and his +brother. Of course they believed him to be the accomplice of his +brother. They probably thought he had weakened and told in terror and in +hope of clemency. He wondered if they had gone through his brother's +luggage yet and whether they had found any papers. + +He realized that it seemed almost too much of a coincidence that he and +his brother should have happened on the same ship--and in the same +stateroom, all by accident. And he knew that his coming down from the +deck just after the signal from the destroyer, looked bad. He knew that +back home in America Germans had gone to Ellis Island upon less +suspicious circumstances than that. But what would they do with an +American? In the case of an American it was just plain treason and the +punishment for treason is---- + +A feeling almost of nausea overcame him and he tried to put the dreadful +thought away from him. + +"Anyway, the whole business is a kind of a mix-up," he told himself; "it +don't make any difference what you do--you get in trouble. But I don't +blame them so much, 'cause they judge by looks, and that's the only way +you can do. Anyway, you got to die some time. I'm glad I found it out +and told 'em, 'cause anyway it don't make any difference if they think I +confessed or just found it out--as long as they know it. That's the main +thing." + +With this consoling thought he withdrew into his old stolid self, and +was ready to stand up and be shot if that was what they intended to do +with him. He did not blame anybody "because it was all a mix-up." If he +had chosen to save his brother he might have saved himself. The great +ship, with all her brave boys, would have gone down, perhaps, and his +brother would have seen to it that they two were saved. + +Well, the ship had _not_ gone down, the brave boys who had jollied the +life out of him were on their way across country now to die if need be, +and who was he, Tom Slade, that he should be concerning himself as to +just how or when _he_ should die, or whether he got any credit or not, +so long as he had decided right and done what he ought to do? + +He would rather have died honorably in the trenches, but if doing Uncle +Sam a good turn meant that he must die in disgrace, why then he would +die in disgrace, that was all. + +The point was the _good_ turn. Once a scout, always a scout. + +No one spoke to him all through the day--not even his brother. He heard +the hurried comings and goings on the deck, the creaking of the big +winches as bag after bag of wheat, bale after bale of cotton, was swung +over and lowered upon the brick quay. The little French children who +made the neighborhood a bedlam with their gibberish and the outlandish +clatter of their wooden shoes; the women who sat in their windows +watching these good things being unloaded, as Santa Claus might unload +his pack in the bosom of some poor family; the United States officers +who were in authority at the port, and all the clamoring rabble which +made the ship's vicinity a picnic ground, did not know, of course, that +it was because the captain's mess boy had made a discovery and "decided +right" that these precious stores were not at the bottom of the ocean. + +And the captain's mess boy, whose uncle had fought at Gettysburg, and +whose brother was a traitor, could not see the things which were going +to help win the war because he was locked up in a little dim room on +board, called the guardhouse. He was sitting on the leather settee, his +fingers intertwined nervously, gulping painfully now and then, but for +the most part, quiet and brave. He did not try to talk with his brother +now. He wished he could know the worst right away--what they were going +to do with him. Then he would not care so much. + +Outside, upon the deck and quay, he could hear much, and he listened +with a dull interest. He knew that old Uncle Sam was out there with his +sleeves rolled up, making himself mightily at home, chucking wheat and +wool and cotton and sugar and stuff out of the hold, slewing it, +hoisting it, and letting it down plunk onto France! The boys in khaki +were on trains already. He could hear the silly, piping screech of the +French locomotives. His mind was half numbed, but he hoped that all this +would encourage those French people and remind them that before Uncle +Sam rolled down his sleeves again, he intended to bat out a home run. + +Sometimes he became frightened, but he tried not to think of what lay +before him. He believed that his brother would drag him down to his own +shameful punishment, but he told himself that he didn't care. + +"Anyway, I did my bit. I wish--I kinder wish I could have seen Frenchy +again. But I ain't scared. I just as soon--stand--up--and be---- 'Cause +I ain't much, anyway----. And it ain't--it ain't for me to decide how I +ought to die." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HE AWAITS THE WORST AND RECEIVES A SURPRISE + + +After a while the monotony was broken by two soldiers coming to take his +brother away. Tom did not know where they were taking him; it might be +to court martial and death. He knew nothing about court martial, whether +it was a matter of minutes or hours or days, only he knew that +everything in military administration was quick, severe and thorough. He +wanted to speak to his brother, but he did not dare, and after the grim +little procession was gone he listened to the steady, ominous footfalls, +as they receded along the deck. + +Soon they would come for _him_, and he made up his mind that he would be +master of himself and at the last minute he would hold his head up and +look straight at them, just like the statue of Nathan Hale which he had +seen.... + +He realized fully now that he had been caught in the meshes of his +brother's intrigue, and that there was no hope for him. To have saved +himself he would have had to spare his brother and allow the intriguing +to go on. Well, it made no difference--here he was. "And it ain't so +much, anyway," he said, "if one boy like me does get misjudged, as long +as the ship is saved and those papers about the motor were found." + +So he tried to comfort himself, sitting there alone, twisting his +fingers and gulping now and then. All his fine, patriotic memories of +the Slades were knocked in the head, but even in these lonely hours he +was stanch for Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam might make a mistake--a terrible +mistake, as he presently would do--"but anyway he's more important than +I am," he said. + +Occasionally he listened wistfully to the sounds outside and they made +him wish he could see as well as hear. He heard the creaking of the busy +pulleys, the men calling "Yo-o-ho!" as they handled the winch-ropes, the +dull thud of the heavy bales upon the quay, the cheerful, lusty calls of +the workers, the loud voices of the French people, and that incessant +accompaniment of all, the clatter, clatter, clatter, of wooden shoes. + +Sometimes he would lose his mastery of himself and regain it only to +listen again, wistfully, longingly. He hoped those German prisoners who +walked as if they were wound up with a key, noticed all this hurry and +bustle. They would soon see what it meant for Uncle Sam. + +There were voices outside and Tom's heart beat like a hammer. Could it +be over so soon? The door opened a little and he could see that someone +was holding the knob, talking to a soldier. He breathed heavily, his +fingers were cold, but he stood up and looked straight before him, +bravely. They had come to get him. + +Then the door opened wider and a familiar voice greeted him. + +"H'lo, Tommy. Well, well! Adventures never cease, huh?" + +Tom stood gaping. Through dimmed eyes he saw a cigar (it seemed like the +same cigar) cocked up in the corner of Mr. Conne's mouth and that queer, +whimsical look on Mr. Conne's face. + +"Mr. Conne----" he stammered. "I didn't know--you was--here. _You_ don't +believe it, do you?" + +Mr. Conne worked his cigar leisurely over to the other side of his +mouth. + +"Believe what?" + +"That--I'm--a--a spy and--and a traitor." He almost whispered the +words. + +Mr. Conne smiled exasperatingly and hit him a rap on the shoulder. +"Anybody accuse you of being that?" + +"That's what they think," said Tom. + +"Oh, no, they don't, Tommy. But they've got to be careful. Don't you +know they have?" + +"I got to go and--get shot--maybe." + +"So? Fancy that! Sit down here and tell me the whole business, Tommy. +What's it all about?" + +"I--got to admit it looks bad----" + +"They wouldn't have done anything with you till they saw me, Tommy. Even +if they had to take you back to New York. Trouble was, Wessel's dying. +How could they prove what you said about me getting you the job?" + +He put his arm over Tom's shoulder as they sat down upon the leather +settee, and the effect of all the dread and humiliation and injustice +and shame welled up in the boy now under that friendly touch and he went +to pieces entirely. + +"Did you think I didn't know what I was doing when I picked you, Tommy?" + +Tom could not answer, but sat there with his breast heaving, his hand +on Mr. Conne's knee. + +"Did you just find your brother there by accident, Tom?" + +"I--I got to be--ashamed----" + +"Yes," Mr. Conne said kindly; "you've got to be ashamed of _him_. But +you see, I haven't got to be ashamed of you, have I? How'd you find out +about it? Tell me the whole thing, Tom." + +And so, sitting there with this shrewd man who had befriended him, Tom +told the whole story as he could not have told it to anyone else. He +went away back into the old Barrel Alley days, when he had "swiped" +apples from Adolf Schmitt and his brother Bill had worked in Schmitt's +grocery store. He told how it used to make him mad when his brother "got +licked unfair," as he said, and he did not know why Mr. Conne screwed up +his face at that. He told about how he "had to decide quick, kind of," +when the officers confronted him in his brother's stateroom, and how the +thought about Uncle Sam being his uncle had decided him. He told how he +had had to keep his face turned away from his brother so that he +"wouldn't feel so mean, like." And here again Mr. Conne gave his face +another screw and Tom did not understand why. That was one trouble with +Tom Slade--he was so thick that he could not understand a lot of things +that were perfectly plain to other people. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HE TALKS WITH MR. CONNE AND SEES THE BOYS START FOR THE FRONT + + +"What--what do you think they'll do with him?" + +It was the question uppermost in Tom's mind, but he could not bring +himself to ask it until his visitor was about to leave. + +"Why, that's hard to say, Tommy," Mr. Conne answered kindly but +cautiously; then after a moment's silence he added, "I'll strain a point +and tell you something because--well, because you're entitled to know. +But you must keep it very quiet. They hope to learn much more from him +than he has told, but they found in his luggage a lot of plans and +specifications of the 'Liberty Motor.'" + +"I'm glad," said Tom simply. + +"Of course, we suspected from the letters sent to Schmitt that somebody +had such plans, but we had no clue as to who it was. You grabbed more +than the dish when you put your hand through that transom, Tommy. You +got hold of the plans of the 'Liberty Motor' too." + +"I didn't take your advice," said Tom ruefully; "I got a good lesson." + +"That's all right, my boy. You've got a brain in your head and you did a +good job. It'll all go to your credit, and the other part won't be +remembered. So _you_ try not to think of it." + +"They won't kill him, will they?" + +"They won't do anything just at present, my boy. Now put your mind on +your work and don't think of anything else----" + +"Have I got my job yet?" + +"Why, certainly," Mr. Conne laughed; "I'll see you again, Tommy. +Good-by." + + * * * * * + +And Tom tried this time to follow his advice. He was soon released and +the officer, whom he had so feared, was good enough to say, "You did +well and you've had a pretty tough experience." The captain spoke kindly +to him, too, and all the ship's people seemed to understand. The few +soldiers who had not yet been sent forward to billets near the front, +did not jolly him or even refer to his detective propensities. They did +not even mimic him when he said "kind of," as they had done before. + +He had little to do during the ship's brief stay in port and Mr. Conne, +who was there on some mysterious business, showed him about the quaint +old French town and treated him more familiarly than he had ever done +before. For Tom Slade had received his first wound in the great war and +though it was long in healing, it yielded to kindness and sympathy, and +these everyone showed him. + +And so there came a day when he and Mr. Conne stood upon the platform +amid a throng of French people and watched the last contingent of the +boys as they called back cheerily from the queer-looking freight cars +which were to bear them up through the French country to that mysterious +"somewhere"--the most famous place in France. + +"So long, Whitey!" they called. "See you later." + +"Good-by, Tommy, old boy; hope the tin fish don't get you going back!" + +"Hurry up back and bring some more over, Whitey!" + +"_Bon voyage!_" + +"_Au revoir!_" + +"Give my regards to Broadway, Whitey." + +"Cheer up, Whitey, old pal. Kaiser Bill'll be worse off than you are +when _we_ get at him." + +"_N'importe_, Whitey." + +"I'll be there," called Tom. + +"_Venez donc!_" some one answered, amid much laughter. + +The last he saw of them they were waving their hats to him and making +fun of each other's French. He watched the train wistfully until it +passed out of sight. + +"They seem to like you, Tommy," Mr. Conne smiled. "Is that a new name, +Whitey?" + +"Everybody kinder always seems to give me nicknames," said Tom. "I've +had a lot of people jolly me, but never anybody so much as those +soldiers--not even the scouts. I'll miss 'em going back." + +"The next lot you bring over will be just the same, Tom. They'll jolly +you, too." + +"I don't mind it," said Tom. "But one thing I was thinking----" + +Mr. Conne rested his hand on Tom's shoulder and smiled very pleasantly +at him. He seemed to be going out of his way these days to befriend him +and to understand him. + +"It's about how you get to know people and get to like them, kind of, +and then don't see them any more. That feller, Archibald Archer, that +worked on the other ship I was on--I'd like to know where he is if he's +alive. I liked that feller." + +"It's a big world, Tom." + +"Maybe I might see him again some time--same as I met my--my brother." + +"Perhaps," said Mr. Conne, cheerily. "It's always the unexpected that +happens, you know." + +"I saw _you_ again, anyway." + +"Yes, you can't get away from me." + +"And Frenchy--maybe I'll never see him any more. He's got people that +live in Alsace; he told me all about them. He hasn't heard from them +since the war first began.--Gee, I hope Germany has to give Alsace back +to France--just for his sake!" + +Mr. Conne laughed. + +"Most of the people there stick up for France in their hearts, only they +dasn't show it. He gave me this button; it's made out of a cannon, and +it means the French people there got to help you." + +"Hmm--hang on to it." + +"You bet I'm going to. But maybe he wouldn't like now, even if I met him +again--after what he knows----" + +"Look here, Tom. You'll be sailing in a day or so and when you come back +I'll probably be in Washington. Perhaps you'll wish to enlist over here +soon. I'm going to give you a little button, _kind of_, as you would +say--to keep in your head. And this is it. Remember, there's only one +person in the world who can disgrace Tom Slade, and that is Tom Slade +himself." + +He slapped Tom on the shoulder, and they strolled up the dingy, crooked +street, past the jumble of old brown houses, until it petered out in a +plain where there was a little cemetery, filled with wooden crosses. + +"Those poor fellows all did their bit," said Mr. Conne. + +Tom looked silently at the straight rows of graves. He seemed to be +getting nearer and nearer to the war. + +"How far is the front?" he asked. + +"Not as far as from New York to Boston, Tom. Straight over that way is +Paris. When you get past Paris you begin to see the villages all in +ruins,--between the old front and the new front." + +"I've hiked as far as that." + +"Yes, it isn't far." + +"Do you know where our boys are--what part of it?" + +"Yes, I know, but I'm not going to tell you," Mr. Conne laughed. "You'd +like to be there, I suppose." + +For a few moments Tom did not answer. Then he said in his old dull way, +"I got a right to go now. I got a right to be a soldier, to make up +for--_him_. The next time I get back here I'm going to join. If we don't +get back for six weeks, then I'll be eighteen. I made up my mind now." + +Mr. Conne laughed approvingly and Tom gazed, with a kind of fascination, +across the pleasant, undulating country. + +"I could even hike it," he repeated; "it seems funny to be so near." + +But when finally he did reach the front, it was over the back fence, as +one might say, and after such an experience as he had never dreamed of. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HE IS CAST AWAY AND IS IN GREAT PERIL + + +"They're more likely to spill the cup when it's empty," said the deck +steward, who was a sort of walking encyclopedia to Tom. + +"I suppose that's because we haven't got such a good convoy going back," +Tom said. + +"That and high visibility. You see, the less there is in the ship, the +higher she sets up in the water, and the higher she sets the better they +can see her. We're in ballast and floating like a balloon. They get +better tips about westbound ships, too. All the French ports are full of +German agents. They come through Switzerland." + +The first day out on the voyage homeward was very rough. At about dusk +Tom was descending the steps from the bridge with a large tray when he +saw several of the ship's people (whose time was pretty much their own +on the westward trip) hurrying to the rail. One of them called to him, +"We're in for it;" but Tom was not alarmed, for by this time he was too +experienced a "salt" to be easily excited. + +"You can see the wake!" someone shouted. + +There was a sudden order on the bridge, somebody rushed past him and +then the tray, with all its contents, went crashing upon the steps and +Tom staggered against the stair-rail and clung to it. + +The ship was struck--struck as if by a bolt out of the sky. + +He had been through this sort of thing before and he was not scared. He +was shocked at the suddenness of it, but he kept his head and started +across the deck for his emergency post, aft. Everyone seemed to be +running in that direction. + +He knew that however serious the damage, there was but small danger to +life, since the convoy was at hand and since there were so very few +people upon the ship; there were life-boats enough, without crowding, +for all on board. + +But the impact, throwing him down the steps, as it did, had caused him +to twist his foot and he limped over to the rail for its assistance in +walking. Men were now appearing in life-preservers, and hovering +impatiently in the vicinity of the lifeboat davits, but he heard no +orders for manning the boats and he was distinctly aware of the engines +still going. + +[Illustration: TOM WAS STANDING, OR TRYING TO STAND, ON A GERMAN +SUBMARINE.] + +He hobbled along, holding the rail, intent upon reaching the davits +astern, where the third officer would give him orders, when suddenly +there was a splitting sound, the rail gave way, he struggled to regain +his balance and went headlong over the side, still clutching the piece +of rail which he had been leaning on. + +He had the presence of mind to keep hold of it and to swim quickly away +from the vessel, trying to shout as he swam; but the sudden ducking had +filled his mouth with water and he could do little more than splutter. + +He could see as he looked up that one of the upright stanchions which at +once strengthened the rail and supported the deck above, was in +splinters and it was this that had weakened the rail so that it gave +way. Vaguely he remembered reading of a submarine which, after +despatching a torpedo, had tried by gunfire to disable the steering +apparatus of a ship, and he wondered if that was the cause of the +shattered stanchion. + +He would not have believed that one could be carried out of hearing so +rapidly, but before he realized it, he was thrown down into the abysmal +depths of a great sea with only a towering wall of black water to be +seen, and when he was borne up on the crest of another great roller he +saw the ship and her convoy at what seemed a great distance from him. + +The vessels had seemed far apart from his viewpoint on deck, but now, so +great was his distance from them, that they seemed to form a very +compact flotilla and the hurried activities on the stricken vessel were +not visible at all. + +He shouted lustily through the gathering dusk, but without result. Again +and again he called, till his head throbbed from the exertion. He could +see the smoke now, from his own vessel he thought, and he feared that +she was under way, headed back to France. + +Later, when he was able to think connectedly at all, it was a matter of +wonder to him that he could have been carried so far in so short a time, +for he was not familiar with the fact known to all sailors that each +roller means a third of a mile and that a person may be carried out of +sight on the ocean in five minutes. + +He could discover no sign now of the flotilla except several little +columns of smoke and he realized that the damage to the _Montauk_ could +not be serious and that they were probably making for the nearest French +port. + +Tom was an expert swimmer, but this accomplishment was, of course, of no +avail now. He was nearly exhausted and his helplessness encouraged the +fatal spirit of surrender. With a desperate impulse he all but cast the +broken rail from him, resigned to struggle no more with its uncertain +buoyancy, which yielded to his weight and submerged him with every other +motion which he made. + +Then he had an idea. Dragging from the wood was part of the rope network +which had been the under part of the ship's rail. It was stiff with +paint. Grasping it firmly in his mouth he managed to get his duck jacket +off and this he spread across the stiff network, floating the whole +business, jacket underneath, so that the painted rope netting acted as a +frame to hold the jacket spread out. + +To his delight, he found this very buoyant, and with the strip of wood +which he lashed across it with his scarf and belt it was almost as good +as a life-preserver. He had to be careful to keep it flat upon the +water, for as soon as one edge went under the whole thing acted like the +horizontal rudders of a submarine. But he soon got the hang of managing +it and it was not half bad. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HE IS TAKEN ABOARD THE "TIN FISH" AND QUESTIONED + + +And then he saw it. Whether it had been near him all the time he did not +know. It was in the same wave-valley with himself and seemed to be +looking at him. Even before there was any sign of human life upon it, it +seemed to be standing off there just looking at him, and there was +something uncanny about it. It looked like the little flat cupola of the +town hall at home, only it was darker, and on top of it two long things +stood up like flagpoles. And it bobbed and moved and just stood +there--looking at him. + +A life boat might have a name instead of a number but it could not look +at him like that. + +Then he saw that it was nearer to him, although he could not exactly see +it move. On top of it were two persons, one of whom appeared to be +looking at him through a long glass. Tom wished that he could see the +rest of it--the part underneath--for then it would not seem so +unnatural. + +Then one of the men called to him through a megaphone and he was +possessed by an odd feeling that it was the thing itself speaking and +not the man upon it. + +"Speak German?" + +"No," Tom called, "I'm American." + +He waited, thinking they would either shoot him or else go away and +leave him. Then the man called, "Lift up your feet!" + +This strange mandate made the whole thing seem more unreal, and he would +not have been surprised to be told next to stand on his head. But he was +not going to take any chances with a Teuton and he raised his feet as +best he could, while the little tower came closer--closer, until it was +almost upon him. + +Suddenly his feet caught in something, throwing him completely over, and +as he frantically tried to regain his position his feet encountered +something hard but slippery. + +"Vell, vot did I tell you, huh?" the man roared down at him. + +Tom was almost directly beneath him now, walking, slipping, and +scrambling to his feet again, while this grim personage looked down at +him like Humpty Dumpty from his wall. The whole business was so utterly +strange that he could hardly realize that he was standing, or trying to +stand, waist deep, at the conning tower of a German submarine. By all +the rules of the newspapers and the story books, his approach should +have been dramatic, but it was simply a sprawling, silly progress. + +Of course, he knew how it was now. The U-boat was only very slightly +submerged, and evidently the removable hand rail had not been stowed and +it was that on which his feet had caught and which had caused his +inglorious aquatic somersault. He had walked, or stumbled, over the +submerged deck and now stood, a drenched and astonished figure, beneath +his rescuers--or his captors. + +The man lowered a rope which had something like a horse's stirrup +hanging to it and into this Tom put his foot, at the same time grasping +the rope, and was helped up somewhat roughly. + +Upon the top was a little hatch in which the man was standing, like a +jack in the box, and now he went down an iron ladder with Tom after him. + +"You off der _Montauk_, huh?" he said. + +"Yes, sir," said Tom, "I fell off." + +"Vell, you haf' good loock." + +Tom did not know whether to consider himself lucky or not, but it +occurred to him that the domineering manner of his captors might not be +an indication of their temper. And the realization of this was to prove +useful to him afterward for he found that with the Germans a not +unkindly intention was often expressed with glowering severity. He made +up his mind that he would not be afraid of him. + +The iron ladder descended into a compartment where there was much +electrical apparatus, innumerable switches, etc., and two steering +gears. In front of each of these was a thing to look into, having much +the appearance of a penny in the slot machine, in which one sees +changing views. These he knew for the lower ends of the two periscopes. +There was an odor in the place which made him think of a motorcycle. + +A door in the middle of this apartment, forward, led into a tiny, +immaculate galley, with utensils which fitted into each other for +economy in space, like a camping outfit. Here a parrot hung in a +cage--strange home for a bird of the air! + +Another door, midway in the opposite side of the galley, opened into a +narrow aisle which ran forward through the center of the boat, with +berths on either side, like the arrangement of a sleeping-car. In one of +these squatted two men, in jumpers, playing a card game. + +The length of this aisle seemed to Tom about half the length of a +railroad car. Through it his rescuer led him to a door which opened into +a tiny compartment, furnished with linoleum, a flat desk, three +stationary swivel chairs and a leather settee. It was very hot and +stuffy, with an oily smell, but cosy and spotlessly clean. + +Directly across this compartment was another central door with something +printed in German above it. The man knocked, opened this door, spoke to +someone, then came back and went away in the direction from which they +had come. + +Tom stood in the little compartment, not daring to sit down. He seemed +to be in a strange world, like that of the Arabian Nights. He did not +know whether the boat had descended or was still awash, or had come +boldly up to the surface. He knew that the tower through the hatch of +which he had descended was about in the middle, and that he had been +taken from that point almost to the bow. He thought this cosy little +room must be the commander's own private lair, and that probably the +commander's sleeping quarters lay beyond that door. Forward of that must +be the torpedo compartments. As to what lay astern, he supposed the +engines were there and the stern torpedo tubes, but the Teutons were so +impolite that they never showed him and all Tom ever really saw of the +interior of a German U-boat was the part of it which he had just +traversed, and which in a general sort of way reminded him of a +sleeping-car with the odor of a motorcycle. + +Presently, the forward door opened, and a young man with a very sallow +complexion entered. He wore a kind of dark blue jumper, the only +semblance of which to a uniform was that its few buttons were of brass. +He was twirling his mustache and looked at Tom with very keen eyes. + +"Vell, we are not so pad, huh? Ve don'd kill you!" + +Tom did not know exactly what to say, so he said, "I got to thank you." + +The man motioned to the settee and Tom sat down while he seated himself +in one of the swivel chairs. + +"Vell, vot's der matter?" he said, seeing Tom shiver. + +"I'm wet," said Tom; adding, "but I don't mind it." + +The man continued to look at him sharply. His questions were peremptory, +short, crisp. + +"You had a vite jacket?" + +"Yes, sir. I made a kind of a life preserver out of it." + +Tom suspected that they had seen him long before he had seen them and +that they had watched his struggles in the water. + +"Steward's poy, huh?" + +"I was captain's mess boy. The railing was broke and I never noticed it, +so I fell overboard. I don't think anybody else got hurt," he added. + +The man twirled his mustache, still with his keen eyes fixed on Tom. + +"You bring ofer a lot of droops?" It was a question, but he did not keep +his voice raised at the end, as one asking a question usually does. In +this sense a German never asks a question. He seemed to be making an +announcement and expecting Tom to confirm it. + +"Quite a lot," said Tom. + +"Two thousand, huh?" + +"I couldn't count them, there were so many." + +"How many trips you make?" + +"This was my first on a transport," said Tom. + +"Huh. You make Brest? Vere?" + +"It wasn't Brest," said Tom, "and I ain't supposed to tell you." + +"Vell, I ain't supposed to rescue you neither." + +"If you'd asked me before you rescued me, even then I wouldn't of told +you," said Tom simply. + +"Huh. You talk beeg. Look out!" + +And still he twirled his mustache. + +"Dey catch a spy, huh?" + +"Yes, they did," said Tom, feeling very much ashamed and wondering how +his questioner knew. Then it occurred to him that this very U-boat had +perhaps been watching for the signal light, and it gave him fresh +satisfaction to remember that _he_ had perhaps foiled this man who sat +there twirling his mustache. + +The commander did not pursue this line of inquiry, supposing, perhaps, +that a mess boy would not be informed as to such matters, but he +catechised Tom about everything else, foiled at every other question by +the stolid answer, "I ain't supposed to tell you." And he could not +frighten or browbeat or shake anything out of him. + +At length, he desisted, summoned a subordinate and poured a torrent of +German gibberish at him, the result of which was that Tom's wet clothes +were taken from him and he was ushered to one of the berths along the +aisle, presumably there to wait until they dried. + +He was sorry that they would not let him accompany his wet clothing aft +where the engines were, but he was relieved to find that he was +evidently not going to be thrown back into the ocean. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HE IS MADE A PRISONER AND MAKES A NEW FRIEND + + +It was just another German mistake in diplomacy or strategy or +browbeatery, or whatever you may call it. Tom had been rescued for the +information which he might give, and he gave none. It was not that he +was so clever, either. A fellow like Frenchy could have squeezed a whole +lot out of him without his realizing it, but Captain von +Something-or-other didn't know how to do it. And having failed, perhaps +it was to his credit that he did not have Tom thrown back into the +ocean. + +Tom would have liked to know whether the boat was still awash or +completely submerged. Above all, he was anxious to know what they +intended to do with him. The fact that the boat did not pitch or roll at +all made him think that it must be far below these surface disturbances, +but he did not dare to ask. + +When his clothes were returned to him he was given a piece of rye bread +and a cup of coffee, which greatly refreshed him, and he lay in one of +the bunks along the long aisle watching two of the Germans who were +playing cribbage. Once the commander came through like a conductor and +as he passed Tom he said, "Vell, you haf' more room soon." + +He said it in his usual gruff, decisive tone, but Tom felt that he had +intended to be agreeable and he wondered what he meant. + +After a while he fell asleep and slept the sleep of utter exhaustion. +When he awoke there was no one about, but he heard voices outside, +talking in German. Presently a soldier in one of the familiar German +helmets came in and beckoned to him. + +Tom followed him up the iron ladder, out through the hatch and down +another little ladder which was leaning against the outside of the +conning tower. The deck was quite free of the water and already it was +cluttered with tanks and cases ready to be stowed aboard. On either +side, ranged sideways in a long row, as if they were ready to start on a +race, were other U-boats, as many as thirty Tom thought, their low decks +the scene of much activity. + +On the wharf was a long line of hand trucks, each bearing what he +supposed to be a torpedo, and these looked exactly like miniature +submarines, minus the conning tower. + +These things he saw in one hurried, bewildered glance, for he was +allowed no opportunity for observation. Scarcely had he stepped off the +deck when two lame soldiers took him in hand. Another soldier, who was +not lame, stepped in front of him and he was directed by an officer who +managed the affair and spoke very good English, to keep his eyes upon +the little spire of that soldier's helmet. What he saw thereafter, he +saw only through the corners of his eyes, and these things consisted +chiefly of German signs on buildings. + +In this formation, with Tom's eyes fixed upon the little shiny spire +before him, a lame soldier limping on either side and an officer in +attendance, they marched to a stone building not far distant. Here he +was ushered into a room where two men in sailor suits and three or four +in oilskins sat about on benches. Two crippled soldiers guarded the door +and another, who stood by an inner door, wore a bandage about his head. + +[Illustration: TOM WAS DIRECTED TO KEEP HIS EYES UPON THE SOLDIER'S +HELMET.] + +"Blimy, I thought I was 'avin' me eyes tested," said one of the +sailors. "It's a bloomin' wonder they don't clap a pair o' blinders on +yer and be done with it!" + +Tom had not expected to hear any English spoken and it had never sounded +so good to him before. The sailor did not seem to be at all awed by the +grim surroundings, and his freedom from restraint was comforting to Tom +who had felt very apprehensive. He was soon to learn that the most +conspicuous and attractive thing about a British sailor or soldier is +his disposition to take things as he finds them and not to be greatly +concerned about anything. + +"Hi, Fritzie," he added, addressing one of the soldiers, "are we for +Wittenberg or carn't yer s'y?" The guard paid no attention. + +"It's no difference," said one of the men in oilskins. + +"It's a bloomin' lot o' difference," said the sailor, "whether you're +civilian or not, I can jolly well tell you! It's a short course in +Wittenberg--there and Slopsgotten, or wotever they calls it. And the +Spanish Ambassador, 'e calls to inquire arfter yer 'ealth every d'y. Hi +there, Fritzie, 'ave we long to wite, old pal?" + +As there seemed to be no objection to this freedom of speech, Tom +ventured a question. + +"Is this Germany?" + +"Germany? No, it's the Cannibal Islands," said the sailor, and everyone +except the guard laughed. + +"You're not from Blighty,[3] eh?" the sailor asked. + +"I'm American," said Tom; "I was ship's boy on a transport and I fell +off and a U-boat picked me up." + +"You're in Willlamshaven," the sailor told him, expressing no surprise +at his experience. + +"He's civilian," said one of the men in oilskins. "He's safe." + +"Mybe, and mybe not," said the sailor; "'ow old are yer?" + +"Seventeen," said Tom. + +"Transports aren't civilian," said the sailor. + +"Ship's boys are not naval in American service." + +"It's the ige of yer as does it," the sailor answered. "I'll wiger you +me first package from 'ome 'e goes to Slopsgotten." + +"What is Slopsgotten?" Tom asked. + +"It's the ship's boys' 'eaven." + +"I guess it ain't so good," said the man. + +"It's a grite big rice track," said the sailor. "Me cousin was there +afore the Yanks came in. Mr. Gerard 'e got him exchinged. They got a +'ole army o' Yanks there now--all civilian." + +"Is it a prison camp?" said Tom. + +"A bloomin' sailors' 'ome." + +"Were you captured?" Tom asked. + +"We're off a bloomin' mine l'yer," the sailor answered, including his +companion; "nabbed in the channel--'i, Freddie?" + +"An' I 'ad tickets in me pocket to tike me girl to the pl'y in +Piccadilly that night. Mybe she's witing yet," responded Freddie. + +"Let 'er wite. Hi, Fritzie, we're a-goin' to add four shillins' to the +bloomin' indemnity, to p'y fer the tickets!" + +Further conversation with this blithesome pair elicited the information +that they had been taken by a German destroyer while in a small boat in +the act of mine inspecting, and that the men in oilskins (the one who +had spoken being an American) were captives taken from a sunken British +trawler. + +One by one these prisoners were passed into an inner room where each +remained for about five minutes. When the sailor came out, he held up a +brass tag which had been fastened with a piece of wire to his +buttonhole. + +"I got me bloomin' iron cross," he said, "and I'm a-goin' to mike me +'ome in Slops! Kipe yer fingers crossed w'en yer go in there, Yank; tike +me advice!" + +"I hope I go there too if you're going," said Tom, "'cause you make it +seem not so bad, kind of, bein' a prisoner." + +"Hi, Fritzie!" the sailor called. "I got me reward for 'eroism!" + +But apparently the German soldier could not appreciate these frivolous +references to the sacred iron cross, for he glowered upon the young +Englishman, and turned away with a black look. + +"Hi, Fritzie, cawrn't yer tike a joke?" the sailor persisted. + +Tom thought it must be much better fun to be an English soldier than a +German soldier. And he thought this good-natured prisoner would be able +to hold his own even against a great Yankee drive--of jollying. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[3] England. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +HE LEARNS WHERE HE IS GOING AND FINDS A RAY OF HOPE + + +It seemed to Tom that the two German officials who sat behind a table +examining him, asked him every question which could possibly be framed +in connection with himself. And when they had finished, and the answers +had been written down, they made a few informal inquiries about American +troops and transports, which he was thankful that he could not answer. +When he returned to the ante-room he had fastened to his buttonhole a +brass disk with a number stamped upon it and a German word which was not +"Slopsgotten," though it looked as if it might be something like it. + +"Let's see," said the sailor; "didn't I jolly well tell yer? +Congratulations!" + +"Does it mean I go to Slopsgotten?" Tom asked. + +"They'll keep us there till the war's over, too," said the one called +Freddie. "We'll never get a good whack at Fritzie now." + +Tom's heart fell. + +"We'll be wittling souveneers out o' wood," Freddie concluded. + +"We'll have plenty o' wood," said his comrade. "The old Black Forest's +down that w'y." + +"It's just north of Alsice," Freddie said. + +"A pair o' wire nippers and a bit o' French----" + +"Shh," cautioned Freddie. + +"We m'y be ible to s'y 'Owdy' to General 'Aig yet." + +"Shh! We aren't even there yet." + +Tom listened eagerly to this talk and thought much about it afterward. +For one whole year he had longed to get into the war. He had waited for +his eighteenth birthday as a child waits for Christmas. He had gone on +the transport with the one thought of its bringing him nearer to +military service. He was going to fight like two soldiers because his +brother was--was not a soldier. + +And now it appeared that his part in the great war, his way of doing his +bit, was to lie in a prison camp until the whole thing was over. That +was worse than boring sticks in Bridgeboro and distributing badges. Tom +had never quarreled with Fate, he had even been reconciled to the +thought of dying as a spy; but he rebelled at this prospect. + +Instinctively, as he and his two philosophical companions were placed +aboard the train, he reached down into his trousers pocket and found the +little iron button which Frenchy had given him. He clutched it as if it +were a life preserver, until his hand was warm and sweaty from holding +it. + +It seemed his last forlorn hope now. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HE MAKES A HIGH RESOLVE AND LOSES A FAVORITE WORD + + +Miss Margaret Ellison, the stenographer in the Temple Camp office, had +once pronounced judgment on Tom. It was that if he made up his mind to +do a thing he would do it. There was something about his big mouth and +his dogged scowl which made this prophecy seem likely of fulfilment. + +And now, silently, he threw his challenge down before Fate, before +Germany, before barbed wire entanglements--before everything and +everybody. He did not know whether they ever paroled ordinary prisoners, +but he hoped they would not parole him, because then he would be bound +by honor. And he did not want to be bound by honor. He kept his hand in +his pocket, grasping his precious button, and it was well that the +German officials did not know what was in his mind. + +"I ain't goin' to be cheated out of it now," he said to himself; "I +don't care what." + +All day long they journeyed in the box car, but Tom could see nothing of +Germany save an occasional glimpse now and then when the sliding door +was opened at the stations, usually to admit more prisoners. Whatever +became of the men from the British trawler he never knew, but his +jack-tar companions were with him still and helped to keep up his +spirits. He never knew them by any other names than Freddie and +Tennert--the first name of one and the last name of the other--but so +great was his liking for them that it included the whole of sturdy, +plodding, indomitable old England into the bargain. They never talked +patriotism, and seemed to regard the war merely as a sort of a job that +had to be done--just like any other job. Early in the day before the car +filled up, Tom talked a good deal with them and as there was no guard +inside, the conversation was free. + +"When you said, 'Shh'," said Tom at one time, "I knew what you was +thinkin' about. I was never in a war," he added innocently, "so I don't +know much about it. But if I was sent to jail for--say, for stealing--I +wouldn't think I had a right to escape." + +"You'd be a pretty honorable sort of a thief," said Freddie. + +"But, anyway," said Tom, "I was going to ask you about escapin' from a +military prison. That ain't dishonorable, is it?" + +"No, strike me blind, it ain't! But it's jolly 'ard!" said Tennert. + +"It's fer them to keep yer and fer you to grease off, if you can," said +Freddie. "If you give your parole, it's like a treaty----" + +"A bloomin' scrap o' piper," interrupted Tennert. "They wouldn't put you +on yer honor because they don't know what honor is. It ain't in +Fritzie's old dictionary." + +Tom was glad to think of it in this way. _It's for them to keep you and +for you to grease off_ (which evidently meant "get away"). He had great +respect for the opinions of these two Britishers and his mind dwelt upon +this only hope even before he had so much as a glimpse of his prison. + +He meant to fight with the American forces, in spite of Fate and in +spite of Germany. Germany had armed guards and barbed wire +entanglements. Tom, on his side, had an iron button, a big mouth, a +look of dogged determination, a sense of having been grossly cheated +after he had made a considerable investment in time and a good deal of +scout pluck and Yankee resource. The only thing that had stood in the +way was the question of honor, and that was now settled on the high +authority of the British navy! Who but sturdy old John Bull had come +forward when Belgium was being violated? And now a couple of John Bull's +jack-tars had told him that it was for Germany to keep him and for him +to get away if he could. + +He was on the point of telling them of his double reason for wanting to +escape; that he had to fight for two--himself and his brother. Then he +thought he wouldn't for fear they might not understand. + +But he made up his mind that henceforth all his efforts and activities +should be of double strength--to make up. He would think twice as hard, +work twice as hard, fight twice as hard. Above all he would try twice as +hard as he otherwise would have done, to get out of this predicament and +get to the battlefront. He was glad of his scout training which he +thought might help him a great deal now. And he would put every quality +he had to the supreme test. + +"Do you believe," he asked, after a considerable silence, "that a feller +can do more, kind of, if he's doing his own work and--I mean if he +thinks he's got to do two people's work--for a special reason?" + +Freddie did not seem quite to "get" him, but Tennert answered readily, +"You jolly well can! Look at Kippers wot cime 'ome fer orspital +treatment arfter Verdoon. 'E lived in Chelsea. 'Is pal got sniped an' +Fritzie took 'is shoes. They're awrful short o' shoes. Kippers, 'e s'ys, +'I'll not l'y down me rifle till I plunk[4] a German and get 'is shoes.' +Two d'ys arfter 'e comes crawlin' back through No Man's Land and the +color sergeant arsks 'im did 'e carry out 'is resolootion. 'Yes,' s'ys +'e, 'but blimy, I 'ad to plunk seven Germans before I could get a pair +o' clods to fit me.' 'E was usin' 'is pal's strength too besides 'is +own. Any Tommy'll tell yer a lad wot's dyin' on the field can leave 'is +fightin' spunk to anyone 'e pleases." + +Tom stared open-eyed. He found it easy to believe this superstition of +Tommy Atkins'. And he made up his mind anew that he would square matters +with Uncle Sam by doing the work of two. + + * * * * * + +In the afternoon this pleasant chatting was made impossible by the +numbers of military prisoners who were herded into the rough box car. +They had come far enough south to be abreast of Belgium now and there +must lately have been a successful German raid along the Flanders front, +for both British and Belgian soldiers were driven aboard by the score. +All of the British seemed exactly like Tennert and Freddie, cheerful, +philosophical, chatting about Fritzie and the war as if the whole thing +were a huge cricket game. Some of these were taken off farther down the +line, to be sent to different camps, Tom supposed. + +At last, after an all day's ride, they reached their destination. But +alas, there was no such place as Slopsgotten! Tom was sorry for this for +he liked the name. It sounded funny when his English friends said it. +Schlaabgaurtn, was the way he read it on the railroad station. He felt +disappointed and aggrieved. He was by no means sure of the letters, and +pronunciation was out of the question. He liked Slopsgotten. In +Tennert's mouth he had almost come to love it. + +It was the only thing about Germany that he liked, and now he had to +give it up! + +Slopsgotten! + +FOOTNOTE: + +[4] Kill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HE GOES TO THE CIVILIAN CAMP AND DOESN'T LIKE IT + + +"'Ere we are in bloomin' old Slops! Not 'arf bad, wot? Another inch and +we'd bunk our noses plunk into Alsice! Wot d'ye s'y, Freddie?" + +"I s'y it's the back o' the old front. The only thing in the w'y is the +mountains. Hi, Yankee! You see 'em? It's the ole mountains out of the +song." + +Tom looked at a distant range of blue-gray heights. Crossing those +somewhere was the battle line--the long, sweeping line which began far +off at the Belgian coast. How lonesome and romantic it must be for the +soldiers up in those wild hills. Somewhere through there years ago +Frenchy had fled from German tyranny and pursuit, away from his beloved +ancestral home. Funny, thought Tom, that he should see both the eastern +and western extremities of France without ever crossing it. + +He was much nearer the front than he had been when he talked with Mr. +Conne in the little French cemetery. Yet how much farther away! A +prisoner in Germany, with a glowering, sullen Prussian guard at his very +elbow! + +"We used to sing about them when I went to school," he said. "'The Blue +Alsatian Mountains.'" + +"I'd jolly well like to be on the other side o' them," said Freddie. + +Tom clutched the little iron button in his pocket. Something prompted +him to pull a button off his trousers and to work his little talisman +into the torn place so that it would look like a suspender button. Then +he turned again to gaze at the fair country which he supposed to be one +of France's lost provinces--the home of Frenchy. + +"There ain't much trouble crossing mountains," said he; "all you need is +a compass. I don't know if they have tree-toads here, but I could find +out which is north and south that way if they have." + +"Blimy, if we don't listen and see if we can 'ear 'em s'ying 'polly voo +Fransay' in the trees!" said Tennert. + +"But a feller could never get into France that way," said Tom. "'Cause +he'd have to cross the battle line. The only way would be to go down +around through Switzerland--around the end of the line, kind of." + +"Down through Alsice," grunted Tennert. + +"'E'd 'ave a 'underd miles of it," said Freddie. + +"Unless Fritzie offered 'im a carriage. Hi, Fritzie, w'en do we have +tea?" + +They made no secret of this dangerous topic--perhaps because they knew +the idea of escape from the clutches of Germany was so preposterous. In +any event, "Fritzie" did not seem greatly interested. + +They were grouped at the station, a woebegone looking lot, despite their +blithe demeanor. There were a dozen or more of them, in every variety of +military and naval rags and tatters. Tom was coatless and the rest of +his clothing was very much the worse for salt water. The sailor suits of +his two companions were faded and torn, and Freddie suffered the +handicap of a lost shoe. The rest were all young. Tom thought they might +be drummer boys or despatch riders, or something like that. Several of +them were slightly wounded, but none seriously, for Germany does not +bother with prisoners who require much care. They were the residue of +many who had come and gone in that long monotonous trip. Some had been +taken off for the big camps at Wittenberg and Goettingen. As well as he +could judge, he had to thank his non-combatant character as well as his +youth for the advantages of "Slopsgotten." + +When the hapless prisoners had been examined and searched and relieved +of their few possessions, they were marched to the neighboring camp--a +civilian camp it was called, although it was hardly limited to that. +They made a sad little procession as they passed through the street of +the quaint old town. Some jeered at them, but for the most part the +people watched silently as they went by. Either they had not the spirit +for ridicule, or they were too accustomed to such sights to be moved to +comment. + +Tom thought he had never in his life seen so many cripples; and instead +of feeling sorry for himself his pity was aroused for these maimed young +fellows, hanging on crutches and with armless coat sleeves, hollow-eyed +and sallow, who braved the law to see the little cavalcade go by. For +later he learned that a heavy fine was imposed on these poor wretches if +they showed themselves before enemy prisoners, and he wondered where +they got the money to pay the fines. + +The prison camp was in the form of a great oval and looked as if it +might formerly have been a "rice track," as the all-knowing Tennert had +said. It was entirely surrounded by a high barbed wire fence, the +vicious wire interwoven this way and that into a mesh, the very sight of +which must have been forbidding to the ambitious fugitive. It was not, +however, electrified as in the strictly military prisons and on the +frontiers. Tom was told that this was because it was chiefly a civilian +camp, but he later learned that it was because of a shortage of coal. + +The buildings which had formerly been stables and open stalls had been +converted into living quarters, and odds and ends of lumber gathered +from the neighboring town had been used to throw up rough shacks for +additional quarters. + +Straw was the only bedding and such food as the authorities supplied was +dumped onto rusty tin dishes held out by the hungry prisoners. Some of +these dishes had big holes in them and when such a plate became unusable +it behooved its possessor to make friends with someone whose dish was +not so far gone and share it with him. Some of the men carved wooden +dishes, for there was nothing much to do with one's time, until their +knives were taken from them. The life was one of grinding monotony and +utter squalor, and the time which Tom spent there was the nightmare of +his life. + +Occasionally someone from the Spanish Embassy in Berlin would visit the +camp in the interest of the Americans, the effect of these visits +usually being to greatly anger the retired old German officer who was +commandant. He had a face like the sun at noon-day, a voice like a +cannon, and the mere asking of a question set him into a rage. + +Many of the prisoners, of whom not a few were young Americans, received +packages from home, through neutral sources--food, games, tobacco--which +were always shared with their comrades. But Tom was slow in getting +acquainted and before he had reached the stage of intimacy with anyone, +something happened. He still retained his companionable status with +Tennert and Freddie, but they fell in with their own set from good old +"Blighty" and Tom saw little of them. + +There was absolutely no rule of life in the prison camp. They were +simply kept from getting away. Besides conferring this favor upon them, +about the only thing which the German government did was to send a +doctor around occasionally to look down their throats and inspect their +tongues. If a prisoner became ill, it behooved him to find another +prisoner who had studied medicine and then wait until old General +Griffenhaus was in a sufficiently good humor to give him medicines. +General Griffenhaus was not cruel; perhaps he would have been pleasant +if he had known how. + +As fast as Tom learned the custom, he adapted himself to the lazy, +go-as-you-please kind of life. He scared up a rusty tin plate, made +himself a straw bed in a boarded-in box stall, got hold of an old burlap +bag which he wore as a kind of tunic while washing his clothes, and +idled about listening to the war experiences of others. He had thought +his own experiences rather remarkable, but now they seemed so tame that +he did not venture to tell them. Fights with German raiders, rescues +after days spent on the ocean, chats about the drive for Paris, the +"try" at Verdun, the adventures of captured aviators--these things and +many more, were familiarly discussed in the little sprawling groups +among which he came to be a silent listener. In a way, it reminded him +of camping and campfire yarns, except for the squalor and disorder. + +Of course, there was general work to be done, but the officials did not +concern themselves about this until it became absolutely necessary. No +one could say that the German discipline was strict. When the prisoners +discovered that one or other of their number was good at this or that +sort of work they elected him to attend to those matters--whether it was +sweeping, settling quarrels, cooking, writing letters, petitioning "Old +Griff," shaving, pulling teeth, or what not. Each prisoner contributed +his knowledge and experience to make life bearable for all. The camp was +a _democracy_, but Germany didn't seem to object. If the prisoners +wished to dig a drain trench or a refuse pit, they asked for shovels. +And sometimes they got them. Prisoners, ragged and forlorn, came to be +known by the most dignified titles. There was the "consulting +architect," the "sanitary inspector," the "secretary of state," the +"chairman of the committee on kicks," etc. + +And one momentous day Tom met the "chief engineer." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HE VISITS THE OLD PUMP AND RECEIVES A SHOCK + + +"It's all happy-go-lucky here," said a young American from somewhere in +Kansas, who had been raked in with a haul of prisoners from a torpedoed +liner. "We used the water at the pump as long as the engines worked; +then we shouldered our buckets and began going down to the brook. When +the buckets went to pieces, we made a few out of canvas and they're not +half bad." + +Tom had inquired why they went down to the end of the oval to get water +when there was a pump up in the middle of the grounds. + +"So there you are," concluded his informer. + +"Is the engine supposed to pump water up from the brook?" Tom asked. + +"It isn't supposed to do anything," said the other, "it used to be +supposed to, but it's retired." + +"I thought Germany was so efficient," said Tom. "I should think they'd +fix it. Can't it be fixed?" + +"Not by anyone here, it seems. You see, they won't let us have any +tools--wrenches, or files or anything. If you mention a file to Old +Griff, he throws a couple of fits. Thinks you want to cut the barbed +wire." + +"Then why don't _they_ fix it?" + +"Ah, a question. I suppose they think the exercise of trotting down to +the brook will do us good. I dare say if the chief engineer could get +hold of a file he could fix it; seems to think he could, anyway. But gas +engines are funny things." + +"You're right they are," said Tom, thinking of the troop's motor boat +away home in Bridgeboro. "Of course, _I_ don't mind the walk down +there," he added, "only it seemed kind of funny----" + +"It's tragic for some of these lame fellows." + +"Who _is_ the chief engineer," Tom asked. + +"Oh, he's a kid that was a despatch rider, I think. Anyway, he's wise to +motorcycles. He's had several consulting engineers on the job--Belgian, +French, and British talent--but nothin' doing. He's gradually losing his +head." + +"You couldn't exactly blame them for not letting him have a file," Tom +said, reasonably enough, "or a wrench either for that matter, unless +they watched him all the time." + +"Nah!" laughed his companion. "Nobody could file through that fence wire +without the sentries hearing him; it's as thick as a slate pencil, +almost." + +"Just the same you can't blame General Griffenhaus for not being willing +to give files to prisoners. That's the way prisoners always get away--in +stories." + +About dusk of the same day Tom wandered to the pump, which was not far +from the center of the vast oval. On the earth beside it a ragged figure +sat, its back toward Tom, evidently investigating the obstreperous +engine. Tom had never taken particular notice of this disused pump or of +the little engine which, in happy days of yore, had brought the water up +from the brook and made it available for the pump in a well below. + +"Trying to dope it out?" he asked, by way of being sociable. + +The "chief engineer," who had half turned before Tom spoke, jumped to +his feet as if frightened and stared blankly at Tom, who stood stark +still gaping at him. + +"Well--I'll--be----" began the "chief engineer." + +Tom was grinning all over his face. + +"Hello, Archer!" + +"Chrr-is-to-pherr _Crrinkums_!" said Archer, with that familiar up-state +roll to his R's. "Where in all _get-out_ did _you_ blow in from? I +thought you was dead!" + +"You didn't think I was any deader than I thought you was," said Tom, +with something of his old dull manner. + +"Cr-a-ab apples and custarrd pies!" Archer exclaimed, still hardly able +to believe his eyes. "I sure did think you was at the bottom of the +ocean!" + +"I didn't ever think I'd see _you_ again, either," said Tom. + +So the "chief engineer" proved to be none other than Archibald +Archer--whose far-off home in the good old Catskills was almost within a +stone's throw of Temple Camp--Archibald Archer, steward's boy on the +poor old liner on which he had gotten Tom a job the year before. + +"I might of known nothing would kill _you_," Tom said. "Mr. Conne +always said you'd land right side up. Do you eat apples as much as you +used to?" + +"More," said Archer, "when I can get 'em." + +The poor old gas engine had to wait now while the two boys who had been +such close friends sat down beside the disused pump in this German +prison camp, and told each other of their escape from that torpedoed +liner and of all that had befallen them since. And Tom felt that the war +was not so bad, nor the squalid prison community either, since it had +brought himself and Archibald Archer together again. + +But Archer's tale alone would have filled a book. He was just finishing +an apple, so he said, and was about to shy the core at the second purser +when the torpedo hit the ship. He was sorry he hadn't thrown the core a +little quicker. + +He jumped for a life boat, missed it, swam to another, drifted with its +famished occupants to the coast of Ireland, made his way to London, got +a job on a channel steamer carrying troops, guyed the troops and became +a torment and a nuisance generally, collected souvenirs with his old +tenacity, and wound up in France, where, on the strength of being able +to shrug his shoulders and say, _Oui_, _oui_, he got along famously. + +He had managed to wriggle into military service without the customary +delays, and in the capacity of messenger he had ridden a motorcycle +between various headquarters and the front until he had been caught by +the Germans in a raid while he was engaged in giving an imitation of +Charlie Chaplin in the French trenches. He spoke of General Haig as +"Haigy;" of General Byng as "Bing Bang;" and his French was a circus all +by itself. According to his account, he had been a prime favorite with +all the high dignitaries of the war, and he attributed this to the fact +that he was not afraid of them. In short, it was the same old flippant, +boastful, R-rolling Archibald Archer who had won many a laugh from sober +Tom Slade. And here he was again as large as life--larger, in fact. + +It was a long time before they got down to the subject of the engine, +but when they did they discussed it for the greater part of the night, +for, of course, they bunked together. + +"First I thought it was the triphammer," said Archer; "then I thought it +was the mixing valve; then I thought it was bronchitis on account of the +noise it made, and after that I decided it was German measles. Blamed +if I know what's the matter with it. It's got the pip, I guess. I was +going to file a nick in the make-and-break business but they're too foxy +to give me a file. Now I wish I had a hammer and I'd knock the whole +blamed business to smithereens." + +"Have a heart," laughed Tom. "And keep still, I want to go asleep. We'll +look at it in the morning." + +"Did I tell you how we made a hand grenade full of old tomatoes near +Rheims?" + +"No, but I want to go to sleep now," said Tom. + +"It landed plunk on a German officer's bun; Charlie Waite saw it from +his plane." + +"Good night," laughed Tom. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +HE HAS AN IDEA WHICH SUGGESTS ANOTHER + + +In the morning, after grub line-up, they lost no time in going to the +pump. Here, at least, was something to occupy Tom's mind and afford +Archer fresh material for banter. + +"D'I tell you how I was kiddin' the niggerr we had in the life +boat--when it was leakin'?" + +"No," said Tom, ready for anything. + +"Told him to bore anotherr hole so the waterr could get out again. Did I +tell you 'bout----" + +"Here we are, let's take a look at the engine," said Tom. + +It was one of those one-cylinder kickers, about two horse power, and had +an independent disposition. + +"Know what I think would be the best thing for it?" said the chief +engineer. "Dynamite. D'I tell you 'bout the sharrk eatin' a bomb?" + +"Is there any gas in the tank?" said Tom. + +"Sure is, but I dunno what kind it is. Mebbe it's poison gas, for all +_I_ know. There was a fellow in Ireland when we----" + +Tom ignored him, and making a guess adjustment of the mixing valve, +opened the gas and threw the wheel over. "No batteries--magneto, huh?" + +"Yes, but it don't magnete. I'd ruther have a couple o' batteries that +would _bat_." + +A few crankings and the little engine started, missing frightfully. + +"She'll stop in a minute," said Archer, and so she did. "We've all taken +a crack at the carbureter and the timer," he added, "but nothin' doin'. +It's cussedness, _I_ say." + +Tom started it again, listening as it missed, went faster, slowed down, +stopped. It was getting gas and getting air and the bearings did not +bind. He tried it again. It ran lamely and stopped, but started all +right again whenever he cranked it, provided he waited a minute or two +between each trial. + +"Can you beat that?" said Archer. + +"There's water getting into the cylinder," Tom said. + +"Cylinder's lucky. _We_ poor guys got to go way down the other end of +the earth to get water." + +"Maybe the water in the water jacket froze last winter and cracked the +cylinder wall and the crack didn't let any through at first, most +likely. You can't get your explosions right if there's water. That's why +it starts first off and keeps going till the water works through. +'Tisn't much of a crack, I guess. A file wouldn't be any more use than a +teaspoon." + +"A _what_? Believe _me_, I wouldn't know a teaspoon if I saw one," said +Archer. + +"If we had a wrench to get the cylinder head off," said Tom, "I could +show you." + +"It's the end of that engine," said Archer. + +"Depends on how bad it is. If it's only a little crack sometimes you can +fix it with a chemical--sal ammoniac. It kind of--_corrodes_, I think +they call it--right where the crack is and it'll work all right for +quite a while. We had a cracked cylinder on our scout boat one time." + +Archer was generously pleased at Tom's sagacity and showed no +professional jealousy. Before that day was over every prisoner in the +camp knew that the rusty, dilapidated engine which languished near the +pump was good for another season of usefulness. If Archer was not a +good engineer he was at least a good promoter, and he started a grand +drive for a rejuvenated pump. The R's rolled out of his busy mouth as +the water had not flowed from the pump in many a day. + +A petition a yard long was passed about and everybody signed it with +lukewarm interest. It besought General von Griffenhaus either to have +the cylinder head of the engine removed or a wrench loaned to Tom Slade +for that purpose. + +The prisoners did not lose any sleep over this enterprise, for both Tom +and Archer were young and Archer at least was regarded as an +irresponsible soul, whose mission on earth was to cause trifling +annoyance and much amusement. Tom, sober, silent and new among them, was +an unknown quantity. + +"Doncher care," said Archer. "Robert Fulton had a lot o' trouble and +nobuddy b'lieved him, and all that." + +Tom was ready to stand upon his pronouncement of a cracked water jacket +and, that established, he believed a little bottle of sal ammoniac would +be easy to procure. When the pump was running again they would all be +glad to use it and meanwhile they might laugh and call him the +"consulting engineer" if they wanted to. + +At last Archer, having boosted this laggard campaign with amazing +energy, elected himself the one to present the imposing petition to +General von Griffenhaus, because, as he said, he was never rattled in +the presence of greatness, which was quite true. He caught the general +on inspection tour and prayed for a monkey wrench with the humility but +determination of the old barons before King John. + +When he returned to their box-stall abode he triumphantly announced that +"Old Griff" had surrendered with the one portentous sentence, "Ach! I +vill see aboud this!" He found Tom sitting back against the board +partition, arms about his drawn-up knees, sober and thoughtful. + +"Ain't gettin' cold feet, are you?" Archer asked. + +Tom looked at him, but did not speak. + +"You ain't afraid there's something else the matter with the engine, +after all, are you?" Archer asked, anxiously. "I don't want this whole +bunch guyin' me--afterr the petition, and all." + +"It's the way I said," said Tom dully. + +"Not sore 'cause they've been kiddin' us, are you? You can't blame 'em +fer that; they've got nothin' else to do. Look at Columbus, how they +guyed him--and all. But they were thankful afterward all right, all +right--those greasy Spaniards. D'I tell you 'bout the way I----" + +"I don't mind their kiddin'," Tom interrupted; "I had a lot of that on +the ship. And I know they'll be glad when the pump's running. I was +thinkin' about something else. Come on, let's go out and hike." He +always called those little restricted walks about the enclosure, hiking. +He could not forget the good scout word. + +When they had walked for some little way Tom looked about to see if +there was anyone near. The safest place for secrets and confidences is +out in the open. He hesitated, made a couple of false starts, then +began: + +"There's somethin' I've always thought about ever since I came here. I +don't know if you've ever thought about it--I know you like adventures, +but you're kind of----" He meant irresponsible and rattle-brained, but +he did not want to say so. "And I wouldn't want to see you get in any +trouble on account of me. You're different from me. You see, for a +special reason I got to go and fight. Whatever you do, will you promise +not to say anything to anybody?" + +Archer, somewhat bewildered, promised. + +"I'm going to get away," said Tom simply. + +"You must be crazy," Archer said, staring at him in astonishment. "How +are you going to do it? Didn't I tell you, you couldn't even get a +file?" + +Tom went on seriously. + +"I'd like to have you go with me only I don't know if you'd want to take +a chance the same as I would." + +"Sure, I'd take a chance, but----" + +"_You_ don't _have_ to go and I do," Tom interrupted. "That's what I +mean. If the war should end and I didn't fight, I'd be a kind of a---- I +mean I got to fight for two people. I _got_ to. So it ain't a question +of whether I take a chance or not. And it ain't a question of whether +it's fair to try and escape. 'Cause I got that all settled." + +Archer said nothing, but looked at Tom just as he had first looked at +him a year ago, and tried to dope him out. For a few paces they walked +in silence. + +"If you take a chance, I take a chance with you," Archer said. + +"If anybody should discover us and call for us to halt, I'm not going +to halt," said Tom. + +"Believe _me_, I'll sprint," said Archer, "but that part's a cinch +anyway----" + +"It ain't a cinch," said Tom, "but I got to do it. I got a little button +a French soldier gave me that'll help me get through Alsace. His people +live there--in Leture--I mean Dundgardt." + +"That's only six miles down," said Archer. + +"That's so much the better," said Tom; "if I can once get that far----" + +"Don't say _I_--say _we_." + +"We'll be all right," finished Tom. + +"But what's the use talking about it, when we got that tangle of wire +out there in front of us all the way round?" + +"You know where it runs through the bushes at the other end?" said Tom. + +"Yes, and if you made a sound down there you'd be heard! Besides, where +you goin' to get the file?" + +"I'm hoping to have that to-morrow." + +"You got your work cut out for you, gettin' it." + +"If that stuff will corrode a cylinder wall it'll corrode wire," said +Tom, after a few moments' silence. "It might take a few days, but after +that you could break the wire with your fingers. It wouldn't make any +noise. That ain't what I wanted to ask you about--'cause I know about +that. The thing is, are you with me? You got to judge for yourself, +'cause it's risky." + +Archer hit him a rap on the shoulder, then put his arm in friendly +fashion about his neck. + +"Slady, I'm with you strong as mustarrd," said he; "did I tell you 'bout +the feller I met in France that escaped from Siberia----" + +"And keep your mouth shut," said Tom. "First we got to fix the engine." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +HE PLANS A DESPERATE GAME AND DOES A GOOD JOB + + +Archer was thoroughly game, Tom knew that, but he did not want to +involve him in his own peril unless his friend fully realized what it +meant. With himself, as he had said, it was different. But he might have +saved himself any worry about his friend. Archer was not only game; he +was delighted. + +Needless to say, they slept little that night. In the morning they were +given a wrench with which they removed the cylinder head amid the gibes +of a group of spectators. And there, sure enough, after the piston was +disconnected and removed, they found a little, thin crack in the inner +cylinder wall. + +"Feel o' that," said Archer, triumphantly rubbing his finger nail across +it, for it was more easily felt than seen, "and then go away back and +sit down, the whole bunch of you. We got a _regularr_ chief engineer +here now," he added generously, "and you better treat him decent while +he's here." + +Tom shuddered for fear he would say too much. + +"He might get exchanged any time," said Archer. + +"_Some_ boys," remarked one of the prisoners. + +"But findin's ain't fixin's," said a British soldier. + +"Oh, ain't they though!" said Archer. "We'll have it fixed in---- How +long'll it take to fix it, Slady?" + +"Maybe a couple of days," said Tom. + +"Mybe a couple o' weeks," said the Britisher. + +"Mybe it won't, yer jolly good bloomin' ole London fag, you!" mimicked +Archer. "It's as good as fixed already." + +"Better knock wood, Archie." + +"I'll knock something thickerr'n wood if you don't get out o' the way!" +said Archer. + +One by one they strolled away laughing. + +"I'll give that bunch one parting shot, all right!" said Archer. + +"Shh!" said Tom, "look out what you're saying." + +Whether it was because the grim authorities who presided over +this unfortunate community believed that the renewed activity of +the pump would be advantageous to themselves, or whether it was +just out of the goodness of their hearts that they supplied the +small quantity of sal ammoniac, it would be difficult to say, but +in the afternoon a small bottle was forthcoming with the label of +Herman Schlossen-something-or-other, chemist, of the neighboring +town. + +The boys smeared some of it on the crack and then poured some into a +little vial which had contained toothache drops. + +"Things are so bad in Gerrmany they have to use sal ammoniac for files," +said Archer. "If the warr keeps up much longer the poor people'll be +usin' witch hazel for screw drivers." + +"Shhh!" said Tom. It was about all he ever said now. + +After dark, with fast beating hearts, they went down to the place which +Tom had selected for their operations. It was near the extreme end of +the grounds, at a place where the wire ran through some thick shrubbery. +Even a file might have been used here, if a file had been procurable, +for one might work fully concealed though always in danger of the +sentry's hearing the sound. But no file could ever get inside of that +camp. They were not even obtainable in the stores of the neighboring +town, except upon government order and every letter and package that +came to the camp was scrutinized with German thoroughness. Since the +recent army reorganization in which the number of sentries at camps all +through the Empire had been reduced, and since the discontinuance of +electrified wiring at this particular camp, the little file was watched +for with greater suspicion than ever before, so that the prisoners had +regarded it as a joke when Archer expressed the wish for one. The very +thought of a file on the premises was preposterous. And what other way +was there to get out? + +It was necessary, however, to watch for the sentry outside and here was +where the team work came in. Archer spotted the gleam of his rifle at +some distance up near the provision gate, and he scurried in that +direction to hold him with his usual engaging banter, for even glowering +"Fritzie" was not altogether proof against young Archer's wiles and his +extraordinary German. + +Meanwhile, Tom, first looking in every direction, slipped under the +bushes and felt carefully of the wiring. It was not simple flat fencing +ranged in orderly strands, but somewhat like the entanglements before +the trenches. As best he could, in the dim light, he selected seven +places where, if the wiring were parted, he believed it would be +possible to get through. The seven points involved four wires. He had to +use his brain and calculate, as one does when seeking for the +"combination" of a knotted rope, and his old scout habit of studying +jungle bush before parting it when on scout hikes, served him in good +stead here. He was nothing if not methodical, and neither the danger nor +his high hopes interfered with his plodding thoroughness. + +Having selected the places, he poured a little of the liquid on the +wiring at each spot and hid the bottle in the bushes. Then he rejoined +Archer, the first step taken in their risky program. + +"How'll I know the places if I go there?" Archer inquired. + +"You won't go there," said Tom. "I'll be the one to do that." + +"I'm the entertainment committee, hey?" + +There was no sleep that night either--nothing but silent thoughtfulness +and high expectation and dreadful suspense; for, notwithstanding +Archer's loquacity, Tom refused positively to talk in their box stall +for fear some one outside might hear. + +In the morning they gave the crack in the cylinder another dose (but +oh, how prosy and unimportant seemed this business now), and at evening +they screwed down the cylinder head, and with a gibing audience about +them, wrestled with the mixing valve, slammed the timer this way and +that, until the dilapidated old engine began to go--and kept on going. + +"There you are," said Archer blithely, as if the glory were all his. +"Who're the public benefactors now? Every time you get a drink at that +pump you'll think of Slady and me. Hey, Slady?" + +The engine kept on going until they stopped it. And the Philistines put +aside their unholy mirth and did not stint their praise and gratitude. + +"Two plaguy clever American chaps," said a ragged British wireless +operator. + +"Slade and Archer, Consulting Engineers," said Archer. + +It was a great triumph--one of the greatest of the world war, and the +only reason that mankind has not heard more about it is probably because +of the grudging German censor. + +"I'm glad it went," said Archer confidentially. "I was shaking in my +shoes." + +"There wasn't any reason to shake," said Tom. "I knew it would go." + +"Same as we will." + +"Hush," said Tom. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +HE DISAPPEARS--FOR THE TIME BEING + + +Tom was too sensible to make his trip to the bushes each night. For one +thing he wanted to give the mildly corrosive process a chance to weaken +the wires. It was a case for small doses. Also he could not afford to +attract attention. His hardest job was keeping Archer patient and quiet. + +When he did manage a second trip he was gratified to see that the spots +he had "treated" were white and salty, like the bar in a battery. He +gave them another dose and crawled out cautiously. + +Archer, in his excitement, had supposed the whole thing would be a +matter of a day or two and his impatience greatly disturbed Tom. + +"Don't you see, if I try to break the wires before they're ready, we'll +be worse off than ever?" he said. "Leave it to me." + +At last there came a dark night when Tom announced in a whisper that he +had used the last of the sal ammoniac. + +"The wires are all white," he said, "and you can scrape into them with +your finger-nails. It's good and dark to-night. If you want to back out +you can. I won't be sore about it. Only tell me again about the road to +Dundgardt." + +"Didn't I tell you I was with you strong as mustarrd? I don't want to +back out." + +A while after dark Tom went down to the bushes. It was understood that +Archer should follow him, timing his coming according to the sentry's +rounds. Meanwhile Tom, not without some misgivings, bent the thick wire +in one of the weakened spots and it broke. He paused and listened. Then +he broke another strand, trembling lest even the breaking might cause a +slight sound. The life had been eaten out of the wires and they parted +easily. + +By the time Archer arrived he had opened a way through the thick +entanglement large enough to crawl through. His nerves were on edge as +he wriggled far enough through to peer about in the dark outside. + +"Anyway, your head has escaped," said Archer. + +"Shh," whispered Tom. + +Far down the side of the long fence he could see a little glint bobbing +in the darkness. + +"Shh," he whispered. "I don't know which way he's going. Keep your feet +still." + +For a few seconds more he waited, his heart in his mouth and every nerve +tense. + +The tiny bobbing glint disappeared. + +"Is he there?" Archer whispered. + +"Shh! No, he's gone around the end." + +"He won't go all the way round; he'll turn back when he gets to the +gate. Go on, make a break----" + +"Shh!" said Tom, straining his eyes in all directions. + +For one moment of awful suspense he waited, his thumping heart almost +choking him. Then he moved silently out into the night, and paused +again, holding a deterring hand up to keep his companion back until he +knew the way was clear. + +Then he moved his hand. + +"Come on," he whispered, his whole frame trembling with suspense. "Let's +get away from the fence. Don't speak." + +There was something of the old stalking and trailing stealth about his +movements now as he hurried across the field adjacent to the camp. +"Follow me," he whispered, "and do just what I do. What's that you've +got in your hand?" + +"Nothin'. Where you goin'? The road ain't over there." + +"Shhh!" + +Silently Tom stole across the field. + +"You're goin' out of your way," whispered Archer again. + +"I don't want the road, I only want to know where it is," Tom answered; +"I know what I'm doing." + +He had never dreamed that his tracking and trailing lore would one day +serve him in far-off Germany and help him in so desperate a flight. +Never before had he such need of all his wit--and such an incentive. + +Archer followed silently. Presently Tom paused and listened. + +"Anybody comin'?" + +"No, I was listenin' for--it's down there." + +He turned suddenly and grabbing Archer around the waist, lifted him off +his feet and ran swiftly down a little slope and into the brook which in +its meanderings crossed an end of the prison grounds. Then he let Archer +down. + +"They'll never track us here," he panted, and felt for his precious +button to make sure that Archer's body had not pulled it off. "They'll +think only one came this way, maybe, and they won't know which way to +go--Shh!" + +Archer held his breath. There was no sound except that of the water +rippling at their feet. + +"Is that upstream?" Tom asked. "It ought to be shallow all the way. Keep +in the water." + +"Step on that shore and you're in Alsace," said Archer. + +"Don't step on it," said Tom. "Shores are tell-tales. Which is the +hill?" + +"That one with the windmill on it." + +"That black thing?" + +"The road runs around that," said Archer, "the other side." + +"We'll follow the road," said Tom, "but we'll keep in the brook till we +get about a couple of hundred feet from the road. Come on." + +"You heading for Dundgardt?" Archer whispered. + +"Don't talk so loud. Yes--I got to find some people there named +Leture--I can't pronounce it just right. That's nothin' but a tree----" + +"I thought it was a man," said Archer. + +"We ought to be there in an hour," and again Tom felt for his precious +button. "If they'll keep us till to-morrow night we can get a good start +for the Swiss border; I--I got some--some good ideas." + +"For traveling?" + +"Yes--at night. They'll do--anything after I tell 'em about Frenchy. +Quiet. Bend your toes over the pebbles like I do." + + * * * * * + +But did they ever reach Dundgardt--once Leteur? Did they make their way +through fair Alsace, under the shadow of the Blue Alsatian Mountains, to +the Swiss border? Did Tom's "good ideas" pan out? Was the scout of the +Acorn and the Indian head, to triumph still in the solitude of the Black +Forest, even as he had triumphed in the rugged Catskills roundabout his +beloved Temple Camp? + +Was he indeed permitted to carry out his determination to fight for two? + +Ah, that is another story. + +But one little hint may be given now, which perhaps throws some light +upon his future history. Some months after this momentous night Mrs. +Silas Archer, whose husband had a farm with a big apple orchard in the +vicinity of Temple Camp, received a small box containing a little piece +of junk and a letter in a sprawling hand. And this is what the letter +said: + + Dear Old Mudgie: + + "Wish I was home to get in the fall russets. They don't have any + decent apples over here at all. Stand this piece of wire on the + whatnot in the sitting room and show it to the minister when he + comes. It's part of a German barbed wire fence. I kept it for a + souvenir when I escaped from Slops prison. You won't find that name + on the map, but nobody can pronounce the real name. You don't say + it--you have to sneeze it. I had a bully time in the prison camp + and met a feller that used to go to Temple Camp. We escaped + together. + + "Send your letters to the War Department for we're with Pershing's + boys now and they'll be forwarded. Can't tell you much on account + of the censor. But don't worry, I'll be home for next Christmas. + Give my love to dad. And don't use all the sour apples when you're + making cider. + + "Down with the Kaiser! Lots of love. + "ARCHIE." + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +THIS ISN'T ALL! + +Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in +this book? + +Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and +experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? + +On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you +will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same +store where you got this book. + +_Don't throw away the Wrapper_ + +_Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But +in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete +catalog._ + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +THE TOM SLADE BOOKS + +By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH +Author of "Roy Blakeley," "Pee-wee Harris," "Westy Martin," Etc. + +Illustrated. Individual Picture Wrappers in Colors. Every Volume +Complete in Itself. + +"Let your boy grow up with Tom Slade," is a suggestion which thousands +of parents have followed during the past, with the result that the TOM +SLADE BOOKS are the most popular boys' books published today. They take +Tom Slade through a series of typical boy adventures through his +tenderfoot days as a scout, through his gallant days as an American +doughboy in France, back to his old patrol and the old camp ground at +Black Lake, and so on. + +TOM SLADE, BOY SCOUT +TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP +TOM SLADE ON THE RIVER +TOM SLADE WITH THE COLORS +TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT +TOM SLADE WITH THE BOYS OVER THERE +TOM SLADE, MOTORCYCLE DISPATCH BEARER +TOM SLADE WITH THE FLYING CORPS +TOM SLADE AT BLACK LAKE +TOM SLADE ON MYSTERY TRAIL +TOM SLADE'S DOUBLE DARE +TOM SLADE ON OVERLOOK MOUNTAIN +TOM SLADE PICKS A WINNER +TOM SLADE AT BEAR MOUNTAIN + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS + +By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH + +Author of "Tom Slade," "Pee-wee Harris," "Westy Martin," Etc. + +Illustrated. Individual Picture Wrappers in Color. Every Volume Complete +in Itself. + +In the character and adventures of Roy Blakeley are typified the very +essence of Boy life. He is a real boy, as real as Huck Finn and Tom +Sawyer. He is the moving spirit of the troop of Scouts of which he is a +member, and the average boy has to go only a little way in the first +book before Roy is the best friend he ever had, and he is willing to +part with his best treasure to get the next book in the series. + +ROY BLAKELEY +ROY BLAKELEY'S ADVENTURES IN CAMP +ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER +ROY BLAKELEY'S CAMP ON WHEELS +ROY BLAKELEY'S SILVER FOX PATROL +ROY BLAKELEY'S MOTOR CARAVAN +ROY BLAKELEY, LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN +ROY BLAKELEY'S BEE-LINE HIKE +ROY BLAKELEY AT THE HAUNTED CAMP +ROY BLAKELEY'S FUNNY BONE HIKE +ROY BLAKELEY'S TANGLED TRAIL +ROY BLAKELEY ON THE MOHAWK TRAIL + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS + +By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH + +Author of "Tom Slade," "Roy Blakeley," "Westy Martin," Etc. + +Illustrated. Individual Picture Wrappers in Color. Every Volume Complete +in Itself. + +All readers of the Tom Slade and the Roy Blakeley books are acquainted +with Pee-wee Harris. These stories record the true facts concerning his +size (what there is of it) and his heroism (such as it is), his voice, +his clothes, his appetite, his friends, his enemies, his victims. +Together with the thrilling narrative of how he foiled, baffled, +circumvented and triumphed over everything and everybody (except where +he failed) and how even when he failed he succeeded. The whole recorded +in a series of screams and told with neither muffler nor cut-out. + +PEE-WEE HARRIS +PEE-WEE HARRIS ON THE TRAIL +PEE-WEE HARRIS IN CAMP +PEE-WEE HARRIS IN LUCK +PEE-WEE HARRIS ADRIFT +PEE-WEE HARRIS F. O. B. BRIDGEBORO +PEE-WEE HARRIS FIXER +PEE-WEE HARRIS: AS GOOD AS HIS WORD + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Tom Slade on a Transport, by Percy Keese Fitzhugh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SLADE ON A TRANSPORT *** + +***** This file should be named 23663.txt or 23663.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/6/6/23663/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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