The boys began to feel sick and queer and even Tom sobered down at thesesights. They were stopped several times by small skirmishing bands andmade to show their papers, for a few days before German spies had beencaptured in a car flying an American flag. The car sped up a hill andthen started swiftly down on the other side of the acclivity.
At the foot of the hill, a long and steep one, was a wooden bridge. Tomwas driving fast, when suddenly there was a sharp, snapping sound andthe car leaped forward. Tom's foot was on the brake in a jiffy, butthere was no diminution in the speed of the machine. Instead, itappeared to gain momentum every moment.
"Bother it all," muttered Tom; "brakes bust. I can't slow down till weget to the bottom of the hill."
"I hope we don't meet anything," cried Jack.
"If we do grand bust--smash--crash--no chance--wow!" exploded thephotographer.
But there was nothing in sight, and beyond the bridge was another upgrade where Tom hoped to gain control of the runaway machine. But withina few hundred feet of the bridge some soldiers suddenly appeared,running from the bridge as if they were in haste to leave the vicinity.
As the car came in sight they waved it frantically back. One evenleveled a rifle.
"Can't stop," shouted Tom Jukes, "brakes bust."
They flashed by the men who looked mere blurs at the pace the car wasnow going.
Bang! came a shot behind them, but the bullet whistled by, making theminvoluntarily crouch low in the madly racing car. Behind them cameshouts and yells. They could catch something about Germans.
"They think we're German spies," gasped Bill, as the car thunderedacross the bridge.
Hardly had it flashed across than there came a terrific explosion andlooking back they saw the whole bridge blown skyward. Their lives hadbeen saved by a miracle.
"Those soldiers must have mined that bridge and set the fuse just beforewe appeared," declared Jack, looking rather white and dismayed.
"We weren't a second too soon. If we'd been going slower we'd have beenwiped off the map," added Bill soberly.
"I'm going to keep running at this speed till we're out of thisneighborhood," cried Tom Jukes. "It's not healthy."
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE UHLANS!
But clearly fate was against their seeing anything of the battle thatmorning. They were still going fast, traveling through a wooded countrythat alternated with open stretches, where they could catch a glimpse ofthe far-off fight, when there came a sudden ominous sound:
Bang!
"There's a shot," cried Bill, looking round with alarm on his face.
"That was no shot," returned Tom with a rueful grin, "it was one of thetires blowing out."
"Pop--bang--air all out--pump her up--hard work--too bad," explodedPottle.
"Fritz, I'll be jiggered if you don't talk like a tire going on thefritz yourself," laughed Tom, as he succeeded in slowing the car down ona gentle grade by reversing the engine and then stopping at the bottom.
"Fritz--German name--don't use it in Belgium--think you're a spy--thenyou'll be on the fritz," sputtered Pottle.
The car was brought to a standstill opposite a neat white farmhouseapproached by an avenue of slender dark poplars. A big dog bayed as thecar stopped, but there was no other sign of life about the place exceptsome chickens pecking and scratching in the dooryard. In the backgroundwere yellow stacks, for the harvest had just been gathered. It made apretty, contented scene in contrast with the turbulent experiencesthrough which the boys had passed only recently.
But they did not spend much time comparing the rural peace with theunrest of the cities in the war area. There was work for them all to do.First the brake was mended by replacing a broken bolt that had causedthe trouble that almost ended tragically for them. Then came the fittingof a new "shoe" and tube, at which they all helped by turns.
The work took some time, and at its completion they were all dusty, hot,and very thirsty.
"I'd give a lot for a good drink of cold water or milk right now,"puffed Tom, resting from his exertions with the tire pump. "What do yousay if we go up to that farmhouse and see if we can buy something todrink?"
"Oh, for an ice cream soda," sighed Bill.
"You might as well wish for lemonade in the Sahara desert," scoffed Tom."They wouldn't know an ice cream soda here if they met it."
Laughing and chatting, they approached the house, walking up the avenue.But as they neared it, their cheerfulness appeared to receive a check.No indication of life but those mentioned appeared about the place. Itwas silent and shuttered. The stable seemed to be empty. No farm wagonsstood about.
Repeated knockings at the door failed to produce anyone.
"There's a well yonder," said Tom Jukes. "What do you say if we helpourselves?"
"We'll have to, I guess," agreed Jack. "Everyone about the place musthave been scared away by the battle."
"Or more probably the men were called to arms and the women have gone tosome place of safety," was Bill's opinion.
A great earthenware vessel stood by the well brink and they refreshedthemselves from this with long draughts of cold, clear water.
"That's better," declared Tom, as he set down the pitcher after a secondapplication from it. "Now let's be getting on, for we've got to findanother road back."
"Wait a minute--great chance--deserted farm--men at war--women flee inhaste leaving faithful dog!" exclaimed Pottle, unslinging his camera.
"Well, hurry up and get through with your old picture box," concededTom, "and, by the way, you might let that dog loose. Poor creature,he'll surely starve to death tied up like that."
Although the dog was a ferocious-looking animal, he seemed to know thatthe boys meant to give him his liberty, for he allowed them to take offhis chain without any opposition and went to a small stream that flowedbehind the house to slake his thirst.
This had hardly been done, and Pottle had taken a few snaps, when downthe road came a furious galloping and a squadron of Belgian cavalryappeared, spurring for their lives, while behind came hoarse shouts andshots.
"Great Scott! We're in for it now!" exclaimed Tom in a dismayed voice;"a flanking party must have attacked those fellows and driven themback."
The squadron, a small one, and probably a scouting party, galloped pastthe house without even noticing the boys and the auto standing in theroad. It was plain they were hard pressed. They had hardly gone whenanother body of horsemen appeared. They wore gray uniforms. Their metalhelmets were covered with canvas with the number of their troopstencilled on it in large figures. Each man carried a lance with agleaming point. Like those they pursued they swept by without payingattention to anything but the pursuit.
"Uhlans!" exclaimed Tom. "I hope we haven't blundered into the thick ofthis thing."
They all stopped to listen. The noise of the pursuit had died out, butnow more hoof beats could be heard approaching rapidly.
CHAPTER XXX.
"YOU ARE A SPY!"
In another moment a smaller body of men swept up to the farmhouse,drawing rein at the sight of the stalled car. By their uniforms and thefluttering ensign held up by a big trooper, the boys guessed them to beofficers. They paused for a moment and then, after a few words, turnedand came galloping up the poplar-lined approach.
The boys exchanged blank looks.
"Keep cool," urged Tom, "there isn't anything they can do to hurt us."
"I don't know, I've heard some queer tales of the Germans," declaredJack, rather apprehensively, "for one thing they've no great love forAmericans."
"But they wouldn't dare to injure us," declared Bill.
The horsemen, of whom there were six, and they saw that two wereslightly wounded, came galloping up and drew rein. The leader of theparty was a fierce, hawk-nosed old man with an immense droopingmustache. The others were young officers, rather foppish-looking. Two ofthem wore monocles.
But it was the figure of the man who brought up the rear of the partythat excited Jack's attention to the exclusion of the others.
"Radwig!" he gasped to Bill as he recognized the figure of the formerHerr Professor of the German War college, in spite of his wearing auniform.
"Wow! There'll be trouble sure now," muttered Bill. "See, he's lookingat us."
"Yes, he recognizes us and he doesn't look over amiable."
Radwig spurred his horse to the side of the hawk-nosed old colonel andspoke rapidly. The old man bent keen eyes on the party of boys.
"Herr Radwig informs me that two of your party are spies," he said in achilling voice; "is that the truth?"
"Of course not," declared Jack, paling a trifle. "We are all Americans."
"Unfortunately, a great many persons, including English spies, areprotecting themselves under that banner nowadays," was the rejoinder."I'll trouble you to show your papers."
"Why, Mr. Radwig knows me and my friend here," burst out Jack.
"I know nothing but what I suspect," snarled Radwig, his eyes gleamingviciously. "Colonel, will you allow me to search these boys?"
The other nodded assent.
"I would rather be searched by somebody else," protested Jack, guessingwhat sort of treatment they would get from the man who hated him.
"Herr Radwig will search you," was the rejoinder, and then, in German,he gave orders to a non-commissioned officer,--a sergeant,--to get ameal ready within the house. Radwig compelled the indignant boys to turnout everything in their pockets and Pottle's camera was ordereddestroyed forthwith.
Radwig's search was rapid and thorough. When it was concluded, he turnedto the colonel.
"There is nothing incriminating on any of them, but on this one here,"he declared.
He pointed at Jack as he spoke.
"And he----?"
"Has two passes on the Belgian railroads in his pocket."
This was true, for Jack had not given up both passes the last time theyhad to show them.
"That seems to prove that he has some position of trust with the Belgiangovernment," declared Radwig, "and as such is properly a prisoner ofwar."
Jack looked his dismay; but the colonel gave a sharp order. Two soldierslaid hold of the boy. He started to shake them off indignantly while hisfriends looked on aghast.
"I can explain all this," he cried; "this man Radwig had trouble withme. He's trying to get even. He----"
"Take him away," came the cold order in unmoved tones. "You areresponsible for him," added the colonel to Jack's two captors. "See thathe is carefully guarded till the court martial."
"The court martial!" cried Jack. "Why, I--I'm an American citizenand----"
"There is no more to be said," and Jack, with an armed guard pressing arevolver to either side, was marched off without a chance to say more.As he went on, he could hear his friends protesting indignantly andthen, they too, were taken in charge by the soldiers and escorted to theautomobile. Then came a sharp order to them to drive back to Louvain onpain of death. There was nothing for them to do but to obey. The irondiscipline of the German officers allowed no argument. And so, leavingJack to his fate, they were compelled to drive off with heavy hearts.
"Don't worry, we'll get the American consul and get him out all right,"said Tom, as cheerfully as he could.
But Bill, with the thought of a court martial in his mind, sat in amiserable state all the way back to the town which they reached onlyafter making a long detour, necessitated by the blown-up bridge.
His chum in the hands of the Germans, and subject to court martial, Billhad good cause to feel worried and oppressed as to the outcome when herealized the influence that Radwig, Jack's enemy, appeared to possess.To what terrible lengths might not his desire for vengeance lead him?
CHAPTER XXXI.
COURT-MARTIALED.
Poor Jack, with feelings that may be imagined, was roughly thrust into asmoke house and the door slammed. Outside the sentries paced up and downceaselessly, showing him that to think of escaping would be useless.There he must stay at the mercy of Radwig till his fate was decided.
No wonder, as he sank on a rough stool, he felt for a moment sick andapprehensive. The glitter in Radwig's eyes when he saw who it was he hadmade prisoner had warned Jack to expect severe treatment. The hoursdragged by and no one came near him. It was pitch dark in the smokehouse, which, of course, had no openings and hardly any ventilation.
The clank of the sentries' sabres, and their steady, monotonous tread,were the only sounds that disturbed the stillness except for anoccasional, far-off rumble of cannonading. Evidently the main tide ofthe battle had rolled back from the scene of the morning's engagement.If it had not been for the presence of the sentries, which showed thathe was not forgotten, Jack would have been inclined to think that hiscaptors had ridden on and left him.
But the steady tramp-tramp outside precluded all possibility of this. Atlast the door was flung open, and the two men guarding him entered thedark smoke house. Jack saw then that it was late twilight, but a cloudysunset, threatening a coming storm, made it appear later.
"Come," ordered one of the impassive, gray-uniformed Germans, whoseemingly possessed a knowledge of a little English.
There was no resource but to obey. Jack, with a beating heart, fell inbetween his two guardians.
"You have heard yourself accused of being a spy," beganthe Colonel harshly.--Page 229]
"I've got to be cool and keep my head," he told himself as he wasmarched toward the house. "Any false step now might be fatal."
Within the farmhouse, kitchen lights had been kindled. Two yellowflaring lamps showed the group of officers about the table with theirswords laid among the remains of a meal. Wine spilled on the cloth andempty glasses showed that the farmhouse cellar had been raided for theirentertainment.
At the head of the table sat the hawk-nosed colonel. Next him wasRadwig. One of the officers, a major, was tilted back in his chairsnoring noisily. Jack's heart sank. He saw no signs of a fair trial.
"You have heard yourself accused of being a spy," began the colonelharshly. "What have you to say to the charge?"
"Simply that it's ridiculous. If you will give me time my friends willbe back here with ample proof that I am an American citizen, a wirelessoperator and----"
"Ah, ha!" exclaimed the colonel, placing one finger to the side of hishawk-like beak and looking cunning. "So that is it. A wireless operatorwith Belgian passes in his possession. It looks bad."
Radwig bent over and whispered something in the colonel's ear.
"Herr Radwig tells me that you are a hater of Germans. That you had himplaced in custody in England and that he only escaped to join our armyafter surmounting great difficulties. What have you to say to that?"
"As to being a hater of Germans, no American is that," said Jack. "Weare all neutral in this struggle. So far as Herr Radwig being imprisonedin England, he was already in irons on the ship before she docked."
"Is that true?" demanded the colonel of Radwig, who smiled and waved hishand with a gesture that signified "absurd."
"You see Herr Radwig denies that you tell the truth," remarked thecolonel.
"Surely my word is as good as his," protested Jack, trying to keep cool,although he saw that things looked black indeed for him before such aprejudiced tribunal.
"Herr Radwig is a German we all know and honor," retorted the colonel."Who you are we do not know. Therefore, between you, we must believehim."
"You don't mean that you believe I am a spy?" blurted out Jack.
"The evidence shows it," rejoined the colonel coldly. "You are aware ofthe rules of war?"
The whole room suddenly swam before Jack's eyes. A deadly chill passedthrough him. For an instant he could not assure himself that it was nota hideous dream from which he must soon awaken. But the next instant,the reality, the horrible fact that he was about to be sentenced todeath as a spy, rush
ed back upon him. He tried to speak but his dry lipsrefused to deliver a word.
The colonel and Radwig whispered, and then the former announced in hisharsh grating voice:
"It will be at reveille to-morrow. Remove the prisoner."
"But you don't understand," he choked out, "surely you don't mean toexecute me, an American citizen, without a chance to explain. I----"
"I will assume full responsibility," was the cold reply.
Jack struggled with his captors, but a cruel blow in the small of theback with the butt of a rifle so dizzied him, that by the time herecovered his senses, he was back in the dark, foul-smelling smoke houseonce more.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE LONG NIGHT.
Then followed the blackest hours of Jack's life. Outside the sentrieskept up their eternal pacing. In the distance a dog barked, and therewas still scattered firing. For a long time the unfortunate youngwireless man sat huddled on the floor of his prison in a sort of torpor.
All at once he recollected that one of his guards spoke English. Perhapshe could get the loan of pen or pencil and paper to write some lastwords. But when hammering at the door for some moments brought aresponse, his request was gruffly refused. The sentry resumed hismeasured pacing.
One--two! One--two! Hour after hour the sound beat into Jack's braintill he thought his head would burst.
Then came another sound.
The Ocean Wireless Boys on War Swept Seas Page 11
