The Mad King

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  VII

  BARNEY TO THE RESCUE

  As Barney Custer raced along the Austrian highroad toward thefrontier and Lutha, his spirits rose to a pitch of buoyancy to whichthey had been strangers for the past several days. For the firsttime in many hours it seemed possible to Barney to entertainreasonable hopes of escape from the extremely dangerous predicamentinto which he had gotten himself.

  He was even humming a gay little tune as he drove into a tiny hamletthrough which the road wound. No sign of military appeared to fillhim with apprehension. He was very hungry and the odor of cookingfell gratefully upon his nostrils. He drew up before the single inn,and presently, washed and brushed, was sitting before the first mealhe had seen for two days. In the enjoyment of the food he almostforgot the dangers he had passed through, or that other dangersmight be lying in wait for him at his elbow.

  From the landlord he learned that the frontier lay but three milesto the south of the hamlet. Three miles! Three miles to Lutha! Whatif there was a price upon his head in that kingdom? It was HER home.It had been his mother's birthplace. He loved it.

  Further, he must enter there and reach the ear of old Prince von derTann. Once more he must save the king who had shown such scantgratitude upon another occasion.

  For Leopold, Barney Custer did not give the snap of his fingers; butwhat Leopold, the king, stood for in the lives and sentiments of theLuthanians--of the Von der Tanns--was very dear to the Americanbecause it was dear to a trim, young girl and to a rugged, leonine,old man, of both of whom Barney was inordinately fond. And possibly,too, it was dear to him because of the royal blood his mother hadbequeathed him.

  His meal disposed of to the last morsel, and paid for, Barneyentered the stolen car and resumed his journey toward Lutha. That hecould remain there he knew to be impossible, but in delivering hisnews to Prince Ludwig he might have an opportunity to see thePrincess Emma once again--it would be worth risking his life for, ofthat he was perfectly satisfied. And then he could go across intoSerbia with the new credentials that he had no doubt Prince von derTann would furnish him for the asking to replace those the Austrianshad confiscated.

  At the frontier Barney was halted by an Austrian customs officer;but when the latter recognized the military car and the Austrianuniform of the driver he waved him through without comment. Upon theother side the American expected possible difficulty with theLuthanian customs officer, but to his surprise he found the littlebuilding deserted, and none to bar his way. At last he was inLutha--by noon on the following day he should be at Tann.

  To reach the Old Forest by the best roads it was necessary to bear alittle to the southeast, passing through Tafelberg and striking thenorth and south highway between that point and Lustadt, to which hecould hold until reaching the east and west road that runs throughboth Tann and Blentz on its way across the kingdom.

  The temptation to stop for a few minutes in Tafelberg for a visitwith his old friend Herr Kramer was strong, but fear that he mightbe recognized by others, who would not guard his secret so well asthe shopkeeper of Tafelberg would, decided him to keep on his way.So he flew through the familiar main street of the quaint oldvillage at a speed that was little, if any less, than fifty miles anhour.

  On he raced toward the south, his speed often necessarily diminishedupon the winding mountain roads, but for the most part clinging to areckless mileage that caused the few natives he encountered to fleeto the safety of the bordering fields, there to stand inopen-mouthed awe.

  Halfway between Tafelberg and the crossroad into which he purposedturning to the west toward Tann there is an S-curve where the basesof two small hills meet. The road here is narrow andtreacherous--fifteen miles an hour is almost a reckless speed atwhich to travel around the curves of the S. Beyond are open fieldsupon either side of the road.

  Barney took the turns carefully and had just emerged into the lastleg of the S when he saw, to his consternation, a half-dozenAustrian infantrymen lolling beside the road. An officer stood nearthem talking with a sergeant. To turn back in that narrow road wasimpossible. He could only go ahead and trust to his uniform and themilitary car to carry him safely through. Before he reached thegroup of soldiers the fields upon either hand came into view. Theywere dotted with tents, wagons, motor-vans and artillery. What didit mean? What was this Austrian army doing in Lutha?

  Already the officer had seen him. This was doubtless an outpost,however clumsily placed it might be for strategic purposes. To passit was Barney's only hope. He had passed through one Austrianarmy--why not another? He approached the outpost at a moderate rateof speed--to tear toward it at the rate his heart desired would beto awaken not suspicion only but positive conviction that hispurposes and motives were ulterior.

  The officer stepped toward the road as though to halt him. Barneypretended to be fussing with some refractory piece of controllingmechanism beneath the cowl--apparently he did not see the officer.He was just opposite him when the latter shouted to him. Barneystraightened up quickly and saluted, but did not stop.

  "Halt!" cried the officer.

  Barney pointed down the road in the direction in which he washeaded.

  "Halt!" repeated the officer, running to the car.

  Barney glanced ahead. Two hundred yards farther on was anotherpost--beyond that he saw no soldiers. He turned and shouted a volleyof intentionally unintelligible jargon at the officer, continuing topoint ahead of him.

  He hoped to confuse the man for the few seconds necessary for him toreach the last post. If the soldiers there saw that he had beenpermitted to pass through the first they doubtless would not hinderhis further passage. That they were watching him Barney could see.

  He had passed the officer now. There was no necessity fordalliance. He pressed the accelerator down a trifle. The car movedforward at increased speed. A final angry shout broke from theofficer behind him, followed by a quick command. Barney did not haveto wait long to learn the tenor of the order, for almost immediatelya shot sounded from behind and a bullet whirred above his head.Another shot and another followed.

  Barney was pressing the accelerator downward to the limit. The carresponded nobly--there was no sputtering, no choking. Just a rapidrush of increasing momentum as the machine gained headway by leapsand bounds.

  The bullets were ripping the air all about him. Just ahead thesecond outpost stood directly in the center of the road. There werethree soldiers and they were taking deliberate aim, as carefully asthough upon the rifle range. It seemed to Barney that they couldn'tmiss him. He swerved the car suddenly from one side of the road tothe other. At the rate that it was going the move was fraught withbut little less danger than the supine facing of the leveled gunsahead.

  The three rifles spoke almost simultaneously. The glass of thewindshield shattered in Barney's face. There was a hole in theleft-hand front fender that had not been there before.

  "Rotten shooting," commented Barney Custer, of Beatrice.

  The soldiers still stood in the center of the road firing at theswaying car as, lurching from side to side, it bore down upon them.Barney sounded the raucous military horn; but the soldiers seemedunconscious of their danger--they still stood there pumping leadtoward the onrushing Juggernaut. At the last instant they attemptedto rush from its path; but they were too late.

  At over sixty miles an hour the huge, gray monster bore down uponthem. One of them fell beneath the wheels--the two others werethrown high in air as the bumper struck them. The body of the manwho had fallen beneath the wheels threw the car half way across theroad--only iron nerve and strong arms held it from the ditch uponthe opposite side.

  Barney Custer had never been nearer death than at that moment--noteven when he faced the firing squad before the factory wall inBurgova. He had done that without a tremor--he had heard the bulletsof the outpost whistling about his head a moment before, with asmile upon his lips--he had faced the leveled rifles of the three hehad ridden down and he had not quailed. But now, his machine in thecenter of the road a
gain, he shook like a leaf, still in the grip ofthe sickening nausea of that awful moment when the mighty, insensatemonster beneath him had reeled drunkenly in its mad flight, swervingtoward the ditch and destruction.

  For a few minutes he held to his rapid pace before he looked around,and then it was to see two cars climbing into the road from theencampment in the field and heading toward him in pursuit. Barneygrinned. Once more he was master of his nerves. They'd have a merrychase, he thought, and again he accelerated the speed of the car.Once before he had had it up to seventy-five miles, and for amoment, when he had had no opportunity to even glance at thespeedometer, much higher. Now he was to find the maximum limit ofthe possibilities of the brave car he had come to look upon withreal affection.

  The road ahead was comparatively straight and level. Behind himcame the enemy. Barney watched the road rushing rapidly out of sightbeneath the gray fenders. He glanced occasionally at thespeedometer. Seventy-five miles an hour. Seventy-seven! "Goingsome," murmured Barney as he saw the needle vibrate up to eighty.Gradually he nursed her up and up to greater speed.

  Eighty-five! The trees were racing by him in an indistinct blur ofgreen. The fences were thin, wavering lines--the road a white-grayribbon, ironed by the terrific speed to smooth unwrinkledness. Hecould not take his eyes from the business of steering to glancebehind; but presently there broke faintly through the whir of thewind beating against his ears the faint report of a gun. He wasbeing fired upon again. He pressed down still further upon theaccelerator. The car answered to the pressure. The needle rosesteadily until it reached ninety miles an hour--and topped it.

  Then from somewhere in the radiator hose a hissing and a spurt ofsteam. Barney was dumbfounded. He had filled the cooling system atthe inn where he had eaten. It had been working perfectly before andsince. What could have happened? There could be but a singleexplanation. A bullet from the gun of one of the three men who hadattempted to stop him at the second outpost had penetrated theradiator, and had slowly drained it.

  Barney knew that the end was near, since the usefulness of the carin furthering his escape was over. At the speed he was going itwould be but a short time before the superheated pistons expandingin their cylinders would tear the motor to pieces. Barney felt thathe would be lucky if he himself were not killed when it happened.

  He reduced his speed and glanced behind. His pursuers had notgained upon him, but they still were coming. A bend in the road shutthem from his view. A little way ahead the road crossed over a riverupon a wooden bridge. On the opposite side and to the right of theroad was a wood. It seemed to offer the most likely possibilities ofconcealment in the vicinity. If he could but throw his pursuers offthe trail for a while he might succeed in escaping through the wood,eventually reaching Tann on foot. He had a rather hazy idea of theexact direction of the town and castle, but that he could find themeventually he was sure.

  The sight of the river and the bridge he was nearing suggested aplan, and the ominous grating of the overheated motor warned himthat whatever he was to do he must do at once. As he neared thebridge he reduced the speed of the car to fifteen miles an hour, andset the hand throttle to hold it there. Still gripping the steeringwheel with one hand, he climbed over the left-hand door to therunning board. As the front wheels of the car ran up onto the bridgeBarney gave the steering wheel a sudden turn to the right, andjumped.

  The car veered toward the wooden handrail, there was a splinteringof stanchions, as, with a crash, the big machine plunged throughthem headforemost into the river. Without waiting to give even aglance at his handiwork Barney Custer ran across the bridge, leapedthe fence upon the right-hand side and plunged into the shelter ofthe wood.

  Then he turned to look back up the road in the direction from whichhis pursuers were coming. They were not in sight--they had not seenhis ruse. The water in the river was of sufficient depth tocompletely cover the car--no sign of it appeared above the surface.

  Barney turned into the wood smiling. His scheme had worked well.The occupants of the two cars following him might not note thebroken handrail, or, if they did, might not connect it with Barneyin any way. In this event they would continue in the direction ofLustadt, wondering what in the world had become of their quarry. Or,if they guessed that his car had gone over into the river, theywould doubtless believe that its driver had gone with it. In eitherevent Barney would be given ample time to find his way to Tann.

  He wished that he might find other clothes, since if he were dressedotherwise there would be no reason to imagine that his pursuerswould recognize him should they come upon him. None of them couldpossibly have gained a sufficiently good look at his features torecognize them again.

  The Austrian uniform, however, would convict him, or at least layhim under suspicion, and in Barney's present case, suspicion was asgood as conviction were he to fall into the hands of the Austrians.The garb had served its purpose well in aiding in his escape fromAustria, but now it was more of a menace than an asset.

  For a week Barney Custer wandered through the woods and mountains ofLutha. He did not dare approach or question any human being. Severaltimes he had seen Austrian cavalry that seemed to be scouring thecountry for some purpose that the American could easily believe wasclosely connected with himself. At least he did not feel disposed tostop them, as they cantered past his hiding place, to inquire thenature of their business.

  Such farmhouses as he came upon he gave a wide berth except atnight, and then he only approached them stealthily for suchprovender as he might filch. Before the week was up he had become anexpert chicken thief, being able to rob a roost as quietly as themost finished carpetbagger on the sunny side of Mason and Dixon'sline.

  A careless housewife, leaving her lord and master's rough shirt andtrousers hanging upon the line overnight, had made possible forBarney the coveted change in raiment. Now he was barged as aLuthanian peasant. He was hatless, since the lady had failed to hangout her mate's woolen cap, and Barney had not dared retain a singlevestige of the damning Austrian uniform.

  What the peasant woman thought when she discovered the empty linethe following morning Barney could only guess, but he was morallycertain that her grief was more than tempered by the gold piece hehad wrapped in a bit of cloth torn from the soldier's coat he hadworn, which he pinned on the line where the shirt and pants hadbeen.

  It was somewhere near noon upon the seventh day that Barney skirtinga little stream, followed through the concealing shade of a foresttoward the west. In his peasant dress he now felt safer to approacha farmhouse and inquire his way to Tann, for he had come asufficient distance from the spot where he had stolen his newclothes to hope that they would not be recognized or that the newsof their theft had not preceded him.

  As he walked he heard the sound of the feet of a horse gallopingover a dry field--muffled, rapid thud approaching closer upon hisright hand. Barney remained motionless. He was sure that the riderwould not enter the wood which, with its low-hanging boughs andthick underbrush, was ill adapted to equestrianism.

  Closer and closer came the sound until it ceased suddenly scarce ahundred yards from where the American hid. He waited in silence todiscover what would happen next. Would the rider enter the wood onfoot? What was his purpose? Was it another Austrian who had by somemiracle discovered the whereabouts of the fugitive? Barney couldscarce believe it possible.

  Presently he heard another horse approaching at the same mad gallop.He heard the sound of rapid, almost frantic efforts of some naturewhere the first horse had come to a stop. He heard a voice urgingthe animal forward--pleading, threatening. A woman's voice. Barney'sexcitement became intense in sympathy with the subdued excitement ofthe woman whom he could not as yet see.

  A moment later the second rider came to a stop at the same point atwhich the first had reined in. A man's voice rose roughly. "Halt!"it cried. "In the name of the king, halt!" The American could nolonger resist the temptation to see what was going on so close tohim "in the name of the king."

 
He advanced from behind his tree until he saw the two figures--aman's and a woman's. Some bushes intervened--he could not get aclear view of them, yet there was something about the figure of thewoman, whose back was toward him as she struggled to mount herfrightened horse, that caused him to leap rapidly toward her. Herounded a tree a few paces from her just as the man--a trooper inthe uniform of the house of Blentz--caught her arm and dragged herfrom the saddle. At the same instant Barney recognized the girl--itwas Princess Emma.

  Before either the trooper or the princess were aware of his presencehe had leaped to the man's side and dealt him a blow that stretchedhim at full length upon the ground--stunned.