A Lively Bit of the Front: A Tale of the New Zealand Rifles on the Western Front
Page 11
CHAPTER XI
Cornered
"How about that notebook?" enquired Malcolm. The three chums werelounging in camp-chairs on the upper deck after their strenuous butinterrupted "trick below". In consideration for their voluntarylabours all men who had been in the stokehold were excused drillsand parades for the rest of the day.
"Clean forgot all about it," replied Selwyn. "I left it in thepocket of my boiler suit. By this time I guess some other fellow iswearing the overalls. After all, the notebook may find its way tothe rightful owner."
The three sat in silence for some minutes. Fortescue was puffing athis pipe, deep in thought; Selwyn was idly contemplating theunbroken expanse of horizon; while Malcolm devoted his attention tothe examination of half a dozen large blisters on his hands.Already soldiering had hardened his hands considerably, but stoking,he decided, had proved to be far more strenuous than bayonetexercise, if an aching back, stiff muscles, and galls as big ashalf-crowns were any criterion.
Thus engaged, the chums hardly noticed the appearance of acorporal's guard--an N.C.O. and two privates with side-arms.Consequently they were surprised when the Corporal halted his menand asked abruptly:
"Are you Diggers the chaps what were doing stoking just now in No. 2stokehold? You are? Well, you're bloomin' well under arrest."
"Under arrest--what for?" demanded Fortescue. For a moment hesuspected a practical joke, but the fact that the men wore side-armsknocked that idea on the head.
"Dunno," replied the man shortly. "Fall in!"
Along the crowded troop deck the prisoners and their escort madetheir way, their presence occasioning little interest on the part ofthe spectators. Defaulters were common objects amongst the differentColonial troops who comprised the _Pomfret Castle's_ passengers.
Outside the large cabin known as the orderly-room were a dozenAustralians, also under guard. Presently their numbers wereaugmented by five more. Every man of the coaling squad in No. 2stokehold had been arrested.
"What's this rotten farce all about?" demanded Kennedy, appealing tothe New Zealanders.
Malcolm shook his head. His own impression was that it had somethingto do with the discovery of the explosive in the bunker.
"Silence!" ordered a sergeant-major, who was now in charge of thebatch of prisoners.
The door was thrown open, and the Anzacs with their escort pacedinto the orderly-room. At one end was a green-baize-covered table,at which were seated four "Tommy" officers--a major, two captains,and a lieutenant of a British line regiment. In front of them weresheets of foolscap, a book on military law, and a small objectwrapped in brown paper.
"You men," began the Major without any preliminaries, "volunteeredfor work in No. 2 stoke-hold. Twenty all told, I see. Were there anyother men of the party, or do you comprise the whole squad? Verywell, then. Now I mean to find out who is the owner of this article.It was found in one of the boiler suits supplied to the squad; itwas not there when the suits were issued, consequently the articlein question must belong to one of you men. The owner of this willstep forward two paces."
The Major, unwrapping the paper coverings, held up for inspectionthe notebook that Selwyn had picked up in his bunker.
"Is this your property?" demanded the Major as Selwyn steppedforward.
"No, sir."
"Then why the deuce----" exclaimed the officer, raising his voice."Here, remove the other prisoners."
For twenty minutes the ejected men cooled their heels in thealley-way until again summoned to the orderly room.
"You are released from arrest," declared the Major curtly; then, asan afterthought, he added: "It would be advisable that you maintaindiscretion over the matter."
"What happened, old man?" enquired Fortescue, as the three NewZealanders gained a secluded part of the mess deck.
"The pocket-book contained a secret code," explained Selwyn. "It hasbeen partly deciphered, and is proved to be a means of communicationbetween someone on board the ship and the U-boats. I explained how Ifound it, and offered to produce you chaps as witnesses, but theMajor was awfully decent about it. He means to find the owner, andif necessary is going to interrogate every man who went into thatstokehold. Hallo, they've rounded up our immediate predecessorsalready."
As he spoke twenty Afrikanders, headed by the gigantic Jan vanEindhovengen, marched along the mess deck under escort.
"By Golly!" exclaimed Fortescue. "That's the man!"
"Who--the boxer?" enquired Selwyn.
"No, the last but one. Our pal in the Muizenberg train."
"So it is," agreed Malcolm. "Don't let him twig us."
The Diggers waited until the batch of suspects vanished.
"Ought we to report what we know concerning that chap?" askedMalcolm.
"And possibly get choked off if we do," objected Fortescue. "Let'swait and see what happens. If the fellow is bowled out, there's noneed for us to butt in. He'll face a firing-party without ourassistance. Taken for granted that he is a spy, what was his objectin bamboozling us?"
"Give it up," replied Selwyn. "Getting three men to miss theirproper transport wouldn't affect the progress of the warsufficiently to warrant his action."
"We told him a lot--more than we ought to have done," remarkedMalcolm. "Of course we didn't know."
"And then I suppose," added Fortescue, "he thought we might reportthe matter, and so he switched us off on a branch line, so to speak.We'll let it go at that, but it wouldn't be a bad move to waitoutside the orderly-room after those fellows have gone in and playthe eavesdropper. If our Muizenberg pal is marched off under escort,then we needn't trouble further in the matter. If he gets off, thenwe'll tackle him and ask him for an explanation."
Acting upon this suggestion, the three chums made their way alongthe alley-way until they came to the orderly-room door. TheAfrikanders were already within. Outside stood a "Tommy" sergeant aspart of the escort.
"Want to go through the hoop again, you chaps?" enquired the N.C.O.,with a grin.
"Not much--only curious," replied Fortescue, who had met thenon-com. before on several occasions. "We'll _impshie_--hook it, youknow--when they clear the court."
Listening, the three chums could hear the stern tones of the Majorand the bass voice of the interpreter, for several of the SouthAfricans spoke nothing but Taal--a dialect comprised largely ofDutch, with a sprinkling of Zulu and Kaffir words.
"That's our man," whispered Malcolm.
"The blighter's yapping in Dutch," announced Fortescue, "and he canspeak English perfectly. Hallo!"
A torrent of words, plainly indicating indignant denials, waftedthrough the closed door. Several of the Afrikanders were speaking atonce. A revolver-shot rang out, a sharp exclamation of pain, andthen a tremendous scuffling.
"Come on, boys!" ordered the Sergeant, addressing the men of theescort waiting without.
The door was thrown open. The Tommies rushed in, while at theirheels came Fortescue, Selwyn, and Carr. Their resolution to remainpassive and unseen witnesses had vanished into thin air.
Within all was confusion. The Major lay with his head and shouldersresting upon the table. Two of the other officers were endeavouringto stanch the blood that flowed from his forehead. In one corner ofthe room a crowd of Afrikanders swayed in a compact mass, as ifeager to wreak their vengeance on someone, while held like a rat inthe jaws of a terrier was the man from Muizenberg, his captor beingJan van Eindhovengen.
"Give him to us, Jan!" shouted a dozen angry voices. "We know whatto do with the rogue."
With difficulty the furious Afrikanders were calmed. The spy, hisfeatures pale with terror, was removed under a strong guard, whilethe wounded officer was carried to the sick quarters.
It was not until the afternoon that Oom Jan told Fortescue of whathad occurred. Already strange rumours of varying degrees of accuracyhad floated round the ship, but it was unanimously agreed that vanEindhovengen was the hero of the hour.
The spy had contrived to join the draft at Cape Town under
the nameof Pieter Waas. The real Pieter Waas happened to be a stranger tothe rest of the Afrikanders, and, induced to desert by spy, hadconsiderately transferred his name to his doubtful benefactor.
At the court of enquiry the pseudo Waas denied all knowledge of thepocket-book, although van Eindhovengen had seen the man with it inhis possession without knowing its sinister import. It was not untilit was explained to the Afrikanders that the ownerless book was ameans by which they might be sent to the bottom of the sea by ahostile submarine that Oom Jan "rounded" on the spy. At first thefellow strenuously contradicted van Eindhovengen's accusation, butthe big Afrikander would not be gainsaid. Suddenly the suspectwhipped out a small automatic pistol. Whether it was with theintention of taking his own life or that of his accuser he himselfonly knew.
Like a flash van Eindhovengen's hand shot out. His powerful fingersgripped the spy's wrist as in a vice. As the pistol dropped from thefellow's limp hand the weapon went off, a bullet grazing the head ofthe president of the court of enquiry, and rendering him insensible.
"And now," concluded Oom Jan, "the spy is under lock and key. He isa slim _smous_ = rascal (Cape Dutch), but, Allemachte, it is allover with him. Presently, after he has set foot on dry land, a dozenbullets will bid him _Hambla gachle_. It is a too fitting end to aspy."
"But he hasn't been tried and sentenced yet," remarked Fortescue.
The Afrikander's face fell.
"Surely he is guilty," he said. "Why then waste time over him?"
"It is the Englishman's proud boast that every prisoner shall begiven a fair trial," explained Fortescue. "It will be general courtmartial, no doubt. Thank goodness we New Zealanders are not mixed upin the business. By the by, Malcolm, have you any idea when wearrive at Plymouth? It seems to me that we've been dodging acrossthe Atlantic half a dozen times."
"This is the twenty-eighth day of the voyage," observed Malcolm. "Iheard that when the _Pomfret Castle_ was on the ordinary mailservice she did the trip in fourteen as regular as clockwork."
"There's one thing, the boys will be snugly in camp by this time andwaiting for us," added Selwyn. "We've missed the rotten 'shakingdown' process. I wonder what sort of a show Codford is like?"
"You'll find out in due course," replied Fortescue grimly. "I've hadsome; enough of Salisbury Plain for me, thank you."
"We're not there yet," Malcolm reminded him.
Fortescue looked fixedly at the expanse of sea over which thetwilight was spreading. Already the grey outline of the convoyingcruiser was blending into invisibility against the gathering mantleof night.
"'That's so," he agreed solemnly.