The Motor Boys in the Army; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry as Volunteers

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A STAB IN THE BACK

  Jerry Hopkins was of two minds. He knew his orders as sentry requiredhim to challenge any one trying to pass in or out of camp after hourswithout a pass. And it did not seem likely that these persons, whoeverthey were, would act so suspiciously if they had passes. In fact, onecame from the direction of the barracks, and the other from the town,which lay about three miles from camp.

  On the other hand, Jerry knew that often some of the boys stayed intown beyond the legal hour, and tried to run past the guard withoutgetting caught, for in the latter event it meant punishment for beingout after taps.

  The soldier boys were but human, and, naturally, they did not want tosee their fellow soldiers get into trouble. So it was sometimes thecustom not to look too closely when some of the late-stayers tried torun guard.

  “If that’s all it is, I guess I can find something to do at the otherend of my post,” thought Jerry, for he felt that, some day, he mightwant a similar favor.

  But as he was debating with himself he heard Ned approaching, and hewaited.

  “Everything all right?” asked Ned in a low voice.

  “Well, not exactly,” was the answer. “Did you see anything suspicious?”

  “Suspicious? No.”

  “Take a look down in that hollow,” suggested Jerry. As he pointed toindicate the place to Ned, they both saw two figures in a crouchingattitude on the ground. They were two men, one in the unmistakableuniform of a soldier, and the other a civilian. And they appeared to bein close conversation.

  “What’s that?” asked Ned in a low voice.

  “That’s what we’ve got to find out,” returned Jerry. “I was justwondering whether to challenge or not.”

  “Maybe we can find out who they are first,” suggested Ned. “If it’sjust a couple of boys out late.”

  “That’s what I was going to do,” said Jerry.

  “But one seems to be a civilian, and he hasn’t any right around camp atthis hour.”

  “I’m going over and take a look.” Jerry spoke now with decision.

  “I’ll go with you,” offered Ned. “It’s about midway of both our posts.”

  Jerry and Ned wanted to do their duty, as they had been instructed bytheir officers, but, at the same time, if by a little avoidance of astrict rendering of the rules they could help out an indiscreet fellowsoldier, they were tempted to do that. It all depended on what wastaking place over there in the dark hollow.

  Of course there had been talk of enemy spies and of German activities,and a great deal of it had a basis in fact, or easily could have. Andit was true that a German spy could do a great deal of damage aroundCamp Dixton if he tried. There were great store-houses that could beset on fire, there were barracks and stables that could be burned, andmore than one fire that did occur during the early days may be set downas having been the work of an enemy alien. If such were the men meetingat midnight in the hollow, just off the posts of Jerry and Ned, theywanted to know it. Even if one did wear Uncle Sam’s uniform, that wasno reason for believing him true. There are traitors in all walks oflife.

  “What do you make ’em out to be?” asked Ned in a whisper of his tallchum.

  “I’m not sure. One seems to be a soldier, but the other isn’t. And thesoldier, if he is that, came from the direction of our place.”

  “Going to yell for the corporal of the guard?”

  “Not yet a while. Let’s see who they are.”

  The thick grass muffling their footsteps, Ned and Jerry drew near tothe place where they had last seen the figures. They were not in sightnow, being crouched down in the dark shadows. But as the boys paused tolisten, they heard the murmur of voices, and some one said:

  “It’s a little soon to start anything yet. Wait about a week and theplace will be full. Then the damage will be all the greater.”

  “All right; just as you say,” came the response. “Only my friends aregetting impatient to have me do something.”

  “Oh, you’ll do it all right!” said the first speaker. “And now you’dbetter hop along. The sentries may be over this way any minute. I’vegot to sneak back. See you again in the usual way.”

  Then came a silence, and Ned and Jerry looked at one another in thedarkness. They could just make out each other’s outlines.

  “Did you hear that?” whispered Ned.

  “Sure I did. It was----”

  “Pug Kennedy!” filled in Ned.

  “And if the other didn’t speak with a German accent I’ll never drawanother ration.”

  “Just what I think. But what does it mean? Why should Pug Kennedy beout after hours, running the guard and meeting with men who may beenemy aliens?”

  “Can’t answer,” replied Jerry. “But it’s up to us to find out. Butlet’s go easy. We don’t want to make fools of ourselves, and start afalse alarm. Wait until we see what happens.”

  They did not have long to wait. A few seconds later they heard ashuffle in the grass, and a dim figure came toward them. It was that ofa soldier, as Ned and Jerry could see. Of the second person there wasnot a sign. But he might still be in the dark hollow, or he may havecrawled off. At any rate it was Jerry’s duty to challenge, and he didit.

  “Halt!” he cried, bringing his rifle to “port,” as the regulationscalled for. “Who goes there?”

  “Friend,” was the answer, though the tone of the reply was anything butfriendly. “That you, Hopkins?” came the inquiry.

  “Yes. Who are you?” Jerry asked, though he knew full well.

  “I’m Kennedy. I’ve been out on a bit of a lark. Can’t you look theother way a second until I slip past?”

  It was not an unusual request, and it was one that was often compliedwith. Yet Jerry hesitated a moment. Kennedy might be telling the truth,and the midnight meeting might be innocent enough. But it lookedsuspicious. And Jerry had reason to think that the fighter had comefrom the barracks only recently--not that he was just returning to them.

  “Go on. Look the other way and I’ll slip past--that’s a sport!” beggedPug Kennedy, and his voice was more friendly now. “I’ll do as much foryou some day.”

  It was an appeal hard to resist, and Jerry was on the point ofcomplying, while Ned was willing to agree to it, when some one washeard walking along from a point in back of the three young men.

  “It’s the corporal!” hissed Kennedy. “Keep your mouths shut and I’ll dothe rest.”

  He suddenly seemed to melt away in the darkness, but he probablydropped down in the long grass. The approaching footsteps came nearerand a voice called:

  “Hopkins! Slade! Are you there?”

  “Here, sir,” was the answer, and Jerry and Ned saw the corporal of theguard standing near them.

  “Anything the matter?” he asked.

  “Well, I thought I saw some one over here,” answered Jerry, “and I cameto look. But I don’t see anything now.”

  There was a very good reason for this. Jerry had his eyes tightly shut!

  “False alarm, was it?” asked the corporal with a laugh. “Well, thatoften happens. But it’s best to be on the alert. There are some of theboys out, and we want to catch them as examples. If you see anythingmore give a call.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jerry and Ned turned away to go back on post when something happened.It was a yell of pain, and came from a point not far from where thecorporal had been talking to the two sentries.

  “What’s that?” exclaimed Ned.

  “Some one hurt,” answered Jerry. “I wonder----”

  He did not have time to complete his surmise, for the corporal called:

  “Guard! Over this way! I’ve caught him!”

  There was a sound of a struggle, and then a light flashed. Ned andJerry, hurrying over, saw the corporal holding Pug Kennedy, andflashing a pocket electric light into the bully’s face.

  NED AND JERRY, HURRYING OVER SAW THE CORPORAL HOLDINGPUG KENNEDY.]

  “You were right--there w
as some one here,” said the corporal. “Istepped on his hand in the dark and he yelled. Otherwise I might nothave seen him. Sorry, Kennedy, but it’s your own fault,” went on thenon-commissioned officer. “Take him to the guardhouse,” he ordered Nedand Jerry, and there was no choice for them but to obey.

  “I’ll get even with you for this!” growled Pug Kennedy, as he marchedalong. “I’ll fix you!”

  “We didn’t do anything,” said Jerry in a low voice. “We were going tokeep still.”

  “Yes you were! You gave me away--that’s what you did. You called thecorporal and peached on me! I’ll fix you for this!”

  It was useless to protest, and Jerry and Ned did not. Kennedy,muttering and growling, was turned over to the keeper of theguardhouse, and locked up for the rest of the night. He would be givena hearing in the morning.

  “How much shall we tell?” asked Ned of Jerry, when they were relieved,and, with Bob, went to turn in.

  “Better not say anything until we’re asked,” was Jerry’s opinion. “Letthe corporal do the talking. After all he found him, we didn’t.”

  “But about the meeting in the dark, and the talk we heard?”

  “Well, if I was sure what it meant I’d speak of it. But we may only getlaughed at for imagining things if we speak of it. And we haven’t muchto go on. Let the corporal do the talking.”

  This they did, with the result that Pug Kennedy was punished for beingout after taps and trying to run the guard, no very serious offense,but one which carried with it an extra round of police work--cleaningup around camp--and Pug was more or less the laughing butt of hiscomrades.

  “It’s all your fault!” he declared to Ned and Jerry. “You wait! I’llget square with you!”

  But as several days passed, and the “scrapper,” as he was called, madeno effort to carry out his threat, Ned and Jerry rather forgot aboutit. As for the midnight meeting, it seemed to have been nothing morethan an attempt on the part of Pug Kennedy to be friendly with somecivilian he had met in town.

  “Though what they were talking about I can’t guess,” said Jerry.

  “Same here,” agreed Ned.

  The days in camp were spent in drill. It was drill, drill, drill frommorning until night.

  Most of the drills were for the purpose of getting the new soldiers ingood physical shape, fit to stand the hard work that would come later.To the three motor boys it was much the same sort of thing they hadgone through when training for football. There were the preliminarysteps, the slow movements, followed by speeding-up practice and thenhard driving.

  In the course of a few weeks they learned how to march in unison, howto go through certain parts of the rifle drill without making it looktoo ragged, and finally, one day, orders were issued for bayonet drill.

  “This is beginning to look like real war, now,” said Ned in delight, ashe and his chums got their guns and bayonets ready for the work.

  “What is it to be, trench or with the bags?” asked Bob.

  “Bags,” answered Jerry, who had been reading the orders. “The trenchwork comes later.”

  There are several kinds of bayonet drill and exercise, and among themare trench and bag work. In the former, which is only used after theyouths have become somewhat familiar with the weapon, there are twolines of soldiers. One is down in a trench, and they are “attacked”by another line standing above them, the theory being that the partyoutside the trench is the attacking one.

  Bag bayonet work is something on the same scale as tackling thedummy in football practice. On a wooden framework a number of canvasbags, filled with sawdust, shavings, hay or other soft material, aresuspended. On each bag, which swings freely by two ropes, are paintedtwo white dots. These, in a measure, correspond to the scarlet heart onthe buffer of a fencer.

  Standing in a row before the swinging bags, with leveled bayonets, theyoung soldiers endeavor to stab through the object as near the whitespots as possible. This is to train their eyes.

  Ned, Bob, and Jerry, with their comrades, were marched to the practiceground, and then, after some preliminary instruction and illustrativework by men proficient in the drill, the lads were allowed to do itthemselves.

  “It looks easy, but it’s hard,” declared Bob, when he had made severalwild lunges, to the no small danger of the man next him.

  “Take it easy, Chunky,” advised Jerry. “You’ve got more than a week tostay here. Go slow.”

  Pug Kennedy, who was stationed next to Ned, had done better than any ofthe others. Perhaps his proficiency with his fists stood him in goodstead. However that may have been, he won commendation from the officerin charge.

  “Now for a general attack!” came the orders, after a while. “I want tosee how you’d act if you were told to go over the top and smash a crowdof Germans! Lively now!”

  The boys went at it with a will, one or two fairly ripping the bagsfrom their fastenings.

  Suddenly there was a cry of pain, and Jerry saw Ned stagger in theline, and drop his rifle. Then Ned fell, and on the back of his oliveshirt there appeared a crimson stain. Ned had been stabbed by abayonet.