Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S.: A Story of the Great War
Page 35
CHAPTER XXXV
ONE CARTRIDGE LEFT
"AN accident," declared Peter confusedly. The appalling event hadcompletely unnerved him. He hardly seemed to realise that his sonhad turned up at a most opportune moment. "An accident. His gunburst, goodness only knows why. By Jove, he'll bleed to death if wedon't look sharp!"
Von Eitelwurmer's injuries were ghastly at first sight. His lefthand and wrist were simply a mass of scorched and lacerated flesh,his right hand was badly cut, while his face, ashy grey with adreadful pallor, was pitted with embers from the smokeless powder.By his side were the remains of his gun, the barrel completelyfractured for a distance of more than six inches.
For a brief space the spy opened his eyes. He saw the two officersin naval uniform.
"_Gott in himmel!_" he gasped, and straightway fainted.
Entwistle glanced knowingly at the two chums and noddedsignificantly. Peter, in his agitation, had not grasped thesignificance of the exclamation uttered in the injured man's nativetongue.
"There's a gate yonder," remarked Entwistle, while he and youngBarcroft were engaged in checking the flow of arterial blood. "Youtwo might fetch it. It will be just the thing to carry him to thevillage."
Pulling himself together Peter hurried towards the gate, followed byKirkwood, but not before the latter had been again warned byEntwistle to keep a discreet silence on the subject of the injuredman's identity.
"We'll take him to his house," declared Entwistle. "I don't thinkthe injuries are dangerous, although they are bad enough. Thecorrect course would be to run him into Barborough and put him inthe infirmary, but I have good reasons for the steps I proposetaking. Excellent, Barcroft," he exclaimed when the gate wasforthcoming. "Now, together, lift."
"What happened, pater?" asked Billy during the journey down thehillside.
"Hanged if I know exactly," replied Barcroft Senior. "I was ahead ofhim when it happened. Heard a fearful bang, turned round and foundNorton on the ground."
"Frozen snow in the barrel, most likely," remarked Entwistle. "I'veknown guns to burst before to-day through that reason."
"He did slip when we crossed the stile," admitted Peter, "and plentyof snow had drifted down there. But that theory won't hold. He firedhis gun after that."
"He may have fallen down again, or unknowingly poked the muzzle intoanother lot of snow," suggested Entwistle. "There was a good depthunder the lee of those bushes, you'll remember, and I noticed by thefootprints that he had walked through the drift."
"It's awfully unfortunate," declared Peter.
"Awfully--for the spy," thought Entwistle, "otherwise you might betaking his place on this improvised stretcher."
The wounded man was taken to The Croft and put to bed. Two doctors,summoned by telephone, were quickly in attendance.
"He'll pull through," was the verdict, "unless complications ensue.Shock to the system is more to be guarded against than the actualinjuries. Some one will have to be constantly with him, particularlyto see that an even temperature of the room is maintained."
"I'll stay," volunteered Entwistle.
"We'll take turns," suggested Peter. "I'll relieve you at twoo'clock. Lunch will be ready for you then. If we cannot get atrained nurse (there is a dearth of them in Barborough, Iunderstand) I'll be with him to-night. Come on, boys; we'll get backto Ladybird Fold."
During the meal Barcroft Senior spoke hardly a word. His appetitewas poor. He was not used to scenes of physical violence. Even theunexpected arrival of Billy and the A.P. did little to help him toregain his normal spirits.
Lunch over, Peter left the two chums to their own devices and wendedhis way to The Croft.
He encountered Entwistle on the landing.
"Well?" he asked.
"He's just recovered consciousness," reported Philip. "A littlelight-headed, perhaps, and temperature up a bit. I'll come again atfour. If you don't mind I'll arrange to stop here to-night."
"You're awfully good," said Peter, who had perhaps unconsciouslytaken upon himself the duties of deputy master of The Croft. "Well,lunch is awaiting you. Make yourself at home at my place. If there'sanything you require don't hesitate to ask for it."
Entwistle had undertaken his self-imposed duties as sick-bedattendant with conscientious zeal; but he had also found time tomake a complete investigation of the spy's papers, securing severalthat promised to become incriminating documents when subjected toprofessional scrutiny. At any rate, if he could be undisturbed heanticipated an interesting afternoon's search.
"I'll tell Barcroft all about it when I have completed the chain ofevidence," he reflected. "He'll have a nasty shock, poor fellow,when he learns that his so-called pal tried to murder him. The wholething's as plain as daylight to me; von Eitelwurmer meant to shoothim in the back, only the bursting of his gun saved Barcroft."
Left in charge of his treacherous friend, Barcroft found the patienthad fallen asleep. Since nothing more was to be done Barcroft Seniortook up a book, at the same time sighing for a pipe, a luxury thatout of praiseworthy consideration for the injured man he hadtemporarily abandoned.
"By Jove!" said Peter to himself about an hour later. "That fire'sgetting low."
As silently as possible he heaped more coal upon the smoulderingembers. Tending fires was not in his line. Often at home he wouldallow the study fire to die out simply through neglect to make useof the poker.
Somewhat anxiously he watched the gradually dimming glow. He washalf-minded to ring for Mrs. Crumpet, until reflecting that thehousekeeper at The Croft was evidently a person who made more noisein proportion to the work done than was desirable in thecircumstances, he decided to tackle the recalcitrant fire himself.
Vainly he looked for a pair of bellows. Foiled in that direction hesuddenly remembered having seen a smouldering fire roused intoactivity by means of a newspaper held over the grate.
"This might do," he soliloquised, picking up a couple of sheets ofprinted paper, since no newspaper could be found. "A catalogue ofsorts: wonder if Norton wants it particularly?"
Slowly, very slowly, the dying fire began to revive, until under theforced draught a respectable flame rewarded Peter's efforts.Patiently holding the printed sheets across the grate until his armached, he whiled away the time by reading the technical descriptionof Someone's patent combined washtub-and-dryer.
Suddenly his interest was aroused.
"Bless my soul!" he ejaculated. "That's funny. It wasn't there halfa minute ago."
Under the heat of the now glowing fire letters hitherto invisibletook semblance upon the warm paper. To his utter surprise the name"Barcroft" appeared in view.
Hardly able to credit his senses Peter read the damning evidence ofthe supposed Andrew Norton's treachery. It was written in German,for, owing to Entwistle having on a previous visit taken possessionof the cypher (a circumstance that had caused the spy hours ofuneasiness until he had been lulled into a sense of false security),he had been obliged to resort to ordinary writing pending thearrival of another code-book.
"Your request for immediate action noted," read Peter. "ExpectBarcroft's removal to-day. Notifying impending accident tosubstantiate claim. Also hope to secure his manuscript to-night.Will destroy it if unable to retain without exciting suspicion."
There were also statistical particulars of the output of one of theBarborough munition factories, including the number of new giganticshells, but Peter had not time to read that far.
A reverberating report filled the room. A bullet, whizzing close tothe head of the startled man, shattered into a thousand pieces amirror on the wall.
The spy, awaking from his sleep, had seen Barcroft poring over hissecret--the same paper that he had been compelled to take hurriedlyto his room that very morning when Peter disturbed him at his work.
Von Eitelwurmer realised that the game was up. Visions of a firingparty in the moat of The Tower gripped his mind. Anything but that:he would make Barcroft pay for his discovery, and afterwards send ashot through his
own head.
Under his pillow the spy habitually kept a Service revolver. This hefumbled for with his partly crippled right hand, and taking aimfired at Peter's head.
In his weak state von Eitelwurmer had not taken into sufficientconsideration the "kick" of the powerful weapon. At the first shotthe revolver jerked itself from his feeble grasp and clattered uponthe floor.
"Thank you," said Peter firmly, as he stooped to pick up the weapon.He was surprised at his own almost unnatural calmness. "Might I askthe reason for this--er--outrage?"
"You have discovered everything," muttered the spy. "That wassufficient reason."
"Accidentally," added Barcroft. "Even then why should you seek mylife and, what is almost as important to me, to destroy mylabour--my writings? Look here, Norton, the position is this. Youare a spy, caught redhanded, and the penalty is, as you know,death."
"And I meant to settle you before that," hissed the recreant.
"But Providence decided otherwise," continued Peter. "I thought youa totally different kind of person. You partook of my hospitality,yet descend to attempted assassination. Yet I do not forget thatyesterday you saved my life. I wonder why? However, we are nowquits, but I feel inclined to do you a favour. In ordinarycircumstances you would be nursed back to health merely for thepurpose of undergoing trial and suffering execution. There is yetanother way."
"How?" asked the spy eagerly.
"By this," answered Peter holding up the revolver. "I will extractall but one cartridge and return you the weapon. If you are stillintent upon my life the instrument is in your hands--only, remember,you cannot fire a second shot. Here you are. I give you five minutesto decide."
Slowly Barcroft crossed the room and descended the stairs. Only thendid his calmness give way--and it required plenty of courage todeliberately turn away from a loaded weapon in the hands of avindictive spy.
Entering the dining-room Peter sank into a chair and rested his headon his hands. Only the loud ticking of the grandfather clockdisturbed the silence until the door was pushed open and PhilipEntwistle entered.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "What's wrong now? Has Norton----?"
"I have made a very remarkable discovery," said Peter. "AndrewNorton is a German spy."
"Indeed?" was Entwistle's rejoinder.
"Accidentally I found some incriminating writing. He saw what I haddone and let rip at me with a revolver. Needless to say he missed."
"That's the third lucky escape you've had from his murderousintentions," remarked Entwistle quietly. "I can tell you now. Hetried either to murder or kidnap you by means of the Zeppelin thatcame to Barborough. That the authorities gathered from one of thecrew when the airship was wrecked in the North Sea a few days agoand the men rescued by a British patrol boat. Secondly, he did hislevel best to shoot you in the back this morning----"
"Is that so?" asked Barcroft. "I can just understand a man doingsuch a thing through violent personal motives, but for a mereinternational reason----"
"My dear fellow, there was the sum of ten thousand marks waiting tobe earned."
"Yes," admitted Peter. "I know that. But only yesterday he fished meout of the Dingle Dell stream when I was almost on the point ofbeing drowned. For why?"
"Ask me another," replied Entwistle. "At any rate, you will havecause to realise the actual existence of the Unseen Hand. But whathappened just now, after he fired and missed?"
Peter Barcroft glanced at the clock. It wanted thirty seconds tocomplete the stipulated five minutes.
"I talked to him pretty straight," he said. "Shamed him a bit, Ithink. Anyway, I took four unused cartridges out of the revolver.Being a six-chambered weapon one cartridge remained."
"Well?"
"I handed the pistol back to him; told him if he were still of thesame mind he had yet another chance to settle with me. He didn't--"
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Entwistle striding towards the stairs. "Youleft him with a loaded revolver?"
Peter laid a detaining hand on the Secret Service man's shoulder.
"I gave him five minutes," he said. "And the time's up."
A pistol shot rang out from the upstairs room.
Siegfried von Eitelwurmer, otherwise Andrew Norton, had paid thepenalty.