A TIGHT PLACE
Major Jones was paying his compliments in a very brusque, business-like,
but kindly way. Before him, standing at attention, Lieutenant Mackinson
and Corporals Joe Harned, Jerry Macklin and Slim Goodwin were awaiting
important orders.
"The manner in which all of you have performed your duties in the past
has won you the esteem and confidence of your commanding officers,"
Major Jones said.
"Your striking services not only have led to promotion, but to another
important trust, upon which much may depend. Through the mountains to
the east of us a company of engineers is cutting a rough road. They work
under great handicaps and frequently are harassed by enemy detachments.
But they are making progress.
"This road is being cut for the purpose of permitting the passage of a
wireless tractor, of which you men are to be in charge. Through a part
of that section an old telegraph line still remains, but it does not
connect in a direction to meet our requirements.
"Reports received this morning indicate that by night the engineers will
have put the road through to a selected point where you will have the
least difficulty in concealing your tractor and its aerials. From your
position there you will keep constant vigil, for you will be able to
inform us long in advance of any effort of the Boches to come through
that way.
"The road winds about the mountain side, and in some places is quite
steep. But the ground is now hard and the motor will make the pull.
Good-by, and good luck to you."
An hour later, with Frank Hoskins, who was an experienced driver, at the
wheel, they started for their destination in one of the big,
high-powered trucks which not only carry a complete wireless equipment
but also provide enough space for sleeping quarters for half a dozen
men.
As a matter of fact, these trucks are so designed that, if it is
necessary, they can carry a crew of ten men, while by means of a special
clutch and gear the engine is made to drive an alternator for generating
the necessary electrical energy which, under the most adverse
atmospheric conditions, will give a sending and receiving range of at
least one hundred miles. In ideal weather the radius increases to as
much as two hundred and fifty miles.
A powerful mechanism which in its operation resembles the opening of a
giant pair of shears, raises the mast and umbrella-shaped antenna, and
the average time in getting the apparatus ready for service is only
about eight minutes.
The entire tractor, including crew, weighs close to five tons, and it
can be easily imagined that its operation on a steep and treacherous
mountain road was far from easy and anything but entirely safe.
With them the lads carried sufficient rations to last them five days, it
being understood that their larder would be replenished at the necessary
intervals.
They also took with them a radio pack-set, which is another wireless
apparatus that can be carried about with little difficulty. This they
had in the event of any unexpected emergency. The entire pack-set could
be carried about in a suitcase, and after it was set up its current was
generated by turning a crank by hand. Its range, under ordinary
atmospheric conditions, was about twenty-five miles.
The first few miles of their journey were accomplished with little
difficulty, but as they struck the uneven, newly-made road, their
troubles began to increase. At times the jolts were so severe that it
seemed they would shake the electrical apparatus loose from the tractor,
while some of the inclines were so steep that, after attempting and
failing to make them once, they had to go backward and then try again,
with increased speed.
It was bitterly cold, and while Frank and whoever at the time sat beside
him on the front seat kept reasonably warm, being directly behind the
hard-working motor, the others frequently got out, to run along for a
quarter or half a mile to limber up their stiffened joints and get their
blood in circulation again.
One of their greatest difficulties came when, more than three-fourths
the distance to their destination, and at one of the narrowest points
along the road, they met the large truck bearing back toward camp the
company of engineers.
The wireless tractor was chugging along under a heavy strain, but the
other truck was coming down the steep grade under the compression of its
engine, to accelerate the use of the brakes. And with the little warning
they had, the two drivers brought their big machines to a stop less than
ten feet apart.
It was impossible for the truck containing the engineers to back up. And
the first widening in the road over which the wireless men had come was
fully a quarter of a mile behind. There was no other course than for
Frank to reverse, and, with a man on either side of the tractor in the
rear, directing every slight turn of the wheel, to go back to that
point.
Once the engine stalled, making the stability of the whole weight of the
heavy tractor depend upon the brakes. Frank grabbed the emergency, and
jammed it on with all his strength, but not before the machine had
gained a momentum which made it a question for a few thrilling seconds
whether or not the brakes would grip and hold it.
As they finally rounded the turn which gave them the brief space of
wider road, and the engineers' truck passed by, the men waving each
other a cheery farewell, the boys from Brighton gave a sigh of relief.
When they reached what they decided should be their destination, almost
at the end of the road and in a dense bit of wooded section which would
obscure them from enemy observers, they brought their tractor to a stop.
With pick and shovel they began building an earthen oven, in which they
might cook their food, and from which they might keep reasonably
comfortable, without being seen.
A light snow began to fall, and, mess over, the lads decided to retire
for the night. Before doing so, however, they set up the mast and
aerials and made the connection to the storage battery. It was agreed
that they should sit up in two-hour shifts, to be ready to receive any
message that possibly might come, but it was arranged that the other
four should divide this duty, allowing Frank, who had driven the truck
over the entire trip, a full night's sleep.
So the night passed, with the lads taking turns at the lonely vigil. The
snow continued, the wind increased almost to a gale, and the temperature
dropped still lower.
Fully eight inches of snow lay upon the ground when gray daylight came
and Slim, the last man on watch, awakened the others. The storm was
diminishing, but still they could see only a few yards distant from the
tractor.
"Guess I'll warm up chopping some wood," said Joe, as he took an axe and
left the others still dressing.
In half an hour he had brought in enough to cook the breakfast and last
half the day, and while Slim acted as cook, Jerry started out to fell
more saplings.
Before noon the clouds broke, the sun came out, and its reflection from
the pure white glistening snow was almost blinding.
"A snowball fight," suggested Jerry, and the others took up the idea as
a boon to dispel the monotony of their isolation.
With the lieutenant "umpiring" from the little wireless room of the
tractor, Joe and Frank "stood" Jerry and Slim, and from a distance of a
hundred feet apart the battle began.
One of Frank's well-aimed missiles caught Slim squarely in the mouth,
just as he was calling out some challenging remark, and from the window
of his post Lieutenant Mackinson laughingly shouted: "Strike one!"
Slim, spitting and blowing out the icy pastry, gathered all his
strength to hurl a ball back at Frank. But he "wound up," as baseball
pitchers call that curving swinging of the arm just before the ball is
thrown, with such vigor that he lost his balance. His feet went up into
the air and he came down ker-plunk! but the snowball left his hand with
what proved to be unerring aim.
Joe, letting out a howl of laughter at Slim's accident, caught the
tightly packed wad of snow right in the ear. He turned his back to the
"enemy," and, leaning forward, began pounding the other side of his head
to dislodge the snow.
Of a sudden he straightened up, uttering an exclamation of surprise.
"Lieutenant!" he shouted. "Look here!"
The lieutenant jumped out of the tractor, and the others followed him on
the run to where Joe and Frank were gazing off down into the opposite
valley.
Two, perhaps three, miles away, a winding, twisting line of black
against the snow was pushing its way laboriously around the mountain
base.
"Germans!" exclaimed Lieutenant Mackinson. "Wait until I get my field
glasses, but do not stand where they might see you with theirs."
From positions within the clump of trees the lads watched the line
spread out and slowly but surely forge its way ahead. The lieutenant
returned with his glasses.
"At least ten thousand of them," he announced at last, after gazing down
at them for fully a minute. "And nobody knows how many more behind. We
must notify the camp at once."
He ran back to the tractor, followed by all but Jerry, who remained to
observe the enemy's further movements.
In two or three minutes the wireless operator at headquarters signaled
back for them to go on with the message.
"About ten thousand enemy troops proceeding through eight inches snow,
bound northwest around eastern base of mountain," Lieutenant Mackinson's
message ran. "Am observing and will report progress. Any orders?"
In another five minutes the wireless clicked back: "Are any of enemy
flanking mountain on south?"
Jerry, who at that moment entered the tractor, informed them that the
Germans had divided into two diverging lines, apparently for that very
purpose.
There was a considerable pause after this was flashed to headquarters.
Meanwhile Jerry had gone back to his post of observation, accompanied by
Frank and Slim.
"How many big guns?" was the next query from the commanding officer of
the American forces in the sector.
Joe rushed out to where the other three were standing, and from them
returned with the information that already they had counted seven headed
toward the north, and five being hauled toward a place where they might
round the southern base of the mountain.
This news was sent through space to the American army; and the lads who
were the silent witnesses to what the enemy had intended and fully
expected should be a secret movement, waited in silence for further
developments.
"Can you get back over the same road with tractor?" was the next message
that came, and Lieutenant Mackinson called for the more expert judgment
of Frank Hoskins before answering.
"We can try it," said Frank in a rather doubtful tone, "but it's risky
business. It will be as much as we can do to follow the road, and we
can't hope to see the ruts and bumps. The worst part of it is, though,
that the tractor is so heavy it may not hold the road. However, we can
try."
The lieutenant repeated the gist of this to headquarters, and the
message came back: "Better try."
But by the time this decision was reached the fire in the earthen oven
had almost entirely died out, and the engine of the tractor, which had
been drawn up to it, had become so cold that they had to build another
fire, to get hot water to put into the radiator, before they could get
it started.
And then the perilous journey began.
With Frank at the wheel, and running the engine only in low gear, as
compression against gaining speed, the lieutenant and Joe trotted ahead,
one on either side of the road, to indicate the course of the crude
highway.
Jerry and Slim, inside the big truck, were doing their best to hold
things in place as they rocked and jolted over the deep ruts and
gullies.
It must have been this series of terrible jars that finally splashed
grease and oil in on the brake bands. Whatever the cause, it suddenly
became apparent at one of the steepest and sharpest turns in the whole
route that the brakes were not holding.
"Look out!" Frank shouted to Joe and the lieutenant ahead, as he
realized the truck was getting beyond his control. "Better jump!" he
advised Jerry and Slim, standing just behind him.
As Lieutenant Mackinson and Joe ran to either side of the road, the
tractor slid by them at increasing speed. Slim and Jerry, following
Frank's bidding, leaped from the rear and landed unharmed in a
snow-bank.
"Run her into the side of the mountain," shouted Lieutenant Mackinson,
and that was exactly what Frank was doing. It was the only possible way
of saving the tractor from gathering more and more momentum, and,
finally beyond all control, leaving the road and hurtling down the steep
slope.
With all his strength Frank swung the wheel so as to turn the right side
of the car at an angle up the mountain wall that flanked the road. In
this position the machine was still traveling along with great force
when it struck a thick abutting ledge of rock.
There was a sudden jolt, a sharp crack, and Frank was hurtled forward
head first into the snow.
When they had brushed him off and made certain that he was uninjured,
except for an awful jarring up, they began an examination of the
machine.
The right front wheel had been crushed to splinters, the axle was bent,
and the machine was wedged so far under a split edge of the granite as
to be, for the time at least, totally useless.
"Better go back to where we were first," Lieutenant Mackinson said at
last. "We'll take the pack-set with us, and we can probably advise
headquarters of our predicament with that, and also inform them of the
progress of the enemy movement."
Wearily they turned about, each man loaded down with the necessities
that they had to take with them from the wrecked tractor. It was nearing
night when they reached the apex of the mountain again, and their first
desire was to see whether the Germans had entirely passed around the
mountain.
So far as they could see they had!
But the Boches had done more than that. Their heavy guns were being sent
around either side of the base of the mountain, each quota being part of
a good-sized army. But they were sending another strong detachment up
and over the mountain itself!
And the first section of it was less than a mile below, spreading out in
such a way that while a part of it would come over the top, other parts
would go around either side, and they would be fan-like in shape,
forming a virtual comb in the search for any enemies who might be
lurking there.
"The pack-set!" ordered the lieutenant. In a very short time it was set
up, and Jerry was grinding the crank to generate power while the officer
flashed out the headquarters call.
In a moment a message began to come: "J-X. J-X. J-X. J-X."
Lieutenant Mackinson nervously began tapping the key again, but the only
reply was the insistent call for J-X, which was the code call for
themselves.
"No use," said the young officer at last. "We can catch them, with their
stronger range, but we haven't radius enough to send to them."
"Those troops cannot reach here until after dark," said Slim.
"No," Lieutenant Mackinson acknowledged, "but they are in such numbers
that we could not hope to keep our identity or presence hidden, and
they are getting around the mountain quicker than we could get down and
beyond their line."
"It looks as though we were hemmed in," said Frank Hoskins in an even
tone.
"Yes," agreed Jerry, "and in a tight place."