RESCUED
“Count Topoff” undoubtedly did not appreciate the situation, or he would
not have acted so rashly. He drew a pistol and fired point blank at the
soldier in the lead. This was a signal for the Americans to answer in a
business-like manner, which they did without ceremony, and “Mr.
Boaconstrictor” dropped dead with several bullets in his body. Two of
the Marines were wounded by the one shot fired by the mysterious
“relative of the kaiser,” but not seriously.
This was the extent of the battle. The soldiers had taken possession of
the chateau without other resistance. The British spy had prepared the
way for the raid, having managed to get information to the allies of
conditions at the century-old castle. He did this by means of Morse-code
signaling to a fleet of American aviators just returning from an air
raid over enemy territory, and it was answered with assurance that they
would return prepared to raid the place.
There were only six prisoners in the chateau, but three of them were
French and American spies with information of great importance. There
were also only half a dozen boche guards in the place, including the
orderly who had acted as Topoff’s personal servant. All but the latter
were men of advanced age, too old for military service, and, as the
fleet of aeroplanes that had arrived with a score of soldiers, could not
carry the released prisoners and the captured boches very well, the
latter were given their freedom as the raiders flew away, back behind
the American lines.
On the way Phil rode in a large machine with the British spy, whose
resourcefulness may have saved him from further untold torture and, it
may be, death, for Phil subsequently grew extremely doubtful of his
ability to make his “subterrene yarn stick.”
The spy’s name was Roscoe Chance. He proved to be an excellent type for
impersonating almost any Caucasian nationality, and as he had studied
German at college and spoke the language fluently he had been chosen as
specially gifted to handle the secret service work that was consummated
by the air raid which resulted in the rescue of Phil from the most
fiendish torture.
Before they started on their return to the American lines, Chance gave
Phil the following brief account of the history of the mysterious “Count
Topoff”:
“He was a Prussian spy in France for twenty years, owning the chateau in
which he lived. He pretended to be a great friend of the French cause,
had even become a citizen of France to camouflage the real nature of his
business. But an English spy in Berlin heard a rumor that Topoff was a
relative of the kaiser and reported this to his government. I was
therefore sent here to find out what I could.
“But it seems he was on guard against the very thing I was after, and I
was unable to detect a suspicious look or act until after the last big
drive of the enemy. Meanwhile I had managed to convey to him the idea on
a number of occasions that my sympathies were on the other side of the
Rhine, so that I was in a position to take up the role of a boche when
he revealed his true colors.
“I made quite a hit with him, and found that he was in constant secret
communication with Berlin. His second lieutenancy was a mere camouflage,
for he was high up in secret service rank. I got considerable
corroboration of the report that he was a relative of the kaiser, but no
direct confirmation.”
“There’s just one peculiarity about him that I’d like to understand,”
said Phil. “Why did he run so much risk of being killed by mixing in
infantry battles right at the front?”
“There’s only one reason I can give for that,” Chance replied, “and I
think it’s the true one. He was a clever, shrewd rascal, but also a
brazen daredevil. There’s no doubt he had lots of courage, and it’s a
wonder he wasn’t killed long ago. In spite of his misshapen physique he
was powerful and quite active. He seemed to have almost a mania for
proving that his big girth was no obstacle to his putting up just as
good a fight as a slender athlete could put up.”
The squadron of aeroplanes made the return trip without encountering an
enemy plane. No doubt there were boche air-fighters within sighting
distance, but it is also probably true that they could not muster
sufficient available force to meet the Yanks, so they remained in
hiding. Two days later Phil met Tim, who had been transferred
temporarily from trench duty to Headquarters messenger service, and they
had a half hour’s conversation over their recent experiences. He met
also Dan Fentress and Emmet Harding, two of the twelve Marines who made
their escape from the boche prison in advance of the remaining 240. They
had managed to get back with the American army in a manner similar to
the scheme worked by the larger body of prisoners. The other ten, Phil
learned months afterward, were recaptured by the enemy and finally were
returned, after the armistice, as released prisoners of war.
And, oh, yes, by the way, before the signing of the armistice, which
meant virtually the end of the war, Phil was wearing the bar of a
lieutenant, and Corporal Tim became a sergeant.
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.