and turned away. Porky watched her squat old bent figure, then drew his
breath sharply as something caught his eye! It was something caught on
one of the ample folds of her ragged skirt, something that glittered!
All the blood in Porky's body seemed to make a mad rush to his head,
then ebbed back to his heart. He started toward the old woman, then
stopped and thought, staring at the object on her skirt. He knew it
well. The old woman stooped to pick up something and the object on her
skirt swung free and glittered in the uncertain light. Porky drew a
sharp breath as he recognized his brother's message. For a message he
knew it to be. The little glittering object was a leather fob strap.
At the end dangled a swimming medal that Beany had won long ago. He had
always carried it as a pocket piece, and in some way it had accompanied
him on the Great Adventure. It had never been out of Beany's pocket.
Yet there it was, hanging to a fold of the old woman's tattered dress
swinging and glittering! Evidently she did not know that it was there.
Porky, suddenly alert, started to his feet and took an impulsive step
toward the old woman. Then, before she had time to notice his action, he
stopped. He could not remove the dangling medal without letting her
know that something was up, and his only move was to watch her when she
left the room. Somewhere, Beany was in trouble! Porky realized that the
message of the medal was a desperate, last resort. A million to one
shot, he told himself anxiously; but it had reached him, and while he
lived there was hope for Beany. He studied the old scrubwoman with a
new understanding. She no longer appeared harmless, stupid and
ignorant. The keen twinkle in her old eyes; what had it meant? The
seemingly simple and innocent question, "Your brodder. Ware iss he?"
was just to sound him, the boy decided. He knew, all at once, that she
knew all about Beany. To follow her was to find his brother, alive, or
... Porky could not say the rest even to his own soul. He _would_
follow her! He would _find_ the brother whom he loved better than his
own life! His blood boiled when he thought of the condition he might
find that dear one in, and he set his jaw in a way that promised
desperate things.
Old Elise went pottering around the room, unconscious of the glittering
eyes bent steadfastly on her, and ignorant of the glittering trifle
fastened to her dress. Porky felt that he would gladly barter years of
his life to know how it came to be there, but he clung to the happiest
reason that he could think up: Beany himself had in some way fastened it
on the old woman. Porky decided to obey the summons as he imagined them
to have been sent. By hook or crook, he would follow the old woman, sly
and crafty as he now believed her to be. By hook or crook, he would
find his brother. Starting towards the old woman, he waited until she
stooped over the General's table, wiping off the papers with a careful,
shaking old hand. Porky, suspicious of everything now, fancied that she
swiftly read the words on the uppermost pages, but he was busy with deft
fingers unfastening the fob from the tattered skirt. He slipped it in
his pocket, picked up a pencil and pad from the table, and once more sat
down by the window. A few minutes later, while the old woman still
pottered around, Porky rose and idly left the room, whistling as he did
so. He unconsciously repeated Beany's performance in the dusky hall. He
went to the turn, and dropping on one knee, bent a steady gaze on the
door he had just closed. He was rewarded in a moment by a sight of the
old woman. She came out of the General's office, softly closing the
door behind her, and commenced feeling over the secret panel. It
opened, and she entered, closing it as she went, but not before Porky
was beside it, his eye on the spot he had seen her old fingers press.
He waited for what seemed to him an eternity, then pressed the carved
ornament of old oak. It gave, and the opening panel disclosed the
passage in the wall down which Beany had so recklessly followed his
quarry.
Porky was cautious, yet determined. Noiselessly he trailed the old spy
until they reached the great chamber where the big bed was. Not once
did she look behind. It did not occur to her that she could possibly be
watched or followed. She had grown careless. She did not even mind the
fact that she had left the heavy door swinging ajar behind her. Why,
indeed, should she? Was not the door in the panel too cunningly
contrived for any one to find, except perhaps that Boy Scout who now sat
fettered in his chair waiting his end? His brother ... bah! She had
left him above. She crossed the room, and stooped to reach a shawl she
had thrown on the high bed. As she bent, something light and strong and
cat-like leaped upon her seizing her wrinkled throat in a vise-like
grip. She could not scream. In a second the curtain of the bed was
wrapped over her, fold on fold. She struggled furiously, but to no
avail. She was nearly smothered. Porky didn't much care. He worked in
a frenzy of haste. He pulled down the thick cords that had been used to
pull the bed curtains open and shut, and tied his human bundle securely.
Then with a cautious thought he shoved her under the high bed, and made
for the inner room.
It was silent. A single candle burned on the table. Beany sat in his
chair. He was bound and gagged. As Porky sped across the room he saw
the diabolical contrivance hanging above the boy's head.
A massive blade with a heavily weighted handle hung directly over the
boy, point down. The cord which held the weapon passed through a pulley
to another pulley, and from there to the table. There it was fastened to
a short stick that was strapped to the alarm key of a common alarm
clock. As Porky's quick glance took in the whole scene, the little
alarm clock gave the cluck that precedes the striking of the alarm.
Porky made a dash across the room, as the alarm commenced to sound and,
seizing his brother's chair, swung him aside as the whirling alarm key
tightened the cord. One after another, with deadly swiftness, the cords
tightened until a quick pull on the smallest cord of all, a mere thread,
snapped it.
The heavy blade seemed for a moment to balance in air, then it dropped
down and buried its razor point six inches deep in the old floor.
Not until then did Porky slash the cords which bound his brother, and as
Beany shook himself free, with many faces to ease his tired jaw where
the gag had pressed it, Porky dropped limply into a chair and mopped his
brow.
"The sword of Damocles!" was all he said.
"Don't know the gent," said Beany huskily. "Did some guy play this trick
on him! If he felt as nervous as I did before you came, I feel good and
sorry for him. Gosh, I have been sitting all trussed up there for about
a year! Let's get out of this!"
"No special hurry," said Porky wearily. He could not recover at once
from the shock, but Beany was chipper as a cricket.
"Well, I don't know," he said, "I have not grown so fond of this little
old dungeon that I want to reside here long. Besides, perhaps you don't
know the old lady who sweeps upstairs as well as I do. She is apt to be
up to almost any trick."
"Not if the Court knows himself, and he thinks he does," said Porky
positively. "I left her under the bed in the other room with about a
mile of flossy curtain cord twined around her. She is safe enough. We
will go up and report this little affair, and get a couple of men to
come down and take her to the General. She is a hard character. A spy,
in fact."
"I guess I know that!" said Beany, rising and rubbing his stiff legs and
arms. "I have a lot more to report than you have. Let's be off!"
Together they hurried into the first chamber, and made for the door
leading into the passage. Porky, in passing, looked under the bed. Then
with a gasp he looked again and, dropping on one knee, seized a bundle
of ragged clothing and a tangle of crimson curtain cords.
He looked at them, turning them over and over. Then he shook them. Then
he looked under the great high bed again.
"What ails you?" demanded Beany impatiently.
"She's--she's gone!" said Porky feebly.
The old woman had vanished.
*CHAPTER VI*
*DEATH CLOSE BEHIND*
"Cut for the passage!" cried Porky as he realized that his quarry had
escaped and knew that her release meant fresh dangers for them.
Instinctively he held on to the bundle in his hands, and with Beany at
his heels raced through the door and up the narrow passage that led to
the secret door in the panel.
They found it closed tight. Furiously the boys shook and tugged at the
heavy handle which was wont to turn and release the sliding panel. It
did not budge. They shook and banged.
"It's no good," said Porky finally, as they paused, gasping and out of
breath. "We are trapped!"
"Some one will hear us if we bang long enough," said Beany, kicking at
the secret door.
"Not so you would know it," said his brother bitterly. "You can't hear
a sound. That paneling is six inches thick along here. Made so on
purpose, I suppose. We had better go down and try to get out by the
passage that leads into the garden."
They turned and hurried back, retracing their steps through the passage
and the two underground rooms. As Beany passed the great sword, he
dragged it from its upright position in the floor and took it with him.
"I guess this belongs to me as much as to any one," he said grimly.
"I'll take it home to Pop."
As he, spoke, the candles on the table shook in a sudden draft and went
out.
"That's about the last straw!" said Porky, falling over a chair.
"Gimme your hand!" said Beany. "I know where the passage is and it is
short, because I counted the number of steps they took before I heard
the outside door open and smelled the outside air. I know it opens into
the castle garden because I heard them talking about going out that way.
Oh, I have a long story to tell you, Porky, but it will have to wait
until we are well out of this. I don't feel any too happy yet."
He clasped his brother's hand in his with a sudden close pressure.
Porky returned it, and laid an affectionate arm around his brother's
shoulder as together they went cautiously toward the passage leading to
the garden.
They found it easily; Beany had used his eyes to good advantage.
Feeling carefully as they went, they reached the end where a massive,
rough door barred their way.
Porky drew a box of safety matches from his pocket, and by their feeble
light they examined the heavy barrier. There was no sign of a latch or
keyhole, but the door was securely fastened on the other side.
They were trapped!
"Well, what do you know about that!" muttered Beany, scowling. He felt
slowly along the crack of the closely set door and pressed the barred
surface, but it did not give under his touch.
Porky flipped a match out of his fingers as it burned him, and the boys
stood motionless in the darkness, wondering what to do next. Beany
leaned on the hilt of the long sword; Porky traced figure eights on the
wall beside him with the tip or the scorched finger that had held the
match.
Beany leaned over and tapped his shoulder.
"What's the noise back there?" he whispered.
"Didn't hear anything," answered Porky after a breathless pause of
listening.
"I certainly heard something," declared Beany. "Let's pussyfoot back and
see if we can find out what it was. I _know_ I heard something.
Perhaps our dear friend the old dame is somewhere around."
"There was nothing for her to hide in or behind," said Porky. "The bed
was the only piece of furniture large enough and, besides, I feel sure
she skipped out the other passage. What would she come back for? She
must have known that we were here."
"There is mighty little she _doesn't_ know if any one should ask you,"
answered Beany. "Oh, just wait until I have a chance to tell you the
whole yarn! Only it is not finished yet. There were a couple of
prisoners in the room I was in, a young fellow in uniform and a girl.
They must have carried them into the garden when they turned my chair
around so I could look toward the way you came in. I heard them
scuffling about."
"Well, let's go take a look," said Porky.
They silently retraced their steps back to the great chamber where the
bed stood. Carefully, with their backs to the wall, they lighted a
couple of candles they had taken from the table. The room was empty,
but with the keen trained sensitiveness of young animals, they sensed
danger.
"I bet it is the bed," said Porky as though answering a question.
"Let's look it over."
Beany, holding the candles, stood by as Porky carefully removed the
tumbled and tattered fragments which had once been satin and down
coverlets fit for queens to dream under. He cautiously lifted the top
feather bed in his arms and laid it on the floor. Beany gave a gasp
and, reaching forward, almost flung himself on a black object which
rolled down into a depression in the under bed. He fumbled with it, then
stood erect, his face glistening with a cold sweat. He pointed to the
object in silence.
Porky stooped over it. It was a time bomb, large enough and vicious
enough to wreck the entire wing.
"That's funny," said Porky. "You turned the trick that time but it does
seem they are taking a lot of bother just to get rid of us."
"Why, you're crazy!" said Beany. "What's over this room? The General's
office, of course! That was the trick. They had us in here, and after
she got away, the old woman came back and set that thing where she
thought we would never think to look for it. I think she heard us in
the passage that goes to the garden, and thought we would stay there
fussing with that outside door. If this thing went off, of course it
would wreck this room, and even if we were not killed by falling stones,
we would be trapped in there like a couple of rats. Well, it will never
harm any one now, but we have got to get out of here somehow or other."
Both boys were unnerved and shaken They stood looking at each other.
They knew that it must be very late, but overhead they could hear the
muffled tramp of booted feet in the General's office. They stood gazing
at the oak paneled ceiling. A big square directly over the high bed was
sagging, and it was there that they could hear the sounds from above.
Porky commenced to study the situation.
The bed was a four poster, hundreds of years old. When the castle had
been shelled, it had been brought down from some upper room of state.
The high, massive posts, beautifully carved, supported a great roof of
heavily carved black oak.
"Look here," said Porky. "Can't we shin up on top and beat on the floor
with the hilt of that sword?"
"What good would that do?" demanded Beany. "They wouldn't know where to
find us. I don't believe we could make enough racket anyhow so they
would pay any attention to it."
Porky thought a moment, then to Beany's disgust he commenced to caper
around in a manner that Beany thought little befitted their serious
position. He knew that when the explosion failed to occur, some one
would be sent back by the master spy, and Beany could not doubt that
that would mean a quick death for them both.
"What ails you?" he demanded.
"Just this," said Porky. "We will rap out a call for help in the
code--the Morse code. Half the fellows in that office understand it.
If there is any one there at all, they will catch on."
"Honest, Porky--" said Beany, then he stopped. He certainly was proud
of Porky but decided not to tell him so.
Porky chuckled. He knew what his brother was thinking. "Some little
nut, eh?" he asked, patting his own head.
"Tell better after you have tried it," growled Beany, shinning up the
post nearest him. Porky started after him.
"Wait!" said Beany. "We will have to have a chair. You can't reach
high enough."
It was difficult to get one of the massive carved chairs aloft. They
had to tear the bedding into ropes and pull it up in that way; but once
on the top, Porky shinned hastily up and mounted it. He was rather
quicker at telegraphy than Beany.
He wrapped his handkerchief around the blade of the long sword, so he
could grasp it, and beat heavily on the paneled ceiling. Then he shook
his head.
"Listen to that!" he complained. "That loose panel will have to come
down. You couldn't hear that little clack a foot away. Steady me."
He handed the sword to Beany and, springing up, clutched the loose
sagging edge of woodwork in his lean, muscular hands. It sprung up and
down under his weight, but did not give.
"Grab my feet and pull!" he ordered over his shoulder.
Beany obeyed.
There was a sharp tussle but the old, centuries old wood was not proof
against the fresh young strength measured against it. It suddenly gave
way and a couple of yards fell with a clatter and cloud of dust, hurling
the boys flat on the top of the bed canopy, which swayed in an alarming
manner.
They shoved the paneling over the edge, and stood up. Once more their
candles were out, but Porky lit a match and soon the little flame made a
light about them. Beany kicked something with his toe.
"What's that?" he said.
"Don't know," said Porky, rubbing his hands together. "There's a couple
more of them.
"Don't bother with that junk! Bundles of rags, I suppose. We have got
to get out of here. You don't know what those spies will be up to
next."
But Beany, always curious, ripped a hole in the side of the rough, pouch
in his hand.
"It's full of gold money," he said.
"My word!" said Porky, looking down from the chair. "Scoop 'em all into
your pockets, for the love of Mike!"
"Pockets!" said Beany scornfully. "There's a couple of _quarts_ of
stuff in these three bags!"
He slipped out of his blouse and, tying the sleeves together, made a
sort of bag in which he carefully placed the sacks. Then he stepped
carefully across their swaying platform and steadied the chair on which
his brother stood with the sword hilt thrust between the huge rafters
against the floor above.
The tramping in the room overhead sounded quite clear now that the
paneling was gone. It annoyed Porky, who was trying the best he knew to
make his pounding heard.
"Why don't the geezers sit down?" he complained. And as though in
answer, there was a sudden silence above.
"It won't be so funny if they have all gone away," said Beany, listening
intently.
"You bet it won't!" said Porky, beating still harder.
"They are all there," said Beany. "If they had gone out, we would have
heard the steps all turning in the direction of the door, which is over
there behind you."
"Well, here goes!" said Porky, pausing a moment to rest. "I am going to
give the wireless call for help."
Then while both boys almost stopped breathing, Porky slowly and
distinctly tapped out the thrilling summons that turns great ships out
of their courses to race across leagues of angry sea to help the
perishing.
"S.O.S! S.O.S!" Over and over, carefully, slowly Porky rapped, pausing
now and then to listen.
"No go!" said Beany despondently.
"Wait," whispered Porky; "they are stirring up there."
Once more he rapped out his message, and gave a groan of relief as
faintly but distinctly a spurred heel on the floor above beat the
answer:
"We hear. Where are you? Who speaks?"
As rapidly as he dared Porky, who was an expert in the code, explained
their position, gave the necessary directions for opening the secret
door in the panel, received an "All right!" from above, and the boys,
leaving the chair standing in its lofty position, slid down the bed
post, Beany still clinging stubbornly to the sword.
As they stood for a moment beside the great bed, a gust of fresh air
entered the room.
"The garden door!" Beany hissed in his brother's ear. "They are coming!
Run for it!"
The boys turned and raced for the passage leading to the upper hall. As
they ran Porky stumbled against a chair. It went over with a crash.
They turned as they hurried through the door leading into the passage.
Behind them, just perceptible to their eyes now accustomed to the
darkness, three forms came running in relentless pursuit. One form
reached them just as they turned into the passage. Beany paused in his
flight and blindly hurled the heavy sword full at his pursuer, then
slammed the door and followed Porky, now several yards ahead of him.
Death was close behind.
*CHAPTER VII*
*THE IRON BOX*
There was no need for silence now. The boys heard a stumble as though
someone had crashed over some obstruction. The door behind them was
flung open. Swift feet pursued them.
"Hope the door's open!" gasped Porky, as he ran fleetly on up the
uneven, winding passage.
In the office above there had been an anxious period. Two members of a
staff, even though they are only boys, cannot disappear as though the
earth had swallowed them without a suspicion of foul play. When General
Pershing received the report, he at once sent couriers and scouts to
every station where the boys might have gone. On being questioned, the
sentries one and all declared that the two boys had not been seen
outside of the building. This resulted in a combing out of every cranny
that could possibly hold a boy alive or dead.
The hours dragged on. There was a continual passing to and fro for
hours until at last there seemed to be absolutely nothing more to do
until morning. The tired staff threw themselves into the office chairs,
while the General, at the typewriter, commenced a letter. Out of
respect to him, there was a complete silence in the room.
On and on clicked the typewriter while the waiting men dozed or smoked
or thought of home.
"What's that?" said one of them suddenly, listening intently.
The General stopped writing and looked at the speaker.
"What's what?" questioned a captain, frowning.
"That tapping," said the first speaker. "Sounds like _code_."
"You have been asleep," said the captain, grinning.
"I hear it," said the General.
There was a general gathering up of forces, as the whole room tried to
place the faint, monotonous tapping.
"The call for help!" said the first speaker triumphantly. "I _knew_ I
heard it. The code is my native language almost. It sounds as though
some one was calling from below the floor."
"Send an answer, Lieutenant Reed!" ordered the General.
The young officer obeyed, while his hearers listened breathlessly.
Tap-tap went the spurred heel, dash and dot, dash and dot in many
combinations.
The reply followed swiftly. The Lieutenant, rather pale, turned to the
General. "It's the boys!" he reported. "They are together, in a closed
chamber,--a dungeon, I take it--right below us. They are in danger.
Don't say what. Something about spies and dynamite. Want help
instantly."
"How?" asked the General
"There's a secret door in the oak panel in the hall. They gave
directions for opening it."
"Go at once, six of you--you six nearest the door!" The officers
designated rose.
"Rush!" said Lieutenant Reed crisply. For the moment he was in command.
He alone knew how to open the panel. They hurried outside, where Reed
felt swiftly but carefully in the place described by Porky. Twice he
went over the heavy carving, pushing here and there unavailingly. Then
without a sound the secret door opened and before any one could enter
the passage that yawned in inky blackness before them, there was a rush
of running feet and the two boys, carrying Beany's coat between them,
bolted into the hall. Porky made a motion for silence, and listened.
There was no sound.
"Somebody chased us!" he panted. "Somebody was close behind us in the
dark!"
"Men?" asked an officer in an excited whisper.
Porky wanted to say "No, sir, _rabbits_!" but he knew that every one
felt nervous and edgy and, besides, he did not want to be disrespectful
to the officer who had spoken.
"They came in through the other door," he said. "A door at the other
end of the passage that is on the other side of the two big rooms down
below there."
"Let's go down," said one of the men, loosening his revolver.
"Please don't try it!" begged Beany. "We could never get down without
light and then they would have the drop on us. It's no use now.
Besides, they could go out of that outside door without the least
trouble after they had shot us all up."
"The kid is right," said Lieutenant Reed. "He knows how the land lies
down there. Come up to the General, boys, and make a report. He will
tell us what he wants done."
Sliding the panel shut, the Lieutenant called a guard and, leaving the
hallway patrolled by a couple of stalwart Americans, the group
surrounding the two boys entered the office and saluted the General.
General Pershing bent his serious, keen gaze on the boys, then a bright,
sudden smile lighted the strong, handsome face that had grown sad and
still in the troubled, anxious months at the front.
"Always up to something, boys," he said. "Well, your friend the Colonel
warned me how it would be. Now suppose you tell me all about it."