The Attack on the Power-house
Some three weeks after Max and Dale had so unobtrusively re-entered the
Durend works, their plans were laid and their preparations complete.
Eight large shells had been carried off one by one and secreted in a
hole in the bank of the Meuse, at a spot where it was well shaded by
thick bushes. The power-house had been carefully reconnoitred, and the
times and habits of the men and of the sentries carefully noted. The
bulk of the great engines which provided the power required to run the
various workshops were underground, and all the approaches to the
building were commanded by two sentries stationed at opposite corners.
The success of their enterprise was dependent upon one of these sentries
being put out of action for some minutes. This was no easy matter, but
by dint of much discussion and careful observation they reached the
conclusion that it could be done; and, better still, done so that no
alarm need be given.
A Sunday night was fixed for the attempt, because Max and Dale had never
worked on Sundays, and their absence would not therefore be likely to
arouse any subsequent suspicion that they had had anything to do with
the matter. Moreover, all departments of the works were run on reduced
staffs, and the staff of the power-house was reduced proportionately.
The loss of life which both Max and Dale feared might ensue from the
realization of their plans was thus brought to a minimum.
Shortly after midnight, Max, Dale, and Dubec made their way silently to
the little cache of shells in the river bank, and began transporting
them to a point as near the power-house as they could expect to get
without attracting notice. There was a bright moon, but there were also
clouds, and they patiently bided their time, and moved only when the
moon was obscured. It was one o'clock before the whole of the shells had
been transported within easy reach of the power-house.
The sentries were changed at two o'clock, and Max and Dale waited only
until this had been completed. Then they drew near, and took a long look
at the sentry upon the least-exposed corner of the building. He was a
young fellow, and while not looking particularly alert, yet seemed fully
alive to his duties and determined to carry them out. As has already
been explained, he was posted at a corner of the building, and could
command a view of two sides. One of these sides was flooded with the
light of the moon, but the other was in shadow, except at intervals
where it was cut by the light from the windows of the power-house, which
were here on a level with the ground.
After a whispered word or two, Dale left Max and worked his way round
until he was near the side of the building which was in shadow. Watching
his chance, he slipped into the shadow at a moment when the sentry was
gazing the other way. Max now retreated some distance, and then began
boldly advancing towards the building, his feet crunching heavily into
the gravel and giving the sentry every warning of his approach. The
sentry watched him with lazy indifference, but, as he drew near, lifted
rifle and bayonet and challenged.
"Who comes there?"
"A workman with message to the engineer," responded Max in a casual
voice, slackening his pace and coming to a stop a few paces away.
"Pass," replied the sentry indifferently, letting the butt of his rifle
drop again to the ground. Max slouched on again, directing his steps so
that he would pass just in front of the young soldier.
The sentry idly watched the supposed workman, who slouched along gazing
at the ground in front of him in the most stolid fashion. Just as he was
on the point of passing the sentry, however, he shot out a hand, seized
the man's rifle, and tore it from his grasp.
Simultaneously a hand appeared from behind, and a cloth was clapped over
the soldier's nose and mouth and held firmly in position, while another
hand and arm grasped him round the middle.
[Illustration: A CLOTH WAS CLAPPED OVER THE SOLDIER'S NOSE AND MOUTH]
Noiselessly grounding the captured rifle, Max in his turn sprang upon
the sentry and wound both his arms about him, crushing his arms to his
side and preparing to subdue his wildest struggles. Almost immediately,
however, the man's muscles relaxed, as the chloroform, with which the
cloth had been sprinkled, took effect, and Max and Dale lowered him to
the ground.
"Now, Dale, off with his tunic and helmet and put them on," cried Max
rapidly. "Then take his rifle and stand on guard. All is well, and I
believe we shall win through without a hitch."
Dale did as he was bidden. The soldier's tunic and helmet were removed,
and his body was dragged into the shadow close to the wall of the
building. Then Max walked quickly back to the spot where the shells had
been deposited. Here Dubec crouched in readiness.
"Bring them along," whispered Max. "The sentry is disposed of, and we
ought to meet with no interruption."
"'Twas splendidly done," replied Dubec with enthusiasm. "The man seemed
to be overcome as though by magic, and I heard scarce a sound."
In three trips the shells were transported to the power-house and laid
along the wall. Then Max went to one of the windows and looked in.
The power-house was largely underground, and the windows, which ran
around all sides on a level with the ground at intervals of about six
feet, were high above the great boilers. In fact, as Max gazed down he
had a bird's-eye view of the interior, and could see workmen flitting to
and fro, stoking the great furnaces in blissful ignorance of the fact
that a bolt which might destroy them with their engines was on the point
of being shot.
Drawing back his head, Max drew a bomb of his own manufacture from his
pocket and lit the fuse. Then he leaned through the window, and, shading
his mouth with his hands so that his words might carry downwards and be
heard above the roar of the engines, cried in quick, urgent, warning
tones:
"Fly for your lives--the engine-house is being blown up! Fly! fly! fly!"
The workmen looked up, startled, and into their midst Max flung his
bomb. The men scattered to right and left, and a second or two later it
burst with a splutter, sending out a great puff of white, pungent smoke.
It was quite harmless, but the men did not know that, and a great cry of
alarm went up and a terrific stampede began towards the nearest exit.
"Now, Dubec," cried Max energetically, "light the fuses and fling them
in. It matters little where they fall so long as we cover a wide area."
In a few seconds the shells had been flung down into the power-house,
right in among the boilers and machinery. Then the two men took to their
heels and fled, followed by Dale, who had already divested himself of
his borrowed plumes and donned his own.
The success of their enterprise was complete. Hardly had they got clear
of the building before a series of heavy explosions occurred in the
interior of the power-house, followed by the upward burst of great
clouds of smoke and steam. Instantly all the lights in the whole of the
Durend workshops and the great lights in the yard went out, and the roar
of machinery slackened and gradually ceased. The entire works were at a
standstill, and the whirr of lathes and clink of hammers were succeeded
by shouts of alarm from the thousands of workmen as they poured
excitedly out into the open air.
* * * * *
The alarm and excitement were not decreased when, almost immediately,
there was a great outburst of flame in one of the large workshops
devoted to the building of the bodies of railway carriages and trucks,
and the chassis of motorcars. With extraordinary rapidity the flames
leapt up from floor to floor, until the great yards in the vicinity, a
moment before plunged in blackness by the destruction of the
electric-light plant, were again as light as day.
"See that, Max?" whispered Dale in an awestruck voice as the flames
leaped up. "Surely our raid on the power-house cannot have done that?"
"I expect that something was upset in the mad rush for the doors. The
place is full of inflammables, and they will never get the fire out--you
see."
The scene was of absorbing interest, and Max and Dale and the faithful
Dubec mingled with the crowds of excited workmen and thoroughly enjoyed
themselves. Alarm-bells were sounding and bugle-calls ringing in all
directions, and in a few minutes two or three engines dashed into the
yard and began a hopeless fight against the raging fire. Max and his
friends continued to gaze on at the exciting scene until the former was
recalled to himself by the heavy tramp of what seemed to be detachments
of soldiers outside the walls of the yard.
"Listen, Dale, I can hear a lot of troops marching outside. I don't
think their presence bodes any good, and I think we had better be off.
The Germans will be most awfully savage, and will be firing on the mob,
or something of the sort."
"Shouldn't wonder, old man. Well, we've done enough for one night, so
let us join this crowd and leave by the main entrance."
A number of workmen, who were probably of the same mind as Max and did
not like the look of things, were moving towards the gates, and to these
our three friends joined themselves. On reaching the gates, however, the
whole party came to a standstill. The gates were closed, and a dozen
soldiers with fixed bayonets stood on guard in front of them.
"We made a mistake, Dale, in not getting away at once," whispered Max.
"We shall have trouble now, you may be sure."
As he spoke, the gates were opened and a motorcar drove through. It
contained the manager, M. Schenk, and two officers, and came to a stand
on the outskirts of the crowd collected at the gates. The manager
immediately stood up in the car and addressed the crowd in such stern
and peremptory tones that it would have seemed fitter, Max thought, had
the words been uttered by one of the officers at his side.
"Listen, men. A dastardly outrage has just been committed in these
works, and I am determined to bring the guilty ones to justice. I shall
allow no one to leave until he has been thoroughly examined, however
long it may take. Stand aside, therefore, and await your call quietly,
or I shall have recourse to sterner measures."
The car moved on, and the workmen addressed stopped obediently where
they were and began discussing the affair in low, excited tones.
"This sort of thing won't suit us, Dale," whispered Max, as he edged out
of the crowd and began moving away from the gates. "Examinations are not
a strong point with us at present."
"No, we require to study a little more--in strict seclusion," replied
Dale in the same spirit, as they got away from the crowd into the
blackness between a long workshop at a distance from the burning
building and the outer walls.
"Where now, Master," asked Dubec, looking at Max enquiringly as the
three came to an involuntary halt.
"Over the walls and away, I think. We have done enough for one night,
and I fancy Schenk will think so too--eh, Dale?"
"Aye, and say so, if ever he gets the chance," replied the latter.
The party moved to the walls at the darkest point they could find and
prepared to clamber over. The wall was here nearly ten feet high, and it
was necessary for Dubec to plant himself against it and allow Max,
assisted by Dale, to climb on his back. He could then help Dale up also
before clambering on to the top. The rest would be easy enough. But a
rude awakening was in store for them, for Max had no sooner put his head
above the wall than he was greeted by a rifle-shot from the road below,
and a bullet whizzed close overhead.
"Down, Max, down!" cried Dale, clutching at his friend in sudden
consternation.
"I'm all right, old man," replied Max, who, needless to say, had lost no
time in bobbing down below the level of the wall. "But we can't get over
here," he added as he lowered himself gently to the ground. Dale
followed suit, and the three men stood at the foot of the wall and
anxiously debated their next move.
"It is pretty clear," Max summed up, "that the Germans have put a cordon
of soldiers all about the works, and clearer still"--a little ruefully
this--"that their orders are to shoot first and make enquiries
afterwards."
"We must chance it and try to get over somewhere," responded Dale.
"No--too risky. The moment we top the wall we show up plainly against
the light of the fire behind us. We should be noticed at once. We must
try another plan."
"What's that?"
"The river."
"Ah--swim across?"
"Yes--or, better still, float down until we get beyond the roads about
the works."
"But what about Dubec? Can he swim?"
"I don't suppose so. Can you, Monsieur Dubec?"
The answer was a decided negative, and Max went on: "But it doesn't
matter. Dubec doesn't need to leave in the unorthodox way that Schenk
has forced upon us. He is a _bona fide_ workman, and has been working in
the shops for the last three days. He is safe enough."
It was so arranged, and soon the party had gained the shelter of the
bushes at the spot where their stock of shells had been hidden. Max and
Dale then waded waist-deep into the Meuse, and, with a whispered
farewell to M. Dubec, allowed themselves to float down with the stream.
For some yards out the edge of the river was in deep shadow from the
bank, and beyond a gentle movement of the hands to keep them within its
shelter, the two lads let themselves drift at will. The water was warm
and they felt no discomfort, and in half an hour they were beyond what
they considered the danger zone. Clambering out of the river, they wrung
as much of the water as possible out of their clothes and made rapid
tracks for their lodging.
As was to be expected, the destruction of the power-house and the
burning of one of the largest workshops at the Durend works created a
great sensation among both the Germans and the Liegeois. The former
looked upon it, rightly enough, as a determined attempt to interfere
with their exploitation of the manufacturing resources of the city for
the benefit of the invading armies; the latter, as a patriotic and
successful demonstration of the hatred of the Belgians for their
temporary masters and of their determination to hinder them by every
means in their power. It gave the spirit of the people a fillip, and,
despite the redoubled severity of the Germans, the Liegeois went about
their businesses with a prouder air, as if conscious that, though
temporarily overcome, they were very far from being beaten.
On attending for work on the following evening, at the usual hour, Max
and Dale were curtly informed that they would not be required for
another week at least. They had expected this, of course, and were only
disappointed that the holiday was likely to be so short. They had hoped
that the works would be out of action for at least three weeks. But the
manager had set to work with his usual energy. Engines were being
requisitioned from other factories in the town, not engaged in the
manufacture of war supplies, and repairs to those less seriously damaged
were going on with shifts of fresh workmen night and day.
It was nearly a fortnight, however, before the works were again in full
swing, or would have been in full swing had not other events occurred to
hinder the complete resumption of business. That fortnight Max
considered as a specially favourable opportunity for paying further
attention to M. Schenk and his many activities. It meant that the
various workshops were empty, save for two or three watchmen, and that
groups of workmen were necessarily hanging about the premises, idly
watching the proceedings and waiting for the time when they could
recommence work. The first meant opportunities that would not occur when
the workshops were in full swing, and the second that the prowling of
Max and his friends would be the less likely to attract notice.
One of the first things that caught the attention of Max and Dale was
the rapid accumulation of great stocks of coal outside the yard, owing
to the enforced idleness of the power-house. The Durend mines were, of
course, unaffected by the stoppage of the workshops, and coal was sent
up to the surface with the same regularity as before. In fact, the rate
of production was accelerated, as numbers of the workmen thrown out of
employment by the closing of the workshops applied for work at the
collieries. Thus the stores of coal grew and grew, from stacks of the
moderate dimensions (for the Durend Company) of 2000 or 3000 tons, to
great piles of 10,000 and finally 24,000 tons. Then came a rumour that,
as soon as trucks were available, the accumulation was to be transported
into Germany and, worse still, to Krupp's.
This was enough to set Max and Dale discussing the matter with anxious
care. To the former it was as intolerable that the Durend mines should
produce coal for Krupp's as it was that the Durend workshops should cast
shells for the German guns. And yet it was no easy matter to devise
means of dealing with a great mass of coal. Obviously, it could not be
carried off, and to blow it up was hardly practicable. However, after
much discussion, it was decided that an attempt should be made to burn
it. It certainly did not seem a very hopeful scheme, seeing the number
of fire-engines that were close at hand in the city and the unlimited
supply of water in the River Meuse. But to Max and Dale anything seemed
better than to do nothing in such a matter, and they determined to make
the attempt.
For materials all they needed was a good supply of firewood, a gallon or
two of benzine, and some fuses.
The coal stacks were situated on a piece of waste land outside, but
adjoining, the walled-in enclosure of the Durend works. They were
accessible on all sides, but a watchman was always on guard to see that
none of the coal was stolen. This man patrolled round and round the
stacks, keeping a look-out for suspicious characters, especially, of
course, any bearing sacks or baskets which might be used to contain
coal.
It was in the middle of the night that Max and Dale, accompanied by the
faithful Dubec, appeared on the scene. The last was carrying a bulky
sack filled with firewood, Max bore a two-gallon tin of benzine, and
Dale a dummy sack which appeared to be full, but which, as a matter of
fact, contained only a light framework of wood designed to fill it out.
Dale's part of the performance began first. Waiting until the watchman
had passed, he flitted across the road to the coal stack. Then he gave
the stack a kick which sent a number of loose pieces of coal rattling to
the ground. The watchman stopped instantly, and without more ado Dale
turned and bolted down the road in full view.
As was expected, the watchman immediately gave chase, and in a couple of
minutes both men had disappeared from the scene.
Max and Dubec now emerged, and lost no time in getting to work. They
crossed the road to the end of the stack where, in the morning, work
would be resumed. There they made four caches of wood close against the
stack, covered them over with loose coal, and deluged the pile with
benzine. From these caches fuses were laid upward to the top of the
stack, and the whole covered over with more coal.
Long before the watchman had crawled back, grumbling and exhausted from
his long chase after a thief who carried a great bag of coal with an
ease that seemed extraordinary, the two other conspirators had
disappeared from the scene. An hour later they rejoined Dale and spent
half an hour in laughing over his recital of the way in which he had led
the man farther and farther afield by pretending to be always on the
point of dropping from fatigue.
The next day Dubec spent in watching the stacking of further supplies of
coal. The caches of firewood, he reported, had not been noticed, and by
the end of the day another 1200 tons of coal had been dumped against the
stack, completely enclosing them. For one day more Max held his hand,
while he worked at another scheme that was slowly maturing. Then,
immediately after nightfall, he crept to the stack, and, watching his
opportunity, clambered carefully to the top and lit the three fuses.
The smell presently told him that the fires had caught, and he crept
away, satisfied that on the morrow there would be something of a hubbub,
even if no very considerable damage resulted.
It was with the idea of watching developments that Max and Dale applied
for work at the depots next day. They hoped to witness amusing and
exhilarating scenes, and to get as near to the spot as possible they
gladly offered to shovel coal. Their offer was accepted and they were
soon at work transporting coal and shovelling it on to the stacks.
They soon experienced a sense of disappointment. Instead of finding the
stacks enveloped in smoke, and all work suspended for the day, as they
expected, they discovered that work was going on as usual and nothing
seemed amiss.
"Seems to have been a frost, Max," grumbled Dale discontentedly. "All
our trouble and brain-fag gone for nothing."
"I thought so at first, Dale, but I'm not so sure now. See that light
haze yonder? It may be the fires have caught all right but are burning
out for lack of draught. Let's hope they've done a bit of damage
anyhow!"
"H'm!" grunted Dale in a tone of discouragement.
"Besides," Max went on, "this is only a small affair. The next real
attack will come in a day or two, and I hope there will be no failure
there."
"No," replied Dale, brightening up, "if that comes off we shall have
done something worth doing. Schenk will be ready to tear his hair, and
we shall have to look out for ourselves."
"Well, so we will. We shall deserve a rest, and we will retire into
obscurity for a season and recuperate. Another ramble in the Ardennes
would suit us well."
"Especially with a little shooting thrown in--Uhlans, I mean," replied
Dale facetiously.
"There will be plenty of scouting, if not shooting, if all the tales we
hear of those gentlemen be true."
"Aye--but see, Max, how that smoky haze is getting thicker! The pile
must be alight all right after all."
The light fleecy smoke which hovered over the great stack certainly
seemed denser than it was, and a slight smell of burning was in the air.
The other workmen had also noticed it, and hazarded conjectures as to
whence it came, but none of them got very near the mark. All day the
smoke increased, until, by the time the men ceased work, it lay like a
thick fog all about the neighbourhood.
Max and Dale returned to their lodging in high glee, and their joy was
not diminished when they noticed that the wind was beginning to freshen
up.
"This ought to finish the business, Dale," remarked Max. "With a high
wind all night, if the fire doesn't get into its stride it never will."
Soon after daybreak the shrill notes of a bugle in several quarters of
the town and the ringing of fire-bells told our heroes that something
unusual was afoot. They guessed, or rather hoped, that it might be on
their account, and dressed and sallied out as quickly as they could.
Sure enough, an enormous pall of smoke, that a volcano in full eruption
need not have disowned, lay in the air in the direction of the Durend
coal-yards. Fire engines were hurrying to the scene from all parts of
the town, and the hoped-for hubbub seemed to have arrived.
"This is worth a little trouble," remarked Dale with intense relish as
they drew near the burning stack and saw hundreds of soldiers and
firemen hovering actively about the spot.
"Yes, but we may as well take a little more trouble and do the thing in
style," responded Max coolly. "Let us follow these hoses to the river
bank and see whether there is anything doing."
They did so, and, finding that the hoses entered the water at a point
where a patch or two of short scrubby bushes gave cover against chance
watchers, they passed on and struck the bank again a hundred yards
farther on. Then they disappeared from view, and, crawling along under
cover of the bushes, they reached the hoses, and with a dozen rapid
slashes of their clasp-knives effectually put them out of action.
An extraordinary hubbub ensued. Soldiers and firemen rushed about in all
directions, chasing away every unfortunate civilian who had had the
temerity to approach the scene of the fire. In the confusion Max and
Dale had no difficulty in escaping, and retired to the hills, there to
gloat over the further efforts made to fight the fire, which seemed only
to grow fiercer as hundreds of gallons of water were pumped upon it. It
was two days before the fire was completely subdued, and the net result
from a material point of view was that at least 10,000 tons of coal had
been destroyed and the project of transporting coal to Krupp's
effectually quashed. From the point of view of _moral_, the Germans were
the laughing-stock of the town; they were deeply enraged and the
townsfolk proportionately delighted.