Across the Frontier
A train steamed slowly into Storbach station. The stationmaster and a
host of officials crossed the platform and prepared to search and
interrogate the passengers with that thoroughness and also with that
lack of courtesy and consideration which seem peculiarly Prussian.
The engine-driver and his fireman, momentarily released from toil,
crossed to the near side of their engine, leaned over the rail, and
prepared to enjoy the proceedings. The platform was well lighted, but
beyond was a wall of darkness into which the eye could not penetrate
more than a yard or two. Suddenly, out of this obscurity, three men
appeared. Swiftly they crossed the platform, and, without a moment's
hesitation, sprang upon the engine.
"See this?" growled one of them--it was Peck--levelling his bayonet at
the engine-driver who had shrunk back into the cab. "You do? Well, then,
keep quiet or you'll feel it--sharp. We're desp'rit men, we are, and
that's all about it."
The engine-driver understood well enough, and the fireman, who had been
similarly cornered by another of the trio, seemed to understand equally
well that the first doubtful movement on his part would be his last.
Full possession having thus been obtained, the three new-comers gave an
eye to what was happening on the platform.
Events there were sufficiently exciting. From all sides armed men of a
particularly wild-looking variety had suddenly invaded the platform. One
group had promptly seized the telegraph office and seen to it that no
messages appealing for help should be sent along the wires in either
direction. In fact they went a step further, and put the instrument out
of action so thoroughly that all risk from this source was at an end for
a long time to come.
The main body as promptly attacked the guard of soldiers in charge of
the station and overwhelmed them utterly at the first onrush. German
Landsturm and Landwehr troops were as children in the hands of these
veteran British and French soldiers, and complete victory was won at the
cost of two men slightly wounded only. Then came the turn of the
astonished officials, railway porters, and the few passengers waiting to
enter the train. These surrendered with commendable promptitude, and,
dumbfounded with amazement, were shepherded into one of the
waiting-rooms and locked securely in.
The passengers on the train were ordered out on to the platform, ushered
into another waiting-room, and there similarly secured. All was now
ready, and Max gave the signal for the men who had been stationed
outside, guarding all exits, to close in and for the whole of the band
to entrain.
Running forward to the engine, Max sprang up and gave the signal to
start.
"Full speed ahead, Peck. Let her go."
That worthy, by the aid of very expressive pantomime, assisted by a
sentence or two in German from Max, quickly induced the engine-driver
and fireman to perform their offices, and the train moved out from the
platform to the tune of suppressed cheers from its delighted occupants.
The two miles to the frontier were covered in a few minutes, and with a
cheer, no longer suppressed but full of heart-felt gladness, the
fugitives saw the last outpost of their enemies flash by. They were now
in a friendly country and had only to play their cards with care and
moderation to find themselves once more on the way to their native
lands.
Presently Max ordered the train to be brought to a standstill. They were
now well into Holland and there were no line guards, and, at that hour,
none to mark their doings. All rifles and bayonets were handed out and
dropped into a muddy ditch. Then the journey was resumed until they
reached a siding into which the train could be run.
The driver and firemen were gagged, bound hand and foot, and left in
charge of their empty train while their captors marched on foot across
country _en route_ for Rotterdam. They were stopped and questioned many
times, but on each occasion they were eventually allowed to proceed.
At the great Dutch port Max and Dale took leave of their soldier
friends. Max, now that he had brought the band to safety, wished to seek
out his mother and sister, and Dale, of course, must go with him.
On the deck of a ship bound for England the two friends said good-bye to
Shaw and his stanch command, and when they trod the gangway back to the
shore of Holland the cheer that went up brought all the Dutchmen and
German spies about the dock hurrying to the scene. Huzza after huzza
rent the air, and, when the ship drew away out into the stream on its
way to the ocean, the strains of the Marseillaise and Rule Britannia
could be heard high above the throb of engines and the clank and rattle
of the busy port.
"Fine fellows, those," remarked Dale with more than a suggestion of
regret in his voice.
"None better," replied Max emphatically. "And how well the men of the
two races worked together. I think it must be an earnest of the way
France and Britain will work together in the great alliance."
"Aye. And what part are _we_ going to play, old man?" asked Dale
eagerly. "'Pon my word I feel all on fire to get to work and strike a
few good blows for England."
"So we will, but we have earned a rest, so let us go to Maastricht and
stay quietly with my mother and sister for a little while. Then we will
go to England and offer ourselves for service in any capacity in which
we can be of most use. Then 'hard all' right up the course."
"Hurrah! I'm with you. Forward all! Paddle!"
"But I should like a job that will give me a chance to give an eye
occasionally to the Durend works," presently remarked Max meditatively.
"There you go again," groaned Dale. "Those works of yours are the bane
of my life. There's no getting away from them for a moment."
"They're my special job, and Schenk is my special enemy," replied Max in
the steady resolute tone Dale knew so well. "There is no one who can
take my place there in thwarting the enemy's plans, and while I live I
can never forget it."
"I don't believe you can," agreed Dale comically, "so it's no use my
trying. I suppose that will be the end of your fine talk about our
offering our services to the British authorities?"
"Not at all, old man. What about the Secret Service? With our knowledge
of Belgium and its languages I should think they might find us
employment that will be every whit as useful to the Allies as fighting
in the ranks. And it will give me a chance, occasionally, to see what
Schenk is up to, and, perhaps, to try another fall with him."
"Well, _that_ doesn't sound so bad. Anyway it is good enough to think
about a little more before we make up our minds. Now for Maastricht and
that rest we've been chasing ever since we left Liege for the Ardennes.
At last there seems a chance of our getting it."
At Maastricht Max had a joyful reception. His mother had never lost hope
of his safe return, but the suspense had been trying, and the news from
Liege had not been of a kind to reassure her. However, here he was back
again, safe and sound, and in that fact all fears and anxieties were
forgotten. Dale shared in the welcome, and for a week or two the friends
stayed happily at home. Then the leaven began to work again, and one day
Dale found Max going carefully through the miscellaneous lot of papers
which he had taken from his father's safe along with the money and
securities on which his mother had since been living.
"Business, eh?" he enquired jocularly.
"Something of the sort," admitted Max. "Looking through those old papers
we raided out of Schenk's clutches. Some of them are his and not my
father's, and I can see why he was so anxious to get them back again.
Why, here is correspondence--between the rascal and someone who, I
expect, is an agent of the German Government--dating back years before
the war, in which Schenk is instructed to prepare the Durend works for
the eventuality of a German occupation of Liege. It's all here, even to
the laying down of concrete gun-platforms, one of which the impudent
beggar disguised as our tennis-court."
"Good! Anything else?"
"Nothing quite so good as that. Plans of the Durend mines and works and
such-like. They may be useful some day."
"When we get rid of Schenk, eh? That will be some time yet, so you need
not bother your head about plans of the works. In fact, to put it
mildly--I don't want to hurt your feelings--I expect the place will be
so altered when you get it back that you won't recognize it, and those
plans will be of mighty little use to you or anyone else."
"Yes," replied Max thoughtfully. "You're referring to Schenk's threat
that, if ever the Germans had to leave Liege, he would smash up the
works so thoroughly that not one brick would be left upon another?"
"Aye."
"He's just the man to do it."
"He is that. And the less reason for you to bother about the place. It's
no use worrying; it can't be helped."
"I'm not so sure. Anyway I'm going to do what I can to save the place.
As for these papers of Schenk's, I'm going to hand them over to the
British consul. They'll be useful, I don't doubt, as one more proof of
Germany's deep-laid plans for war."
Max did as he proposed, and the papers were accepted with alacrity and
forwarded to the British Foreign Office. At the same time Max made
application on his own and Dale's behalf for employment in Belgium as
members of the British Secret Service. After a week or two's delay,
during which time enquiries no doubt were being made into their
credentials, an official arrived with the necessary documents, and after
a long conversation, detailing exactly what was required of them, Max
and Dale were accepted and enrolled.
A few days later they had said good-bye to their home in quiet
Maastricht and were away across the frontier, in the great whirlpool of
the war once more.
They resumed the disguises of Walloon workmen, which had already served
them in such good stead, and applied for work in Liege and all the big
towns of Belgium. For two years and more they worked steadily, in
different workshops up and down the country, gathering news and
transmitting it faithfully to the agents of the British Government. They
were cool and reliable observers, and their information was found to be
so uniformly accurate that it was relied upon more and more as the
months went by.