TURNING THE TABLES.
This was what happened!
Oscar had for the time being ceased to remember his bruised leg, and
even his grunts had temporarily stopped, which would apparently indicate
that after all his injuries were not so serious as he had made out.
He was now industriously engaged in ridding his garments of some of the
dust which they had accumulated at the time he and Josh rolled over in
the road. To the surprise of Rod he even took out his handkerchief, and
used this to wipe the sleeves of his coat.
Just then Rod, out of the tail of his eye, noticed the fellow give a
quick glance toward Josh and Hanky Panky, both of whom were bending over
the former's machine, anxiously examining to ascertain if it had really
been much damaged.
Instinctively Rod made out to be industriously looking at something of
interest in the near distance. He even shaded his eyes with one hand,
though at the same time he could manage to see Oscar.
It paid him well in the bargain, for he noticed that while dusting his
coat as a dandy detesting all manner of dirt might, the said Oscar also
flirted that white handkerchief in a strange manner.
Then it suddenly dawned upon Rod that the fellow was actually making
some sort of signal to an unknown party further off. He used his eyes to
advantage, for he immediately caught what seemed to be an answering wave
from a patch of trees possibly three hundred yards away, and along the
side of the rise!
This complicated matters exceedingly. Oscar, then, was a fraud of the
first water. His story must be a tissue of lies from beginning to end.
Perhaps even his name had been assumed for a purpose, which was to
entrap the three American boys.
Rod had to think very fast just then. A plan of campaign must be
arranged on the spur of the moment, fitted to cover the case. Of course
he could not more than give a guess as to what it all meant, except that
there was danger in the air for himself and chums.
Could the pretended Swiss-American be in truth a German spy, bent on
taking them prisoner for some mysterious reason or other? Rod felt sure
this could not be, for he had failed to detect a sign of the Teutonic
guttural in the voice of the other. In fact, Rod was inclined to suspect
him of being of French origin, for when speaking he had all the shrugs
and grimaces which so often mark the natives of France, especially when
excited, and making explanations.
The three comrades were almost unarmed. Knowing the constant peril of
capture that menaced them, should they chance to run upon a squad of
German soldiers, Rod had decided that it would be the height of folly
for them to carry firearms; for if found to be armed they were likely to
be considered in the light of guerrillas, since they belonged to neither
army as enlisted men.
Of course the three of them would easily be able to overcome Oscar, who
did not appear to be very brawny in build. But if he had accomplices
near at hand even his capture might not prove sufficient to stave off
the danger.
Rod conceived a better scheme than to simply overpower the suspect. Why
not make him a hostage for the good behavior of his associates? The idea
seized hold of the boy, and in that instant he determined to put it into
immediate practice.
Oscar would be surprised to find that his cunning plot had been seen
through. In fact there would be others in the same fix, for Rod could
imagine the astonishment of Josh and Hanky Panky, possibly utterly
unsuspicious regarding the true course of events.
It happened that Rod had in his pocket a little tool shaped not unlike
one of those modern automatic pistols that can be fired as fast as the
finger presses the trigger. He believed this would answer his purpose
admirably, and acting on the spur of the moment he immediately drew it
forth.
Oscar was still very diligent with that handkerchief of his, switching
it to and fro, as though determined that not a speck of dust should
remain to mar the appearance of his garments. It would seem as though
Oscar must be an exquisite of the first water when on his native heath;
though Rod was more firmly convinced than ever that this was Gay Paree
rather than Cincinnati, Ohio, which he had so boldly claimed as his home
city.
So Rod, sauntering toward the other in an apparently idle fashion,
suddenly came up behind him, and clapped the cold metal tool against the
nape of Oscar's neck, causing a shudder to pass through the other's
whole system.
"Don't try to make a move or you are a dead man!" said Rod, sternly;
"I'll pull the trigger if you so much as turn your head this way!"
"Gee! whilikins!" exclaimed Josh, whirling about; while Hanky Panky,
taken completely by surprise, could only stand there and stare as though
he imagined Rod had suddenly taken leave of his senses, for up to that
moment Hanky had not entertained the slightest suspicion toward the man
they were helping on his way.
Oscar apparently understood; at any rate he remained as motionless as
though carved out of stone. His face went white, and his eyes rolled
wildly in their sockets, but he knew better than to risk having his poor
brains blown out by an incautious movement.
"Your game is up, my friend!" said Rod sternly. "I've been watching you
send a message to some one with that handkerchief of yours. Don't waste
your breath to deny it. You have been trying to lead us into a trap,
perhaps for the sake of helping your friend, Jules. Well, we are on to
your game, and mean to block it. Josh!"
"On deck, Rod!" exclaimed the one addressed, cheerily, with a wide grin
decorating his face; for it amused him to see how after all Rod had
taken matters into his own hands, and turned the tables on the
scoundrel.
"You're getting to be a clever hand at playing the frisking act, Josh,"
continued the leader of the trio; "suppose you look this chap over, and
remove any deadly weapons you may find. I'll keep him still, dead or
alive, while you do it."
"I beg of you to be careful, young M'sieu!" gasped Oscar, betraying his
French origin in that unguarded moment; "I assure you I am not thinking
of offering resistance; and it might be your finger it would slip, to my
everlasting regret."
Josh lost no time in commencing work. As Rod had said, of late the other
had been having considerable experience at this sort of business, and
boasted of being quite an expert.
"Whee! here's a nasty looking gun, Rod!" he speedily announced.
"Hand it here, then, and I'll take possession of it," the other told
him; "then keep on feeling in every pocket, Josh."
"Some papers, Rod--letters they look like," came another announcement
presently.
"Give them to me; when I have time I'd like to look them over, and see
if the hand of our friend Jules is back of this game. Hello! what's
this. These letters are addressed to M. Armand Marchant, Rue de Rivoli,
Paris. Quite a difference between that name and Oscar William Tell, eh?
But I'm not surprised a whit. Keep on looking, Josh, especially for more
ugly guns."
Apparently, however, that one weapon was all the man "toted," for no
more could be discovered.
"All right, then," said Rod when his chum proclaimed the finish of his
search; "I'll change to his own revolver, which I see is nicely loaded.
It is more to be depended on than my own tool," with which remark he
held the article in question before the eyes of the prisoner, who turned
fiery red with confusion and anger, while Josh and Hanky Panky burst
into peals of laughter at the joke.
"Now listen to me," continued Rod, sternly again, "you are to go with us
over the rise here. Remember you are a hostage for our safe conduct. If
your friends attempt to attack us your life will be forfeited the first
thing. So I'd advise you not to try and signal again, if you know what's
good for you."
"One thing I'm glad to tell you, Rod," remarked Josh; "which is that
after all the damage to my machine isn't worth mentioning. I reckon he
meant it to be put out of commission, and even took chances of getting
hurt himself so as to accomplish it; but the Whitcomb luck stuck by me,
all right, all right. Do you think you can move your machine along and
attend to him at the same time, Rod?"
"Oh! that's easily fixed," replied the other, cheerily, "because Oscar
is going to attend to the trundling act for me. It's the least he can do
to make up for the bother he's given us. And his feet have gotten well
in the bargain, just as if a miracle had been wrought. Get busy, Oscar,
and start pushing uphill!"
The man did not dare venture any protest. What was the use of his trying
to plead weariness or a bruised leg when they knew that he was a fraud
of the first water, and had, as Josh would say, "tumbled to his game?"
So he took hold of Rod's heavy machine, and toiled manfully up the
ascent. As he went he cast numerous anxious glances to the right and to
the left; but Rod understood now that these were not in hopes of seeing
his confederates suddenly dash into view, since that would be the signal
for his own troubles to begin; rather was the man mentally praying they
would remain in hiding, having grasped the new state of affairs, which
could not be to their liking.
They reached the crown of the low hill, but did not linger there, for
the position was too exposed. Once down to the level again Rod began to
consider dropping the pilot, as they had no further need of his
protecting services, with the road level and straight stretching away
for miles ahead.