THE GATHERING STORM
Events moved on swiftly for the next few days. History was being made
at a more rapid rate than ever before. War was in the air and
everybody felt it.
"Something's got to break mighty soon, Bart," remarked Frank, as he met
his friend one morning.
"Can't come too soon for me," said Bart. "Ever since we broke off
diplomatic relations I've known there could be but one end to it.
That's never been done yet without a country finally going to war."
"And it won't this time either," agreed Frank. "The fact is, I'd be
almost sorry if it did. I'm getting so sore at the way the Germans are
trying to ride rough shod over the world that I'm anxious to get a
whack at them."
"I, too," declared Bart. "The cool way in which they offered part of
the United States to Mexico has got me so riled that I can't think of
anything else but getting even. And you notice how, in spite of all
warning, they keep on sinking American ships! They figure that we're
just bluffing. Their newspapers keep telling them that we're only a
nation of shopkeepers who think of nothing but the almighty dollar and
that we're making so much money out of the war in selling munitions to
the Allies we'll take good care not to get into it ourselves."
"They're just about due to wake up out of their dream," said Frank,
grimly. "They make a big mistake when they think our patience is
cowardice, or greed for money. As a matter of fact, there isn't a
nation in the world so unselfish as America. Look at the way we went
into the Spanish war--just pure humanity, to save Cuba from the horrors
she was undergoing at the hands of that butcher, Weyler. And see how
quickly we gave Cuba her independence as soon as the war was over and
she was ready for it. There isn't another nation in the world that
would have let such a rich prize slip through her fingers when once she
had laid her hands on it."
"Oh, well, the Germans are fed up on lies, anyway," responded Bart.
"That's the only way the government can keep up the spirits of the
people. The newspapers say just what the Kaiser tells them to say.
Some day the papers will tell them that the Americans have horns and
hoofs, and they'll swallow it without winking."
"They'll see for themselves what we are," said Frank, "when our boys go
over the top and meet them face to face."
"I just got a letter from Billy Waldon," went on Bart. "He's been down
on the Mexican border chasing Villa and his gang. Says he's in fine
shape and feeling like a two-year-old. His regiment's been ordered
back, and he'll be with us soon. Says he's honing to get a crack at
the Germans."
"Billy's a fine fellow," said Frank heartily, "and the experience he's
been getting in Mexico ought to help him a lot when he gets in the
French trenches, if he ever does."
"He'll get there all right," asserted Bart. "I hear that the first
thing the Government will do will be to put the national guard
regiments in the regular army. You know the old Thirty-seventh that
Billy belongs to is mostly made up of Camport boys. I've half a mind
to join myself as soon as they get back."
"That might not be a half bad idea," said Frank. "Although my own
thought was that as soon as the President called for troops I'd join
the regular army at once. But it's as broad as it is long, for, as you
say, the first thing the Government is likely to do is to make regulars
of the national guard. And it won't be a bad thing either, for they've
had lots of drilling and will be a heap better at the start than raw
recruits who don't know the first thing about a gun."
"This experience the boys have had on the border hasn't done them any
harm either," replied Bart. "Of course most of them haven't had any
fighting to do, but they've had to be prepared to fight and the outdoor
life has made them tough and strong. Billy says you'll hardly know the
boys for the same fellows when they get back."
"Oh they're a lot of heroes--I don't think," sneered Nick Rabig, who
was working near by and had heard part of the conversation.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Frank indignantly.
"Just what I say," retorted Rabig. "They went down to Mexico to catch
Villa, didn't they? Well, why didn't they do it?"
"They would if they had stayed long enough," replied Bart. "The
Government called them back."
"Sure the Government called them back," said Rabig with a sardonic
grin. "It got cold feet. It saw that Mexico wasn't going to back
down, and so it backed down itself. Now if Germany had started out to
catch Villa, it would have caught him."
"Now cut that out, Rabig," said Frank sharply. "If the President
called the soldiers back, he had good reason for doing it. He knows a
good deal more about what is going on than the rest of us do. He
probably knew that Germany would like nothing better than to see us get
mixed up in a row with Mexico and have to keep our troops on this side
of the water instead of sending them over to Europe. He wasn't going
to play Germany's game, and that's the reason he let up on Villa, who
doesn't amount to anything anyway."
"That sounds good," returned Rabig, "but it doesn't go with me. The
Americans got scared when they saw that the Mexicans meant business.
Swell chance the United States would have with Germany when it can't
even lick Mexico. These national guard fellows aren't fighters.
They're only tin soldiers anyway."
"Tell that to Billy Waldon when he gets back and he'll make you eat
your words," said Bart hotly.
"He will, eh?" retorted Rabig. "Just let him try it on, that's all."
"What are you anyway, Rabig, a German or an American?" demanded Frank.
"I was born here and I suppose I'm an American," responded Rabig. "But
I couldn't help that and I'm not proud of it."
"And you can bet that America isn't proud of having you born here,"
said Frank scornfully. "I tell you straight, Rabig, that it won't be
healthy for you to keep up that line of talk much longer."
"I don't see any one here that's going to make me stop it," sneered the
bully. "Perhaps you'd like to try it."
Frank's eyes flashed and his fist clenched until the knuckles were
white. Another instant and that fist would have wiped the sneer from
Rabig's face. But the image of his mother rose before him, and by a
mighty effort he controlled himself.
"You'll make that bluff once too often some day, Rabig," he said in an
even tone.
"Well, if it's a bluff why don't you call it?" sneered Rabig
truculently.
Just at this moment Reddy ran up to them, considerably excited.
"Mr. Sheldon!" he exclaimed, addressing himself to Frank, "Oliver Twist
has climbed up the water pipe at the end of the building and now the
pipe's broke and he can't get down."
Oliver Twist was the office cat, who had gained his name because, like
the hero in Dickens' famous story, he was continually "asking for
more." He was a favorite with all except Rabig, who kicked at him
whenever he got in his way. So that the news of his plight aroused
instant interest and sympathy, and all flocked to the window that Reddy
indicated.
There was Oliver, sure enough, a thoroughly frightened cat, and with
good reason.
The building was five stories high and a leader pipe ran at one end of
it from the top nearly to the ground. There was a sparrow's nest up
near the eaves, and Oliver had evidently been tempted to make it a
visit. But a section of the pipe about two-thirds of the way up had
rotted and under the cat's weight had broken off. Oliver with a cat's
quickness had saved himself by clutching at a metal ring that encircled
the pipe just above the broken part and had swung himself up out of
immediate danger.
But although safe for the moment, he had no way of escape. He was more
than three stories from the ground and if he let go would be killed or
maimed. If he climbed farther up he would be no better off, for the
projecting roof of the building made it impossible to leap to it.
Oliver was in a bad fix, and his piteous mews as he clung to the pipe
showed that he realized it. All his nine lives were in imminent
danger. It would not have been so bad if he had had a ledge or
projection to rest on until he could be rescued. But this was lacking,
with the exception of the narrow ring less than an inch wide that
encircled the pipe, and though his claws dug desperately against this
it was certain that his strength would not enable him to maintain
himself long in this position.
There was a chorus of exclamations and suggestions from the young men
who crowded the window.
"Let's get a rope and a basket and let it down from the roof,"
suggested Tom Bradford.
"That wouldn't do," objected Hal. "He'd be too frightened to get into
it. He wouldn't let go his grip on the pipe."
"Somebody get a ladder," cried Reddy.
"We haven't one that would be long enough to reach him," said Bart.
Frank's keen eyes and alert mind had been judging the situation. Now
he spoke.
"We can get him from that window, fellows," he said pointing to a
window about six feet above the cat and a little to one side.
"I don't know," said Bart, dubiously, as he eyed the window. "Seems to
me like a forlorn hope. A fellow would have to have the arms of a
gorilla to reach the cat from there."
"Never mind about that," responded Frank. "Let's get up there quick
and I'll show you what I have in mind."
The crowd raced pell-mell up the stairs and then through an old
storeroom on the upper floor until they reached the window.
It had not been opened all winter, and had been so warped by sleet and
snow that it yielded to the pressure of their arms groaningly and
reluctantly. But at last, just when they were about ready to give up,
they accomplished the feat and looked out.
Oliver saw them and hailed them evidently as his last hope, for he
broke into a storm of wails.
"There," said Bart, regretfully. "I told you we'd be too far off to do
him any good."
He leaned out as far as he could without danger of falling, and the cat
was still three feet at least from the tips of his outstretched fingers.
"Nothing doing," he ejaculated as he withdrew from his vain effort.
"There's just one chance," said Frank. "One of us fellows will have to
hang out there head downward, his full length, while the rest grab him
by the legs and hold on for dear life."
"That sounds easy if you say it quick," cut in Reddy. "But who's going
to be the goat?"
"I am," said Frank, as he threw off his coat.
"Oh come now, Frank!" expostulated Tom. "That's taking too big a risk.
I hate to see the poor brute go down, but his life isn't worth yours."
"Besides," put in Bart, "even if you got hold of Oliver he'd probably
be so frightened that he'd claw your head off."
"Cut out the talk, fellows," said Frank. "Bart, you and Tom hold on to
one leg while Reddy and Hal grab the other."
Two others of the group, Will Baxter and Dick Ormsby, joined the
quartette of helpers, although with considerable inward quaking, for
they felt that if anything happened to their comrade they would be in
part responsible for not having forcibly detained him from such a risky
undertaking.
A moment more and Frank had lowered himself outside of the sill and
hung at full length, while three strong pairs of arms clutched at each
leg. He found himself on a level with the cat but too far to one side
to reach him with his extended hand.
"Start swinging, fellows!" he called out, "until I'm able to reach him."
They swayed him gently to and fro, each time bringing him a few inches
nearer to the cat, whose strength was rapidly giving way and who seemed
to be slipping.
Frank made one grab and missed. His next attempt, however, was more
fortunate. He gripped the cat by the neck and shoulders, gave a wrench
and pulled him away from the pipe.
The frightened brute, seeing only open space below him, writhed and
twisted about frantically, but Frank held him tight despite his
clawings, and in another moment the six above had pulled him up to and
over the sill, where he dropped on the floor, panting and breathless.
Oliver, released, flew round and round the room, until his excitement
subsided and he curled up in a corner, his sides heaving, and his eyes
still big and wild from the fright of his late experience.
"And the cat came back!" chanted Reddy.
"The main thing is that Frank came back," said Bart. "I tell you what,
old boy, that was a nervy thing to do."
"There isn't another fellow in the place who would have done it," said
Hal. "My heart was in my mouth while he was swinging there head down.
Once I was so scared I almost let go."
"It's lucky for everybody but the undertaker that you didn't," said
Frank with a grin, as he dusted his clothes and arranged his collar and
tie. "I don't mind admitting myself that the ground looked awful far
away while I was swinging there."
"You're in luck to come out of it with a good pair of eyes," said Bart.
"If Oliver's claws had once got to them there would have been something
doing."
"Well now let's get back downstairs," said Frank, leading the way,
while Reddy brought up the rear with the recovered and somewhat
chastened Oliver perched upon his shoulder.
It would be safe to say that for some time to come sparrows' nests,
especially if located near leader pipes, would have no further
attractions. For once Oliver Twist would not ask for more!