A GHASTLY BURDEN
The sergeant of the guard came running up quickly, followed by two other
officers of higher rank, and a hurried inquiry took place on the spot.
Rabig had been lifted to his feet from where he had been lying, and
stood supported by two comrades. Blood was running down his face from a
wound in his head. He seemed weak and dazed, although a surgeon who had
been hastily summoned pronounced the wound not dangerous. He seemed to
have been dealt a glancing blow, and, as in the case of all scalp
wounds, the blood had flowed freely.
"Bring a seat for him," commanded the lieutenant in charge, and the
order was promptly obeyed.
"Now, Rabig," proceeded the officer, not unkindly, "tell me about this.
How did you come to lose your prisoner?"
Rabig looked about him in a helpless sort of way.
"I don't know," he mumbled. "My head is swimming so that I can't
remember."
"Try to think," said the officer patiently. Rabig seemed to make an
effort, but did not succeed and fell back in a swoon that put an end for
the present to the questioning.
"Who saw anything of this?" queried the lieutenant, looking about him.
"Does any one know in what direction the prisoner went?"
"If you please, sir," said one of the sentries who had been guarding an
adjacent hut, "I saw a man jump on a horse and go through the woods
there, but it was getting dark and I didn't know but what it might be
one of our own men. But I ran up here and found Rabig lying on the
ground, and the door of the hut was open. I sent a shot after the man on
horseback and so did some of the other men, but we couldn't take aim and
I don't know whether we hit him or not."
"Look alive there," commanded the officer. "Sergeant, take a squad of
men and beat up these woods. The fellow may be hiding there. Take him
dead or alive."
"Yes, sir," replied the sergeant, saluting.
The soldiers standing by were hastily sent into the woods and others
were summoned to join them. The prisoner had got a good start, but by
this time the field telephones were busy all along the line and his
chance of ultimate escape was by no means bright. But he was a powerful
and desperate man, and if he had any weapons at all he would probably
make his capture a costly one.
"He'll reason that he's a dead man if we get him and he might as well
die fighting," remarked Frank, as with his comrades he picked his way
through the woods.
"Righto," agreed Tom. "And even if he didn't have a weapon when he
escaped, there are lots of them lying around and he won't have any
trouble in picking one up."
"I wonder if he'll stick to the horse," mused Bart.
"I hardly think so," replied Billy. "He knows from the shots that were
sent after him that we know he used a horse in escaping and will be
looking for a man on horseback. So he'll try to deceive us by going on
foot."
"He'll probably hang about in the woods until it's pitch dark and then
try to get through the lines," said Frank. "He may be behind any tree or
bush, and we want to be mighty careful to examine each one as we go past
it."
"Maybe he'll climb a tree," suggested Tom, looking up to the branches of
one he happened to be under at the moment.
"Not a chance at this time of the year," objected Billy. "There aren't
any leaves to hide him, and even in the darkness we could probably see
his outline against the sky. Then, too, if he were seen he could be
potted too easily. No, he's not up a tree."
"Queer that he should have got away so soon after we'd been down to the
hut," remarked Frank.
"Queer!" snorted Tom. "It isn't queer at all to my way of thinking. The
whole thing was cut and dried."
"Then you think that Rabig was in cahoots with him?" asked Bart
dubiously.
"I'm sure of it," responded Tom. "Use your common sense, fellows. We see
half a dozen suspicious things that look as if Rabig and the prisoner
had some understanding. A little while after the prisoner escapes.
What's the answer?"
"The answer might be several things," replied Frank, who hated to
believe evil of even his worst enemy. "A lot of things are due to
coincidence. It may be perfectly true that Rabig was in sympathy with
the German, but that doesn't say that he'd go so far as to let him
actually escape. He was taking big chances with his own skin in doing
it."
"Besides, there's no doubt that Rabig was wounded," remarked Bart. "That
fellow seems to have given him an awful knock. He was bleeding like
fury."
"Oh, it was easy enough to arrange that," answered Tom, unconvinced. "It
would have been too raw to have Rabig let the fellow go and still be
safe and sound. How could he explain it? He'd be brought up for
court-martial. But a scalp wound could be easily made where it would
produce the most blood and do the least harm."
"But what object would Rabig have in taking such chances?" asked Billy.
"The fellow had been searched and couldn't have had any money with him."
"No, but he could have promised plenty," argued Tom. "Perhaps he's told
Rabig that the grateful Kaiser would make him rich. How do we know that
Rabig wouldn't fall for that? He's got an ivory dome anyway. If there
were more than two ideas in his head at one time they'd be arrested for
unlawful assemblage."
The boys laughed and Tom went on:
"Besides, how do we know but what Rabig is planning to desert and wants
to pave the way for a warm welcome on the other side? It would be easy
enough to slip across while the lines are so near each other."
"But Rabig seemed to be pretty badly hurt," said Billy. "You saw him
faint."
"Which only proves that he is a good actor," retorted Tom dryly. "Don't
think me hardhearted, fellows, because I'm not. I'm always ready to give
everybody his due. But I feel sure down in my heart that this thing was
all fixed up beforehand, and some day you'll find that I'm right."
For more than two hours they kept up the search without result, and the
fact that they had not had their supper was forced upon them with
growing insistency.
"Isn't there any time limit to this?" grumbled Bart. "I'll be hunting
for acorns instead of a prisoner before long."
"I've got a vacuum where my stomach ought to be," moaned Billy. "Gee,
wouldn't I like to be streaking it for the mess room."
"Cork up, you fellows," commanded Frank. "Listen! I thought I heard
something just then."
The talking ceased instantly, and all stood as rigid as statues.
"It's a horse coming this way," whispered Frank, after a moment of
strained attention. "Quick, fellows, get behind these bushes and have
your rifles ready!"
They crouched low and peered up a little glade that ran through the
forest.
But the noise ceased as suddenly as it had begun and they began to think
that their comrade had been mistaken.
"Guess Frank's been stringing us," chaffed Billy.
"He's the only one who seems to have heard anything," said Tom.
"Don't you worry about my hearing," said Frank. "I tell you I heard a
horse's hoofs. Perhaps the rider suspects something and is trying to get
a line on us, just as we're trying to get one on him."
"It may have been a horse all right," said Billy, "but that doesn't say
he had any rider. He may be rambling around all by his lonesome, and
perhaps he's stopped to graze somewhere."
"There he goes again!" exclaimed Frank, and this time every one of them
heard what was undeniably the thud of a horse's hoofs.
But there was a hesitation, an uncertainty about the animal's movements
that seemed unusual. It moved as though it had no purpose in view no
guiding hand on the reins. At times the canter seemed to subside into a
walk. There was something about this unseen steed, at large in the dim
forest, that gave the boys a most uncomfortable feeling.
Then suddenly a more resolute note in the sound and an increase in its
volume told the listening boys that the horse was coming straight toward
them.
The clatter of hoofs drew nearer, and they clutched their guns more
tightly.
Soon they were able to distinguish in the gloom the outline of a horse
and rider. The man's figure loomed up huge and threatening, and they
felt sure that it was the big German corporal for whom they were
searching.
The boys waited until the horse was almost upon them and then rushed out
into the road.
"Halt!" cried Frank. He seized the horse's rein while the others leveled
their rifles at the rider.
The horse reared in fright, but the rider made no answer nor did he
attempt to draw a weapon.
"Get down!" commanded Frank. "We've got you covered. Surrender."
Still the rider remained silent.
Frank having quieted the horse went alongside and put his hand on the
man's arm.
"Come----" he began, then stopped suddenly.
There was a moment of utter silence, and Frank for the first time in his
life could feel the hair rising on his head. Then he controlled himself.
"Put up your rifles boys," he commanded. "The man is dead!"