THE FOUR-FOOTED ENEMY
"The first thing to do is to make a barricade of these barrels," said
Frank, when the four privates had made an inventory of what the cellar
afforded in the way of defense.
"They will help us in putting up a fight if the Huns discover us here,"
agreed Bart.
"Let's see if there's anything in them," suggested Billy.
"Swell chance," commented Tom. "They smell as if they'd had wine or beer
in them, and you can trust the Heinies to have drained them to the last
drop. Not that I want any of the stuff, but if they were full they'd
stop a bullet better than if they were empty."
They tested the barrels by knocking against them with the butts of their
rifles and the hollow sound they gave back proved that Tom had
conjectured truly.
"Dry as the Desert of Sahara," pronounced Frank.
"And that reminds me," said Bart. "What are we going to do for water to
drink? We've got grub enough in our kits to last us a couple of days in
a pinch. But we can't hold out long without something to wash it down
with."
"We won't worry about that yet," said Frank. "I stepped into a puddle
over in one corner while we were going round here. I suppose that came
from the rain we had last night. It doesn't fit my idea of what drinking
water ought to be, but it's a mighty sight better than dying of thirst."
They got out their stock of food and decided that with careful rationing
they had enough for two days.
"And that will be plenty," prophesied Billy. "Our fellows will be here
before long. Perhaps this very night we'll be with the old bunch again."
"I wish I had your cheery disposition," growled Tom. "When any one hands
you a lemon----"
"I make lemonade out of it," came back Billy, and there was a general
laugh.
"That's the way to talk," said Frank. "The Huns haven't got us yet, and
even this hole is better than a German prison camp."
"You bet!" responded Billy. "From all I hear those places are something
fierce. A fellow had better die fighting than die of abuse or
starvation."
"That's what," agreed Bart. "And that's another thing that shows how low
the Huns have stooped in this war. Look at the way we treat them when we
take them prisoners. They live on the fat of the land. Of course the
Germans haven't as much food in their country as we have, and we don't
expect so much for our men in the matter of grub, although even at that
they don't get enough to keep body and soul together. But it's sickening
to hear of the way they torture them. One of their favorite sports is to
set dogs on 'em. If a man doesn't move quickly enough to suit 'em they
stick a bayonet into him. It's low beastly tyranny that puts them on a
level with the Turks. It's no wonder that Germany is coming to be hated
and despised by the whole world."
"Did you hear of the fire that happened in one of their camps?" queried
Tom. "There was a hut in one corner of the camp with five men in it. It
caught fire and the men, who couldn't get out of the door because it was
locked, tried to get out of the window. The sentry thrust his bayonet
into the first man, and threw him back into the flames. The poor fellow
made another attempt and again the sentry ran the bayonet into him. And
every one of the five men burned to death, though every one of them
could have been saved. What do you think of that, fellows? Isn't it the
limit?"
"They'll get theirs," said Frank bitterly. "They can't sow the wind
without reaping the whirlwind. They'll surely pay, soon or late, for
every bit of this brutality.
"I hope it will be soon," said Billy. "I'm getting impatient."
"It won't be long if we can keep up the pace we set this morning," said
Bart. "Gee, how our tanks went through those wires as though they were
rotten cord."
"And our guns are keeping it up," said Frank. "Just listen to that roar.
What a shame it is we can't be out there doing our bit. It makes me feel
like a slacker."
"It's the fortune of war," said Billy philosophically. "But it's might
hard luck just the same that we took the wrong direction after we
cleared up that machine gun nest so neatly. But let's have a hack at
that grub, fellows. Oh, boy, if we only had some of that stew we lost
this morning!"
"That stew still sticks in Billy's crop," laughed Frank.
"I only wish it did," mourned Billy. "But it never got that far."
"Well, just remember, fellows, that we're on rations now," warned Frank
as he doled out a little portion to each from the common stock they had
pooled together. "We've got to make this last as long as we can. If we
feel hungry when we get through we'll just have to tighten our belts and
let it go at that."
They ate sparingly, but, although they were all thirsty, especially
after the heat and excitement of the fighting, it was a long time before
they could bring themselves to drink from the pool in the corner of the
cellar. They finally had to come to it, however, though they tried to
make it less repugnant by filtering it through the only clean
handkerchief they could muster among them.
The time dragged on interminably in their narrow quarters. They tried to
sleep, but though they were very tired after their strenuous day, the
novelty and discomfort of their position kept them on edge.
The daylight finally vanished from the little opening in the floor above
and the darkness became absolute. They had matches in their kits, but
they feared to use them lest some prowling sentry might see the light
through some rift in the masonry.
The roar of the heavy artillery had died down, though the guns still
gave out an occasional challenge. The fighting for the day was evidently
at an end. But there had been no clash in the streets of the ruined town
to betoken the arrival of the Allied forces. However they might have
fared in other parts of the battlefield, the town itself had not been
wrested from the Germans. In all probability the boys were still in the
midst of their enemies.
"Another night as well as a day to stay in this shebang," remarked Tom
when the hope of immediate rescue had failed them.
"Oh, well, to-morrow's a new day," said Frank. "A lot may happen between
now and to-morrow night. Our grub will hold out till then anyway, and if
nothing better turns up we'll make a dash and try to reach our lines."
He had scarcely stopped speaking when there was a loud clattering in the
street as though a cavalry troop were passing through.
"Perhaps those are our men now!" exclaimed Billy jubilantly.
"Perhaps," assented Frank. "And they seem to be coming this way."
The pace of the horses died down as they neared the house, and they
finally stopped just before it. The boys could hear the troopers
dismount and a moment later they heard footsteps on the floor above.
They listened intently. Would the first words they heard be English or
German? If the first it would mean a boisterous shout to the men above
and a hasty and joyful scramble out of their prison. If the second, it
would mean that they were in imminent danger of capture or death.
A light filtered down through the hole where the stovepipe had been.
Somebody above had struck a match. But he had evidently burned his
fingers as he did so, for the light went out and there was an impatient
exclamation.
"_Donnerwetter_!"
Just one word, but it made the hearts of the listening boys go down into
their boots.
For it was a German who just then struck a second match and lighted a
candle, and it was a German cavalry troop whose horses stood before the
door.
But for what purpose had they entered the house? Were they in search of
the boys? Had any one seen them entering the house and given
information?
"Be ready, fellows," whispered Frank. "It looks as if we were in for a
scrap."
They clutched their rifles firmly to be ready for whatever might happen.
But it was not long before they realized that this sudden irruption had
nothing to do with them. What seemed to be a bench or a table was
dragged across the floor and one or more candles placed upon it. There
seemed to be half a dozen or more officers in the room, and they were
soon engaged in an earnest conversation.
"I never thought much of the German language," whispered Bart to Billy,
"but I'd give a farm to understand it now."
"If Frank only knew German as well as he does French," responded Billy,
"we might pick up something that our officers would give a lot to know."
For perhaps half an hour the raucous tones above continued. The debate
was at times an angry one and was punctuated by the sound of fists
brought heavily down on a table. Just after one of these, the stovepipe
hole was dimmed by something that shut off the light from the room
above. It floated down with a slight rustle and the boys could see that
it was a paper of some kind.
In an instant Frank had crept across and grabbed the paper, thrusting it
into the bosom of his shirt. Then he moved swiftly back to the shelter
of the barricade.
"That was taking a chance, old boy," whispered Bart, as his friend
resumed his place among them. "If you'd knocked against anything and the
Huns had heard you, they'd have been down here in a jiffy."
"I suppose it was a little risky," returned Frank, "but we've got to
take risks sometimes, and it struck me that there might be something in
that paper that our officers would like to know."
Just then Billy, in trying to get in a less cramped position, knocked
against one of the rifles that had been stood in a corner. It fell
against one of the barrels with a clatter that in the confined place and
the tense state of the boys' nerves sounded to them like thunder.
Frank grabbed it before it could fall on the cellar floor, but it seemed
as though the mischief must have been done, and their hearts were in
their mouths as they listened for anything that might indicate that the
sound had been heard on the floor above.
But the debate had reached a lively stage just at that moment, and the
incident attracted no attention, so that after two minutes more of
strained listening the boys were assured that they had come off scot
free from what might have been a disaster.
"This is sure no place for a man with heart disease," murmured Tom, and
his comrades unanimously agreed with him.
The conference in the room above had come to an end, as was shown by the
shuffling of feet as the men rose from the table. There was a sound as
of a sheaf of papers being hastily gathered together. But there was no
outcry to indicate that any one of them was missing, and the boys drew a
long breath and relaxed their grasp on their rifles. There would be no
search, and for the moment they were safe.
The lights above were extinguished and the party went out. The horses
clattered away, and once more the house and the town were as still as
the grave.
"So near and yet so far," murmured Frank, when he was sure that the last
of the unwelcome visitors had departed.
"That was what you might call too close for comfort," grinned Billy.
"They wouldn't have done a thing to us if they had nabbed us," declared
Bart. "We wouldn't have had a Chinaman's chance. No prison camp for
ours! They'd have shot us down like dogs! They'd have reasoned that we
had heard their military plans, and that would have been all the excuse
they wanted."
"Not that they would care whether they had the excuse or not," said
Billy. "The mere fact that a German wants to do anything makes it all
right to do it."
"How they'd froth at the mouth if they knew Frank had that paper,"
remarked Tom. "I wonder what it is."
"It has a seal on it and it feels as if it were heavy and official,"
replied Frank. "I don't want to strike a match now, but I'll take a
squint at it when daylight comes. Probably it's in German, and if it is
I can't read it. But they'll read it at headquarters all right, and it
may queer some of Heinie's plans."
They conversed in whispers a little while longer, and then made ready to
go to sleep. Their preparations were not extensive, and consisted
chiefly in finding a place where no sharp edge of stone bored into the
small of their backs. But they were too tired to be critical, and after
putting away the food in a corner and arranging to stand watch turn and
turn about they soon forgot their troubles in sleep.
When they awoke the light shining through the hole in the floor told
them that it was day.
"Time you fellows opened your eyes," remarked Tom, who had been standing
the last watch. "If you hadn't I'd have booted you awake anyway, for you
were snoring loud enough to bring the whole German army down on you."
"I'd hate to call you an out and out prevaricator, Tom," remarked Billy,
rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his tumbled hair, "so
I'll simply say that you use the truth with great economy. Suppose you
bring me my breakfast. I think I'll eat it in bed this morning."
He dodged the shoe that Tom threw at his head and rose laughingly to his
feet.
"Mighty bad manners the people have at this hotel," he remarked, "but
since you feel that way about it I'll take my grub any way I can get it.
Haul it out from that corner, Bart, and let's have a hack at it. I'm
hungry enough to eat nails this morning."
Bart needed no second request, for he was quite as hungry as his mates.
But when he picked up the canvas wrapper in which the food had been
stored he dropped it with a startled exclamation.
"What's the matter?" cried Frank.
"Matter enough," replied Bart. "The bag's empty. There isn't a blessed
thing in it."
The others rushed him under the light that came from above and examined
the wrapper with sinking hearts. What Bart had said was true. Not a
crumb was left.
There was no mystery about it. The gnawed and tattered holes in the bag
told their own story. It was summed up in the one word that came from
their lips simultaneously. "Rats!"
Their four-footed enemies had perhaps brought them nearer capture than
their human enemies had been able to do.