THE STRUGGLE IN THE CAPTAIN’S ROOM
Blake took the first opportunity of questioning the German soldier
with whom he had struck up an acquaintance, and learned, to his great
delight, that the German officer, Captain Petz, did indeed have with
him several small, round boxes, which Blake had little doubt contained
the films, although on this point the soldier could tell him little.
Moreover, Blake was afraid to question him too closely, for fear of
arousing his suspicions. But he had learned enough to satisfy him. He
related jubilantly to Joe all that he had learned.
“And now,” he concluded, “if we can only make a get-away with those
films, our being captured will turn out to have been a blessing in
disguise.”
“Right you are,” agreed Joe enthusiastically. “But I wonder how our
sentry friend knew that this Captain Petz had the films?”
“Oh, it seems he had heard the noble captain boasting about it to some
of his friends, and also making the statement that ‘the Yankee pigs
will never get them now.’ So it looks to me as though it were up to us
to give the distinguished captain the jolt of his young life.”
“Wonder how long he is going to be here?” speculated Joe. “We’ll have
to act quickly, or he’ll be gone, and the films with him.”
“That’s exactly the point,” said Blake. “He is going to-morrow some
time, and expects to take the films with him and turn them in at
headquarters.”
“Great Scott!” ejaculated Joe, “that doesn’t leave us much time, does
it?”
“That’s the worst of it,” admitted Blake, with an anxious frown. “It’s
all very well for us to talk about getting away, and taking the films
with us. But the big question is: how are we going to do it? My mind
seems entirely empty of useful ideas. See if you can suggest anything.”
“The only thing I can think of to do,” said Joe slowly, “is to wait
until after dark to-night, and then see if we can’t get past the guards
and into the house. Once in, we’ll have to locate the captain’s room,
and get hold of the films, and then take our chance of getting past the
guards around the farm. I know it sounds pretty desperate, but I don’t
see what else we can do.”
“Desperate is the word, all right,” said Blake, with a wry grin, “but
if we’re ever to get away from this place, we’ve got to take big
chances, and we might as well do it to-night as some other time, I
suppose.”
In preparation for escape, the moving picture boys had already laid by
a secret supply of food, and Blake had managed to secure a rough map of
the surrounding country, so they were not entirely without resources.
They planned to elude the sentries if possible, but, in the event of
being challenged, to attack and overpower the man before he could give
the alarm. After much discussion, they decided to make their attempt as
soon as the inmates of the house had retired for the night, which was
usually between ten and eleven o’clock.
By the time they had reached this conclusion, the boys were keyed up
to a pitch of excitement that boded ill for those who might attempt to
stand between them and liberty. They were resolved to get back to their
own people, and, if possible, take the precious films with them.
After supper had been eaten, they were marched back to the barn where
they were quartered. Of course, neither one thought of going to sleep.
They were both keenly on the alert, and were impatient for the fateful
time to come. The intervening hours dragged by interminably, but at
last they heard the clocks strike ten, and knew that the time for their
attempt was close at hand. They waited for what they judged was a
half hour more, and then, at a whisper from Blake, slipped softly from
their rough beds. There was always a sentry posted at the door, but
the boys had no intention of going out by such an obvious route. They
had discovered a small skylight in the roof of the barn, and they now
climbed noiselessly up the ladder leading to the upper story of the
structure.
Everywhere was pitch blackness, but they had studied their ground well
and had little difficulty in finding their way now. They soon found
themselves at the skylight, which showed a lighter blur against the
black expanse of the barn roof. The skylight was only fastened by a
hook, it apparently never having occurred to their captors that the
prisoners might avail themselves of this route of escape.
But at any rate, the two Americans soon found themselves outside,
clinging precariously to the steeply sloping roof. They hung on with
toes and fingers, and slowly worked their way down to the edge. From
there it was a drop of almost twenty feet to the ground, but the boys
knew they were in a desperate situation, and were not in a mood to
hesitate at anything. Blake dropped first, and Joe was afraid that the
dull thud of his landing would alarm the sentry. But fortunately it did
not, and soon Joe, breathless and somewhat shaken, was standing safely
beside his friend.
“So far, so good,” whispered Blake, “and now for the house.”
The boys were just on the point of starting for the farmhouse, when a
sudden tumult in the building caused them to start back. Lights blazed
up at several of the windows, and the boys could faintly hear the hum
of voices.
“What in the world do you suppose is the matter now?” whispered Joe.
“I haven’t the least idea,” responded Blake. “But about all we can do
is lie low and see what happens.”
The two friends crouched down in the deep shadow cast by the barn,
and before long, through the silent night air, heard the sound of an
automobile approaching at high speed.
“We’ve got to find out what’s happening, that’s all there is to it,”
muttered Blake. “Let’s creep around to the front of the house, Joe, and
see what we can find out. If we keep close in the shadows, I think we
can make it without being seen.”
With hearts beating with suppressed excitement, the boys stole past the
sheltering side of the barn, and crept cautiously toward the house.
They knew that detection would mean certain death, and advanced as
cautiously and with as little noise as two cats. They escaped detection
while crossing the space between the house and the barn, and soon had
worked themselves around to the front of the farmhouse. They arrived
there just in time to see a big automobile draw up in front, and a man,
carrying a small handbag, and evidently a doctor, descend from it.
“That’s what all the excitement’s about,” whispered Blake to Joe,
“there’s somebody sick in the house, and that doctor has just answered
a hurry-up call.”
“Looks that way,” admitted Joe. “But whatever it is, it looks as though
it had put a crimp in our schemes. How are we going to do anything when
everybody is up and about?”
“On the contrary,” said Blake, who had been doing some rapid thinking,
“it may be a help instead of a hindrance. Everybody will be so excited
over this that we may be able to get what we’re after in the general
confusion, and then make our escape.”
“Possibly,” whispered Joe doubtfully. “How shall we go about it?”
“Come with me,” said Blake briefly.
He had noticed that when the doctor had been admitted to the house, the
servant had forgotten to close the front door, which now stood slightly
ajar. The front porch of the house was thickly covered with interlacing
vines, and thrusting these aside, the boys climbed over the railing and
found themselves for the moment well screened from observation. Without
any further hesitation, they made for the door, Blake slightly in the
lead. They had now gone too far to draw back, and Blake boldly slipped
inside, followed closely by Joe.
The boys found themselves in a dimly lighted hall, and as a first
precaution Blake blew out the lamp that furnished the light. Standing
in the darkness, and hardly daring to breathe, the boys could hear
muffled voices overhead, and guessed that they proceeded from the room
where the sick person lay. They had only a rough idea of where Captain
Petz’ room was, gleaned by Blake from the friendly sentry.
They knew, however, that it was on the upper floor, and so began to
mount the stairs, pausing to listen at every step. Once or twice loose
boards creaked alarmingly, but, as Blake had said, the household was so
upset that their chances of success were greater than if it had been
plunged in slumber.
It did not take the youths long to reach the head of the stairs, but
there they paused. At the head was an old-fashioned, marble-topped
table, and on this table stood a small bottle marked in German
“_Chloroform_.”
“No telling when that might come in handy,” thought Blake, and slipped
the bottle into his pocket.
The boys now saw that the sick room was the first one that opened into
the hallway, which ran almost the entire length of the upper story. If
Blake’s information was correct, the captain’s room lay at the other
end of the hall, which meant that the boys would have to pass the sick
room, the door of which was partly open, allowing a broad beam of light
to escape. The boys thus saw that they would have to pass this luminous
path to reach the captain’s room, but, as there was nothing else to be
done unless they gave up their venture altogether, they walked quickly
but quietly past the open door.
They had hardly reached the comparative obscurity beyond, when someone,
apparently a servant, rushed out, but fortunately, turned away from
the boys, and hurried to the little table. After a hurried search,
he muttered a German imprecation, and the boys knew that he must be
looking for the bottle of chloroform. They also knew, that when he did
not find it, he would in all probability return to the sick room, and
in doing so would be almost certain to see them.
“Quick, into the captain’s room!” whispered Blake.
Of course, neither of the boys knew but that the captain and possibly
some of his friends, too, might be in the room, but Blake had swiftly
weighed the chances, and had decided to risk an encounter with the
German officer, rather than almost certain detection if he and his
friend remained in the hallway. Accordingly, he turned the knob, and
pushed the door, which by good fortune proved to be unlocked, inward.
The two boys slipped in, and quickly closed and locked the door behind
them.
But now the good fortune that had seemed to accompany them so far,
appeared to have deserted them. For at a large mirror stood the German
captain, Petz, and as he heard the soft closing of the door, he whirled
with a startled exclamation. Both boys realized that they must act
quickly, or in another moment all would be lost. Quick as an attacking
tiger, Blake was across the room, and before the German could gather
his wits together sufficiently to cry out and give the alarm, he found
his throat caught in a grasp of steel. He attempted to struggle, but
quick as a flash Joe had pinioned his arms.
For a brief space the three swayed back and forth, for the German was
a large and powerful man, and if he had not been taken so entirely
by surprise, could have offered a formidable resistance. With those
merciless fingers at his throat, however, his strength ebbed quickly
away, and suddenly he grew limp, and slumped to the floor.
“Tie him up and gag him,” panted Blake. “I suppose we ought to kill
him, but I can’t do for a man in cold blood. We can rip up a couple of
sheets and make them do to tie him up.”
This was no sooner said than done, and when consciousness began to
return to Petz, he found himself securely bound and gagged.
Meanwhile, the boys had started a thorough search of the room, hoping
to find their stolen films. But, although they hunted high and low,
they could find no trace of them.
“Worst luck ever!” murmured Joe.
“Guess we’ll have to question this Boche,” said Blake, “and if he won’t
talk, we’ll see if we can’t persuade him with his own revolver, which I
see lying on the bureau.”
The pinioned officer had been following them with his eyes, and his
face was contorted into an expression of sneering disdain. Seeing this,
Blake’s eyes hardened, and he strode quickly to the dresser and, having
secured the heavy weapon, bent over the German.
“There’s paper and a fountain pen on that desk yonder,” said Blake to
Joe. “Write on it that we want to know where the films are, and that if
he doesn’t tell us mighty quick there will be a quick end to the career
of Captain Petz, of the Imperial Army.”
Joe hastily scribbled this message on a sheet of paper, and held it
where the German could read it. At the same time, Blake pressed the
cold muzzle of the revolver against Petz’ head.
But the German, who was not without a certain brute courage, only
looked at his captors with sneering malicious eyes.
“Untie one of his hands, Joe,” directed Blake, “so that he can write an
answer.”
Joe did so, and the officer took the pen that was offered him, and
in angular German script, wrote: “The films that you want have been
removed to a safe place, and I will not tell you where. You can kill me
if you like, but that will not give you your pictures.”
“The worst of it is, he knows we won’t kill him, being Americans and
not Huns,” said Blake. “If the conditions were reversed he’d wipe us
out without compunction, and he no doubt thinks we’re weak for not
finishing him off, but he knows he can count on it just the same.”
Blake had hardly finished speaking, when there came an imperative rap
on the door, and a voice said in German:
“Herr Captain, let me in! I have something to tell you of the utmost
importance.”
The speaker rattled the door impatiently, and the startled boys looked
at each other, each with the same question in his eyes. What was to be
done now?
“What is the matter?” the voice outside asked, a note of anxiety and
suspicion replacing that of impatience. “Is anything wrong? Speak
quickly, or I shall break the door down. Hans! Otto!” calling to two
of the servants, “come here, immediately.”
“We’ve got to get out of this!” whispered Blake, “and the only way is
out the window. Come along, Joe, but don’t make any noise.”
The two moving picture boys stepped swiftly to the windows, which gave
on the roof of the porch. Noiselessly they opened one sash, and in less
time than it takes to tell, were out on the sloping roof.
“Over we go, Joe,” said Blake, in a tense whisper. “It isn’t much of a
drop, and we haven’t any choice, anyhow.”
The two boys dropped almost at the same moment, landing noiselessly in
a soft flower bed. From the room that they had just quitted they could
hear the sound of blows, and knew that the threat to break down the
door was being carried into execution.
The boys picked themselves up, and ran swiftly but silently for the
road. The chance of getting the films back was gone, but the two
Americans still hoped to make good their escape.