OFF TO CRIPPLE CREEK
Jack and Tom Binns waited only to see the surrender of Hardport before
Jack turned the car about and made for Bremerton, taking the direct road
this time, since the advance of General Bean and his division of the Red
army had swept aside all danger from the invading Blue forces. The
outposts, of course, which Jack had had to dodge as he scouted in
advance of the Red advance guard, had all been driven back upon
Hardport, and they were prisoners of war now, and the way was clear for
the day, at least.
Captain Durland listened with scarcely concealed enthusiasm to Jack's
clear and concise account of what had been accomplished.
"You two saved the day," he said, finally. "We would have been in a very
tight hole indeed if you hadn't cut the railroad, which was the only
thing that made it possible for General Bean to effect the capture of
Hardport as he did."
"How is that, sir?" asked Jack. "I thought we gave him useful
information, and I cut the railroad because there seemed to be a good
chance to do it, without thinking very much of the consequences of doing
so."
"Why, if you hadn't cut the railroad," said Durland, "General Bliss
would have thrown a division into Hardport as soon as he heard at his
headquarters, by telegraph, that the place was threatened. Then he could
have moved troops over from Mardean, where I imagine he had at least a
couple of regiments, and General Bean's brigade would have been in a
trap that would have been absolutely impossible to escape from. Now it's
all different. We've got Hardport. By this time General Bean has
unquestionably theoretically destroyed the railroad bridge and has
artillery mounted so that the guns will have to be captured before
General Bliss can make an attempt to rebuild it."
"I see! If the bridge is covered with guns, the theory is that the enemy
couldn't do any work, eh?"
"Exactly! They've got to work in a narrow place, and they'd be blown to
pieces, a squad at a time, while they were trying to work. That was the
decisive move of the whole action. What did General Bean say to you?"
"He said it was good work, sir, and that he was going to speak to you of
it."
"Excellent, Jack! I am very pleased that one of my Scouts should have
played so important a part in the first decisive engagement of the
campaign. And General Bean is the sort of a man who is sure to see that
you get the credit for what you've done."
"What shall we do next, sir?"
"I'll hold you in reserve until I get further orders from headquarters,
I think. General Harkness evidently plans an aggressive fight from the
very outset. I have heard nothing from his headquarters direct as yet,
but I probably shall pretty soon. I shall send in a report of General
Bean's success at Hardport at once, though he has probably done that
already."
The Scouts were working well all along the line. The enemy, as Pete
Stubbs had reported, had crossed the State line in some small force at
Mardean. Two regiments had occupied that village, which was on the Red
side of the line, and had thrown out skirmishers for a couple of miles
in both directions. Warner, one of the Raccoon Patrol, had been
captured, but he was the only one of the Troop who had not made good his
escape in the face of the enemy's advance, and even he had accomplished
the purpose for which he had been sent out, since he had managed to
wig-wag the news of the advance of a troop of cavalry before they had
run him down, and the news had been flashed all along the line, from
Scout to Scout, until it had reached Durland.
The wireless was not in use here, though experiments were being made
with a field wireless installation some miles away, but the Scouts did
not need it. They were spread out within plain sight of one another, and
with their little red and white flags they sent messages by the Morse
alphabet, and in a special code, as fast as wireless could have done.
They also were prepared to use, when there was a bright sun, which was
not the case that day, the heliograph system, which sends messages for
great distances.
In that system of field signalling, extensively employed by the British
during the Boer war, since wireless had not at that time been at all
perfected, a man stands on a slight elevation, and catches the rays of
the sun on a great reflector. Those flashes are visible for many miles
in a clear atmosphere, in a flat country, and the flashes, of course,
are practically instantaneous.
"We don't need to worry about wireless for communications of a few
miles," said Durland. "The system of signalling that depends on seeing
flashes, smokes, flags and other signals, is as old as warfare, really.
The Indians, in this country, used to send news an astonishing distance
in an amazingly short time. They used smokes, as we know, since we have
all worked out those signals ourselves from time to time. And all
nations in time of war have employed relays of men with flags, stationed
at fixed intervals for scores of miles, for the sending of despatches
and important news. Napoleon used the system on a great scale, and,
until the telegraph was invented and made practicable for field work,
that was the only way it could be done."
"The telegraph was first used in our Civil War, wasn't it, sir?" asked
Tom Binns.
"Yes. But even then it was done in a very crude way. There was none of
the modern elaborate work of field telegraph systems. Nowadays, you see,
an army builds its telegraph lines as it goes along. Then they were
dependent upon the lines already built, mostly along the railroad
tracks. The first really great war in which such systems were in use was
the struggle between Russia and Japan. The French and the Germans didn't
have them in their war."
A few minutes later an orderly from the building in which the field
telegraph station had been established came running up to Durland.
"Despatch from General Harkness, Captain," he said, saluting, and
Durland took the slip of paper. He flushed with pleasure as he read it.
"Concentrate your troop at Hardport," he read. "Send Danby and companion
in scout car ahead, to report to me for special duty. Congratulations on
his splendid work, reported to me fully by General Bean."
"That is the sort of thing that makes it worth while to do good work,"
he said. "I think we saved General Harkness from an embarrassing
position this morning, and it is good to think that he appreciates what
we were able to do. Get along, now, Jack, and report to headquarters
just as soon as you can."
There was now no need to take the grey car through the fields as Jack
retraced their course over the straight road from Bremerton. They met
pickets, but those they met, who had heard something of the deeds Jack
had already accomplished, cheered his progress now, since this was no
longer the enemy's country but a part of Red territory, by virtue of
Bean's swift and successful attack of the morning. The soldiers they saw
were a part of their own army, and Jack waved his hand in grateful
acknowledgment of the cheers that pursued them as they sped by.
"Those fellows are regulars," he told Tom, as they passed one small
detachment. "It makes you feel good to think that they regard us as
comrades in arms, doesn't it, Tom? Those fellows know what they're
about, and they must regard some of our militia as a good deal of a
joke."
"I don't think that's a bit fair, Jack," said Tom. "The militia have
their own work to do most of the time, and they do the best they can
when they turn soldiers. And if we had a war, the regulars wouldn't be
able to go very far without help--they must know that!"
"They're not mean about it, Tom. They help the militia as much as they
can when they're in camp together, and teach them the tricks of the
trade. But they're trained men who don't do anything but work at their
soldiering, and the trained men always feel a bit superior to the
volunteers."
"Some countries have a much bigger army than we do, don't they, Jack?"
"Indeed they do! Why, in Europe, in every country except England, every
man has to serve in the army, unless he's too weak to do it. You see,
they have possible enemies on all sides of them. Over here we don't
realize how lucky we are to have the sea guarding us from the most
dangerous enemies we might have. We haven't any reason to fear trouble
with England, and Canada, of course, isn't any better off than we when
it comes to an army. We could take care of them easily enough with the
trained troops we have. And Mexico, while they might fight us, couldn't
put up any sort of a real fight. The Mexicans couldn't invade this
country, and if we ever had to invade Mexico, we'd have all the time we
needed to train an army to go across and fight them, the way we did
before. We may have to do that some time, but I hope not, because
fighting in the sort of country there is down there would mean an awful
loss of life."
"You mean that they know the country so well that a small force of them
could worry us and make a lot of trouble, even if we won all the big
battles?"
"Yes. The Boers couldn't stand up to the British very long in their
fight, but they kept under arms and made the English armies work mighty
hard to bring about peace."
"Well, I hope we never do have a war, Jack. This is only a game, of
course, but it gives you an idea of what the real thing would be like,
and it must be dreadful. It makes me realize, somehow, what it might
have been like in the Civil War, when we were killing one another.
Somehow reading about those battles doesn't give you as much of an idea
of how it must have been as even a single morning of this sham war."
They were moving along fast as they talked, and they were in the
outskirts of Hardport now. The town was full of soldiers. General Bean's
brigade had been reinforced by the arrival of nearly ten thousand more
men, and there were, altogether, about sixteen thousand troops there.
General Harkness, thanks to Jack Danby and the quick wit of General
Bean, who had understood the necessity of altering his plans for the
capture of the place when he got Jack's report, had made good his boast
that he would make the place his divisional headquarters for the night.
The place was all astir. Small automobiles, painted red, carried
bustling officers from place to place, delivering orders, preparing for
the next step in the defense of the State capital. General Harkness,
Jack found, after making several fruitless inquiries of officers who
seemed to be too busy to bother with a small boy, who, had they known
it, was a far more important factor in the campaign than they were at
all likely to be, had established his headquarters at the Hardport
House, the leading hotel of the town, and there Jack went.
He was kept waiting for some time, after he had stated his name, and
that he was under orders to report to the commanding general, but when
he reached General Harkness he found him a pleasant, courteous man, and
very much pleased with the work that he and Tom Binns had done.
"Now," said the General, "I've got some more and very important work for
you to do. I've got to find out as soon as I can what the enemy's plans
are. I don't expect you to do all of that, but you can play a part."
He walked over to a great wall map of the whole field of the operations,
and pointed out a road on it.
"That road is the key to the situation this afternoon," he said.
"General Bean is pressing forward to reach it as soon as possible, and
occupy this bridge here in force. If he can get there in time, the
enemy's advance will be checked. It is likely, in fact, that we may be
able to force a decisive engagement there before the enemy is at all
ready for it. Our capture of Hardport to-day, you see, has given us a
great advantage. Before that, the enemy was in a position to choose his
fighting ground. He could make us meet him where he liked, and with all
the advantage of position in his favor. Now that will be no longer
possible for him. The ground at Cripple Creek Bridge here is the best we
could have, since, if General Bean can occupy the position there,
General Bliss will have no choice but to give battle there, and I think
we can turn him back on his own mobilization point."
Jack saluted.
"I am to report on the number and disposition of the enemy's forces
about Cripple Creek, then, sir?" he said.
"Those are your orders. I shall expect a report within two hours."
"Yes, General. I will do my best to have one within that time."
Off in the distance, as Jack whirled out of Hardport, and beyond the
last pickets of the Red army, he saw a cloud of dust spreading across
the country.
"There's General Bean," he said to Tom. "Gee, his fellows must be pretty
tired! They've fought a battle and captured a town already, and now
they're off on a fifteen-mile march. Going some, I think!"
Cripple Creek was fifteen miles by the straight route the troops were
forced to take, but by short cuts and taking bad roads, Jack could reach
it by less than nine miles of traveling.
"Keep your eyes skinned, Tom!" said Jack, as he drove along. "I've got
to watch the road, and we're in the enemy's country again with a
vengeance."