A WILD GOOSE CHASE
Like a flash, five uniformed figures flattened themselves to the ground
as several more bullets whistled above them. Though they heard no
report, a peculiar sound as of an almost silent concussion accompanied
the whine of each winging bullet.
For a moment or two the Khaki Boys pressed close to the cold earth, too
greatly flabbergasted for speech.
It was Jimmy who first cautiously raised himself a little from the
frozen ground. A bullet promptly sang past his head causing him to
quickly duck and resume his former position.
"Where are they coming from?" breathed Bob.
"On the left. That gateway," muttered Roger.
The Khaki Boys had been in the act of passing an apparently deserted
house on the outskirts of the village. It was surrounded by a high
stone wall, but the gate was missing, leaving a wide aperture.
Roger's alert eyes had noted it just as they came abreast of it. On the
other side of the road a little above it stood another house, dark like
the first.
"Then charge it," came impatiently from Jimmy.
Up in a flash, the quintet made a bold dash toward the danger spot.
Strangely enough not a single bullet more was directed at them by their
unknown foe.
Reaching the gateway, no one was to be seen. The clear moonlight shone
whitely down upon it, bathing the darkly outlined wall with radiant
light.
"Whoever ambushed us has cut and run along close to the wall and down
among those trees and outbuildings," surmised Bob.
"Come on, let's after 'em," proposed Jimmy sharply. "We're losing time.
We'll never nab 'em at this rate. Hug the wall, though. It's safer."
Led by impetuous Jimmy the party traversed on the run a long stretch of
bare ground that sloped gradually down to a small orchard at the end
of the grounds. Their eyes were sharply trained ahead to catch a first
glimpse of their quarry, hidden perhaps behind the trunk of a tree.
Against the moon's silver rays the trees stood out sharply, their bare
branches affording little shadow in which the fugitive enemy might seek
concealment.
First impulse toward self-protection under fire had been completely
routed by the desire to give chase. The hunters now darted recklessly
in and out among the trees, oblivious to the possibility of a fresh
attack from a new quarter.
None came. Neither did they glimpse any human beings other than
themselves. The enemy evidently had abandoned his or their murderous
project, and fled from the premises. Continued search led to the
discovery of a gap in the lower end of the wall.
"Here's where they beat it!" Bob pointed triumphantly to the gap.
"Looks like it. We've gone over every foot of this orchard."
Roger frowningly eyed the break in the wall.
"I don't believe it was _they_." Jimmy shook a decided head. "It was
_he_. A one-man game. He had a gun with a Maxim silencer, too. That's
why we heard only a queer muffled sound instead of distinct reports."
"That's so," agreed Schnitzel. "Anyhow, if there'd been two or three of
'em the whole bunch couldn't have skiddooed without our seeing at least
one of 'em."
"So think I mebbe scare som' Boche pretty bad, we run after," offered
Ignace.
"Somebody was sure plugging for the Fatherland," asserted Bob. "Nearly
plugged us, too. The first shot zipped between Blazes' head and mine."
"If we'd jumped up and started on we'd have got another peppering. The
sharpshooter who couldn't shoot sharp didn't figure on our rushing the
gate. It gave him such a jolt that he beat it."
"Where did he go?" demanded Jimmy.
"In an opposite direction to us, I suppose," surmised Schnitzel. "While
we were hiking for that orchard he was hot-footing it along the other
way. Two of us should have gone one way and three the other."
"Then he certainly didn't go through this gap. We're a nice bunch of
rookies," jeered Bob. "All run in one direction like a flock of sheep."
"Well, we were excited," excused Jimmy with a sickly grin.
"You mean rattled," laughed Roger.
"It was all Bob's fault," accused Jimmy jocularly. "If he hadn't gone
and said that our gunman had beat it along the wall and into that
orchard we wouldn't have been in such a rush to beat it after him."
"Yes, and what did you say?" retorted Bob in the same joking spirit.
"You were first man to yell, 'Come on, let's after him.' Then away you
went and took us along."
"Well, you didn't have to go, did you?" countered Jimmy.
"Sure we did, else why are we Blazes' bunkies?"
There was an earnest note back of this lightly uttered reply. Jimmy
caught it. Slapping Bob on the shoulder he said: "Good old Bob. You're
not so worse. I kind of like you."
"So glad, I'm sure," simpered Bob, returning the slap with interest.
"It's just as well that we kept together, I guess," commented Roger
soberly. "There's safety in numbers, you know. I don't see that there's
any use in hanging around here. Our man has given us the slip. It must
have been some stray Boche out on his own. Not a soldier, but some
secret sympathizer with the Fatherland, perhaps. Else why would he be
slipping around behind gates to plug passing soldiers? It's unusual for
a party from camp to be shot at like that so far back from the fighting
district."
"This yellow sneak might have been hanging around the station when we
got off the train."
As usual, Bob was full of theories. "He knew it was a straight road
to camp and that he couldn't miss us. Very likely he knows this part
of the country like a book, so he just took a cross-cut and waited at
the gate for us. It was a fine chance to get a whack at the 'American
dogs.' Long live Bunco Bill--not! I hope he chokes!" anathematized Bob.
"Some healthy little hate," snickered Jimmy.
"Oh, Bobby's a fine hearty hater," was the light assurance. "Well,
let's be on our way. We'd better be traveling along to camp. Double
quick, fellows, when we hit the road. We'll stand less chance of
getting potted as we go."
Out on the road again an excited discussion arose as they hurried
campward. It pertained to the motive for the unexpected attack.
Undoubtedly a prowling Boche had fired on them. They believed it was
not usual for soldiers to be thus attacked so far back of the fighting
district. Certainly they had not anticipated such an ending to their
peaceful pleasure jaunt.
Camp limits reached, they were challenged by a sentry and allowed to go
on to quarters after making satisfactory response and being advanced to
be recognized.
After he had turned in that night a swift, unbidden thought popped into
Sergeant Jimmy Blaise's brain just as he was dropping off to sleep.
It left him wide awake and staring reflectively into the darkness. He
wondered if, by any possible chance, the "tiger man" had succeeded in
picking up his trail.