THE BOY FROM SERBIA
Jack remained silent for a full minute after his companion had delivered
himself of this startling statement. He was evidently thinking it over.
Perhaps up to then Jack had not even suspected the tramp of being
anything more than he seemed, a well-grown lad who was far away from
home--and hungry.
Presently Jack spoke again, and from his manner it became apparent that
he now shared in some degree the alarm that Josh seemed to be laboring
under. Really, the conditions were suspicious enough to demand an
investigation. They were next to unarmed, and if four desperate young
fellows raided their camp they would find it difficult indeed to keep
from losing everything they possessed, from boat to supplies.
“I hate to think that such a thing can be possible, Josh,” he said
slowly, “but, as you were remarking, the circumstances force us to be on
our guard. Before we start to eating supper, which must be nearly ready
now, I’ll try and strike up a conversation with the fellow and learn
something about him.”
“But how on earth can you do that, Jack, when neither of you seem able
to understand one word of each other’s tongue?”
“Oh, leave that to me, Josh. There are ways, you know, even if I have to
come to paper and pencil and use the picture writing of the Indians.
What with signs and nods and looks we may get a fair understanding.”
“No harm trying, that’s a fact,” admitted Josh. “But I’ll watch my
chance and put the others wise. Every one of us ought to have some sort
of club handy so as to protect the camp and the boat if there’s going to
be a raid.”
Apparently the more Josh considered the subject the stronger became his
belief that he had hit the truth in making that guess. In his eyes the
dark face of the young stranger now began to assume a threatening
appearance, whereas before it had only seemed hungry and eager and
almost sad.
Jack watched his opportunity and soon found a chance to drop down beside
the stranger. He saw that there was intelligence in the face of the
other. It could also be seen in his flashing eyes. If Jack had only been
able to understand and speak the other’s language he felt sure he could
induce him to tell his story.
He took out a pencil and a pad of paper and began to draw. As Jack was a
master hand at this sort of thing, he quickly produced a sketch that
represented four boys, all dressed alike, and in the costume which the
young stranger wore.
This he held before the other, and then pointed to him as he nodded.
After looking at the drawing intently the boy shook his head. It was
evidently intended for a denial that he had three companions, but then
Jack could hardly have expected him to admit it openly.
One thing sure, he did not seem to be alarmed, as though suspecting that
his secret had been discovered; only puzzled.
As if governed by a sudden impulse, he motioned for the pencil and
paper, just as Jack expected he would do, and in his turn began to draw
something. When he handed the pad back it was seen that he had actually
made a pretty accurate map of the enlarged Serbia of to-day; doubtless
every schoolboy in that country was early taught to be able to do this,
on account of the great pride the Serbian people took in their recent
victories over Turkey and Bulgaria.
He had even written in bold letters the magical word “Serbia” across
this map, as if determined to remove all doubt as to what it was meant
for. Such frankness made Jack begin to believe that the other could not
possibly be the desperate character Josh suspected; had he been, it
would only have seemed natural for him to deny his nationality lest he
be arrested and put in an Austrian dungeon.
Jack went a step further, after the boy, first pointing to his map,
smote his own chest proudly and smiled, as if to proclaim that he
belonged in that country. By various gestures he tried to ask the other
what he was doing here in a hostile land.
The other watched his every gesture and seemed to be reading even the
expression on Jack’s face. It is surprising how much can be learned that
way. Whole conversations may be carried on by instinct and intelligence.
One who does not know a single word of Italian may be able to sense the
general meaning of many paragraphs in a newspaper war item by the
similarity of words. Try it, and you will see that this is really so.
By slow and laborious degrees Jack began to pick up something of what
the other was trying to tell him. The further he proceeded the more
intense did the boy seem to become. Buster, glancing that way from time
to time, filled with curiosity, considered that they were using their
hands almost as cleverly as a couple of mutes did whom he had once
watched talking in the sign language.
Of course, Josh had before then managed to whisper to each of the other
two what a “mare’s nest” he believed he had unearthed, so that both
George and Buster had begun to look on the intruder in the light of a
dangerous fellow. George kept caressing a stout cudgel of which he had
become possessed, as though determined not to be caught entirely
defenseless in case of a sudden raid.
“Do you suppose Jack’s really finding out anything?” Buster whispered to
Josh when the other leaned down as if to ascertain how the supper was
coming on.
“Sure he is,” replied the other, “though chances are the cub’s giving
him taffy just to keep him quiet.”
“But Jack seems to be interested a whole lot,” objected Buster.
“I think Jack means to join us presently, from the way he nodded to me
just then,” Josh went on to say hastily, “so don’t hurry on the supper
more than you can help. For all we know we may have to share it with
_four_ instead of one.”
It proved to be just as Josh had predicted, for presently Jack left the
side of the dark-faced young stranger and come over to the fire.
“Well, how did you manage to get on with him?” asked Josh impetuously.
“It grew easier as we went on,” said Jack. “He knows just a little bit
of English, after all. When that failed he resorted to the paper and
pencil, or else made gestures. When I shook my head to tell him it was
all a mystery to me, he would try again in a different way, and we
always succeeded in getting there by one means or another.”
“Did he own up in the end, Jack?” asked Josh.
“If you mean about being one of the four Serbian youths we thought he
might be, he denied it absolutely,” came the reply.
“H’m! What else could you expect, since their game had been knocked on
the head by the breaking out of the war and they found themselves being
hunted like rats in a hostile territory, afraid to ask for anything to
eat because they’d like as not be grabbed? No wonder he looks hungry,
say I.”
Jack looked at the other and shook his head.
“This time you’re away off, old fellow,” he told Josh. “He didn’t come
up into Austria-Hungary on an errand of blood, but one of mercy.”
“As how, Jack?” asked Buster, already deeply interested.
“He has a little sister,” the other went on to say. “She seems to be
just so high,” and he held his hand about three feet from the ground,
“from which I’d judge she might be something like six or seven years
old.”
“A sister, eh?” George remarked skeptically.
“Listen, fellows,” continued Jack, “here’s the story he told me as near
as I was able to make it out, for lots of times I had to just guess at
things; but it ran fairly smooth, after all. He lived in Belgrade, the
capital of Serbia. There was his mother, a widow with some means, and
one little sister. This girl, it seems, was blind and the pet of
everybody who knew her.”
“Gee! that sounds interesting,” muttered Josh.
“Some time ago the mother learned of a celebrated surgeon up in Budapest
who had performed wonderful cures with people afflicted just as the
little child was. It was determined to take the girl to him, and an
appointment was made; but just then the mother had the misfortune to
sprain her ankle and could not walk a step.”
“Tough luck,” said Buster, “and I can see what the boy did. He looks
like he had the grit to carry anything like that out, sure he does.”
Apparently Buster was taking stock in Jack’s story and changing his
opinion again with regard to the dark-faced young stranger.
“Yes, there was nothing for it but that the boy go to Budapest with his
little sister and stay there while the operation went on. From what he
tells me he was in the Hungarian capital nearly a month. The surgeon
operated, and the thing turned out a splendid success. You ought to have
seen how his face lighted up when he told me in sign language that she
could see now just as well as any one.”
“Then why didn’t he start home right away, knowing how anxious his
mother must be?” asked George incredulously.
“First the surgeon would not allow it for a certain time after the
bandages were taken off. Then, as luck would have it, just when they
were about to start, a thief broke into their apartment and stole every
dollar, or whatever money the Serbians use.”
“Oh, how tough that was!” exclaimed Buster sympathetically.
“A likely story, I call it,” muttered George.
“On top of it all the war broke out, and he knew that unless they
hurried off from Budapest the Hungarian authorities might arrest them.
So they sold a few of their things and get enough money together to
carry them part of the way to the Serbian border. Then they had to leave
the train and start to tramp the rest of the way. Neither of them have
had a bite this whole day. Seeing us land, he became desperate and
determined to appeal to us to help him, if we looked as if we were kind
people. Then I chanced to run across him. That’s what he told me, as
near as I could make it out.”
Jack saw that while Buster and Josh were disposed to believe the young
stranger, George still hung back.
“It makes a pretty interesting story, that’s right,” was what George
said, “but there’s a fishy part to it. That little sister sounds like an
invention to get our sympathy. Where is she at, I’d like to know; let
him produce the kid, say I.”