CONCLUSION.
"Where do I come in? Won't you let me help?" bawled Tubby, hurrying
after his two chums as fast as his fat legs would carry him.
Neither of the others paid the slightest attention to him. Just then
Tubby was about as useless as a fifth wheel to a wagon. He was so clumsy
that if he attempted to take a hand in the rescue work the chances were
Rob and Merritt would have to spend a portion of their time in saving
him.
They ran out into the middle of the road. The crazy little pony was
already close up, and there was no time to be lost.
"Now!" shouted Rob. "Nab him, and throw him if you can!"
Both scouts fastened upon the bridle close to the bit. Every ounce of
muscle the boys possessed was brought to bear, supplemented by all the
shrewdness they had acquired upon the football field, in tackling and
throwing the runner who held the coveted pigskin oval.
There was something of a struggle, and then down went the frantic pony.
"Hey! let me sit on him; I'll keep him quiet!" called Tubby, as he came
panting up to the spot; and once he had deposited his extra weight upon
the little beast, it had no other course open but to succumb to
circumstances and lie quiet.
Rob turned to see what had become of the child. There was a stout,
red-faced man, coming on the run as fast as he could hurry. Undoubtedly
it was his child. While he was in a store, the pony probably had been
taken with a sudden seizure of what Rob called "blind staggers," which
sometimes causes horses to dash madly away as though possessed of an
evil spirit, and even to destroy themselves against any barrier that
arises in their path.
The child, though crying with fright, was apparently unhurt. Some one
had taken her from the basket-cart, and should the pony have broken
loose again, it could not have imperiled the little one.
In another minute, the red-faced man was hugging his child, and covering
her face with kisses. The people must have told him who had saved his
darling, for he came up to Rob and Merritt. (The pony had now become
quite calm, though Tubby continued to occupy his seat, for, as he
afterwards said, "he knew a good thing when he found it; and he was
_awful_ tired.")
The big stout man, evidently a German, from his appearance and language,
began to pour out his thanks; but Rob shook his head as he remarked:
"None of us can speak German, sir. We are American boys, you see; I can
understand a little French, but that is all."
The man's face lighted up. He immediately seized Rob by the hand and
commenced to kiss him on the cheeks; but the boys had learned that this
was the common method of warm salutation abroad, even among men, though
they had never seen it done across the water.
"I am glad you are American and not English!" the other went on to cry.
"I would be sorry, indeed, if I owed the life of my little Frieda to an
English boy. But an American, it is quite different. Ach! what would I
not do to show you how grateful I am for your brave act? Tell me, can I
not do something to prove that in Germany we look upon your country as
our friends? My name it is Herr Frederick Haskins, I am the principal
owner of the chemical works over yonder. Let me be your host while in
Sempst you stay. It would give me much pleasure, I assure you."
Rob stared at Merritt, and the latter almost held his breath. Was there
ever such great luck as this? They had saved a child from danger, and
made a warm friend of her father, who had turned out to be the
proprietor of the very factory where Steven Meredith had an interest
outside of his occupation as a secret agent of the Kaiser.
"Rob, ask him!" whispered Merritt, too overcome himself to find words in
which to give utterance to what was weighing so heavily on his mind.
So the patrol leader, mastering his inclination to feel just as "shaky"
as Corporal Crawford, turned again toward the red-faced German chemist.
"We might accept your kind offer of entertainment for to-night, Herr
Haskins," he said, as though they took the man's sincerity for its face
value, "because we will have to put up somewhere, though to-morrow it
may be we shall want to start back toward Antwerp again. You said that
you were the proprietor of the chemical company in town. Are those the
works where the smoke is coming out of the stacks?"
The man nodded. He held his little girl in his arm, as though he could
not bear to let her be away from him again. A look of what seemed to be
pride crept over his face; it meant something that his was the only
factory that had been kept running, simply because his foreign hands did
not have to go when the call to the Belgian colors came.
"It is because I have the confidence of the German government that I am
allowed to continue my works," he said in a low tone, as though not
wishing others to hear what he was saying.
"It is very strange," continued Rob, bound to learn the worst
immediately, now that such a golden opportunity had come along, "but it
was to see a man connected with your business that we came all the way
from Antwerp. His name is Mr. Steven Meredith, who was over in America
not so many months ago."
It was apparent that they were going to meet with a keen disappointment;
Rob knew this the second he saw the shade of regret pass over the
rubicund face of Herr Haskins.
"Ah! that is really too bad," the stout man exclaimed; "for you are just
one week too late!"
"Has he left Sempst, then?" asked Merritt sturdily.
"Just seven days ago he shook hands with me, and said I could look for
him when I saw him again. That might be in a month, and it might be six,
even Steven could not say. He simply had to obey his orders from his
superiors. His interest in the works is not the only thing he follows,
you understand."
"No," said Rob, mysteriously, looking carefully around, as though he
wanted to make sure he was not overheard, "of course we know his other
business. The General Staff has ordered him again on duty somewhere. It
is too bad, because my friend here wishes to see Herr Meredith very
much, indeed."
"I am sorry," remarked the stout man, in a hesitating way, and Rob knew
that if he hoped to get any information from this source at all now was
the time to strike--while the iron was hot.
"You say you are grateful, sir," he hurriedly whispered, "because we
happened to save your little girl's life, or at least kept her from
being badly injured. We would call the debt canceled if you could tell
us where we can find Herr Meredith. If he is in France, tell us where."
The man did not immediately reply. His face was a study. He was
undoubtedly being torn between gratitude and devotion to the interests
of his emperor, whom he would have died to serve, no doubt.
"If I could only be sure it was right for me to give you that
information," Rob heard him mutter, and he hastened to follow up his
attack.
"I give you my word of honor, Herr Haskins," he said earnestly and
convincingly, "that none of us has the slightest intention to betray
Steven Meredith to his enemies. If you write down the information we
need, we solemnly promise you not to use it to his injury. My friend
only wants to get a small thing Herr Meredith has with him, although he
himself does not know it is in his possession, for it was all a mistake
about his taking it. He will be only too glad to give it to us, and we
shall trouble him no more. Won't you take our word of honor, sir?"
The big man looked down at his child, and that must have decided him.
"Come home with me, and spend the night," he said in a hospitable way.
"We will entertain you the best we can under the peculiar conditions
existing here. If you care to, you can tell me all about yourselves; and
I promise you that before you go to sleep this night I will place in
your possession an address in Northern France where you will likely find
my partner, _under another name_. But you must swear to me that under
no conditions will you imperil his position there. Is it a bargain, my
boys?"
Rob looked at Merritt. The latter, although terribly disappointed, was
still game. He gave not the slightest sign of submitting to the decrees
of a cruel Fate.
"We will accept your hospitality, Herr Haskins," he said quietly, "and
also take from you that address under the promise you ask. Steven
Meredith has no reason to fear that we will betray him. We are
Americans, and our President has asked that every one, old and young,
remain strictly neutral while this war is going on."
"We bound up the wounds of three times as many Germans after the battle
as we did Belgians," Rob added, while Tubby was heard to mutter under
his breath:
"Which was because there were ten times as many Germans hurt as there
were of the brave little Belgian army."
They accompanied Herr Haskins to his fine home, where they were
splendidly entertained that night. Tubby ate so much dinner that he was
incapable of joining in the conversation that immediately followed,
though that fact was of minor importance, because, as a rule, he only
made himself a nuisance when there was any serious discussion on hand.
At least, if they had to be disappointed in not finding the man they had
come so far to deal with, they could deem themselves lucky in meeting
Herr Haskins under conditions that placed him heavily in their debt;
otherwise they might never have discovered in what direction Steven
Meredith had gone when his superiors in the German Secret Service
ordered him on duty again.
As it was, when the boys on the following morning once more headed in
the direction of Antwerp, armed with a letter from Herr Haskins that
would be of considerable service should they be held up by any German
patrol, Merritt also had a small bit of paper secreted inside the lining
of his coat, on which simply an address was written.
As they journeyed they had plenty of opportunities to lay out their new
program and build fresh castles in the air concerning the success which
they meant to attain if it lay in mortal power.
Whether they were as fortunate in the new fields that now stretched
before them as they had been in avoiding pitfalls between the battle
lines in Belgium, you will find recorded in the next volume of this
series, under the title of "The Boy Scouts with the Allies in France."
THE END.
BOY SCOUT SERIES
BY
LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS
Cloth Bound, Price 50c per volume.
THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE.
Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was
a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts?
The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle
thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in
grave difficulties.
There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other
tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast
vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books
hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among
the Moquis.
Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim
figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant
grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as
gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The
boy is weaponless and,--but it would not be fair to divulge the
termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and
place upon their shelves to be read and re-read.
Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
HURST & CO., PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
BOY SCOUT SERIES
BY
LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS
Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume.
THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE EAGLE PATROL.
A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become
part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with
this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys
of all ages and in all parts of the country.
While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting
adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his
companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous
things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of
most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome
every one of their dangers and difficulties.
How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the
patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their
disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil
a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the
book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and
breathless incident.
Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
HURST & CO., PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
Transcriber's note:
Obvious mistakes have been corrected, but other discrepancies
have not been changed. Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained.