STARTING FOR FRANCE
“Just to think of it, Tom,” Jack Parmly was saying some time
afterwards, as he sat before a fire in his chum’s den, for they had
been home some days, “to-night will be the last we expect to spend with
our folks for a long while.”
“Yes,” added the other boy, a bit seriously. “And to tell you the
truth, Jack, I really wish the parting was over. Father and mother
don’t say much, but I can see by their eyes they’ve been lying awake
these last nights worrying about me. This parting from the family is
the hardest part of the whole business to me.”
“Yes, my mother is trying to smile through it all,” said Jack soberly,
winking very fast as he spoke for some reason or other, though Tom did
not seem to notice the fact. “She has the soul of a true patriot. Years
ago when we were at war with Spain, she let father go to the front
without a complaint. My aunt told me that many times she found mother
crying in secret; yet to the world she always seemed to be as calm and
contented as if father had been at her side. No fellow ever had a
finer mother, Tom.”
“There’s only one fly in the ointment, according to my mind,” continued
the other, frowning as he spoke.
“I can guess what you mean,” said Jack. “You’re still thinking of that
scoundrel, Adolph Tuessig, and how he stole part of your father’s
design of his great invention. Tom, I wager the one hope in your heart
is that fortune will send you across his path some day or other, when
you can perhaps recover the lost paper, or at least repay him for his
treachery.”
“You’ve guessed it, Jack! I’d give anything to have just such a chance.
Father is beginning to despair of ever getting his invention completed,
with that part of his plans lost. He seems to be unable to remember
just how the exact combination was to be effected; and the more he
worries the deeper his confusion grows. Mother is quite anxious about
him on that account.”
“Stranger things than such a meeting have happened, Tom. Let’s hope
that just such a chance may come your way before that Tuessig is able
to hand over his find to the German headquarters in the Wilhelmstrasse.”
“Strange to say,” mused Tom, “the detective my father employed has been
unable to find a single trace of Tuessig. He seems to have disappeared
as if the earth had swallowed him up. Men have been kept watching the
German Legation at Washington right along, because the ambassador is
getting into pretty deep water, and is apt to receive his walking
papers any day; but Tuessig hasn’t been there.”
“Then,” said the hopeful Jack, “perhaps he doesn’t feel satisfied to
hand in only an incomplete prize. He may be holding on in the hope of
yet being able to steal the rest of your father’s secret.”
Jack soon took his departure. He hardly knew whether he felt joyous or
depressed over the near approach of the day when he was to start for
New York, there to board a trans-Atlantic steamer bound for the warring
country beyond the sea. There were times when Jack’s heart beat high
with delightful anticipations; and then again the sight of his widowed
mother’s pale face, with its forced smile whenever she thought he was
looking, gave him a severe pang.
Tom spent a quiet evening with his family. His father and mother, as
well as Oscar, a lad of twelve, and Phoebe, a six-year old sister,
hovered over him constantly, and the talk was as cheerful as could be
expected under the conditions.
Finally Tom kissed his mother good-night and went to his room. He was
gulping down the emotions that struggled in his heart, for it is indeed
no light thing for a boy to part from all he loves and go forth to risk
his life in the service of mankind.
The boy found it hard to lose himself in sleep. His thoughts roved far
afield as he endeavored to lift the curtain of the future and catch
faint glimpses of the wonderful things that might be lying in store for
him in the land across the sea, where the hand of war had been laid so
heavily.
At last he sank into an uneasy slumber. Just what time it was when
he suddenly awoke Tom would have found it difficult to say had he
been asked. He heard all manner of queer sounds welling up to his
partly-opened window from the yard. There were loud and explosive
ejaculations in a masculine voice, fierce yappings from the dog, Duke,
and then certain suspicious crashing noises as though some person might
be striving to clamber hastily over the high fence that ran around the
Raymond premises.
Tom leaped to his feet and hurriedly slipped into some of his clothes,
though in his excitement he could hardly manage his dressing, even
after he had turned on the electric light. Having accomplished this
after a fashion, he picked up a baseball bat as the best weapon of
defense within reach, and then hurried down to the front door.
His father called to him as he descended the stairs.
“Be careful of the dog, Tom! He’s back in the yard and growling
furiously. Speak to him as you go out. I’ll join you shortly. I believe
he must have the thief cornered somewhere.”
That gave Tom a pleasant thrill, for he fully believed the man must
be the same bold intruder who had stolen the paper from the safe on
that former occasion. He had undoubtedly returned in hopes of securing
another prize, and thus completing the object of his previous visit.
Swinging his baseball bat as he ran, Tom hastened around the house. The
moon was hidden from view behind clouds, but for all that it was not
dark, and Tom could see some object moving over in one corner of the
back yard.
A rather high fence surrounded Mr. Raymond’s property. Near the top of
this Tom made out a struggling figure that he took to be a man. As he
dashed forward and drew closer he discovered what it all meant.
The thief on being attacked by the bulldog had attempted to climb over
the fence. Before he could draw himself wholly out of reach the animal
had made an upward leap, and fastened those terrible teeth of his in
the seat of the fellow’s trousers as he hung suspended there.
Duke was swinging back and forth like an animated pendulum, growling
most ferociously. The alarmed man continued to strain every muscle
while striving to drag himself up, but with that added weight holding
him back he had until that moment been unable to accomplish this task.
On hearing Tom shout out to the dog however, a new spasm of alarm
caused the thief to struggle still more strenuously. Then the cloth of
his trousers gave way, and suddenly the dog fell back to the ground,
while the man, with great alacrity, slipped over the top of the high
board fence.
The animal commenced to race about shaking the fragment of cloth he
still held between his teeth. Tom made for the back gate, threw the bar
aside, and ran out. He heard his father calling to him to be careful,
but so long as he gripped such a good weapon as that heavy ash bat he
had no fear of the result, should he be fortunate enough to overtake
the thief.
The dog came rushing after him, and Tom gave the animal an encouraging
word. But after all he was doomed to disappointment, for the man had
obtained a start of half a minute at least, which was long enough for
his purpose.
When Tom heard the familiar throb of a motor working near by he
realized that the intruder had come prepared for hasty flight in
case of discovery. Then a car sped away with a great roaring of the
unmuffled engine.
Keenly disappointed, and yet pleased to know that the would-be robbery
had not occurred, Tom retraced his steps. His father met him just
inside the grounds.
“Then he got away clean and clear, did he?” asked the gentleman, who of
course guessed the state of affairs when he first heard the sound of a
speeding car.
“I don’t know about clean and clear, Dad,” Tom told him. “Come here,
Duke, and let’s see what you’re shaking so savagely.”
It was only with some difficulty that Tom persuaded the bulldog to let
him have the article. He held this up and then laughed.
“Why, it’s pretty nearly the entire seat of a pair of trousers,
father,” he explained. “The dog was hanging to him like the pendulum
of a grandfather clock, and fighting like everything to drag him down.
But the cloth gave finally, which allowed the scamp to tumble over the
fence and get away.”
Mr. Raymond took the spoils of Duke’s attack and examined it under the
glare of a little hand-electric torch he was carrying with him.
“The teeth of the dog drew blood, as you can see, my boy,” he remarked,
holding the article out to Tom. “I should say that rascal will have a
most decided limp to his gait for some days to come.”
“Then everywhere I go I’ll keep on the lookout for any man who walks
with a cane, and limps as though each step caused him pain,” suggested
Tom, perhaps in a semi-humorous mood, though he hardly felt as though
the subject was one to be treated lightly.
“Perhaps I had better send this fragment of cloth to the detective
who’s looking for Adolph Tuessig,” continued Mr. Raymond reflectively.
“It might afford him an excellent clue, in case he manages to find the
German secret agent of the Kaiser.”
“You seem to feel absolutely certain, Father, that this man must have
been the same thief who visited the house before.”
“There is no question about it in my mind, Son,” returned the other
firmly. “He has realized that what he managed to secure is only a
fragment of the whole; and so he either came back himself, or else sent
an accomplice, to try to find the rest of the papers containing my
secret invention.”
As the air was cold, and neither of them had fully dressed, the two
spent no more time in the open, saying a last word of commendation to
the dog, and then retiring indoors.
In the morning Tom investigated, and could easily see where the
would-be thief had scrambled so hastily over the fence; for footprints
led to the spot, and by looking closely he could even detect tiny
specks of a suggestive red stain on the boards, that told the tragic
story.
When Jack came he showed a tremendous amount of interest in the story,
and had to be taken over the whole ground, as well as pet Duke and
compliment him on his staying qualities. To all of this praise the
bulldog seemed to listen with more or less appreciation, if the jerking
of his abbreviated tail could be accepted as evidence.
That day would see them off. The minutes dragged in a way, because
both boys were becoming very nervous over the parting scenes, which
they dreaded a little. But it was over at last, and they boarded the
afternoon train bound for New York.
When they arrived in the great metropolis the afternoon was well on
toward its close. Indeed, already the shades of evening had begun to
gather as they took a taxicab and with their steamer trunks rode down
to the dock from which their vessel was to leave at some indefinite
time, perhaps before sunrise on the morrow.
As they arrived at the great bustling dock it was to find that electric
lights blazed and stevedores were hustling to finish loading the
vessel to the limit, while intending passengers were dodging the
rushing trucks or entering through the passenger entrance or hurrying
over the gangplank.
It was a scene of considerable commotion on which the two comrades
gazed as they paid their driver, and then saw to it that their steamer
trunks, bags and smaller packages were started for their stateroom.
Then they hurried to board the gray monster that lay alongside the
dock almost ready to start for the danger zone, where waiting German
undersea vessels lurked, watching for their prey like tigers in the
jungle hungry for a meal.
It was just at this moment that Tom caught his companion’s arm in a
tense grip, while he hissed in his ear:
“Look at that taxi driving wildly away, will you, Jack? A man thrust
his head out, and stared right at us just before the chauffeur started
off so furiously. And Jack, I recognized his face! My father had a
photograph of Adolph Tuessig which the detective obtained for him
somehow or other. Yes, that man in the taxi was the slippery German who
robbed my father! And he must know who we are, as well as why we’re
starting across to France!”