THE TRICK
It was nervous work going through the lower floor of the house, through
the garden, trampled by the rush of the Cossack charge, through bushes
clipped and torn by bullets. All about was a curious silence, broken
only by the sounds that the birds made, and the humming insects, which
were not at all disturbed by war and the ruin it left in its wake. It
was a relief to both scouts to pass into the tunnel. There everything
seemed normal, strange though the place was. And in a few moments they
were back in the great hall of the Suvaroff house, and were being
greeted with delight by old Vladimir, though he reproached them, too,
for coming back.
Their first thought was for the wireless. Fred sent a brief report of
what had happened, describing the escape of General von Hindenburg. And
then, as he was about to end the message, Ivan stood beside him. His
eyes were shining and he seemed greatly excited.
"Tell them that von Hindenburg has only a masking force here with very
few first line troops," he said. "Most of the Germans are far to the
south. Their plan is to join the Austrians in an advance from Cracow.
Here they hope to hold the lakes with a few troops. They expect our army
to advance. They will give up Johannisberg and Ortelsburg. They will
make no stand at all until we come to Allenstein. The whole movement
here is a trick. They hope to lead us on here and then drive a great
wedge into the heart of Poland, until they can strike at Warsaw."
Fred made no comment. He sent the message, then asked his own questions.
"You know of the raid last night?"
"I heard something of it--and that the old fox Hindenburg escaped. Tell
me the rest."
"I'll be off," he said, when they had done. "Half a mile away I have a
cache. There is a motorcycle and the uniform of a German soldier--a man
of the cycle corps. I shall follow General Suvaroff."
"Can you catch them?" asked Boris, doubtfully. "They ride fast."
"Not so fast," said Ivan. "There may be fighting to do as well as
running, and for fighting you need horses that are not too tired. It
would be foolish to save an hour or two by hard riding and lose
everything at the end for lack of the power to break through. And a
motorcycle can do better than the fastest horse."
"But how did you get one?" asked Fred. "And the German uniform?"
Ivan smiled significantly.
"I met a man of about my size," he said. "I was walking. And I was
tired. I took his cycle and his uniform away from him."
There was something about his tone and the look in his eyes that made
Fred refrain from asking any more questions. He admired Ivan greatly,
but he was a little afraid of him, too. In him he could see what lay
behind the general belief that Russia was still a barbarous, partially
civilized state, the underlying truth of the old saying: "Scratch a
Russian, and you will find a Tartar beneath." He was glad that Ivan was
on his side, and was bound to him, moreover, by his loyalty to the name
of Suvaroff.
"Listen, now," said Ivan. "Here it is very dangerous. Stay as long as
you can, but never let yourselves be caught in the house by any Germans.
Do not let the villagers see you. Take to the tunnel without hesitation
if there is an attack upon the house, or a search. I think you will be
safe as long as you are watchful, but you cannot be off your guard for
even a moment. The Germans will think that you went back with the
Cossacks but they will try to make sure."
"We will be careful," said Boris. "You are sure of what you have
learned? There will be no more than two army corps in this region?"
"That is certain. I have scouted for twenty miles to the west and I have
been along the railway lines. If there were more troops coming, I
should have discovered it. I am sure of that."
"And now you are going back toward our lines?"
"Yes. I may be of service to your father. And, in any case, I shall be
of more use if I am with the German advanced position than if I stayed
here, far in the rear. Good-bye!"
He departed through the tunnel. And then for Fred and Boris began a task
almost harder than any that could have been set. They had to wait. There
was nothing for them to do except sit in the little turret room. Below,
Vladimir and the others kept a sort of guard, but there seemed little
reason even for that.
From the turret, whence the wireless waves were sent pulsing out through
the air, a fine view of the surrounding country for a good many miles
was to be had. For the most part this was a level section, slightly
undulating, but with very few high spots. From their vantage point the
roads stretched out like ribbons or like lines on a map. Fred opened the
wireless and amused himself by listening. At first he could hear only a
confused jumble through the receivers that were clamped to his ear. Then
he changed his wave length, experimenting until he got a clear series of
dots and dashes.
"I think I'll take this down," he said to Boris. "It'll be like Greek to
us, of course, but it's all German wireless talk, and it all means
something. Perhaps if we're lucky, we'll stumble on to the key of the
code they're using, and that might be useful."
After a time Boris, who could receive well enough but was an inexpert
sender, relieved him, and Fred, taking the field glass, began to search
the horizon. Soon something caught his eye and held his attention. At
first he thought he saw troops moving, coming from the east. It seemed
strange that German troops should be in retreat so soon, but in a moment
he understood. He did not see soldiers moving along the road, but a
company of civilians, with carts that were drawn by men and women. At
first the sight puzzled him, but then he understood, and he called to
Boris to look.
"They're clearing out the villages toward the border," he said.
Boris only glanced through the glass.
"Yes. They were doing it the day after the war began, too," he said.
"It's better for them, of course. If civilians are about where there is
fighting, they are in danger from both sides. The Germans wouldn't stop
a minute at shelling one of their own villages if we were holding it.
Fred, I think they must be going to send our little lot away, too. There
are soldiers coming along the road--Uhlans."
Fred looked down and saw a picket of lancers approaching, headed by an
officer. And in a few minutes there were signs of great activity in the
village. Soon the exodus began. And then the Uhlans turned at the road
leading up to the great house, and began to climb.
"Coming to warn our people, I suppose," said Boris. "We'll make
ourselves scarce, Fred. Vladimir can talk to them when they arrive."
But Fred did not go without one more sweeping look about him. And it
showed him something that surprised him.
"I've got a curious feeling," he told Boris, when they had slipped into
the secret passage. "I've got what we call a hunch in America--a feeling
that Ivan has been fooled. You didn't see what I did just now. I'm
perfectly certain I saw troops marching on two roads that aren't very
far apart, to the north."
"Marching east or west?"
"East. I think a real trap is being prepared, Boris. And--I'm going to
try to find out the truth!"
"How?"
"I'd better not tell you, Boris. Go back and listen--see what you can
hear at the thin wall. I'm afraid that if we both go we might be heard,
if they are near there. I want to know where those Uhlans come from."
"All right," said Boris, wondering a little. He went off, and Fred, as
soon as he had disappeared, began to make his way very quietly, almost
stealthily, indeed, toward the other end of the tunnel--the one that
gave to the open air.
"He'd never have let me go if I had told him," he said to himself,
feeling the need of justifying what looked like treachery, since his own
conscience was accusing him. "And I didn't lie to him. I didn't say that
I would be there when he came back. I only hope I get out before he
finds I've gone!"
When he reached the opening he felt safe, and there he stopped and wrote
a note to Boris, telling him what he meant to do and why he had not
taken him into his confidence before.
"He's sure to find that," said Fred to himself. "He'll come down here
looking for me, and I suppose he'd go out, too, no matter how dangerous
it might be, if I didn't leave this note."
As he swung the door that let him out, Fred felt the little thrill that
always came to him when he opened the way thus to the outer air. Ever
since he had come upon the German soldier here the first time, he had
had this feeling. This time, however, the way was clear, and he slipped
out and made his way swiftly toward the parsonage. He took advantage of
every bit of cover for he had no wish to be seen, at least as yet. Soon
he reached the vantage spot he sought. From it he commanded a view of
the village, and of the entrance to the great Suvaroff house on the hill
as well.
The dismal procession from the village had already begun. The place, in
fact, was already almost entirely deserted. Orders from the army
evidently counted for a good deal here. Fred wondered what Americans
would have done in a like case. But the departure of the villagers, who
knew him, and might have recognized him even in his German guise,
relieved him immensely. Before the house on the hill he could see a
mounted Uhlan on guard over the horses. The rest had gone inside. There
were only five of them altogether, which made him feel confident that
none would be left behind. There were too few for that.
As time passed, he wondered why they stayed inside so long. In a way, it
was to his liking that they should, but it made him nervous. He was
afraid that a real search was being made; afraid that, by some stroke of
misfortune, Boris's hiding-place had been revealed. But at last he saw
the solitary horseman outside the house stiffen to rigid attention. Then
the others came out, and he almost shouted in his relief when he saw
that they brought no one with them. The officer swung to his saddle and
in a minute more the little command was cantering down the hill. Fred
looked at the village searchingly now. There was no one left. A quarter
of a mile away the rear end of the wretched procession of refugees
straggled along the road, going west. They were not looking back.
Now it was time to put his plan to the test. The chances of full
success, as he understood perfectly, were most remote. And the danger
was great. He had not seen these Uhlans; there might well be someone
even in that small party who would recognize him. And he knew what would
happen then, if he were caught. But his plan compelled him to run that
risk, and he emerged from his shelter, and struck out boldly along the
road the Uhlans had taken to come to the village. He walked northeast,
and he knew that that in itself would be suspicious, but it was all part
of his plan.
He had not long to wait for the plan to begin, or at least to work out
according to his calculations. Behind him he heard a shout, but,
affecting not to hear it, he did not turn. And in a few moments he heard
the sound of galloping hoofs behind him. Even then he did not turn until
a Uhlan had ridden past him.
"Stop!" cried the soldier. "Where are you going?"
Fred looked at him blankly.
"Stop!" said the German again, for Fred, after having looked at him, had
moved on. Still Fred paid no attention, and the man rode up to him and
leaned over, dropping a heavy hand on his shoulder and shaking him in
no gentle way.
"Where are you going, I say? Answer!" roared the Uhlan.
But Fred only smiled and pointed first to his ears and then to his
mouth. By pantomime he pretended to be deaf and dumb. And when the
officer came up, Fred was still smiling--and silent. He knew he had
never seen this officer before.