CHAPTER XVI

BETWEEN THE GRINDSTONES

For a moment Fred was stunned by the force of his fall. But it was only

for a moment, since, by something that was very like a miracle, he was

unhurt. He got up and looked around, a little dazed, for Boris. In a

moment he saw him lying very still, his white face lighted up by the

flames from the burning car. He ran over and he was vastly relieved to

see that his cousin was conscious.

"My leg is broken, I think," said Boris, speaking quickly. "Fred, you

must run for it alone. You will be able to get to the Russian lines. But

hurry! They are coming, I'm sure! They must have heard the crash!"

"Do you think I'm going to leave you here?" asked Fred, indignantly.

"We'll sink or swim together, Boris!"

"Why should two of us suffer when one can escape?" asked Boris.

"Besides, you've got to go, Fred, for my sake as well as for your own.

They'll treat me well enough. But if they catch us here wearing German

uniform coats--well, you know what that would mean!"

Fred was startled. He had not thought of that.

"Take my coat and helmet and get away as fast as you can," urged Boris.

"Then I can say that I have been in the car. They'd know that, of

course, but I could make them believe that I was in it against my will,

and that the two men in uniform they saw had escaped. If they catch you,

they'll send you back to headquarters and you'll be recognized there at

once. Then they'd do to me whatever they did to you, just because I was

caught in your company. No, it's the only chance for either of us, Fred,

and you've got to take it quickly."

The idea of abandoning a friend, and much more one who had come to mean

so much to him as did Boris, seemed terrible to Fred. And yet it was

impossible for him to refute Boris's argument. His cousin was right.

And now he could hear the voices of approaching men. Naturally, if the

Germans on the culvert thought that a car containing two German officers

had been wrecked, they would come to the rescue. There was no time to be

lost.

"I suppose you're right, Boris," he said, with a groan. "But it's the

hardest thing I've ever had to do! But it is so. It would make it worse

for you if I stayed. That's the only reason I'll go, though! You believe

that, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" said Boris. "Haven't you proved what sort you are,

when you risked your life to try to help me to get away at the

parsonage? Go! Hurry! Get this coat and helmet off me!"

So Fred set to work. He had to move Boris to get the coat off, and the

Russian groaned with the pain of his broken leg. Fred dared not wait,

now that he had made up his mind to fly, even to see the extent of the

injury, much less to apply first aid. Had there been time, he might have

made Boris comfortable, for, like all well trained Boy Scouts, he

understood the elementary principles of bandaging and had made more than

one temporary setting in splints for broken bones. But he knew that the

Germans would be there in a minute or two, and he had no reason to

suppose that they would lack common humanity. They would care for Boris.

Probably they had a surgeon back at the culvert, or fairly near at hand,

at any rate.

"Get off the road," said Boris, gritting his teeth. "My head is

swimming, and I'm afraid I'm going to faint or do some such foolish

thing! But don't stay in the road. They're sure to go along, looking for

you."

Fred had reasoned that out for himself. And now, when he had rolled up

Boris's coat and helmet into a bundle, he leaped a narrow ditch and

plunged into a thick mass of bushes. He did not know the country here,

and had no notion of what sort of cover he might find. But luck was with

him though for a moment he thought he had stumbled into a disastrous

predicament. The ground gave way beneath him suddenly and he felt

himself falling. He relaxed instinctively, and came down on hands and

knees on a mass of leaves and twigs. He had fallen into a sort of

shallow pit, but deep enough to shelter him. It seemed to him to be like

a deadfall, such as he knew trappers sometimes make. The place was ideal

for such a use, but now no steel-jawed trap yawned for him. And it was

only a moment before he realized that this was just the hiding-place for

him--and one, moreover, for which he himself might have searched in

vain.

"They'll never look for me as near the wreck as this," he said to

himself. "They'll spread out probably, but I think I'll be safe here. As

safe as anywhere, and it will give me a chance to find out what's

happening, too."

The side of the pit nearest the road was almost open, though it was

screened by bushes and foliage. Fred, however, was able to peer out and

to see the dancing flames, giving a weird and ghostly appearance to the

scene in the road. The Germans were very close now and he had just time

to poke up some branches to hide the opening through which he had

fallen. Then he lay down, his eyes glued to a sort of natural peephole

that gave him a view of the road.

"It's like a grandstand seat!" he said. "But I hope no one wants to see

my ticket because I'm afraid the usher would make me change my seat!"

But then Fred had to give his whole attention to what was going on in

the road. The Germans came running up, a young officer in the lead.

There were a half dozen of them. At first, as they looked about near the

burning car, they saw no one. But then one of the soldiers saw Boris and

raised a shout. The officer went over, leaned down and then started back

with a cry of surprise.

"That is no German officer!" he exclaimed. He bent over again and Fred

winced as he saw him shaking Boris by the shoulder. He wondered if Boris

was shamming, or if he had really fainted. Then it was plain that there

was no pretence. The officer, gently enough, raised Boris's head, and

taking a flask from his pocket, forced a little of the spirits it

contained into Boris's mouth. Fred saw his cousin stiffen; he was coming

to his senses. Then the officer let him down, but made a sort of pillow

for him with a cushion that had been thrown out of the automobile when

it was overturned.

"Feel better? Good!" he said. "Now tell me what happened! Where are the

two officers who were in the car? Were they hurt?"

"I--do not know," said Boris.

Fred had to strain his ears to catch what Boris said. Boris was weak and

exhausted, and Fred was glad that the German officer seemed kindly and

disposed to be humane.

"You do not know? How is that? You were in the car with them, weren't

you?"

"I was in the car, but I do not know what happened after the accident. I

was thrown out--and I did not know anything until you roused me just

now."

"But what were you doing in the car, then? Who were those officers?

Where were they going?"

"I do not know. I know only that I was walking along the road, because

all the people had been sent away from their homes, when the car

stopped, and a man told me to get in and sit low, so that I should not

be seen. Then we drove very fast and after a while there was a crash,

and I was thrown out."

"Can you walk?"

The German's tone had changed somewhat. It was anxious now, and puzzled.

"I--don't know," said Boris. "There is a pain in my leg--here, right

above the ankle. Ouch!"

Fred saw the German officer slip his hand down over the spot to which

Boris pointed, and his touch dragged the exclamation of pain from Boris.

"You can't walk, that's certain!" said the German. "You've got pluck,

boy! There's a nasty break there. You need a surgeon! Well, I'll have to

do what I can for you until we can find one. Can you stand a little more

pain? Niehoff, give me your emergency kit. You have the splints? So! I

shall see what I can do."

He was busy for a moment. Then with a sergeant, evidently his second in

command, he withdrew to be out of Boris's hearing. But as it chanced,

his movement brought him to a point where it was easier than ever for

Fred to hear everything he said.

"There is something deuced queer about this business!" said the officer.

"I think this boy is telling the truth, but we saw two officers in the

front seat of that car. That much was certain. They were not ground into

powder in the accident, you know. If they had been killed, there would

be something left of them. They got out all right--that's evident. And

they made themselves scarce. They must have known we would come, and if

they have gone so quickly, it is because they did not want us to see

them at close quarters."

"Spies, you think?" asked the sergeant.

"Evidently! But how they got here I'd hate to guess! They came from a

quarter where we are in complete control. Yet they stole one of our

cars, and a couple of uniform coats and helmets, at least!"

"We can look further for them," said the sergeant.

"Yes--and one might look a long time in a haystack before one found a

needle! However, let the men spread out along the road and see what they

can find. Give the order!"

Fred sighed with relief. He had been right in his decision to stay where

he was, as he understood fully when he saw the soldiers go off down the

road, looking for some trace of the passing of the two imaginary

officers. Meanwhile the officer went back to Boris.

"We'll take this lad back with us," he said to the sergeant. "He needs

attention, and I prefer to give someone in higher authority a chance to

talk to him. This is a very mysterious affair, all around. It is too

much for my brain!"

"And for mine, too!" grumbled the sergeant. "If I had my way, we would

have orders to shoot all suspicious characters first and find out

whether they deserved it or not afterward. I thought we should stop that

automobile when we saw it coming."

"And I did not," said the officer, sharply.

The sergeant said nothing more.

Soon the men returned from their fruitless search. Then a litter was

improvised and Boris was placed upon it and taken away. Fred had been

very fearful for it had seemed more than likely to him that a sentry

would be left to watch the wreck. If that had been done, it would have

complicated his position, because he could scarcely have hoped to get

out of his shelter without making some noise. But this was a precaution

that apparently did not suggest itself to the Germans.

And so, as soon as they were well out of hearing, Fred scrambled out,

leaving his dangerous coats and helmets behind, and began trudging

boldly along the road. He did not know the character of the wooded

section through which the road now ran, and it seemed to him that he

would be safer in the road than if he tried to walk under cover.

Fred was very tired. And, now that the excitement was fading, he was

beginning to realize that he had not escaped entirely scatheless from

the wreck of the car. Every bone and muscle in his body was sore and

aching, and he wondered how many black and blue spots he would find when

he got a chance to look for them.

By Ivan's reckoning, he had something like two miles to go to reach the

Russian outposts. He was now in a sort of No Man's Land that lay between

the two armies. And, indeed, before long, he saw fires twinkling

ahead--the fires of the Russians. That was as he came to the crossroad

of which Boris had spoken. It seemed that his troubles must be nearly

over. And just then he heard a clatter of hoofs and saw, riding up the

crossroad toward him, a troop of German Uhlans. He began running. But

they had seen him and gave chase. He dared not stop. On he ran, hoping

that the Russians were nearer than their fires.

The Boy Scouts In Russia · 第 16 / 18 章