A CLOSE CALL
There was a stir among the Army Boys as they crowded around their
leader.
"Are you sure, Frank?" asked Billy.
"Positive," answered Frank. "I can tell by their uniform and by
their walk. I could even make out that some of them were wearing
the uniform of the Jaeger regiments. They fought against us in the
Argonne, and you'll remember that they're pretty tough birds. If
it comes to a scrap we'll have our work cut out for us."
"But why should there be any scrap?" questioned Tom. "Germans are
arrested every day in Coblenz and no one tries to rescue them."
"That's different," replied Frank. "The people know there that
we've got powerful forces right at hand that could crush any
attempt at rescue. But that doesn't count much out in the
wilderness. If these fellows have an officer with them, he'll
probably have sense enough to know that it doesn't pay to buck up
against the United States army. But if they're just traveling
along without organization, they feel so sore at us that they may
be willing to take a chance and mix in."
"How many do you make them out to be?" asked Billy.
"About fifteen, I should judge," was the answer.
"What are you going to do?" asked Bart.
"Keep right ahead in the direction we are going. The boldest way
is usually the best. If they saw us do any pussyfooting, they'd
think we were scared, and they'd come after us anyway."
The two parties were not traveling in such a line that they would
necessarily meet each other. Under ordinary conditions they would
have passed at a distance of perhaps six hundred feet. But as the
other party approached, Frank could see that one of their number
was observing him and his comrades through a pair of field
glasses. There was a hurried consultation, and then the newcomers
swerved from their line of march and came directly toward the Army
Boys.
"Just what I expected," muttered Frank, as his eyes darted from
place to place over the snowy landscape to find a favorable
position from a military point of view.
A hundred feet away was a slight rise of ground from which grew a
clump of gigantic oak trees. They were so close together that
their roots seemed to intermingle. On the near side of the little
hill the vagaries of the wind had swept the snow into a sort of
cave formation, leaving a space in the center hollowed out with
great banks of snow on both sides.
Straight into this cave-like space Frank marched his group of
prisoners who were walking with their hands upraised, but resting
on their heads so as to ease their arms.
"You stand here, Billy, with your gun leveled, and if any one of
these fellows makes a break drop him in his tracks," Frank
directed, "You, Bart and Tom, come with me, and we'll go ahead and
have a parley with this gang, and see what their intentions are."
The newcomers had now approached within a distance of a hundred
yards. The boys looked in vain for any one wearing an officer's
uniform, but there was no one who seemed to be in command. The
crowd advanced in straggling formation, some of their faces
exhibiting merely curiosity, while those of others were ugly and
determined. There were perhaps half a dozen rifles among the lot,
but the boys could see army revolvers at the belts of half a dozen
more. A few had nothing but heavy sticks. The clothing of all was
worn and travel stained, but all were of military cut and pattern,
indicating that the wearers had belonged to the German army. The
Army Boys went boldly toward them, and their confident bearing
seemed to impress the Germans, who hesitated in their advance and
crowded close together as though in consultation.
The boys kept going until they were within thirty feet, and then
Frank handed his rifle to Billy and went forward with empty hands
to show that his intentions were peaceable.
"We're American soldiers, as you can see by our uniforms," he said
in a clear voice, in which there was no trace of wavering. "We are
on our way to camp. We saw you turn from your line of march and
come our way as though you wanted to speak to us. What do you
want?"
Frank had spoken in German and they all understood him, but there
was no answer ready, although the men's eyes glowered as they
rested on his uniform and there were muttered exclamations.
"Is there any one of you that speaks English?" Frank asked, after
waiting a moment.
Again a whispered consultation, and one of their number was pushed
forward by the others.
"Do you speak English?" Frank asked.
"Yes," replied the man roughly. "I lived for five years in your
accursed America."
The tone and words were offensively insolent, but Frank took no
notice of them.
"Then perhaps you can tell me what you and your comrades want with
us," he said.
"We want those prisoners you have with you," the man replied.
"What prisoners?" parried Frank.
"Don't try to fool us," the man answered angrily. "We saw those
men walking with their hands on their heads, and we know they are
Germans. We want them, and we're going to have them."
"How are you going to get them?" Frank asked quietly.
"How are we going to get them?" sneered the man. "Why, by taking
them, if we have to. There are only four of you, as we saw through
our glasses, and we're four to one. You wouldn't be fools enough
to fight against such odds. If you give them up peaceably we won't
hurt you. But if you don't, we'll wipe you out."
"Now listen," said Frank sternly. "We've arrested these men
because they were plotting against the United States. We've set
out to take them into camp, and we're going to do it. This
district is under American rule and America has a long arm. You
may wipe us out, but the American Government will reach out that
arm and get you, no matter where you try to hide. I warn you to go
on your way and let us pass."
"It's fight then, is it?" snarled the German.
He turned to his companions.
"Comrades!" he roared.
But he got no further.
Like lightning, Frank's left hand shot out and gripped the man by
the collar. With his right, he yanked his automatic pistol from
his belt and clapped it against the man's temple.
"One move and I'll blow your brains out," he snapped.
The man, after his first instinct of revolt, stood like a statue.
That cold muzzle against his head was a compelling argument.
There was a wild commotion among the Germans, and rifles were
raised, but as Frank had whirled his prisoner between him and them
they did not dare to fire, but stood raging but irresolute.
Walking backward with his prisoner, the pistol still pressed to
his head, Frank rejoined Bart and Tom, whose rifles were leveled
at the crowd. Step by step the boys retreated, until they stood
with Billy in the shelter of the oaks. Frank then delivered his
prisoner to Billy, who made him lie down in the snow cave with the
others.
"Good work, old man!" said Tom admiringly, as he clapped Frank on
the shoulder.
"I'll tell the world so," agreed Bart enthusiastically.
"Gee, but my heart was in my mouth while I watched you," said
Billy.
"Have any trouble with the prisoners while I was gone?" asked
Frank.
"Not much," grinned Billy. "Redbeard tried to get up, but I handed
him a clip on the jaw and he sat down again."
"Drop!" shouted Bart suddenly. "Those fellows are getting ready to
fire."
They threw themselves flat on the snow, and a moment later some
bullets zipped over them.
"Looks as though they meant business," muttered Frank.
"Lucky that they haven't all got rifles," remarked Billy.
"Seems like the old Argonne days come again, only on a smaller
scale," remarked Tom. "Shall we let them have a taste of lead,
Frank? My finger's fairly itching to pull the trigger."
"Hold in a while, Tom," counseled Frank. "They have done that to
vent their spite. We're safe enough behind these oaks, and we
haven't any too much ammunition. If they show any signs of making
a rush, we'll let them have a volley."
"That's just what they're going to do," remarked Bart. "They know
they're four to one and they're going to take a chance."
"Five to one, really," answered Frank, "for Billy will have his
hands full in guarding the prisoners."
Another volley came at that minute, and several bullets embedded
themselves in the oaks. At the same moment, the Germans rushed
forward a few yards, taking shelter behind what trees they could
or throwing themselves behind hillocks of snow.
"They're in earnest," remarked Tom.
"All right," said Frank, and his fingers tightened on his rifle.
"Let them rush us. They'll get all that's coming to them."