THE CRITICAL MOMENT
For a time the Army Boys sat there, panting and gasping from their
unwonted exertions, yet filled with a deep thankfulness that they
had won through as well as they had.
At length Frank gave a short laugh that had in it little trace of
mirth.
"Three husky doughboys of the American Army put to flight by a
horde of rats!" he exclaimed.
"All the same, they'd be picking the bones of those same husky
doughboys if we hadn't vamoosed," defended Billy. "Gee! it seemed
to me that there must have been millions of them."
"I know now how that Bishop Hatto, or whoever it was, felt when
the rats were after him," put in Bart. "If we'd only had some
clubs with us we might have had a chance."
"Well, they made us show our backs, and that's something the Huns
were never able to do," said Frank. "But I guess we'd better get
back to the barracks and cauterize these bites. I don't know how
you fellows made out, but I'll bet they bit me in twenty places.
I'm bleeding fiercely."
"Same here," echoed Billy.
"I feel as though I were one big wound," said Bart lugubriously.
"But say, fellows, don't let on what we've been up against or the
boys will guy us to death."
"And to think we've been to all this trouble only to find that
we'd stumbled into a sewer," said Frank disgustedly. "That's what
it must have been, guessing by the smell."
"Oh by the way!" exclaimed Billy, as a thought struck him. "I
meant to tell you fellows, but the fight with the rats put it out
of my mind. There was an electric light in one of those passages."
Frank, who had gotten to his feet and started to walk away,
stopped as though he had been shot.
"What's that?" he demanded sharply.
"Fact," replied Billy. "I could see it plainly, and behind it I
saw the outline of a door. I started to tell you fellows about it,
and then I heard one of you shout and I didn't think of the thing
again till this blessed minute."
"Well, that certainly was hard luck!" exclaimed Frank bitterly.
"Ten to one that's the clue to the mystery. My hunch wasn't a
false alarm after all. I've a good mind to go back right now and
finish the job."
"Not on your life you won't!" said Bart decidedly. "Not if Billy
and I have to hold you back by main force. Why, boy, you're crazy.
Those rats have tasted blood, and they're full of fight. And then,
too, we haven't any clubs to beat them off. It would be sheer
suicide to go in there again to-night."
"Bart is right," acquiesced Billy. "Some other night perhaps when
we're in shape for it, but not now. Come along, old man, and use
your common sense."
Frank knew in his heart that his friends were right, but it galled
him horribly to defer the adventure.
"Well," he agreed reluctantly, "we'll call it a night's work and
let it go at that. But I'm only giving it on the promise that
we'll try it again. We've never let anything in Hunland get away
with us yet, and it's too late to start it now. If I live I'm
going to get to the bottom of this."
"Sure thing," agreed Bart. "We're just as keen to clear it up as
you are. But this isn't our lucky night. Let's light out for the
barracks and fix up these bites."
They made their way back and slipped in as unobtrusively as they
could, and after they had cauterized and dressed their wounds they
sought to forget their disappointment in sleep.
The next day found them stiff and sore, but this feeling wore off
as the day progressed, and when night came they forgot everything
in their eagerness to be on the march to hunt for their missing
comrade, who had hardly for a moment been out of their thoughts.
The plans for the expedition had been carefully mapped out. The
detachment was to travel by lanes and byroads as much as possible,
and under the cover of darkness they hoped to avoid observation
and comment. Their chief hope of success lay in taking the enemy
by surprise, and every precaution was observed to prevent any
miscarriage of their plans.
"Say, fellows, if we can only have the old scout with us by to-
morrow night!" exclaimed Frank, turning to his two comrades, his
eyes alight with eagerness.
"Wouldn't it be bully?" cried Bart.
"I'm betting that we shall," said Billy hopefully. "That is, if he
happens to be the prisoner that Dick was telling us about. Of
course that's only a guess."
The order came to fall in, and with Lieutenant Winter at the head
the expedition started out on its long hike. The men moved along
in loose formation, and all loud talking in the ranks or
unnecessary noise was put under the ban.
The night was clear and cold. There was no moon, for which the
boys were thankful. There were no cities along the route, and they
passed through the occasional scattered hamlets without attracting
much attention. Now and then a dog barked and at times a face
could be seen pressed against a window pane. Sometimes a
straggling figure was seen on the road, but at the sight of the
shadowy body of marching men it discreetly vanished into the
fields or woods at the side of the highway.
It was about four o'clock in the morning when they reached the
outskirts of the town that was their destination. The lieutenant
threw out a cordon of men to guard the roads and intercept any one
going to or coming from the place. No fires were built, though in
the bitter cold of the early morning they would have been
grateful. But the men submitted to this privation without
grumbling, and stood about stamping their feet and swinging their
arms to keep warm and munching the cold rations that they had
brought with them.
Within an hour three Germans had been brought in by the sentries.
Two of them were laborers who were coming from a neighboring
hamlet to their work in the town. The other had been intercepted
coming from the town on his way to take an early train at a
railroad station some three miles away.
The men were questioned by the lieutenant with the aid of an
interpreter. The laborers knew nothing, or, if they did, they were
too frightened by the sight of the armed men about them to answer
intelligently. They knew that there had been rioting in the town
and some people had been killed and wounded, but they had gone
along doing their work and had not been molested. They knew
nothing about any American prisoner. They were plainly what they
claimed to be and the questioning was not continued long.
The other man proved more intelligent and more communicative. Yes,
the Spartacides held possession of the town and the red flag was
flying from the town hall. The regular authorities had been
disarmed and were held as hostages by the rioters. There had been
a good deal of looting of shops and robbery of the homes of the
well-to-do.
As to there being any American among the prisoners or hostages, he
did not know. He had heard some rumors to that effect, but he had
not inquired, for in these days it was well not to show too much
curiosity, and he was a quiet man and wanted to keep out of
trouble.
The lieutenant was not satisfied that he had told all he knew, and
pressed the man further. Under questioning, at first persuasive
and then threatening, the man remembered that there had been a
meeting of the Spartacides the night before in which the matter of
disposing of the prisoners had been discussed. Some had been in
favor of executing them out of hand. Others had objected. He did
not know what decision had been reached.
Under pressure, he admitted that several executions had already
taken place. Where? At the parade ground. Where was that? Not ten
minutes walk from where they were now standing. Would he lead them
to it?
At this he demurred. He was a peaceful citizen. He did not want to
get tangled up in any political affair. He was strictly neutral.
The Spartacides would take his life.
A cold glint came into the lieutenant's eyes and his hand dropped
carelessly on the handle of his revolver. He toyed with it for a
moment. Was the man quite sure that he did not want to show him
where the parade ground was?
The man wilted on the instant. Certainly he would show them. He
would go that minute if the Herr Lieutenant was ready.
"Very well," said the lieutenant, and promptly gave the order that
the men should fall in line, and prepare to march.
In less than ten minutes they were at the designated spot. It was
a bleak, wind-swept space of ground, rectangular in shape, on the
edge of a stretch of wood. At the end of the grounds nearest the
woods there was a blank wall about ten feet high.
As he caught sight of the wall, Frank gave an involuntary shiver
that was not from cold.
"What's the matter?" asked Billy Waldon, looking curiously at his
companion.
"Nothing," replied Frank Sheldon, studiously avoiding his
comrade's eye.