TURNING THE TABLES
The lieutenant carefully disposed his men in the shelter of the
trees and waited.
It was growing a little lighter now that the dawn was beginning to
glimmer in the eastern sky.
In a little building at the side of the parade ground lights began
to show and figures could be seen passing to and fro. The bustle
increased as the moments passed until it could be surmised that
something unusual was on foot.
A file of men could be seen going through the dim street on the
further side of the building and passing into it by what was
evidently the front entrance. Then, after a while, groups of two
or three came out through the back door and hung about, smoking,
as though they were waiting until the business inside, whatever it
was, should be finished.
Most of the men had old German Army uniforms, but others were
dressed as civilians. One man wore an officer's cap, but if that
really indicated his rank, it was evident from the free and easy
way in which he mingled with the others that the old discipline of
the German Army had disappeared. The boys remembered that one
tenet of the Spartacides' creed was that officer and man should
stand on equal terms.
Presently a table was brought out by some men and placed on the
ground a little way away from the bottom of the steps. Following
this came three men who seemed to be in authority, and behind them
a number of prisoners, guarded by men with rifles.
It had grown lighter now, and a thrill went through the Army Boys
crouching in their covert as they saw that one of the prisoners
wore the American uniform. He was facing the men who sat at the
table, evidently his judges, and his back was toward the eyes that
were watching him so eagerly from the wood, but they knew in an
instant who it was.
It was Tom, dear old Tom, his form as erect, his bearing as
defiant as they had always known it! They knew that figure too
well to be mistaken. There was a constriction in their throats and
their hands gripped their rifles until it seemed as if their
fingers would bury themselves in the stocks.
They were at too great a distance to hear what was said, but it
was apparent that a trial of some kind was in progress. It might
have been that some of them had scruples about executing the
prisoners out of hand, and the form was observed in order to get
their assent to the bloody work that the majority had determined
on.
But that the trial was a mere form was evident from the hurried
way in which it was carried on. One by one, the prisoners, of whom
there seemed to be about a dozen, passed before the table, were
asked a few questions, and then dismissed to take their stand on
the other side. It was pitiful to note that one or two of the
prisoners were mere boys, while others were men well advanced in
years. One, who wore a velvet cap, seemed to be a person of
consequence, possibly an official of the town.
Not more than fifteen minutes had passed before all had gone
through this mockery of a trial. It was evident that their fate
was predetermined, for none was freed. All took their places
between the guards and awaited the next move of the men who held
in their hands the power of life and death.
During all this time the eyes of the Army Boys had been glued on
the one figure of their comrade. They had noted that of all the
prisoners he alone had his hands tied behind him. It filled them
with pride to see the undaunted way in which he had faced his
captors and the evident scorn with which he had heard his fate.
While some of the prisoners were weeping, others wringing their
hands, and others standing in an attitude of completest dejection,
he was apparently as self-possessed and unalarmed as though he had
been standing in front of the barracks at Ehrenbreitstein.
"Same old Tom!" whispered Frank to Bart. "The Germans never cowed
him yet."
"He's faced death too many times to fear it now," answered Bart,
with a catching of his breath. "They knew, too, what they were
about when they tied his hands."
"You bet they know what those hands can do," added Billy.
Two or three minutes elapsed while a dispute seemed to be going on
between the men seated at the table. Then, at a given signal, the
guards marshaled the prisoners in line and led them toward the
wall at the back of the parade ground.
The Army Boys were in a fever of apprehension.
"What's the lieutenant doing?" asked Bart impatiently. "Can't he
see that now's the time?"
"Don't worry," admonished Frank, though he himself was frantic
with the desire for action. "He knows what he's about."
The prisoners were lined up in a row about ten feet from the wall.
Then by a refinement of cruelty, spades were brought forward, and
the condemned men were bidden to dig their own graves. The guards
passed along the line, placing a spade in the hand of each and
telling them roughly what they were to do. They came to Tom and
saw that his hands were bound. There was hesitation and a moment's
colloquy between two of the guards, and then one of them drew his
knife and cut the cords while the other handed Tom a spade.
Tom took it.
The next instant he had whirled it over his head and brought it
down on the head of the guard nearest him. The man went down as if
shot. Spinning about, Tom sent the other guard down in a heap.
Then he hurled the improvised weapon into the ranks of the men's
comrades, who in wild excitement were bringing their rifles to
their shoulders, and broke like a deer toward the woods.
"Charge!" shouted Lieutenant Winter.
Never was order obeyed with more alacrity. Out of the woods came
rushing the men of the old Thirty-seventh, sending a hail of
bullets before them. Several of the German firing squad went down
at the first volley and the rest were overborne in the mad rush.
The scene was indescribable. There was a crackling of scattered
shots from the startled Germans. The men who had acted as judges
jumped to their feet in terror and tried to escape. Bullets
brought down one of them, a bayonet another, while the remaining
member of the trio was gripped and held none too gently by enraged
doughboys.
In a few minutes it was all over. The prisoners were placed under
guard and the Americans were recalled from the chase.
And in the midst of the Army Boys was Tom, panting, spent,
breathless, mauled and pounded by his rejoicing comrades, scarcely
able to believe in his good fortune--good old Tom, who once more
in his adventurous career had gone into the very jaws of death and
had come out unscathed!