ON THE VERGE OF DISCOVERY
In view of the menacing situation and the black looks and muttered
curses that were thrown at the Americans who were policing the
city, military regulations were tightened. Leaves of absence were
either forbidden or greatly curtailed, and the Army Boys found
themselves confined to their barracks when not actually on
service. So the projected trip to the alley had to be deferred.
Weeks passed by and lengthened into months. Winter had disappeared
and spring had come, bringing with it soft breezes and verdant
fields and budding flowers and clothing the valley of the Rhine in
beauty.
It was a welcome change to the Army Boys, who had chafed over the
forced inaction and abstention from outdoor sports caused by the
severe winter. Now most of the time off duty was spent in the
open, and baseball and other games made the banishment from home
seem less of a hardship. Company teams were organized and there
was a good deal of healthy rivalry between the various nines. The
Army Boys were expert players, and the work they did on the
diamond speedily placed their nine in the lead.
But underneath all their work and fun lay the longing for home.
They were in an alien country, among a people that hated them, a
people bitter from defeat and eager for revenge.
They flung themselves down on the river bank one afternoon to rest
after an unusually exciting game of ball when they had just
managed to nose out their opponents in the ninth inning.
"Beautiful river, isn't it?" remarked Frank, his eyes following
the windings of the Rhine, visible there for many miles in either
direction.
"Oh, the country's pretty enough," conceded Bart grudgingly. "It's
the people in it that I object to."
"'Where every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile,'"
quoted Billy.
"I wish the Paris Conference would get busy and finish up that
treaty," observed Frank impatiently. "What in heck keeps them
dawdling so long over it?"
"It's like a sewing circle," grumbled Bart. "There's a lot of talk
and mighty little work done."
"We'll be doddering old men by the time they get through," added
Tom.
"Time seems to be no object with them," commented Billy.
"Of course," admitted Frank, "I suppose there's an awful lot to
do. The world's been ripped wide open by these pesky Huns, and
it's some job to sew it up again. Still it does seem that they
ought to hustle things a good deal more than they are doing. I'm
anxious to shake the dust of Germany from my feet forever."
"What's the latest you've heard about the peace terms?" Billy
inquired.
"Oh, Germany's going to get hers, all right," replied Frank
grimly. "She's had her dance, and now she's going to pay the
piper. She's going to lose her colonies, for one thing. She won't
have a single foot of land outside of Germany itself, and a lot of
that's going to be cut away from her, too. Alsace-Lorraine of
course goes back to France. Schleswig, that Bismarck stole, will
be given to Denmark. The Poles will get part of East and West
Prussia, Posen and Silesia. The coal mines in the Sarre Basin go
to France, to make up for the destruction of French coal mines at
Lens. Germany's got to give back ton for ton the shipping sunk by
her submarines. She must yield up all her aircraft, and can keep
an army of only one hundred thousand men. Then, too, she'll have
to fork over a little trifle of forty or fifty billion dollars, an
amount that will keep her nose to the grindstone for the next
thirty years. Oh, yes, Germany will pay the piper all right."
"It isn't enough," said Bart curtly.
"No," put in Billy. "She's getting off too easily. That's only
sticking a knife in hen. They ought to twist the knife around."
"Even with all that," declared Tom, "she won't begin to pay for
all the misery and death she caused. But what are they going to do
with the Kaiser?" he continued. "Have you heard about that?"
"Oh, they're talking about yanking him out of Holland and putting
him on trial," answered Frank; "but it's a gamble if they really
will. He's such a skulking cowardly figure just now that perhaps
it wouldn't be well to try him. It might dignify him too much,
make a martyr of him. They may let him and the Crown Prince stay
where they are. There's no telling."
"Well," remarked Tom, as they rose to their feet and started
toward the barracks, "whatever the terms, I only hope they'll
hurry them up and let us get back to the States."
A week of comparative quiet followed, and the situation in Coblenz
seemed to be well in hand. That is, as far as disturbances were
concerned. The mysterious disease, however, still seemed to be
uncurbed, despite all the efforts of the medical staff.
Military restrictions now were somewhat relaxed. Leaves of absence
were more easily obtained, but it was some time before the Army
Boys were able to arrange things so that all their leaves fell on
the same night.
That time came at last, however, and they started out soon after
nightfall with the determination once for all to solve the mystery
of the alley. The night was extremely dark, and as the moon would
not rise till late they had comparatively little difficulty in
seizing an opportunity when the street was practically deserted to
slip into the alley unobserved.
Their task was rendered easier by the fact that there was no
longer ice to hinder their raising of the trap door. It creaked
under the straining of their arms, but it yielded, and, using the
utmost caution, they descended into the yawning chasm.
They had provided themselves with stout sticks that they felt sure
would enable them to ward off any attack by rats, though they
devoutly hoped that these would not be needed. Nor were they, for
Billy's conjecture that the part infested by them was beyond the
lighted corridor proved correct.
With the stealth of Indians they moved along the narrow passage,
darting glances into every opening that seemed to branch off from
the main corridor. For some time nothing greeted their eyes but
impenetrable blackness, and they began to think that either the
light had been extinguished or that they had inadvertently passed
it by.
"Hist!" came from Billy's lips, and they halted.
"There it is," he said in a low tone.
They clustered about him as he pointed to the left. There, sure
enough, was the electric bulb glowing, and behind it the outline
of a door. Turning into the passage and inwardly thankful that as
yet no rats had been encountered, they made their way toward the
light.
The door, as revealed by the light, was of heavy oak. There was no
crack or crevice in it anywhere. Standing close to the door they
listened intently for any sound from the other side. Everything
was absolutely quiet. All that they could hear was their own
excited breathing.
Frank put his hand on the knob of the door and flashed a look of
mute inquiry at his comrades. They nodded understandingly, and
inch by inch Frank noiselessly drew the door open.
There was no light in the room beyond, but a ray from the electric
bulb outside fell on a row of bottles and retorts that indicated a
chemical laboratory.
Frank had drawn his flashlight from his section pocket and was
about to turn it upon the room, when suddenly the room became
radiant with a perfect flood of light. At the same time there was
the sound of a quick step in the hall beyond the room, the click
of a door knob, and Frank had just time to push the heavy oaken
door nearly to, when the further door opened and a man came into
the room.
Through the crack of the door Frank caught a glimpse of the man's
face and started back in surprise.