THE TREATY SIGNED
It was a scene of wild confusion. Men jumped from their seats with
shouts and execrations. One man leaped for the electric switch to
turn out the light, but Frank reached him at a bound and felled
him to the floor. Pistols were drawn, but the doughboys knocked
them out of the conspirators' hands, and in a twinkling had the
men gripped and powerless.
The doctor crammed some papers into his mouth with the evident
intention of swallowing them, but Tom's sinewy hands were at his
throat and choked them out.
It was all over in a few moments. The surprise had been so great
that resistance was futile. The baffled conspirators stood huddled
together, disarmed, and under guard.
The doctor's rage was fearful as his eyes rested on Frank, for
whom he had cherished bitter enmity since their first encounter,
and who he felt instinctively was the cause of his undoing.
The lieutenant gave a few curt commands and the prisoners were led
out through the passage, secret no longer, and conveyed under
guard to American headquarters.
Here a number of leading American officers had gathered to await
the results of the raid. The prisoners were remanded for
examination on the morrow, with the exception of the doctor, who
was brought at once before the tribunal and sternly questioned.
At first he remained stubbornly silent, refusing to say a word.
Then the crumpled papers that he had attempted to swallow were
opened and read.
They proved to be the formulas relating to the deadly germs
contained in the phials. Step by step the process was described.
The proof was positive and overwhelming. But most important of all
was the setting down of the antidote that would neutralize the
effect of the germs.
The doctor's face during the reading of the papers was a study in
emotions. Rage, disappointment, hate succeeded one another. Upon
the faces of his judges the prevalent expression was one of
horror, tempered somewhat by the relief afforded by the knowledge
that the antidote was within their reach.
Being asked if he had anything to say, the doctor at last broke
his stubborn silence. Denial was impossible. The game was up.
There was nothing to gain by repressing his feelings, and he broke
out in a wild tirade.
Yes, he said, it was true that he had discovered and isolated this
deadly germ and had made numberless cultures of it to be spread
broadcast. He boasted of it. He gloried in it. He had already
killed many of the hated Americans, and if he had been given time
he would have swept the whole American Army of Occupation off the
face of the earth. It was true that he had not confined his
operations to the Americans alone. He had sought revenge on his
own cowardly countrymen who had yielded supinely and permitted the
Americans to occupy the fairest districts of Germany. He had
offered his deadly discovery to the German commanders before the
armistice was signed, but either through doubts of its value or
fear that their own troops would share in the contagion they had
refused to make use of it. Then his rage had turned against
countrymen and foes alike. Like Caligula, he had wished that the
whole human race had but a single head so that he might cut it off
with one blow. He would have done it, too, if this accursed young
American--
Here he made a savage lunge at Frank, and there was a terrific
struggle before he was overpowered by the guards. He fought with
the strength of a maniac, which indeed he was, for the wild rage
under which he labored had reached its climax in the overturning
of his reason. He was dragged away, struggling, fighting, and
foaming at the mouth.
There was unmeasured joy and relief at American headquarters that
night, for the shadow of the plague that had hung over the army
for months was lifted and the remedy was known. Frank and his
comrades came in for praise and commendation that made their faces
glow, and it was promised that promotion and crosses of honor
would be a reward and recognition of their splendid work.
And now the date had been set for the signing of the Peace Treaty.
Germany was at white heat in protest against the terms. She swore
that she would never sign. She raged like a wild beast that had
been caught in a trap. With characteristic treachery she sank the
interned fleet at Scapa Flow. A mob burned the French flags in
Berlin, of which the treaty demanded the surrender. Sign the
treaty? Never! Never!
The Americans were ready on the instant to march toward Berlin.
Twenty-four hours before the time set for signing, tanks,
airplanes, guns and men poured over the Rhine. If the Germans
wanted more fighting they could have it. If they did not sign the
treaty at Versailles, they would be compelled to sign it in
Berlin. The guns were ready to thunder, the men ready to charge.
The Germans saw those preparations and wilted. Their boasting
changed to whining.
On June the twenty-eighth they signed the treaty. _The war was
over_!
And when that night the booming of guns at Coblenz told that the
treaty had been signed, the Army Boys hugged each other in delight
at the knowledge that their work was done and that now they were
free to go back home!
"Hurrah!" cried Billy in wild jubilation.
"Back to the States!" shouted Bart.
"Three cheers for Old Glory!" exclaimed Tom.
"And a tiger," added Frank. "Well, fellows, our work is over. Our
boys came over here to! whip the Hun. They did it. They came over
to help win the war. They did it. The job is done, and now we Army
Boys can go back in triumph to God's country!"
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Army Boys on German Soil, by Homer Randall