Army Boys in the French Trenches Part 20

The time dragged on interminably in their narrow quarters. They tried to sleep, but though they were very tired after their strenuous day, the novelty and discomfort of their position kept them on edge.

The daylight finally vanished from the little opening in the floor above and the darkness became absolute. They had matches in their kits, but they feared to use them lest some prowling sentry might see the light through some rift in the masonry.

The roar of the heavy artillery had died down, though the guns still gave out an occasional challenge. The fighting for the day was evidently at an end. But there had been no clash in the streets of the ruined town to betoken the arrival of the Allied forces. However they might have fared in other parts of the battlefield, the town itself had not been wrested from the Germans. In all probability the boys were still in the midst of their enemies.

"Another night as well as a day to stay in this shebang," remarked Tom when the hope of immediate rescue had failed them.

"Oh, well, to-morrow's a new day," said Frank. "A lot may happen between now and to-morrow night. Our grub will hold out till then anyway, and if nothing better turns up we'll make a dash and try to reach our lines."

He had scarcely stopped speaking when there was a loud clattering in the street as though a cavalry troop were pa.s.sing through.

"Perhaps those are our men now!" exclaimed Billy jubilantly.

"Perhaps," a.s.sented Frank. "And they seem to be coming this way."

The pace of the horses died down as they neared the house, and they finally stopped just before it. The boys could hear the troopers dismount and a moment later they heard footsteps on the floor above.

They listened intently. Would the first words they heard be English or German? If the first it would mean a boisterous shout to the men above and a hasty and joyful scramble out of their prison. If the second, it would mean that they were in imminent danger of capture or death.

A light filtered down through the hole where the stovepipe had been.

Somebody above had struck a match. But he had evidently burned his fingers as he did so, for the light went out and there was an impatient exclamation.

"_Donnerwetter_!"

Just one word, but it made the hearts of the listening boys go down into their boots.

For it was a German who just then struck a second match and lighted a candle, and it was a German cavalry troop whose horses stood before the door.

But for what purpose had they entered the house? Were they in search of the boys? Had any one seen them entering the house and given information?

"Be ready, fellows," whispered Frank. "It looks as if we were in for a sc.r.a.p."

They clutched their rifles firmly to be ready for whatever might happen.

But it was not long before they realized that this sudden irruption had nothing to do with them. What seemed to be a bench or a table was dragged across the floor and one or more candles placed upon it. There seemed to be half a dozen or more officers in the room, and they were soon engaged in an earnest conversation.

"I never thought much of the German language," whispered Bart to Billy, "but I'd give a farm to understand it now."

"If Frank only knew German as well as he does French," responded Billy, "we might pick up something that our officers would give a lot to know."

For perhaps half an hour the raucous tones above continued. The debate was at times an angry one and was punctuated by the sound of fists brought heavily down on a table. Just after one of these, the stovepipe hole was dimmed by something that shut off the light from the room above. It floated down with a slight rustle and the boys could see that it was a paper of some kind.

In an instant Frank had crept across and grabbed the paper, thrusting it into the bosom of his shirt. Then he moved swiftly back to the shelter of the barricade.

"That was taking a chance, old boy," whispered Bart, as his friend resumed his place among them. "If you'd knocked against anything and the Huns had heard you, they'd have been down here in a jiffy."

"I suppose it was a little risky," returned Frank, "but we've got to take risks sometimes, and it struck me that there might be something in that paper that our officers would like to know."

Just then Billy, in trying to get in a less cramped position, knocked against one of the rifles that had been stood in a corner. It fell against one of the barrels with a clatter that in the confined place and the tense state of the boys' nerves sounded to them like thunder.

Frank grabbed it before it could fall on the cellar floor, but it seemed as though the mischief must have been done, and their hearts were in their mouths as they listened for anything that might indicate that the sound had been heard on the floor above.

But the debate had reached a lively stage just at that moment, and the incident attracted no attention, so that after two minutes more of strained listening the boys were a.s.sured that they had come off scot free from what might have been a disaster.

"This is sure no place for a man with heart disease," murmured Tom, and his comrades unanimously agreed with him.

The conference in the room above had come to an end, as was shown by the shuffling of feet as the men rose from the table. There was a sound as of a sheaf of papers being hastily gathered together. But there was no outcry to indicate that any one of them was missing, and the boys drew a long breath and relaxed their grasp on their rifles. There would be no search, and for the moment they were safe.

The lights above were extinguished and the party went out. The horses clattered away, and once more the house and the town were as still as the grave.

"So near and yet so far," murmured Frank, when he was sure that the last of the unwelcome visitors had departed.

"That was what you might call too close for comfort," grinned Billy.

"They wouldn't have done a thing to us if they had nabbed us," declared Bart. "We wouldn't have had a Chinaman's chance. No prison camp for ours! They'd have shot us down like dogs! They'd have reasoned that we had heard their military plans, and that would have been all the excuse they wanted."

"Not that they would care whether they had the excuse or not," said Billy. "The mere fact that a German wants to do anything makes it all right to do it."

"How they'd froth at the mouth if they knew Frank had that paper,"

remarked Tom. "I wonder what it is."

"It has a seal on it and it feels as if it were heavy and official,"

replied Frank. "I don't want to strike a match now, but I'll take a squint at it when daylight comes. Probably it's in German, and if it is I can't read it. But they'll read it at headquarters all right, and it may queer some of Heinie's plans."

They conversed in whispers a little while longer, and then made ready to go to sleep. Their preparations were not extensive, and consisted chiefly in finding a place where no sharp edge of stone bored into the small of their backs. But they were too tired to be critical, and after putting away the food in a corner and arranging to stand watch turn and turn about they soon forgot their troubles in sleep.

When they awoke the light shining through the hole in the floor told them that it was day.

"Time you fellows opened your eyes," remarked Tom, who had been standing the last watch. "If you hadn't I'd have booted you awake anyway, for you were snoring loud enough to bring the whole German army down on you."

"I'd hate to call you an out and out prevaricator, Tom," remarked Billy, rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his tumbled hair, "so I'll simply say that you use the truth with great economy. Suppose you bring me my breakfast. I think I'll eat it in bed this morning."

He dodged the shoe that Tom threw at his head and rose laughingly to his feet.

"Mighty bad manners the people have at this hotel," he remarked, "but since you feel that way about it I'll take my grub any way I can get it.

Haul it out from that corner, Bart, and let's have a hack at it. I'm hungry enough to eat nails this morning."

Bart needed no second request, for he was quite as hungry as his mates.

But when he picked up the canvas wrapper in which the food had been stored he dropped it with a startled exclamation.

"What's the matter?" cried Frank.

"Matter enough," replied Bart. "The bag's empty. There isn't a blessed thing in it."

The others rushed him under the light that came from above and examined the wrapper with sinking hearts. What Bart had said was true. Not a crumb was left.

There was no mystery about it. The gnawed and tattered holes in the bag told their own story. It was summed up in the one word that came from their lips simultaneously. "Rats!"

Their four-footed enemies had perhaps brought them nearer capture than their human enemies had been able to do.