Army Boys on the Firing Line Part 15

"Did you hear the question?"

"It was to frighten him," the lieutenant finally blurted out. "Anyway he was a spy and deserved to be hung. He had come into our lines in disguise."

The corporal motioned to Frank.

"Ask the girl again if she is sure the prisoner had on an American uniform," he directed.

Frank did so.

"_Oui, oui,_" she affirmed emphatically.

To make sure, Frank repeated the question to the farmer and his son and received the same answer.

He reported to the corporal.

"These people all say that the prisoner was not in disguise, Lieutenant," said Wilson. "Do you still wish to insist that he was?"

"Yes."

"That is enough," replied the corporal with quiet scorn. "Line up the prisoners, men," he commanded.

This was quickly done, and the homeward march commenced, but not until another search had been made for the missing captive of the Germans.

It had the same result as the previous one and the boys were full of questionings and forebodings as they marched back guarding their prisoners. But there were some elements of comfort in their perplexity.

In the first place, they had saved some American soldier, whether Tom or another, from a horrible death. Then, too, they had in their power the brute who had planned that death. It was not impossible, too, that, under further questioning of the lieutenant and his men at headquarters, more might be learned of what they wanted so badly to know.

Another subject of congratulation also was that the prisoner, if he had escaped, was not far from the American lines. He might find his way in at any time.

But there was one thing that bothered Frank considerably, and he mentioned it that night when he found himself alone with Bart and Billy.

"Do you remember the minute at the edge of the wood when the corporal gave the order to fix bayonets?" he asked.

"Sure thing," replied Bart. "What about it?"

"Just this," replied Frank. "At that minute I caught sight of a man running away from the farmhouse into the woods on the other side. I got the picture of him in my mind, but I didn't have time to think about it just then, for we were making a rush for the house. Then other things crowded it out of my mind altogether. But it came back to me on the way home this afternoon."

"What did the man look like and how was he dressed?" asked Billy eagerly.

"He had on an American uniform," replied Frank slowly, as he tried to make the picture clear in his own mind.

"Perhaps it was Tom!" cried Bart.

"No, it wasn't," said Frank positively. "The uniform was smart and newer than ours. Tom's must be in tatters and you remember the girl said it was. Then, too, I'd know Tom's gait among a thousand just as you would. No, it wasn't Tom, worse luck."

"Who was it, then?"

"I think it was Nick Rabig," replied Frank.

"Nick Rabig!" the others cried together.

"Mind, I only say I think," repeated Frank, looking around to see that no outsider was within hearing. "I wouldn't be willing to swear to it.

But the motions were Nick's--you know he runs like a cart horse--and you know that Nick has been togged out in a new uniform since he came back from that queer captivity of his among the Huns."

"Nick Rabig there," mused Bart perplexedly, as he began to pace up and down. "What on earth could he have been doing there?"

"Say," put in Billy with agitation, "could he have done anything to Tom? Suppose he went there, no matter for what purpose; suppose he found that German crowd dead to the world; suppose he found Tom upstairs bound and helpless. You know how Nick hated him."

"Keep cool, old man," counseled Frank, though there was a trace of anxiety in his own voice. "No, I don't think anything of that kind has happened. If it had we'd have found some traces of it. I think we can leave that out of our calculations."

"I'm only too glad to," said Billy. "But what was Nick's reason for being around that farmhouse anyway?"

"What have always been Nick's reasons for being where there are Germans, or where he expects there will be Germans?" said Bart.

"Suppose--just suppose--that Nick knew--had a tip, let us say--that a certain German lieutenant on a certain day would be in a certain place, ready to receive and pay for any information about the American forces that Nick had been able to gather. Do you get me?"

"I get you, all right," answered Frank, "and from what we know of Nick we've got a right to think so. Well, he didn't sell anything today anyway. He didn't find the German lieutenant in any condition to talk business."

The bugle blew for "taps" just then, and the conversation came to an end. And the two days that followed were so crowded with events that their own personal interests were thrust into the background.

For the great drive was coming, the drive for which they had been looking for months, looking not with fear but with eager antic.i.p.ation, their ardent young hearts aflame with the desire to fight to the death the enemies of civilization.

The weather had favored the enemy in his preparations. Usually at that time of the year the ground was soft and not fit for military operations on a grand scale. But the ground this year had dried out unusually early and was suitable for the bringing forward of men and guns.

There were all sorts of rumors afloat as to what the enemy had in store. There were said to be monster guns that could throw sh.e.l.ls more than seventy miles. There were new and diabolical inventions in the way of gas that were to cause unspeakable agonies to their victims.

There was talk of gigantic mirrors that would act as burning-gla.s.ses and blind the opposing troops.

Some of these things proved to be true. Others were mere lies, designed to sap the morale of the Allied armies and civil populations before the fight began.

"Heinie's the biggest b.o.o.b that ever happened," grinned Billy, when the boys were discussing the coming conflict. "He acts as if the Allies were a lot of children. He thinks that all he has to do is to dress up a bugaboo and we'll all roll over and play dead."

"He'll get something into that thick head of his after a while,"

predicted Frank. "It will have to be jabbed in, but there are a lot of us ready to do the jabbing."

"Let him bring on his bag of tricks," scoffed Bart. "When all's said and done, it's going to be man-stuff that will decide this war. And there's where we've got him on the hip. Man to man we're better stuff than the Huns. We know it and they know it. They can't stand before our bayonets."

"Right you are, old scout!" said Frank, enthusiastically, giving him a resounding slap on the back. "Let them bring on their old drive as soon as they like. They can begin the drive. We'll end it. And we'll end it in the streets of Berlin!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE STORM OF WAR

"Listen to that music," said Frank to his comrades the next morning, as a furious cannonade opened up that made the ground shake and filled the air with flying missiles of death.

"Too many ba.s.s notes in it to be real good music," remarked Billy with a grim.

"Maybe it's the overture just before the rising of the curtain,"