Ruth Fielding at the War Front Part 17

"You saw him after he left here!" exclaimed the countess. "I do not understand."

The girl saw she would have to go into particulars. But she did not tell the countess she had taken her trip to the field hospital with the secret agent, M. Lafrane.

"Dear me! That was so like him," the countess observed when she had heard the story of Aunt Abelard and her pullets. "His brother, too----"

"Is Count Allaire like his brother?" Ruth asked quietly.

"Yes. In many ways."

"I have never seen a picture of the count, have I?" the American girl pursued.

"But, yes! You have but to look at Henri," laughed the countess. "A little older. Perhaps a little more serious of expression. But the same tall, slim, graceful figure, both. Pardon my pride in my sons, Mademoiselle. They are my all now. And they are both like me, I believe," she added softly.

Ruth looked at her with luminous eyes.

"Like you in every way, Madame? Given so entirely to the service of their country?"

"But yes! Too recklessly patriotic, I fear," said the countess. Then, with a start, she exclaimed: "What is this? Do my eyes deceive me? Is it that wicked Bubu, running wild and free again?"

Ruth turned quickly. Crossing the wide lawns she saw the greyhound pa.s.s swiftly. He was without his blanket, and it seemed to Ruth as though the barrel of his body was much lighter of color than his chest and legs. Like a flash he was behind the chateau.

"_Ma foi_!" gasped the countess. "What is---- Something----"

She started to follow the dog. As she still clung to Ruth's arm the girl must perforce go with her. Through Ruth's mind was swirling a mult.i.tude of suspicious thoughts.

CHAPTER XVI

THE HOLLOW TOOTH

Bubu had been running at large--and in the daytime. He had come from the north. Ruth believed the dog had crossed the lines and just now had arrived at the chateau after his long and perilous journey.

Yet for a greyhound the fifteen or twenty kilometers between the chateau and the battle front was a mere nothing. At the rate the girl had seen the "werwolf" flying over the fields, he must have covered that distance faster than an automobile. And, too, he would take a route much more direct.

The countess seemed to have forgotten Ruth's presence; but the girl could not well draw her arm away and remain behind. Besides, she was desperately eager to know what would be done to Bubu, or with him, now that he had returned to the chateau. It was not unwillingly that the girl accompanied the countess.

It was some distance around the great building to the rear. They came upon the excited Dolge and the big dog, the latter lapping water out of a pan near the well house.

"_Non_! _non_!" cried the countess warningly. "Not that, Dolge. He must not be allowed too much cold water after his so-exciting run. It is not good for him."

The gardener stooped to take the pan away, and the greyhound growled.

"Oh, la, la!" mumbled Dolge. "Name of a mouse! Would you butcher me, you of b.l.o.o.d.y mind?"

Ruth noticed that the barrel of the greyhound was almost white, which a.s.sisted in giving him that ghostly appearance at night.

The countess left Ruth and hurried forward. She did not stoop, but with her foot she straightway overturned the pan, sending the water out on the stones.

The dog looked up at her, wide-mouthed and with tongue hanging. But he did not offer to molest her. He only dropped his head again, and with his pink tongue sought to lap up the moisture from the stones.

"The collar, Dolge," commanded Madame la Countess.

The old man hobbled forward with the wide leather strap attached to the chain. The strap was decorated with big bra.s.s rivet heads. She buckled it around the neck of the panting dog. He lapped her hands.

"Ah, naughty one," she murmured, "would you run the fields like a wild dog? The blanket, Dolge. He may take cold."

Already the gardener was bringing the covering. They fastened it about Bubu, who finally shook himself and would have lain down had not the countess said sharply:

"Nay, nay! All is not yet finished, Bubu. Open thy mouth--so!"

She forced open the big dog's jaws. Rather, at a touch he allowed her to hold his dripping jaws apart.

"Dolge!" she demanded decisively, "can you see?"

"_Oui, oui, Madame_!" the old man chattered, shaking his head vigorously. "But not for me will he keep his jaws apart. I am not to be made into sausage-meat, I hope?"

The countess laughed at him. "Hold his mouth open, then. He would not desire to bite; but----"

Ruth, amazed, saw her white fingers fumble inside the dog's open maw.

She pulled what seemed to be a white rubber cap from one of his grinders. Quickly and skilfully, with a fine knitting needle, the countess ripped from this rubber casing what the girl thought looked like a twist of oiled paper.

"All right, my good Dolge. You may let him go," she said, hiding the twist of paper in her palm. "Let him rest--poor fellow!"

She patted the greyhound with the sole of her slipper and the big dog yawned; then laid his head upon his paws. He was still panting, his sides heaving heavily. His legs and feet were bedaubed with mud.

"He has come a long way," the countess said coolly to Ruth. "Let us go in, Mademoiselle. It must be that our tea is ready."

She seemed to consider Ruth quite worthy of her confidence. The American girl knew that she was on the verge of an important discovery.

It could not be that Bubu carried messages to Germany to give aid and comfort to the enemy! That suspicion was put to rest.

Bubu was being used to bring news from French spies across the battle lines. Otherwise the countess would never have allowed Ruth to discover this mystery of the "werwolf."

And how shrewd was the method followed in the use of the obedient dog!

A hollow tooth, which would be overlooked even if the enemy shot and examined the animal.

Ruth wanted to ask a hundred questions; but she did not open her lips It might be that the countess supposed she was already aware of the use made of Bubu, and how he was used. The American girl had been brought to the chateau by Monsieur Lafrane, the agent of the French secret service bureau. And the countess knew, of course, his business.

As soon as they were in the library, where the tea things were laid, the countess proceeded to smooth out the bit of paper and examine it under a strong reading gla.s.s.

"Ah!" she cried, in a moment, her smooth cheeks flushing and her eyes brightening. "He is well! My dear boy!"

Her joy urged Ruth to question her, yet the girl hesitated. Her eyes, however, revealed to the countess her consuming curiosity.

"Mademoiselle!" exclaimed the old lady, "do you not _know_?"

"I--I don't know what you mean, Madame," stammered Ruth.

"It is from the count--my Allaire!"