The Boy Scout Aviators Part 9

said Harry. "They'd give everything away, and we probably wouldn't accomplish anything except to put them on their guard. I vote we wait until dark and try to find out what we can by ourselves. It's risky but even if they catch us, I don't think we need to be afraid of their doing anything."

"I'm with you," said d.i.c.k. "We'll do whatever you say."

They spent the rest of the afternoon scouting around the neighboring country on their motorcycles, studying the estate from the roads that surrounded it. Bray Park, it was called, and it had for centuries belonged to an old family, which, however, had been glad of the high rent it had been able to extract from the rich American who had taken the place.

What they saw was that the grounds seemed to be surrounded, near the wall, by heavy trees, which made it difficult to see much of what was within. But in one place there was a break, so that, looking across velvety green lawns, they could see a small part of an old and weatherbeaten grey house. It appeared to be on a rise, and to stand several stories above the ground, so that it might well be an ideal place for the establishment of a heliograph station.

But Harry's suspicions were beginning to take a new turn.

"I believe this is the biggest find we've made yet, d.i.c.k," he said. "I think we'll find that if we discover what is really going on here, we'll be at the end of our task--or very near it. It's just the place for a headquarters."

"I believe it is, Harry. And if they've been so particular to keep everything about it secret, it certainly seems that there must be something important to hide," suggested Harry, thinking deeply. "I think I'll write a letter to Colonel Throckmorton, d.i.c.k. I'll tell him about this place, and that we're trying to get in and find out what we can about it. Then, if anything happens to us, he'll know what we were doing, and he will have heard about this place, even if they catch us.

I'll post it before we go in."

"That's a splendid idea, Harry. I don't see how you think of everything the way you do."

"I think it's because my father's always talking about how one ought to think of all the things that can go wrong. He says that's the way he's got along in business is by never being surprised by having something unfortunate happen, and by always trying to be ready to make it as trifling as it can be."

So Harry wrote and posted his letter, taking care to word it so that it would be hard for anyone except Colonel Throckmorton to understand it.

And, even after having purposely made the wording rather obscure, he put it into code. And, after that, he thought of still another precaution that might be wise. "We won't need the credentials we've got in there tonight, d.i.c.k," he said. "Nor our copies of the code, either. We'll bury them near where we leave our motorcycles. Then when we get out we can easily get them back, and if we should be caught they won't be found on us. Remember, if we are caught, we're just boys out trespa.s.sing. Let them think we're poachers, if they like."

But even Harry could think of no more precautions after that, and they had a long and tiresome wait until they thought it was dark enough to venture within the walls.

Getting over the wall was not difficult. They had thought they might find broken gla.s.s on top, but there was nothing of the sort. Once inside, however, they speedily discovered why that precaution was not taken--and also that they had had a remarkably narrow escape. For scarcely had they dropped to the ground and taken shelter when they saw a figure, carrying a gun, approaching. It was a man making the rounds of the wall. While they watched he met another man, also armed, and turned to retrace this steps.

"They've got two men, at least--maybe a lot more, doing that," whispered Harry. "We've got to find out just how often he pa.s.ses that spot. We want to know if the intervals are regular, too, so that we can calculate just when he'll be there."

Three times the man came and went, while they waited, timing him. And Harry found that he pa.s.sed the spot at which they had entered every fifteen minutes. That was not exact for there was a variation of a minute or so, but it seemed pretty certain that he would pa.s.s between thirteen and seventeen minutes after the hour, and so on.

"So we'll know when it's safe to make a dash to get out," said Harry.

"The first thing a general does, you know, is to secure his retreat. He doesn't expect to be beaten, but he wants to know what he can live to fight another day if he is."

"We've got to retreat, haven't we?" asked d.i.c.k. "It wouldn't do us any good to stay here."

"That's so. But we've got to advance first. Now to get near that house, and see what we can find. Look out for those traps and things our friend warned us of. It looks like just the place for them. And keep to cover!"

They wormed their way forward, often crawling along. Both knew a good deal about traps and how they are set, and their common sense enabled them to see the most likely places for them. They kept to open ground, avoiding shrubbery and what looked like windfalls of branches. Before they came into full view of the house they had about a quarter of a mile to go. And it was an exciting journey.

They dared not speak to one another. For all about, though at first they could see nothing, there was the sense of impending danger. They felt that unseen eyes were watching, not for them, perhaps, but for anyone who might venture to intrude and pa.s.s the first line. Both of the scouts felt that they were tilting against a mighty force, that the organization that would perfect, in time of peace. Such a system of espionage in the heart of the country of a possible enemy, was of the most formidable sort.

They stopped, at last, at the edge of the clump of thick, old trees that seemed to surround the place. Here they faced the open lawn, and Harry realized that to try to cross it was too risky. They would gain nothing by being detected. They could find out as much here by keeping their eyes and ears open, he thought, as by going forward, when they were almost sure to be detected.

"We'll stay here," he whispered to d.i.c.k, cautiously. "d.i.c.k, look over there--to the left of the house. You see where there's a shadow by that central tower? Well, to the left of that. Do you see some wires dangling there? I'm not sure."

"I think there are," whispered d.i.c.k, after a moment in which he peered through the darkness. d.i.c.k had one unusual gift. He had almost a savage's ability to see in the dark, although in daylight his sight was by no means out of the ordinary.

"Look!" he said, again, suddenly. "Up on top of the tower! There is something going up there--it's outlined against that white cloud!"

Harry followed with his eyes and d.i.c.k was right. A long, thin pole was rising, even as they looked on. Figures showed on the roof of the tower.

They were busy about the pole. It seemed to grow longer as they watched.

Then, suddenly, the dangling wires they had first noticed were drawn taut, and they saw a cross-piece on the long pole. And then, with a sudden rush of memory, Harry understood.

"Oh! We have struck it!" he said. "I remember now--a portable, collapsible wireless installation! I've wondered how they could use wireless, knowing that someone would be sure to pick up the signals and that the plant would be run down. But they have those poles made in sections--they could hide the whole thing. It takes very little time to set them up. This is simply a bigger copy of what they use in the field.

We've got to get out!"

He looked at his watch.

"Carefully, now," he said. "We've just about got time. That sentry must be just about pa.s.sing the place where we got over the wall now. By the time we get there he'll be gone, and we can slip out. We've got everything we came for, not that we've seen that!"

They started on the return journey through the woods. More than ever there seemed to be danger about them. And suddenly it reached out and gripped them--gripped Harry, at least. As he took a step his foot sank through the ground, as it seemed. The next moment he had all he could do to suppress a cry of agony as a trap closed about his ankle, wrenching it, and throwing him down.

"Go on!" he said to d.i.c.k, suppressing his pain by a great effort.

"I won't leave you!" said d.i.c.k. "I-"

"Obey orders! Don't you see you've go to go? You've got to tell them about the wireless--and about where I am! Or else how am I to get away?

Perhaps if you come back quickly with help they won't find me until you come! Hurry--hurry!"

d.i.c.k understood. And, with a groan, he obeyed orders, and went.

CHAPTER VII

A CLOSE SHAVE

Probably d.i.c.k did not realize that he was really showing a high order of courage in going while Harry remained behind, caught in that cruel trap and practically in the hands of enemies who were most unlikely to treat him well. In fact, as he made his way toward the wall, d.i.c.k was reproaching himself bitterly.

"I ought to stay!" he kept on saying to himself over and over again. "I ought not to leave him so! He made me go so that I would be safe!"

There had been no time to argue, or Harry might have been able to make him understand that it was at least as dangerous to go as to stay--perhaps even more dangerous. d.i.c.k did not think that there was at least a chance that every trap was wired, so that springing it would sound an alarm in some central spot. If that were so, as Harry had fully understood, escape for d.i.c.k would be most difficult and probably he too would be captured.

"I'm such a coward!" d.i.c.k almost sobbed to himself, for he was frightened, though, it must be said, less on his account than at the thought of Harry. Yet he did not stop. He went on resolutely, alone, as he got used to the idea that he must depend on himself, without Harry to help him in any emergency that arose, his courage returned. He stopped, just as he knew Harry would have done, several feet short of the wall.

His watch told him that he had time enough to make a dash, had several minutes to spare, in fact. But he made sure.

And it was well that he did. For some alarm had been given. He heard footsteps of running men, and in a moment two men, neither of them the one they knew as the sentry, came running along the wall. They carried pocket flashlights, and were examining the ground carefully. d.i.c.k sensed at once what they meant to do, and shrank into the shelter of a great rhododendron bush. He was small for his age, and exceptionally lissome and he felt that the leaves would conceal him for a few moments at least. He was taking a risk of finding a trap in the bush, but it was the lesser of the two evils just then. And luck favored him. He encountered no trap.

Then one of the men with flashlights gave a cry that sounded to d.i.c.k just like the note of a dog that has picked up a lost scent. The lights were playing on the ground just where they had crossed the wall.

"Footsteps, Hans!" said the man. "Turned from the wall, too! They have gone in, but have not come out."

"How many?" asked the other man, coming up quickly.

"Two, I think--no more," said the discoverer. "Now we shall follow them."

d.i.c.k held his breath. If they could follow the footsteps--and there was no reason in the world to hope that they could not!--they would be bound to pa.s.s within a foot or two of his hiding-place. And, as he realized, they would, when they were past him, find the marks of his feet returning. They would know then that he was between them and the wall. He realized what that would mean. Bravely he nerved himself to take the one desperate chance that remained to him. They were far too strong for him to have a chance to meet them on even terms, all he could hope for was an opportunity to make use of his light weight and his superior speed. He knew that he could move two feet, at least, to their one. And so he waited, crouching, until they went by. The light flashed by the bush, for some reason, it did not strike it directly. That gave him a respite. Fortunately they were looking for footprints, not for their makers.