The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields Part 29

With this discreet plan of action rapidly forming in his mind, Rob was even in the act of hastily drawing both his chums back behind a wall until all the excitement had subsided, when he made a discovery that brought his scheme to a halt.

It was, after all, only a pony that had been seized with an attack of blind staggers, and was now dashing frantically away, with a little basket-cart dragging back and forth at his heels; but in that cart Rob saw was a frightened child.

In that moment, Rob struggled with a grave question. To show themselves before a crowd such as would likely gather, was full of danger, not only to themselves, but for their mission as well. At the same time there was a something within his soul that refused to avoid the responsibility by shutting his eyes.

He could not do it. He knew that child was in deadly peril, for, small as the pony might be, just then he was acting like a little demon. If he allowed the runaway to go by, and something dreadful happened, how could he ever reconcile his action with his vows as a true-blue scout?

So Rob's mind was made up.

"Merritt, we must save that poor little child, come what will!" he exclaimed; and that loyal comrade, forgetting all else for humanity's sake, instantly cried:

"We will, Rob! Hurry and get on one side, while I look out for the other!"

CHAPTER XXVII.

CONCLUSION.

"Where do I come in? Won't you let me help?" bawled Tubby, hurrying after his two chums as fast as his fat legs would carry him.

Neither of the others paid the slightest attention to him. Just then Tubby was about as useless as a fifth wheel to a wagon. He was so clumsy that if he attempted to take a hand in the rescue work the chances were Rob and Merritt would have to spend a portion of their time in saving him.

They ran out into the middle of the road. The crazy little pony was already close up, and there was no time to be lost.

"Now!" shouted Rob. "Nab him, and throw him if you can!"

Both scouts fastened upon the bridle close to the bit. Every ounce of muscle the boys possessed was brought to bear, supplemented by all the shrewdness they had acquired upon the football field, in tackling and throwing the runner who held the coveted pigskin oval.

There was something of a struggle, and then down went the frantic pony.

"Hey! let me sit on him; I'll keep him quiet!" called Tubby, as he came panting up to the spot; and once he had deposited his extra weight upon the little beast, it had no other course open but to succ.u.mb to circ.u.mstances and lie quiet.

Rob turned to see what had become of the child. There was a stout, red-faced man, coming on the run as fast as he could hurry. Undoubtedly it was his child. While he was in a store, the pony probably had been taken with a sudden seizure of what Rob called "blind staggers," which sometimes causes horses to dash madly away as though possessed of an evil spirit, and even to destroy themselves against any barrier that arises in their path.

The child, though crying with fright, was apparently unhurt. Some one had taken her from the basket-cart, and should the pony have broken loose again, it could not have imperiled the little one.

In another minute, the red-faced man was hugging his child, and covering her face with kisses. The people must have told him who had saved his darling, for he came up to Rob and Merritt. (The pony had now become quite calm, though Tubby continued to occupy his seat, for, as he afterwards said, "he knew a good thing when he found it; and he was _awful_ tired.")

The big stout man, evidently a German, from his appearance and language, began to pour out his thanks; but Rob shook his head as he remarked:

"None of us can speak German, sir. We are American boys, you see; I can understand a little French, but that is all."

The man's face lighted up. He immediately seized Rob by the hand and commenced to kiss him on the cheeks; but the boys had learned that this was the common method of warm salutation abroad, even among men, though they had never seen it done across the water.

"I am glad you are American and not English!" the other went on to cry.

"I would be sorry, indeed, if I owed the life of my little Frieda to an English boy. But an American, it is quite different. Ach! what would I not do to show you how grateful I am for your brave act? Tell me, can I not do something to prove that in Germany we look upon your country as our friends? My name it is Herr Frederick Haskins, I am the princ.i.p.al owner of the chemical works over yonder. Let me be your host while in Sempst you stay. It would give me much pleasure, I a.s.sure you."

Rob stared at Merritt, and the latter almost held his breath. Was there ever such great luck as this? They had saved a child from danger, and made a warm friend of her father, who had turned out to be the proprietor of the very factory where Steven Meredith had an interest outside of his occupation as a secret agent of the Kaiser.

"Rob, ask him!" whispered Merritt, too overcome himself to find words in which to give utterance to what was weighing so heavily on his mind.

So the patrol leader, mastering his inclination to feel just as "shaky"

as Corporal Crawford, turned again toward the red-faced German chemist.

"We might accept your kind offer of entertainment for to-night, Herr Haskins," he said, as though they took the man's sincerity for its face value, "because we will have to put up somewhere, though to-morrow it may be we shall want to start back toward Antwerp again. You said that you were the proprietor of the chemical company in town. Are those the works where the smoke is coming out of the stacks?"

The man nodded. He held his little girl in his arm, as though he could not bear to let her be away from him again. A look of what seemed to be pride crept over his face; it meant something that his was the only factory that had been kept running, simply because his foreign hands did not have to go when the call to the Belgian colors came.

"It is because I have the confidence of the German government that I am allowed to continue my works," he said in a low tone, as though not wishing others to hear what he was saying.

"It is very strange," continued Rob, bound to learn the worst immediately, now that such a golden opportunity had come along, "but it was to see a man connected with your business that we came all the way from Antwerp. His name is Mr. Steven Meredith, who was over in America not so many months ago."

It was apparent that they were going to meet with a keen disappointment; Rob knew this the second he saw the shade of regret pa.s.s over the rubicund face of Herr Haskins.

"Ah! that is really too bad," the stout man exclaimed; "for you are just one week too late!"

"Has he left Sempst, then?" asked Merritt st.u.r.dily.

"Just seven days ago he shook hands with me, and said I could look for him when I saw him again. That might be in a month, and it might be six, even Steven could not say. He simply had to obey his orders from his superiors. His interest in the works is not the only thing he follows, you understand."

"No," said Rob, mysteriously, looking carefully around, as though he wanted to make sure he was not overheard, "of course we know his other business. The General Staff has ordered him again on duty somewhere. It is too bad, because my friend here wishes to see Herr Meredith very much, indeed."

"I am sorry," remarked the stout man, in a hesitating way, and Rob knew that if he hoped to get any information from this source at all now was the time to strike--while the iron was hot.

"You say you are grateful, sir," he hurriedly whispered, "because we happened to save your little girl's life, or at least kept her from being badly injured. We would call the debt canceled if you could tell us where we can find Herr Meredith. If he is in France, tell us where."

The man did not immediately reply. His face was a study. He was undoubtedly being torn between grat.i.tude and devotion to the interests of his emperor, whom he would have died to serve, no doubt.

"If I could only be sure it was right for me to give you that information," Rob heard him mutter, and he hastened to follow up his attack.

"I give you my word of honor, Herr Haskins," he said earnestly and convincingly, "that none of us has the slightest intention to betray Steven Meredith to his enemies. If you write down the information we need, we solemnly promise you not to use it to his injury. My friend only wants to get a small thing Herr Meredith has with him, although he himself does not know it is in his possession, for it was all a mistake about his taking it. He will be only too glad to give it to us, and we shall trouble him no more. Won't you take our word of honor, sir?"

The big man looked down at his child, and that must have decided him.

"Come home with me, and spend the night," he said in a hospitable way.

"We will entertain you the best we can under the peculiar conditions existing here. If you care to, you can tell me all about yourselves; and I promise you that before you go to sleep this night I will place in your possession an address in Northern France where you will likely find my partner, _under another name_. But you must swear to me that under no conditions will you imperil his position there. Is it a bargain, my boys?"

Rob looked at Merritt. The latter, although terribly disappointed, was still game. He gave not the slightest sign of submitting to the decrees of a cruel Fate.

"We will accept your hospitality, Herr Haskins," he said quietly, "and also take from you that address under the promise you ask. Steven Meredith has no reason to fear that we will betray him. We are Americans, and our President has asked that every one, old and young, remain strictly neutral while this war is going on."

"We bound up the wounds of three times as many Germans after the battle as we did Belgians," Rob added, while Tubby was heard to mutter under his breath:

"Which was because there were ten times as many Germans hurt as there were of the brave little Belgian army."