Book: Facing the German Foe

C >> Colonel James Fiske >> Facing the German Foe




"Speak English, dummer kerl!" he exclaimed, angrily. "These English people
have not much sense, but if a passerby should hear us speaking German, he
would be suspicious. Our words he cannot hear and if they are in English he
will think all is well."

"This is one of those we heard of this afternoon," said the driver. "This
Boy Scout. The other is riding to London--but he will not go so far."

He laughed at that, and Dick, knowing he was speaking of Harry, shuddered.

"Ja, that is all arranged," said the leader, with a chuckle. "Not for
long--that could not be. But we need only a few hours more. By this time
to-morrow morning all will be done. He comes, Von Wedel?"

"We got the word to-night--yes," said the other man. "All is arranged for
him. Ealing--Houndsditch, first. There are the soldiers. Then Buckingham
Palace. Ah, what a lesson we shall teach these English! Then the buildings
at Whitehall. We shall strike at the heart of their empire--the heart and
the brains!"

Dick listened, appalled. Did they think, then, that he, a boy, could not
understand? Or were they so sure of success that it did not matter? As a
matter of fact, he did not fully understand. Who was Von Wedel? What was he
going to do when he came? And how was he coming?

However, it was not the time for speculation. There was the chance that any
moment they might say something he would understand, and, moreover, if he
got away, it was possible that he might repeat what he heard to those who
would be able to make more use of it.

Just then the leader's foot touched Dick, and he drew away. The German
looked down at him, and laughed.

"Frightened?" he said. "We won't hurt you! What a country! It sends its
children out against us!"

His manner was kindly enough, and Dick felt himself warming a little to the
big man in spite of himself.

"Listen, boy," said the leader. "You have seen things that were not for
your eyes. So you are to be put where knowledge of them will do no
harm--for a few hours. Then you can go. But until we have finished our
work, you must be kept. You shall not be hurt--I say it."

Dick did not answer. He was thinking hard. He wondered if Jack would try to
rescue him. They were getting very near Bray Park, he felt, and he thought
that, once inside, neither Jack nor anyone else could get him out until
these men who had captured him were willing. Then the car stopped suddenly.
Dick saw that they were outside a little house.

"Get out," said the leader.

Dick and the telephone man who had not been hurt obeyed; the other lineman
was lifted out, more considerately this time.

"Inside!" said the German with the thick, guttural voice. He pointed to the
open door, and they went inside. One of the Germans followed them, and
stood in the open door.

"Werner, you are responsible for the prisoners, especially the boy," said
the leader. "See that none of them escape. You will be relieved at the
proper time. You understand?"

"Ja, Herr Ritter!" said the man. "Zu befehl!"

He saluted, and for the first time Dick had the feeling that this strange
procedure was, in some sense, military, even though there were no uniforms.
Then the door shut, and they were left in the house.

It was just outside of Bray Park--he remembered it now. A tiny box of a
place it was, too, but solidly built of stone. It might have been used as a
tool house. There was one window; that and the door were the only means of
egress. The German looked hard at the window and laughed. Dick saw then
that it was barred. To get out that way, even if he had the chance, would
be impossible. And the guard evidently decided that. He lay down across the
door.

"So!" he said. "I shall sleep--but with one ear open! You cannot get out
except across me. And I am a light sleeper!"

Dick sat there, pondering wretchedly. The man who had been struck on the
head was breathing stertorously. His companion soon dropped off to sleep,
like the German, so that Dick was the only one awake. Through the window,
presently, came the herald of the dawn, the slowly advancing light. And
suddenly Dick saw a shadow against the light, looked up intently, and saw
that it was Jack Young. Jack pointed. Dick, not quite understanding, moved
to the spot at which he pointed.

"Stay there!" said Jack, soundlessly. His lips formed the words but he did
not utter them. He nodded up and down vehemently, however, and Dick
understood him, and that he was to stay where he was. He nodded in return,
and settled down in his new position. And then Jack dropped out of sight.

For a long time, while the dawn waxed and the light through the window grew
stronger, Dick sat there wondering. Only the breathing of the three men
disturbed the quiet of the little hut. But then, from behind him, he grew
conscious of a faint noise. Not quite a noise, either; it was more a
vibration. He felt the earthen floor of the hut trembling beneath him. And
then at last he understood.

He had nearly an hour still to wait. But at last the earth cracked and
yawned where he had been sitting. He heard a faint whisper.

"Dig it out a little--there's a big hole underneath. You can squirm your
way through. I'm going to back out now."

Dick obeyed, and a moment later he was working his way down, head first,
through the tunnel Jack had dug from the outside. He was small and slight
and he got through, somehow, though he was short of breath and dirtier than
he had ever been in his life when at last he was able to straighten
up--free.

"Come on!" cried Jack. "We've no time to lose. I've got a couple of
bicycles here. We'd better run for it."

Run for it they did, but there was no alarm. Behind them was the hut, quiet
and peaceful. And beyond the hut was the menace of Bray Park and the
mysteries of which the Germans had spoken in the great grey motor car.




CHAPTER XV

A DARING RUSE


Harry, furious as he was when he saw Graves allowed to go off after the
false accusation that had caused his arrest, was still able to control
himself sufficiently to think. He was beginning to see the whole plot now,
or to think he saw it. He remembered things that had seemed trivial at the
time of their occurrence, but that loomed up importantly now. And one of
the first things he realized was that he was probably in no great danger,
that the charge against him had not been made with the serious idea of
securing his conviction, but simply to cause his detention for a little
while, and to discredit any information he might have.

He could no longer doubt that Graves was in league with the spies on whose
trail he and Dick had fallen. And he understood that, if he kept quiet, all
would soon be all right for him. But if he did that, the plans of the
Germans would succeed. He had seen already an example of what they could
do, in the destruction of the water works. And it seemed to him that it
would be a poor thing to fail in what he had undertaken simply to save
himself. As soon as he reached that conclusion he knew what he must do, or,
at all events, what he must try to do.

For the officer who had arrested him he felt a good deal of contempt. While
it was true that orders had to be obeyed, there was no reason, Harry felt,
why the lieutenant should not have shown some discretion. An officer of the
regular army would have done so, he felt. But this man looked unintelligent
and stupid. Harry felt that he might safely rely on his appearance. And he
was right. The officer found himself in a quandary at once. His men were
mounted on cycles; Harry was on foot. And Harry saw that he didn't quite
know what to do.

Finally he cut the Gordian knot, as it seemed to him, by impounding a
bicycle from a passing wheel-man, who protested vigorously but in vain. All
he got for his cycle was a scrap of paper, stating that it had been
requisitioned for army use. And Harry was instructed to mount this machine
and ride along between two of the territorial soldiers. He had been hoping
for something like that, but had hardly dared to expect it. He had fully
made up his mind now to take all the risks he would run by trying to
escape. He could not get clear away, that much he knew. But now he, too,
like Graves, needed a little time. He did not mind being recaptured in a
short time if, in the meanwhile, he could be free to do what he wanted.

As to just how he would try to get away, he did not try to plan. He felt
that somewhere along the route some chance would present itself, and that
it would be better to trust to that than to make some plan. He was ordered
to the front of the squad--so that a better eye could be kept upon him, as
the lieutenant put it. Harry had irritated him by his attempts to cause a
change in the disposition of Graves and himself, and the officer gave the
impression now that he regarded Harry as a desperate criminal, already
tried and convicted.

Harry counted upon the traffic, sure to increase as it grew later, to give
him his chance. Something accidental, he knew, there must be, or he would
not be able to get away. And it was not long before his chance came. As
they crossed a wide street there was a sudden outburst of shouting. A
runaway horse, dragging a delivery cart, came rushing down on the squad,
and in a moment it was broken up and confused. Harry seized the chance. His
bicycle, by a lucky chance, was a high geared machine and before anyone
knew he had gone he had turned a corner. In a moment he threw himself off
the machine, dragged it into a shop, ran out, and in a moment dashed into
another shop, crowded with customers. And there for a moment, he stayed.
There was a hue and cry outside. He saw uniformed men, on bicycles, dashing
by. He even rushed to the door with the crowd in the shop to see what was
amiss! And, when the chase had passed, he walked out, very calmly, though
his heart was in his mouth, and quite unmolested got aboard a passing tram
car.

He was counting on the stupidity and lack of imagination of the
lieutenant, and his course was hardly as bold as it seems. As a matter of
fact it was his one chance to escape. He knew what the officer would
think--that, being in flight, he would try to get away as quickly as
possible from the scene of his escape. And so, by staying there, he was in
the one place where no one would think of looking for him!

On the tram car he was fairly safe. It happened, fortunately, that he had
plenty of money with him. And his first move, when he felt it was safe, was
to get off the tram and look for a cab. He found a taxicab in a short time,
one of those that had escaped requisition by the government, and in this he
drove to an outfitting shop, where he bought new clothes. He reasoned that
he would be looked for all over, and that if, instead of appearing as a Boy
Scout in character dress of the organization, he was in the ordinary
clothes, he would have a better chance. He managed the change easily, and
then felt that it was safe for him to try to get into communication with
Dick.

In this attempt luck was with him again. He called for the number of the
vicarage at Bray, only to find that the call was interrupted again at the
nearest telephone center. But this time he was asked to wait, and in a
moment he heard Jack Young's voice in his ear.

"We came over to explain about the wire's being cut," said Jack. "Dick's
all right. He's here with me. Where are you? We've got to see you just as
soon as we can."

"In London, but I'm coming down. I'm going to try to get a motor car, too.
I'm in a lot of trouble, Jack--it's Graves."

"Come on down. We'll walk out along the road toward London and meet you.
We've got a lot to tell you, but I'm afraid to talk about it over the
telephone."

"All right! I'll keep my eyes open for you."

Getting a motor car was not easy. A great many had been taken by the
government. But Harry remembered that one was owned by a business friend of
his father's, an American, and this, with some difficulty, he managed to
borrow. He was known as a careful driver. He had learned to drive his
father's car at home, and Mr. Armstrong knew it. And so, when Harry
explained that it was a matter of the greatest urgency, he got it--since he
had established a reputation for honor that made Mr. Armstrong understand
that when Harry said a thing was urgent, urgent it must be.

Getting out of London was easy. If a search was being made for him--and he
had no doubt that that was true--he found no evidence of it. His change of
clothes was probably what saved him, for it altered his appearance greatly.
So he came near to Bray, and finally met his two friends.




CHAPTER XVI

THE CIPHER


"What happened to you?" asked Jack and Dick in chorus.

Swiftly Harry explained. He told of his arrest as a spy and of his escape.
And when he mentioned the part that Ernest Graves had played in the affair,
Jack and Dick looked at one another.

"We were afraid of something like that," said Jack. "Harry, we've found out
a lot of things, and we don't know what they mean! We're sure something
dreadful is going to happen to-night. And we're sure, too, that Bray Park
is going to be the centre of the trouble."

"Tell me what you know," said Harry, crisply. "Then we'll put two and two
together. I say, Jack, we don't want to be seen, you know. Isn't there some
side road that doesn't lead anywhere, where I can run in with the car while
we talk?"

"Yes. There's a place about a quarter of a mile further on that will do
splendidly," he replied.

"All right. Lead the way! Tell me when we come to it. I've just thought of
something else I ought never to have forgotten. At least, I thought of it
when I took the things out of my pockets while I was changing my clothes."

They soon came to the turning Jack had thought of, and a run of a few
hundred yards took them entirely out of sight of the main road, and to a
place where they were able to feel fairly sure of not being molested.

Then they exchanged stories. Harry told his first. Then he heard of Dick's
escape, and of his meeting with Jack. He nodded at the story they had heard
from Gaffer Hodge.

"That accounts for how Graves knew," he said, with much satisfaction. "What
happened then?"

When he heard of how they had thought too late of calling Colonel
Throckmorton by telephone he sighed.

"If you'd only got that message through before Graves got in his work!" he
said. "He'd have had to believe you then, of course. How unlucky!"

"I know," said Jack. "We were frightfully sorry. And then we went out to
find where the wire was cut, and they got Dick. But I got away, and I
managed to stay fairly close to them. I followed them when they left Dick
in a little stone house, as a prisoner, and I heard this--I heard them
talking about getting a big supply of petrol. Now what on earth do they
want petrol for? They said there would still be plenty left for the
automobiles--and then that they wouldn't need the cars any more, anyhow!
What on earth do you make of that, Harry?"

"Tell me the rest, then I'll tell you what I think," said Harry. "How did
you get Dick out? And did you hear them saying anything that sounded as if
it might be useful, Dick?"

"That was fine work!" he said, when he had heard a description of Dick's
rescue. "Jack, you seem to be around every time one of us gets into trouble
and needs help!"

Then Dick told of the things he had overheard--the mysterious references to
Von Wedel and to things that were to be done to the barracks at Ealing and
Houndsditch. Harry got out a pencil and paper then, and made a careful note
of every name that Dick mentioned. Then he took a paper from his pocket.

"Remember this, Dick?" he asked. "It's the thing I spoke of that I forgot
until I came across it in my pocket this morning."

"What is it, Harry?"

"Don't you remember that we watched them heliographing some messages, and
put down the Morse signs? Here they are. Now the thing to do is to see if
we can't work out the meaning of the code. If it's a code that uses words
for phrases we're probably stuck, but I think it's more likely to depend on
inversions."

"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Jack. "I'm sorry I don't know anything
about codes and ciphers."

"Why, there are two main sorts of codes, Jack, and, of course, thousands of
variations of each of those principal kinds. In one kind the idea is to
save words--in telegraphing or cabling. So the things that are likely to be
said are represented by one word. For instance _Coal_, in a mining code,
might mean 'Struck vein at two hundred feet level.' In the other sort of
code, the letters are changed. That is done in all sorts of ways, and there
are various tricks. The way to get at nearly all of them is to find out
which letter or number or symbol is used most often, and to remember that
in an ordinary letter E will appear almost twice as often as any other
letter--in English, that is."

"But won't this be in German?"

"Yes. That's just why I wanted those names Dick heard. They are likely to
appear in any message that was sent. So, if we can find words that
correspond in length to those, we may be able to work it out. Here goes,
anyhow!"

For a long time Harry puzzled over the message. He transcribed the Morse
symbols first into English letters and found they made a hopeless and
confused jumble, as he had expected. The key of the letter E was useless,
as he had also expected. But finally, by making himself think in German,
he began to see a light ahead. And after an hour's hard work he gave a cry
of exultation.

"I believe I've got it!" he cried. "Listen and see if this doesn't sound
reasonable!"

"Go ahead!" said Jack and Dick, eagerly.

"Here it is," said Harry. "'Petrol just arranged. Supply on way. Reach Bray
Friday. Von Wedel may come. Red light markers arranged. Ealing Houndsditch
Buckingham Admiralty War Office. Closing.'"

They stared at him, mystified.

"I suppose it does make sense," said Dick. "But what on earth does it mean,
Harry?"

"Oh, can't you see?" cried Harry. "Von Wedel is a commander of some
sort--that's plain, isn't it? And he's to carry out a raid, destroying or
attacking the places that are mentioned! How can he do that? He can't be a
naval commander. He can't be going to lead troops, because we know they
can't land. Then how can he get here? And why should he need petrol?"

They stared at him blankly. Then, suddenly, Dick understood.

"He'll come through the air!" he cried.

"Yes, in one of their big Zeppelins!" said Harry. "I suppose she has been
cruising off the coast. She's served as a wireless relay station, too. The
plant here at Bray Park could reach her, and she could relay the messages
on across the North Sea, to Helgoland or Wilhelmshaven. She's waited until
everything was ready."

"That's what they mean by the red light markers, then?"

"Yes. They could be on the roofs of houses, and masked, so that they
wouldn't be seen except from overhead. They'd be in certain fixed
positions, and the men on the Zeppelins would be able to calculate their
aim, and drop their bombs so many degrees to the left or the right of the
red marking lights."

"But we've got aeroplanes flying about, haven't we?" said Jack. "Wouldn't
they see those lights and wonder about them?"

"Yes, if they were showing all the time. But you can depend on it that
these Germans have provided for all that. They will have arranged for the
Zeppelin to be above the positions, as near as they can guess them, at
certain times--and the lights will only be shown at those times, and then
only for a few seconds. Even if someone else sees them, you see, there
won't be time to do anything."

"You must be right, Harry!" said Jack, nervously. "There's no other way to
explain that message. How are we going to stop them?"

"I don't know yet, but we'll have to work out some way of doing it. It
would be terrible for us to know what had been planned and still not be
able to stop them! I wish I knew where Graves was. I'd like--"

He stopped, thinking hard.

"What good would that do?"

"Oh, I don't want him--not just now. But I don't want him to see me just at
present. I want to know where he is so that I can avoid him."

"Suppose I scout into Bray?" suggested Jack. "I can find out something that
might be useful, perhaps. If any of them from Bray Park have come into the
village to-day I'll hear about it."

"That's a good idea. Suppose you do that, Jack. I don't know just what I'll
do yet. But if I go away from here before you come back, Dick will stay.
I've got to think--there must be some way to beat them!"




CHAPTER XVII

A CAPTURE FROM THE SKIES


Jack went off to see what he could discover, and Harry, left behind with
Dick, racked his brain for some means of blocking the plan he was so sure
the Germans had made. He was furious at Graves, who had discredited him
with Colonel Throckmorton, as he believed. He minded the personal
unpleasantness involved far less than the thought that his usefulness was
blocked, for he felt that no information he might bring would be received
now.

As he looked around it seemed incredible that such things as he was trying
to prevent could even be imagined. After the early rain, the day had
cleared up warm and lovely, and it was now that most perfect of things, a
beautiful summer day in England. The little road they had taken was a sort
of blind alley. It had brought them to a meadow, whence the hay had already
been cut. At the far side of this ran a little brook, and all about them
were trees. Except for the calls of birds, and the ceaseless hum of
insects, there was no sound to break the stillness. It was a scene of
peaceful beauty that could not be surpassed anywhere in the world. And yet,
only a few miles away, at the most, were men who were planning deliberately
to bring death and destruction upon helpless enemies--to rain down death
from the skies.

By very contrast to the idyllic peace of all about them, the terrors of war
seemed more dreadful. That men who went to war should be killed and
wounded, bad though it was, still seemed legitimate. But this driving home
of an attack upon a city all unprepared, upon the many non-combatants who
would be bound to suffer, was another and more dreadful thing. Harry could
understand that it was war, that it was permissible to do what these
Germans planned. And yet--

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in the quality of the
noisy silence that the insects made. Just before he noticed it, half a
dozen bees had been humming near him. Now he heard something that sounded
like the humming of a far vaster bee. Suddenly it stopped, and, as it did,
he looked up, his eyes as well as Dick's being drawn upward at the same
moment. And they saw, high above them, an aeroplane with dun colored wings.
Its engine had stopped and it was descending now in a beautiful series of
volplaning curves.

"Out of essence--he's got to come down," said Harry, appraisingly, to Dick.
"He'll manage it all right, too. He knows his business through and through,
that chap."

"I wonder where he'll land," speculated Dick.

"He's got to pick an open space, of course," said Harry. "And there aren't
so many of them around here. By Jove!"

"Look! He's certainly coming down fast!" exclaimed Dick.

"Yes--and, I say, I think he's heading for this meadow! Come on--start that
motor, Dick!"

"Why? Don't you want him to see us?"

"I don't mind him seeing us--I don't want him to see the car," explained
Harry. "We'll run it around that bend, out of sight from the meadow."

"Why shouldn't he see it?"

"Because if he's out of petrol he'll want to take all we've got and we may
not want him to have it. We don't know who he is, yet."

The car was moving as Harry explained. As soon as the meadow was out of
sight Harry stopped the engine and got out of the car.

"He may have seen it as he was coming down--the car, I mean," he said. "But
I doubt it. He's got other things to watch. That meadow for one--and all
his levers and his wheel. Guiding an aeroplane in a coast like that down
the air is no easy job."

"Have you ever been up, Harry?"

"Yes, often. I've never driven one myself, but I believe I could if I had
to. I've watched other people handle them so often that I know just about
everything that has to be done."

"That's an English monoplane. I've seen them ever so often," said Dick.
"It's an army machine, I mean. See its number? It's just coming in sight
of us now. Wouldn't I like to fly her though?"

"I'd like to know what it's doing around here," said Harry. "And it seems
funny to me if an English army aviator has started out without enough
petrol in his tank to see him through any flight he might be making. And
wouldn't he have headed for one of his supply stations as soon as he found
he was running short, instead of coming down in country like this?"

Dick stared at him.

"Do you think it's another spy?" he asked.

"I don't think anything about it yet, Dick. But I'm not going to be caught
napping. That's a Bleriot--and the British army flying corps uses Bleriots.
But anyone with the money can buy one and make it look like an English army
'plane. Remember that."

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