The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields

CHAPTER XIII.

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

What had happened was no mystery to Rob and Merritt, though possibly Tubby, not quite so apt to jump to conclusions, remained a little bewildered at what was going on.

It seemed that the Belgians must have suspected something wrong, and possibly followed the bearer of the lantern when he went into the open field to flash his signals toward the sky.

The three scouts from across the ocean were not the only watchers who had read that message. Yes, and the coast had not been as clear as the signal man believed, since even then enemies must have been creeping toward him, though utterly unseen in the darkness.

The rapid discharge of guns, and the loud outcries of men engaged in desperate warfare, thrilled the boys. They could not see a single figure, but the spiteful flashing of firearms, as they were discharged, told them that the fight was not all one-sided, and that the Germans must be resisting capture with their usual valor.

All at once they heard another sound.

"It's the motor – the aëroplane man has managed to get going!" exclaimed Rob, instantly comprehending what that meant.

In order to rise, after starting his machine, it was necessary for the aviator to first skim along the field for a little distance, and gradually gain an impetus which, at the proper instant, results in a slow ascent.

Of course he was taking all sorts of desperate chances in making this blind venture; but his life was at stake, if caught. Besides, he undoubtedly must have examined the nature of that level stretch of ground before, and selected it as a landing place on account of its good qualities.

"He's heading this way, Rob!" exclaimed Tubby, almost in a panic.

"If he butts into this wall it'll spell his finish!" added Merritt.

"No danger of that," said Rob. "He knows every foot of ground around here. But duck down, everybody. They will fire a volley after him, and we might get in line of the bullets."

Tubby dropped flat, forgetting that the high stone wall was as good a breastwork as any one could want.

Just as Rob had anticipated, there was a series of explosions, and they could even hear the patter of bullets striking the piled-up stones composing the wall.

This was enough to tell them that the fleeing aviator had headed straight toward the spot where they were crouching. And, as the rattle of his machine grew louder, they realized that he was approaching them with considerable speed.

Then, with an additional clatter, the Taube passed over the wall, clearing its top by not more than ten feet.

"Keep down!" exclaimed Rob, feeling Merritt beginning to make a move, and afraid lest he should stand upright in order to better follow the progress of the aëroplane.

It was well he spoke when he did, for another burst of firing came. The soldiers were sending random volleys after the fleeing airman, in hopes of injuring his machinery or wounding the aviator himself.

"That was sure a great getaway!" bubbled Tubby, still seated there on the ground.

"But I rather think they winged him," added Merritt, possibly with a note of regret in his voice.

It was not that he felt any particular sympathy for the German cause; but, boy-like, he could admire grit and daring, no matter under what flag it might be found. That bold flight of the Taube operator in the face of the flying missiles was quite enough to arouse the spirit of any one with red blood in his veins.

"What makes you say that?" asked Tubby, not meaning to remain in ignorance when he possessed a ready tongue.

"I was pretty sure the machine wabbled as it passed over," said Merritt.

"My opinion, too," Rob chimed in. "It seemed to me he was trying his best to get it to mount, but it balked. That could only mean something had gone wrong with the machinery, or else a wing had been fractured."

"Huh! you talk just like the machine might be a baseball pitcher," commented Tubby. "But, if that's the case, the chances are he'll drop to the ground right away, or else smash up against some tree."

"Just what may happen to him," agreed Merritt.

"You'll notice that the sound of motor and propeller has suddenly died out," suggested Rob, "which I take it looks pretty rough for the man-bird."

"Oh! that would be too bad, now!" Tubby whimpered, as he imagined he could see the bold pilot of the crippled flier dashed to the ground amidst the wreckage of his machine.

"Well, the shooting seems to be over!" remarked Merritt.

"I wonder what happened to the spy?" Rob observed, as he stared over the top of the stone wall toward the spot where the late confusion had taken place.

They could still see that little glow, proving that the lantern had not been kicked over in all the riot when the creeping Belgians had pounced on the enemy.

"Would it be wise for us to head over there now, Rob?"

Plainly Merritt was curious to know what had happened, and his manner of putting this question to the patrol leader showed that he would never be satisfied unless they made some sort of attempt to solve the mystery.

This time he found Rob more agreeable. Conditions had changed considerably since the leader had put his foot down upon any suggestion that they thrust themselves into the game. The Belgians were their friends, and they could not believe any danger was to be feared from that source.

"We might walk over that way," Rob admitted slowly; "that is, if Tubby can get over this wall."

"If not, he could wait for us here," suggested Merritt, with a chuckle.

"I see myself waiting all alone on the other side of the wall, while you two step forward and find out all there is going on. I can climb walls, all right, if somebody only gives me a little boost. Try me, and see, Rob. That's a good fellow!"

Of course Rob was ready to lend the desired assistance; and as Tubby secured a hold on a large stone that crowned the wall, he was able to hunch himself up, puffing and grunting at a great rate.

It was easy enough to get down, if one did not care how he fell; but Tubby proved fortunate in finding toe places where he could secure a hold, and in some fashion managed to "dismount."

He pattered after his two chums, who were already moving toward the middle of the big field.

Rob, always noticing things as he went along, found that the field was very level, and he could understand how the place must have been selected for a rendezvous since it offered such exceptional facilities for an aëroplane to land and start up again.

Perhaps this had been a regular nightly affair, and all sorts of valuable information may have been carried to the German Headquarters by means of this novel air route.

As the three boys gradually drew nearer the place where the lantern could still be seen, they discovered that it was now being held in the hand of some person who wore a uniform.

"Belgians, all right!" muttered Rob, after noting that the garb was not like the khaki-colored clothes of the British troops, nor yet the blue and red of the French soldiers.

There seemed to be more than a dozen of the men, showing that they had come in force. Whether they had discovered the spy by accident or followed him to the place of meeting, Rob, of course, could only guess; nor did it matter to him.

"I can see the prisoner!" whispered Merritt.

"Yes, and there seem to be two of them," added Rob, noting that the men were being held by several soldiers, and it was as though the officer in command might be questioning them closely, for a voice could be heard speaking in French.

"They've been up against hard knocks, it looks like," Tubby mentioned, eager to let his chums know he was close at their heels, and able to see a few things for himself.

Indeed, the men did have the appearance of having been through the mill. Their hats were missing, so that their hair hung about their faces, which looked as if they had been brought in contact with a pile-driver, for there was blood, also contusions and bruises visible.

"And one of them stands as if he hadn't any use for his left leg, which means most likely he's got a bullet through it," Rob continued.

He spoke aloud, and for a reason. It were better that the soldiers in the field learned of their advance by some such method as this. If, on the other hand, the trio of scouts were detected advancing in any sort of suspicious manner they might be unfortunate enough to evoke a volley. Excited men sometimes shoot first and ask questions afterward.

A harsh voice suddenly demanded in French to know who they were, and what they had to say for themselves; adding that unless they replied instantly the order to cut them down would be given.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE FIELD HOSPITAL

"We are friends, three American boys only!"

Very often Rob had practiced his French so as to get this explanation correct. If his accent happened to be altogether wrong, what he said could be understood, and that was the main thing.

Apparently, what he had called out must have surprised the Belgian officer in charge of the detachment, for he could be heard exchanging comments with someone else. Then he spoke aloud again.

"Advance, and hold up your hands above your heads!" he ordered.

Rob understood the words, but of course his chums could not; so the first thing he did was to elevate both hands as high as he could, and say to them:

"Do the same as I am, both of you. The officer has ordered it. And then come on over to where they are waiting for us!"

In this manner they drew near the spot where the others stood. Everyone was staring very hard, for to see three boys dressed in khaki, and talking unmistakable English among themselves, was indeed a considerable surprise.

The one who held the lantern proved to be a lieutenant. He was a man of middle age, and as the newcomers drew near he held up his light in order the better to examine their make-up. What he saw must have created a good impression, for the frown began to leave his face.

"It is fortunate that I speak English," he started in to say, greatly to the delight as well as the surprise of Rob, "so you shall tell me how it comes we find you here on this particular night, and so close to a spot where a suspicious transaction was going on which we had the pleasure of nipping in the bud."

Apparently the lieutenant was not wholly satisfied. He could not tell but that these smart looking boys might have some connection with the game he and his detachment had blocked in the capture of the two spies.

So Rob hastened to explain as briefly as he could.

"We have come to Belgium on some very important business that has nothing whatever to do with the war. There is a man we must see, and it happens that he was last reported in a town near Brussels. We know what great risks we run in trying to pass between the lines of the hostile armies; but we hope to keep out of the hands of the Germans; and as for the Belgians, we are carrying with us a letter that has up to now always passed us."

This was the signal for Merritt to produce the passport written for them by the obliging burgomaster of Antwerp. The lieutenant received the paper gravely. He was evidently puzzled to know how much of Rob's strange story to believe; for it seemed remarkable that three boys should take such a dangerous mission upon their shoulders.

When he had read the short recommendation through, and saw the signature at the bottom, the officer uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.

"You could not have chosen a better sponsor than the worthy burgomaster of Antwerp," he said warmly. "I have met him more than once, and he is held in high respect throughout the land, as is Burgomaster Max of Brussels. Let me return your paper safely. It is worth keeping."

"And you will allow us to go on when we choose, then?" asked Merritt eagerly.

"There is no occasion for your detention," he was informed, "but if I sought your best welfare I should order that you turn back, and give up this foolish mission, for there is hardly one chance in ten that you can escape capture at the hands of the enemy, since they are everywhere. But you know best, and I shall not interfere. It must be a serious motive that brings you into this wretched country?"

"It means a great lot to my family that I find this man, Steven Meredith," Merritt told him, possibly with a faint hope that the lieutenant might recognize the name, and admit that he knew the person.

Rob had noticed several things. For one, that the taller prisoner was certainly badly wounded, since he stood on one leg, and had his teeth tightly clinched as if to keep from betraying any weakness that might be deemed unmanly.

One of the Belgians also carried a bandage, roughly fastened, possibly by a clumsy comrade, around his arm. It showed traces of blood, and Rob could guess that a speeding bullet fired by the spies at bay probably had caused the wound.

"I notice that a couple of men here have been wounded," he ventured to say to the lieutenant, "and, as you must know, Boy Scouts are taught something of field surgery. Would you mind if I and my friend here looked at them? We might stop the flow of blood, anyway, and perhaps make the men a bit easier."

The Belgian officer hesitated for a brief time. He looked at Rob, and seemed to be considering. Then he nodded his head.

"As we have to stay here until my superior officer and a larger detachment come along in answer to the signals we are about to make, it could do no harm. Yes, I have heard that Boy Scouts are supposed to know something of surgery, although I myself have never seen them practice it. You may proceed. Albert!"

He beckoned to the private who had his arm bound up. The man upon being told to show his injury hardly knew what was about to happen. He could not believe that mere boys would know what a surgeon was supposed to do.

That man evidently had the surprise of his life when Rob, assisted by Merritt, washed the wound by the aid of some water obtained from a canteen, and then neatly bound the arm up, using some strips from a little roll of linen which Rob took from his pocket.

The officer watched the whole operation with considerable interest.

"That was neatly done," he commented, after the man had stepped back to where a comrade was holding his gun for him. "As you expressed a wish to attend to the prisoner, I give you full permission to do so. Though, after all, it will make but little difference with him, since his doom is sealed."

The tall German said never a word, but allowed the boys to do as they willed with him. He realized the desperate condition in which his boldness had placed him and was evidently determined, if convicted of being a spy, to die game.

His injury turned out to be much more serious than that of the Belgian soldier, for the bullet had made a bad puncture, and he had already lost much blood.

Tubby turned his head away at first, as though he could not bear to see the wound, but evidently realizing that a display of such timidity was hardly in keeping with what they wished these men to believe of Boy Scouts, he finally forced himself to offer to assist his chums in their gruesome work.

It took all of ten minutes to wash and dress that wound with the few things at their command the best they were able to. During all that time the spy did not say a word, nor did he groan even when Rob knew he must be hurting him more or less, although that could not be avoided.

And the officer had commenced to ask questions. It seemed to surprise him that even in far-away America there, too, the boys had organized themselves into patrols and learned all these valuable lessons calculated to make them better citizens when they came to take their places in business, on the firing line, or among the professions.

"Then the scouts over in your country are also taught to be ready for any emergency, the same as the boys are in Belgium?" he asked Rob, as he watched the latter's nimble fingers, with considerable dexterity into the bargain, draw the bandage tightly into place.

"Oh! yes," replied the boy, only too pleased to say a good word for the thousands upon thousands of comrades in khaki whom he represented. "You see, most of us camp out a good deal, and all sorts of accidents happen. I've known a boy to cut himself so badly with an ax when he was chopping wood that he would have bled to death long before they could get him to a doctor, but it was easy for his mates to stop the flow of blood, and do the right thing."

"It is grand, this teaching boys to be able to save human life," declared the middle-aged officer, who perhaps had sons of his own in the army, "and yet it never came to me before that even in America they were practicing these noble avocations. I have seen them in England, yes, in France also, but in America – it is superb to think of it. And there are other ways in which boys in camp could be injured, you are telling me?"