The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Boy Scouts on War Trails in Belgium, by Herbert Carter

“Faster! Thad, squeeze a little more speed out of the poor old thing.”
The Boy Scouts on War Trails in Belgium. [Page 66]

THE BOY SCOUTS
On War Trails In Belgium

OR

Caught Between Hostile Armies

By HERBERT CARTER

AUTHOR OF
“The Boy Scouts First Campfire,” “The Boy
Scouts in the Blue Ridge,” “The Boy Scouts
on the Trail,” “The Boy Scouts in the
Maine Woods,” “The Boy Scouts
Through the Big Timber,”
“The Boy Scouts in the
Rockies,” “The Boy
Scouts Along the
Susquehanna.”
Etc.,

Copyright, 1916
By A. L. Burt Company

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE [I. The News That Reached the Rhine.] 3 [II. A Bold Undertaking.] 12 [III. Giraffe Makes a Bargain.] 19 [IV. The Blocked Way to the Border.] 28 [V. At the Ferry.] 37 [VI. Scout Tactics.] 45 [VII. Dodging Trouble.] 54 [VIII. The Country of Windmills.] 63 [IX. At a Wayside Belgian Inn.] 71 [X. The Throb in the Night Breeze.] 80 [XI. Warned Off.] 89 [XII. The Penalty of Meddling.] 98 [XIII. Repentant Bumpus.] 106 [XIV. More Hard Luck.] 115 [XV. At the End of a Tow Line.] 124 [XVI. The German Raiders.] 132 [XVII. A Man in the Tree Top.] 141 [XVIII. Good Samaritans.] 149 [XIX. The Battle at the Bridge.] 158 [XX. Victory in Defeat.] 167 [XXI. The Call for Help.] 176 [XXII. Up from the Depths.] 184 [XXIII. “A Tempest in a Teapot.”] 193 [XXIV. The Ambuscade.] 202 [XXV. The Scouts’ Camp Fire.] 210 [XXVI. A Tattooed Fugitive.] 219 [XXVII. The Uhlan Hold-up.] 228 [XXVIII. Turned Back.] 236 [XXIX. A Change of Plans—Conclusion.] 245

THE BOY SCOUTS ON WAR TRAILS IN BELGIUM.

CHAPTER I.
THE NEWS THAT REACHED THE RHINE.

“It strikes me Allan’s a pretty long time coming with those letters, Thad.”

“Oh! perhaps he’s struck some exciting news worth picking up; you know he’s a correspondent for a newspaper at home in the good old United States, and must always be on the lookout for happenings. Have a little more patience, Bumpus.”

“But you see I didn’t sleep ten winks last night, Thad. After our lovely quiet trip down the Rhine by boat from Mainz this place seemed just as noisy as any boiler factory.”

“No wonder, Bumpus, with trains pouring in from the east and north, every one loaded down with German first-line troops, field artillery, cavalry horses, aeroplane supplies, and all sorts of war toggery.”

“Yes, but, Giraffe, I took notice that you slept like a top through it all, just as if we were camping again in the Maine woods, or down in that Louisiana swamp where we had such a roaring good time.”

The boy who answered to the peculiar nick-name of “Giraffe” laughed when the stout, auburn-haired member of the trio, known as Bumpus Hawtree, made this assertion.

“Oh! I’ve got it down to a fine point, Bumpus,” he remarked with a touch of boyish pride in his voice; “I’ve found out how to make mind win over matter. When I lay me down to sleep I just tell myself to forget all troubles; and after counting a hundred sheep jumping over a fence I lose myself the finest way you ever saw. Try it yourself, Bumpus, and see how it works.”

“As a rule I don’t have any trouble getting my forty winks, and you know that, Giraffe,” the fat boy continued, sadly; “but just now I’m terribly worried about my mother back there in Antwerp. Whatever would she do if this war does break out, so helpless to get away by herself, because of that paralysis she’s trying to have cured by a specialist?”

“We’ve given you our promise, Bumpus,” said the one called Thad, “that we’d stick by you through thick and thin, and do everything in our power to get to Antwerp. So cherk up and try to feel that it’s all going to come out right in the end.”

“Thad, a scout never had a better chum than you’ve always been to me,” Bumpus acknowledged, with a trace of tears in his eyes, as he laid his hand on the other’s khaki sleeve; “and I’m going to do my level best to see the silver lining of the cloud. But it’s tough being hemmed in by a whole army like we are, and given to understand that it’s impossible to enter Belgium again until the skies clear.”

These three boys who wore the well-known uniform of scouts were seated in a boat that had apparently been used as a means for descending the historic Rhine.

Thad Brewster was the leader of the patrol to which the others belonged. It was known as the Silver Fox, and formed a part of Cranford Troop. He had worked his way up until his field of experience was so broad that it entitled him to take the place of the regular scout master of the troop when the latter could not accompany the boys on their outings.

Giraffe was really known to his teachers in school as Conrad Stedman. His ancestors had come from this same Rhine country long ago, and as the boy had made a specialty of German in school he was able to jabber fairly well during their trip down the beautiful river. Giraffe came by his nick-name honestly. He had been given an abnormally long neck by a bountiful Nature, and on occasion it seemed as if the boy could even stretch this out to an astonishing extent, just as the giraffe does. He never complained because every one of his mates called him by such a name, for if it hadn’t been that he must surely have been dubbed “Rubber-neck,” which would have been infinitely worse.

Bumpus Hawtree also had another more dignified name, that of Cornelius Jasper, but it was utterly unknown among his comrades. Whether on the baseball field, in camp, on the trail, in a boat, or any other place where boys might gather it was always plain Bumpus. No one knew exactly why that peculiar name had been given to the fat boy, except that being clumsy he was always stumbling into trouble, and given to bumping against his chums.

These boys, with some others connected with the Cranford Troop of scouts, had seen considerable in the way of adventure since the first day they organized their Silver Fox Patrol. Wonderful opportunities had come to them whereby they were allowed to visit the Blue Ridge country down in North Carolina; go to the Maine woods on an outing; cross the continent to the great Rockies and enjoy a hunt for big game in the wilderness; and even take a trip down into the Sunny South, where amidst the swamps of Louisiana they had encountered numerous remarkable adventures.

No matter what difficulties beset them, Thad Brewster and his chums had always met emergencies as became true-hearted scouts, and as a rule managed to emerge from the encounter in triumph. Earlier in the same summer that we see them so far away from their home town of Cranford they had been concerned in a wonderful hunt for a valuable missing paper that took them along the banks of the Susquehanna River, and brought them in contact with a number of thrilling happenings, all of which have been fully described in the volume preceding this.

Bumpus Hawtree’s father was the president of the bank, and known to be a wealthy man. The boy’s mother had suffered from a paralytic stroke, and urged to go abroad to be treated by an eminent specialist, this trip had suddenly been thrust upon the chums.

Circumstances having arisen whereby Mr. Hawtree could not leave his business, he had entrusted the care of the invalid to Bumpus, and even agreed to stand for half of the expense of having his three comrades accompany him.

Thad and Allan Hollister had long hoped to some day take a boat trip down the Rhine, and when they learned that Bumpus was going this fever had attacked them more furiously than ever. Then came Giraffe with the suggestion that he join with them, making a party of four.

It proved to be an irresistible temptation. If Mrs. Hawtree had to remain for a month or so at the sanitarium of the specialist in Antwerp what was to hinder the four chums from carrying out their cherished scheme?

At that time there seemed to be no cloud on the sky of European politics. Servia had indeed put a match under the magazine when some scoundrel assassinated the heir to the Austrian throne, and the Dual Monarchy was demanding redress; but nearly every one supposed it would end in Servia backing completely down, and doing whatever her big neighbor insisted upon.

So the trip had been made, the invalid left comfortably in the Belgian city on the Scheldt, after which the quartette of wide-awake American boys hurried across to the German city of Mainz, where they managed to hire a boat that would answer their purposes.

This was fixed up the best way possible for cruising, and they had taken their own good time drifting down the beautiful Rhine. At night when away from any city or town the boys would proceed to camp just as though they were over in America, and navigating the waters of the Mississippi or the Susquehanna.

It would perhaps take a book to tell of the many interesting things they saw and experienced while on this voyage along the German waterway. The task would be a most pleasant one, too; but there are too many more stirring scenes lying ahead of Thad and his friends and awaiting our immediate attention to linger here.

Bumpus had been greatly worried of late. The reports had grown more and more serious the nearer they approached Cologne, and evidences multiplied that went to tell them the great German nation was taking no chances of a sudden invasion from the French border.

They had seen trainloads of soldiers all sweeping toward the west and south. Heavy traction engines had been noticed moving slowly along country roads, and drawing enormous guns behind them. Thousands of motor trucks, each also loaded to the limit with men in helmets, had been seen scurrying along.

All these things pointed to a growing fear that some terrible calamity was impending over poor Europe, so that possibly the long talked of World’s War might be nearer than most people across the Atlantic dreamed of.

To comfort Bumpus, Thad had solemnly promised him that no matter what happened they would do everything in their power to forge ahead and reach Antwerp. When he made that brotherly promise Thad could not have foreseen one-tenth of the tremendous difficulties that would have to be surmounted before it could ever be carried into execution; but once it was given he had such a tenacious will that the leader of the Silver Fox Patrol was bound to try and keep his word.

Their other comrade, Allan Hollister, had gone into the city for any mail that might be awaiting their arrival at Cologne. Sitting there with the magnificent twin spires of the famous cathedral in plain sight, the others were impatiently awaiting his return.

It may have been ten minutes after the little talk occurred with which this chapter opens that a boy was discovered hurrying toward the boat. From the fact of his wearing a khaki suit like the ones Thad and his other two chums sported, it could be set down for granted that this must be Allan Hollister.

As he drew nearer, all of them could see that his face was grave. This gave Bumpus a new pang, for he feared he would never be able to make the journey across Belgium, and join his invalid mother, who would be waiting for him in Antwerp.

Allan silently handed each of them some mail, but after a glance at his Thad voiced the feelings of his other two allies when he said:

“You’re bringing us bad news, Allan; it’s written on your face, and there’s no use keeping it back any longer. What’s happened?”

Allan was the second in control of the patrol, a good woodsman, and a stout-hearted scout. He braced himself with an effort, and after drawing a big breath went on to tell them the thrilling news he had heard when getting the mail.

“The war is on—German armies have crossed the frontier into Belgium—King Albert has refused to let them pass through his country, and there is a terrible battle being fought at Liége, with thousands of men killed and wounded on both sides. The whole of Germany and Austria have flamed up, and it’s going to be a fight to the death with the biggest nations of Europe on the battle line!”

CHAPTER II.
A BOLD UNDERTAKING.

No one said anything immediately. Bumpus had turned very white, and a pained expression crept across his round face, seldom seen there.

“My poor mother!” they heard him mutter, as he stared over into the mysterious west, in the direction where Antwerp was supposed to lie, with part of Germany and the whole of Belgium between.

Under ordinary conditions there would have been only one way out of the scrape for the four chums. This would have been to make as rapid a retreat as they could, passing further into Germany, and managing by some good fortune to get over into Holland where at Amsterdam they might secure passage to London by steamer.

Thad would have laid out their campaign along those lines only for his sacred promise to poor Bumpus, who being very set in his way might have attempted the task of getting to the Belgian city by himself, and of course making an utter failure of it, because Bumpus never did many things right.

“So, the worst has come, after all,” said Thad, presently; “and the torch has been put to the powder magazine that will blow up pretty much all Europe before the end is reached.”

“Will Great Britain fight, do you think, Thad?” asked Giraffe, in somewhat of an awed voice for one so bold as he had usually proved himself.

“That’s to be seen,” replied the other, gravely; “but we know that France and Russia will fly to arms, and I don’t see how England can keep out of it. You know she has sworn to maintain the neutrality of Belgium even by force of arms if necessary. If the German army is over the border that settles it, I’m afraid.”

“Whew! but there will be a fierce old row!” declared Giraffe; “and just to think of our being over here at such a wonderful time. Mebbe we won’t have lots to tell Step Hen, Davy Jones, Smithy, Bob White, and the rest of the fellows when we get back home again.”

“Yes, when we do!” echoed Bumpus, dolefully.

“Here, cheer up, Bumpus; don’t look like you’d lost your last friend,” the boy with the long neck told him. “Remember what Thad said about our hanging to you all the way through, don’t you? Well, it still goes. Even the whole German army can’t keep us from getting over into Belgium, and hiking for old Antwerp. We’ll pull up there sooner or later in pretty fair shape, and smuggle Ma Hawtree across the Channel to England’s shores, mark my words if we don’t.”

Thad and Allan both said something along the same lines. Perhaps they may not have felt quite so sanguine as Giraffe, but that did not prevent them from trying to bolster up the sagging courage of Bumpus.

Of course the latter began to show immediate signs of renewed hope. How could it be otherwise when he had the backing of such loyal chums?

“But what can we do when the whole country is just swarming with soldiers, all heading in the direction of the border?” Bumpus wanted to know. “We’ve got our passports, I admit, but in time of war they wouldn’t be worth the paper they’re written on. And, Thad, no common person can ride on one of the trains these days, I’m sure.”

“Yes, that’s right, Bumpus,” the other admitted, “and in making up our plans we must omit travel in the regular way.”

“The border is something like forty miles away from here, I should say,” suggested Allan, who had of course looked the thing up on the map.

“There’s the Netherlands a bit closer,” Thad explained, “if we chose to cross over the line; but we might find it hard to get into Belgium that way. One thing sure, we must be on the move to-day.”

“Do you mean we’ll hoof it, Thad?” demanded Giraffe, who, being a good walker, evidently did not see any particular difficulty about managing twenty to thirty miles a day over good summer roads.

With Bumpus it was quite another matter, and he held his breath while waiting to hear what the patrol leader had to say.

“If we have to we might make it,” Thad presently returned, as though he had considered the matter himself at some previous time. “Then who knows but what we might be lucky enough to run across some man owning a car, who would either rent it to us or give us a lift to the border.”

“But, Thad,” objected Allan, “you know what we heard about all cars? As soon as the order for mobilization went out it was flashed from the Russian border to Alsace and Lorraine, and from that minute every car worth owning in the entire German country would be the property of the Government. Why, if we owned even an American-made car right now it would be taken away from us, to be paid for by the military authorities. I’m afraid it’s going to be a case of shank’s mare with us.”

“Let it,” said Thad; “we’ve got to make a start inside of an hour or so!”

That was the prompt way in which most of the matters engineered by Thad Brewster were put through. Somehow his manner of saying it thrilled the others, for there could be seen a new grim look come into their faces. Even the woe-begone countenance of Bumpus took on fresh hope.

“Do you really mean that we’re going to start out into the west, Thad?” he asked, with glistening eyes.

“Just what we’ll do, Bumpus!” he was told with a reassuring smile on the part of the patrol leader such as always carried fresh cheer to anxious hearts.

“How about getting rid of the boat that’s carried us down the Rhine so splendidly?” questioned Giraffe.

“That’s already been arranged for,” was what the other told him; “all we have to do is to hand it over to that boat builder, and get his receipt for the same. We have paid the last thaler we owe, and there’s no reason why we can’t leave our duffle here with the same man, to be sent for later on when the war is over and railroads are taking on freight again for America.”

“It sounds good to me,” said Giraffe. “I’d hate to lose a few things I brought along to make myself comfortable with—the red blanket, for instance, that’s been with me on so many camping trips. I hope there’s a good chance of seeing our stuff again some fine day.”

“Well, talking isn’t going to help us any, so what do you say we get busy?” suggested Thad; and as the others were all agreeable they soon made quick work with packing up their belongings, so they could be left in charge of the owner of the boatyard on the outskirts of the city.

All the while they worked the boys could hear a thousand and one sounds connected with the feverish rush of military trains crossing bridges, and starting off anew toward the Belgian border at three points beyond the mobilizing centre of Aachen or, as it was once called, Aix la Chappelle, almost due west by south from Cologne.

When the hour was up they had accomplished all the preliminaries looking to the start on foot across German territory. The owner of the boatyard doubtless wondered what they meant to do, for he asked a number of curious questions. Still he readily agreed to store their packages until such time as he received instructions how to ship the same to America, accompanied by a tidy little sum to pay his charges.

“If you asked my opinion,” remarked Giraffe, after they had left the place and started off, “I’d say that old chap didn’t wholly believe the story we told. Right now he may think we’re really a party of British Boy Scouts, over here in the land of the Kaiser to learn some of the garrison secrets, so in case of an invasion later on the beefeaters would know where the weak places in the defences are.”

“Do you think he would go to the trouble to inform some of the military authorities of his suspicions, and get them after us?” asked Bumpus, looking concerned, as well he might, for every delay promised to make his task of rejoining his ailing mother more difficult.

“Let’s hope not,” said Thad; “but these Germans certainly do have the greatest secret service ever known. They get their news in a thousand ways, I’ve heard; and this war is going to give the world the biggest surprise it ever had.”

When Thad made that remark he little knew what wonderful things were fated to come to light connected with the spy system of Germany, which would prove to be the most elaborate ever conceived by any nation, modern or otherwise.

“Next to Americans, they’re the most wonderful people under the sun!” boldly declared Giraffe, whose ancestors had lived along that same Rhine river, so that he could not help but feel very kindly toward the whole Teuton race.

There was Bumpus who was on the other side of the fence, for the Hawtrees came of good old English stock. Hence he and Giraffe often had friendly little tilts, each standing up for the land from which his ancestors sprang. That little remark about the “beefeaters” was meant as a sort of sly slur at Bumpus by the boy with the long neck, though for once it failed to arouse any comment.

Having been compelled to pass the city in order to find the boatyard to which they had been directed, the boys were on the northern side of Cologne at the time they began their long tramp. Little did they dream what amazing incidents were fated to fall to their portion before that journey came to an end. It would have thrilled them through and through could they have guessed even one-half of the hardships and the adventures that awaited them on their bold undertaking.

With small bundles thrown over their shoulders after the manner of scouts’ knapsacks, they left the river behind them and faced the west.

“We’ve enjoyed meeting you, Old Father Rhine,” said Giraffe, waving his hand toward the stream as though he looked on it as a very good friend, “and we’ll always keep a little corner of our memory sacred to this glorious trip; but we’ve got something to handle now that’s a heap more serious than just loafing in a pleasure boat, and eating three square meals a day.”

“First of all,” said Thad, “we might pin the little miniature American flags we brought with us to our coat lapels. Then folks can see that we are Yankees, and not Britishers.”

“But we haven’t run across much bad feeling for the English among the Germans,” Bumpus ventured to say.

“Huh! wait and see what happens if Great Britain dares to take up the challenge the Kaiser’s thrown down when he crossed the Belgian border,” asserted Giraffe. “The first shot a British man-o’-war takes at a German vessel and it’s going to be unsafe to talk in English over here. You’ll even have to change that snore of yours, Bumpus, and give it a Dutch twist. Now if your name was only Gottlieb you’d pass for a native easy enough, with your red face and round figure.”

Thus chatting they made their way along the road leading away from the city to the cathedral. Many persons they chanced to meet gave them a respectful salute, no doubt at first thinking they might belong to one of the German troops of Boy Scouts so common all over the empire. When they glimpsed those tiny flags which the four lads so proudly wore, their eyebrows went up and they were noticed to say things in an undertone, one to another.

On several occasions Thad thought it best for them to step off the road and settle down in some fence corner, or under a shed it might be. Each of these times there passed a company of soldiers hurrying toward the city, and evidently making for a mobilization point so that they might occupy a place previously arranged for in the grand concentration scheme of the nation’s army.

These delays were not numerous, but they served to hold the boys up more or less, so that by the time noon came they had not covered more than three miles of territory beyond the suburbs of Cologne.

“There’s a ramshackle old car stalled over yonder,” Thad announced about this time, “and I propose that we see if anything can be done to hire or buy it. All good cars are seized by the military on sight, but they’d pass such a wreck by. If we find we can repair it, and can get even five miles an hour out of the machine, it’d be our policy to commandeer it, if our pocketbook will stand the strain.”

CHAPTER III.
GIRAFFE MAKES A BARGAIN.

“That’s the stuff, Thad,” declared Bumpus, enthusiastically.

No one considered this an odd remark for the stout boy to make, because they knew from past experience that he was not an ardent pedestrian. Bumpus was not built for action along those lines; he “het up” too easily, as he was fond of explaining, and even now could be seen mopping his perspiring brow with his bandanna handkerchief.

The man with the disabled car was so busily engaged that he did not notice the approach of the four chums until they reached the spot. Apparently he was about ready to give it up as a bad job, for he scratched his head helplessly, and had a look of utter chagrin on his face as he turned toward them.

Thad had previously asked Giraffe to conduct the negotiations, using his best German to produce results.

The man was apparently some small tradesman in one of the towns so thickly scattered about that region. He stared hard at the boys, understanding immediately that they had a foreign look. Still the Rhine country attracted many thousands of pilgrims each year, and myriads of honest people helped out their living by what the tourists left behind them; so he must have been used to seeing strangers.

Perhaps the news that had reached his ears concerning the breaking out of war may have been the cause of his puzzled look.

While Giraffe engaged him in conversation, the others took a look at the engine of the car. Both Thad and Allan had a fair smattering of mechanical knowledge, and it did not take them long to size the situation up, as the latter termed it.

“An old rattlebox, sure enough, Thad,” observed Allan, knowing that the owner could not very well understand what he was saying.

“I’ve seen a few worse machines, but I believe I could count them on the fingers of one hand,” the patrol leader admitted.

“It’s easy to see what the matter is, though the man doesn’t seem to know,” was what Allan remarked next.

“Yes, and so far as that goes it can be remedied without a great amount of time and trouble,” continued Thad.

“Would it pay us to make an offer for the discard?” asked Bumpus, anxious to have a little say in the matter.

The other two exchanged looks.

“Let’s take another squint at the thing before we decide,” remarked Thad.

“Agreed,” his chum added. “I never did like to buy a pig in a poke, as they used to say.”

Once more they examined the engine, and then took a look at each of the pretty well-used tires. Meanwhile Giraffe had exhausted his vocabulary, and both he and the old German owner of the stranded car stood and watched what the others were doing.

Bumpus bustled around like a busy beaver. From the way he poked his head under the hood of the machine, touched this part of the machinery and then that, one would have thought he might be an experienced mechanic; and yet what Bumpus did not know about such things would fill many volumes. But then it pleased him to look wise.

“Did you ask him if he cared to sell the old trap, Giraffe?” questioned Thad.

“Yes,” the other scout replied, “I put it up to him, and he told me he didn’t care if he did, providing he could get his price, and that it was in cash.”

“The cash part we could meet easily enough,” continued the scout leader, “but I’d want to know what sort of a price he means to put on the wreck. It’s of little use to him as it stands, for he can’t do a thing with it.”

“I told him so,” said Giraffe, “and that if we chose to buy the car it would only be to have a little fun out of it, and then throw the old tub in the discard.”

“It’s only fit for the scrap heap,” ventured Bumpus, pompously.

“Well, get him to set a price on it, spot cash, and if it’s too high we’ll step out with shank’s mare again,” Thad told the negotiator.

Accordingly Giraffe brushed up his high-school German and set to work. The man listened to what he was saying, nodding his head meanwhile. His eyes had a cunning look in them Thad thought, that seemed to tell of covetousness.

“Whew!” they heard Giraffe say in an explosive way, after the other had committed himself.

“What is his lowest figure in cash?” asked Thad.

“He nearly took my breath away,” declared the other; “actually asks five hundred marks for an old trap like this!”

“It’s highway robbery, that’s what!” commented Bumpus, in dismay.

“He says all the decent cars are being taken over by the military authorities,” continued Giraffe; “and that this sort of machine is the only kind that it’s safe to own.”

“Well, so far as that goes he’s right,” admitted Allan.

“Yes, but he couldn’t get twenty-five dollars for the tub if he put it up at auction!” Bumpus asserted, just as though he were an authority on all such subjects; “and here he asks a plump hundred for the bunch of scrap iron.”

All the same Bumpus kept an eager eye fastened on Thad, as though he were in hopes the patrol leader might yet find some way to negotiate a deal; for Bumpus would a thousand times rather travel in the slowest and most uncertain car ever known than to walk.

“Offer him two hundred marks cash down,” said Thad; “and that’s a heap more than it’s worth. The balance is for the accommodation. We’ll likely throw it away after we’ve used it a bit.”

“All right, just as you say, Thad,” remarked Giraffe, and turning to the German owner of the car he started in once more to dicker.

He had hardly gotten part-way through his speech before the others saw a broad smile appear on the red face of the man, who began to nod his head eagerly. At the same time he thrust out his hand toward Thad.

“What d’ye think of that, boys!” exclaimed Giraffe, apparently both surprised and disgusted; “he snapped me up like a flash. Two hundred marks it is, Thad, and the trap is ours for keeps.”

“Oh! why didn’t we set it at a hundred,” groaned Bumpus; “a fine lot of traders we are, I think. No David Harums in this bunch. We’re easy marks.”

“Yes, two hundred of them,” chuckled Allan.

Thad meanwhile, fearful lest the man might change his mind, counted out some bills and handed them over to Giraffe.

“Write out a receipt in German, Giraffe, and have him sign the same before you give him the money,” he told the go-between.

This Giraffe soon did, and the man signed it without hesitation. Then clutching the money, he said something to Giraffe, nodded his head several times to the rest of the boys, and hurried away.

Somehow his actions, coupled with the way he glanced back over his shoulder several times caused the four scouts to look at each other in surprise.

“What do you think he means to do, now he’s got the money?” Bumpus asked.

“Oh! put for home and hide it away in a stocking, most likely,” Allan laughingly remarked.

“He acted as if he was afraid we’d repent, and want the money back,” suggested the patrol leader. “That price was about twice as much as the rattle-trap is worth, you see.”

“You don’t think he’s hurrying off to get into town and report that there are suspicious characters on the road who talk English, and may be spies from across the Channel?” ventured Giraffe, uneasily.

“Worse than that, it may be,” said Bumpus mysteriously.

“Explain what you mean, then,” demanded Giraffe.

“Mebbe he stole the car somewhere,” suggested the other, “and before we know it we’ll be hauled up for the job.”

The thought was far from pleasant. In the present disturbed state of the Rhine country any one who did not have the stamp of the Fatherland on his face and in his tongue was apt to fare harshly if placed under a cloud by any circumstances.

“Well, the sooner we get busy and fix up our new purchase the better, I should say, no matter where the man got it,” Allan went on to remark.

Thad thought the idea so good that, taking off his coat, he started in to working at the engine. He had enough experience to know what was wrong, and how to go about fixing the defect, with Allan at his back to give occasional bits of advice which helped out considerably.

Bumpus and Giraffe hovered around. They could not be of any material assistance, and did not want to get in the way so as to delay things. So they talked matters over, and every now and then would step closer to see how the workers might be getting along.

“I only hope she holds out till we’re safe over the border, don’t you, Giraffe?” remarked the fat boy, fanning himself with his hat, for the August day was pretty warm, and there did not happen to be a breath of wind blowing at the time.

“Yes,” replied the tall scout, “because once we get beyond where the fighting is we can move around without being held under suspicion.”

“There, Thad seems to be fixing things up, and I do believe he’s going to try the engine to see if it works!” exclaimed Bumpus.

It took several efforts to get the result Thad was after, but all at once the loud thumping told that he had succeeded.

“Hurrah!” cried Bumpus, showing signs of excitement.

“All aboard!” exclaimed Thad.

Fortunately the car happened to be headed in the direction they wished to go, so there was no necessity for turning, which might not have been an easy task. All of them soon stowed themselves away in the body of the car, though it required some crowding, due principally to the fact that one of their number took up enough space for two ordinary fellows. Of course that was not the fault of poor Bumpus, who was willing to squeeze himself into as small a cavity as he possibly could.

When Thad started the car they actually found themselves moving along at what seemed to be a fair rate of speed, after their recent slow progress afoot.

Bumpus almost held his breath for a short time. He acted as though he feared he must be dreaming, and that he would presently awaken to a bitter disappointment.

After they had actually covered a full mile, and the machine was still moving ahead, Bumpus could restrain his exultation no longer.

“Ha! this is the life!” he exclaimed with a broad smile on his happy face. “A fellow would be a fool to walk when he could sit here in his own private car and whirl along the highway at this dizzy pace of five miles an hour. Thad, that was a dandy idea of yours about buying the wreck; and Giraffe, I want to give you great credit for doing the bargaining. Here we are headed for Belgium in fine shape, and with our cares yet to come.”

Being boys, and with abounding spirits, they did not believe in crossing bridges before they came to them. So while unaware of what the uncertain future might hold for them they did not mean to worry. It was enough, as Bumpus said, that the present looked sunny, with not a cloud on the horizon.

In that jolly frame of mind they started to do the next mile with slightly increased speed, as the engine “got its second wind,” as Giraffe called it.

CHAPTER IV.
THE BLOCKED WAY TO THE BORDER.

They passed over a second and even a third mile without having any trouble. Now and then they overtook or met people on the road but although the natives stared at seeing four boys in khaki riding in that dilapidated old car they did not offer to molest them.

Thad knew, however, that they had a rocky road to travel, for many times they must run up against soldiers, who would not be apt to let things pass so easily.

“We’re coming to a bridge ahead there, that spans the river,” he told the other three presently.

“I wonder will it be guarded,” remarked Giraffe; “I’ve heard so much about the wonderful way every little thing has been mapped out in case of war being declared by Germany, that I reckon each man, young and old, knows just what his part is to be, and has rushed off to do it the first thing when the news came.”

“Yes,” added Thad, “we were told that the older men of the Landstrum would stay at home and guard bridges, water plants, Zeppelin sheds, gun factories and all such places. And unless my eyes deceive me I caught the glint of the sun on steel at that bridge right now.”

“Yes, that’s a fact, Thad; I see soldiers, and they’re watching us come on,” Allan observed, with a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

It was with more or less anxiety then that the scouts approached the bridge.

“I don’t suppose it would be wise to risk rushing it!” said Bumpus, and the idea of such a thing was so ridiculous that Giraffe laughed aloud.

“Just imagine us bearing down on the guard in this wheezy old trap!” he exclaimed; “why, old Don Quixote on Rosenante wouldn’t be a circumstance to us. He fought windmills, and we’d have to tackle German soldiers armed with guns. Well, our only chance would be to scare them nearly to death, so they’d be unable to shoot.”

“We’ll not think of taking any such risk,” said Thad, severely, though of course he knew very well Giraffe was only joking.

With many a groan the car was brought to a stand at the bridge. Three middle-aged men in uniform stepped up, and one who seemed to be a non-commissioned officer addressed them in German.

Of course it devolved on Giraffe to do the honors, and so he proceeded to tell just who they were, how they came to be on the Rhine, and how necessary it was that they get back to Antwerp so as to take the sick lady away.

All this had been arranged between Giraffe and Thad beforehand; and possibly the former had practiced his speech at a previous time, so that there might be no hitch.

Meanwhile Bumpus was waiting and listening, hoping for the best. The gruff old German soldier looked at their passports, and then at the little American flag which each one of them had fastened to the lapel of his khaki coat.

He shook his head, and it was in the negative, Bumpus noticed, with a spasm in the region of his heart.

Then followed some more conversation between Giraffe and the soldier; after which the former turned to his comrades with a look of pain on his long face.

“He says we’ve got to turn and go back to Cologne again, boys,” Giraffe informed them. “He has his orders to not let a single person cross the bridge who doesn’t live around here, and is known.”

“But we are Americans, and he might have some consideration for us,” complained Allan, though he knew just as well as anything, from the severe look of the soldier, that talking would be useless.

“It makes no difference,” Giraffe said, “orders are orders with him. I really believe if the Kaiser himself should come along he’d have to go back again. He says we might as well give over our foolish scheme of getting across the border into Belgium, now that war has been declared, and the fighting is going on.”

Poor Bumpus looked heart-broken.

“Then we’ll have to give up this beautiful car, and just when we were getting so used to it, too,” he fretted, as though that were the worst and most cruel blow of all.

Thad knew it was folly to think of trying to swerve that old man, who had an iron jaw, and may have been with the army many years ago when Paris was taken and France humbled.

“Well, we must make out we’re going to do what he suggests, anyway,” he said, in a low tone to the others.

Then he began to maneuvre so as to make the turn. It required some dexterity, for the old car did not respond to the wheel very readily. In the end, however, the turn was negotiated successfully, without any accident. Bumpus had been clutching the side nearest him as though fearful lest they might be precipitated down the embankment into the river.

It was with despondent faces that the boys started back along the road which they had so recently traveled in such high spirits. Bumpus, however, believed that things were not utterly hopeless. He had caught the words spoken by Thad, and to his mind they could have but one meaning.

“Do we give up the ship at the first storm, Thad?” he asked plaintively.

“We have to make a show of doing what they ordered, you know,” explained the pilot at the wheel; “but I noticed on that little map I bought in Mainz that there’s another good road leading to that Belgian border. We can try that and see what luck we have.”

“Was that it about a mile back, leading off to the right as we came along?” asked Allan, quickly, showing that he, too, had kept his eyes about him, as every wide-awake scout should at all times.

“Yes,” Thad told him.

“And you mean to take it, do you, Thad?” demanded Bumpus, oh! so eagerly.

“We can make the try, and see what happens,” he was told. “Of course, if every bridge and culvert on the road has its guard, we’ll not be apt to get very far before we’re hauled up again.”

“Well, let’s all hope that if that happens it’ll be a man without that iron jaw, and one who might listen to reason,” Giraffe ventured, for he was feeling badly over the utter failure of his attempted negotiations with the guard.

They rode on in silence for a short time, and then Allan cried:

“There’s your road ahead, Thad; and we’ve lost sight of the bridge long ago, so they couldn’t see us dodging into the same. There are some people coming along, but they’ll not notice what we’re doing.”

“I hope you haven’t changed your mind, Thad?” remarked Bumpus, anxiously.

“Certainly not, Bumpus,” he was informed, and that satisfied the stout chum, for he sank back again into his place with a grunt.

It turned out that the second road was almost as good as the other, a fact that caused the boys to congratulate themselves more than once.

“They certain sure do know how to make roads over here in the Rhine country,” Giraffe declared; “fact is, they do about everything in a thorough way that makes a Yankee sit up and take notice. No slip-shod business will answer with these Germans.”

“Yes, they even turn you back when your passport is O. K., and you’ve got rights they ought to respect; they’re thorough all right, but it’s too much red tape to suit me,” Bumpus complained.

“No kicking yet awhile, Bumpus,” Giraffe warned him; “you notice that we’re still on the move, and headed for the upper corner of Belgium’s border. If we’ve got any decent sort of luck at all we ought to make the riffle.”

“I’m afraid we’re coming to some sort of town,” Thad told them, “and as there’s no way of turning out here we’ll have to take our chances.”

“I did see a side road back a piece,” remarked Allan.

“Yes, and running to the northwest in the bargain,” added Giraffe.

“That would mean if it kept on straight it would finally bring up at the Holland border, wouldn’t it?” Bumpus wanted to know.

“I don’t suppose we’re twenty miles away from Holland right now,” said Allan.

“If we had to come to it, would you try to get across the line there, Thad?” asked the stout boy, and when he was told that “half a loaf would be a lot better than no bread,” he seemed to be satisfied that all was not lost.

As they proceeded the evidences of a town ahead of them became more and more evident. Neat houses, each with its well kept garden, could be seen on both sides of the road. Women and children, many of them wearing wooden shoes, stared at the car as it wheezed past, bearing the four boys.

Doubtless the sight of their khaki uniforms caused a general belief that they must in some way be attached to the army, for several boys ventured to give them a salute, which the pilgrims hastened to return in every instance.

“Even the kids over here have got the military spirit born in ’em,” remarked Bumpus, after a very small specimen had waved his hand in real soldierly fashion.

They were now entering the town, though it could hardly be called by so pretentious a name, since there was really but the one main street running through it, with others cutting across.

“Too bad!” they heard Thad say; “but we’re going to be held up again.”

Several soldiers stepped out in the road. One seemed to be an officer, from his uniform, though he did not carry a sword. He held up his hand in the manner of an autocrat who must be obeyed, and of course Thad stopped the car just before coming to the little squad. The other three soldiers carried guns, and with such an array of weapons it would certainly have been the height of folly for the boys to think of running the gantlet.

To the surprise of Thad, the officer spoke in excellent English. Perhaps he had at some time been stationed in England, or else in the United States, though that did not necessarily follow, as undoubtedly many Germans were proficient in other languages.

“You must turn back!” he said, severely; “I do not know that I would be exceeding my authority if I ordered your detention under arrest.”

“But we are American tourists, as our passports will show you, sir,” Thad explained; “and all we want to do is to leave the country. One of my comrades here has an invalid mother in Antwerp and he is wild to get to her, so he can take her back home to America. Surely you will not want to keep us here against our will, where we would be a burden on you, and with four more mouths to fill?”

“It is sad,” said the officer, with a shrug of his shoulders, “but now that war has been declared, and we do not know what will befall the Fatherland, we must do many things that would never happen in times of peace. So while I am sorry for the boy with the sick mother, it must not interfere with my orders, which were that no one should be allowed to pass on toward the Belgian border unless he showed proof that he was in the service of the Central Government.”

“I am sorry to hear you say that, sir,” Thad told him.

“There is still more,” continued the other, sternly; “this is the second warning you have had to turn back. We received word by telephone from the bridge to look out for four American boys in scout uniforms. Be careful how you risk a third offence, for I fear it would result in your being thrown into prison. And remember, it is a long way from the country of the Rhine to your Washington.”

What he said gave the four chums a cold feeling. They knew he meant that no matter how innocent of any intention to do wrong they might claim to be, if they persisted in breaking the rules laid down by the German Government for war times, why they must take the consequences, which could not be very pleasant.

All of those castles in the air which Bumpus had been conjuring up during their short ride now came tumbling in ruins to the ground.

“I guess we’ll have to give it up, fellows,” he groaned, “and take our medicine the best way we can. We’ve tried our hardest to get out of this beastly country; and no one can blame us for not succeeding. But I hate to think of my poor sick mother over there, waiting and waiting for me to come to help her, that’s what!”

CHAPTER V.
AT THE FERRY.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!”

Giraffe was one of those fellows with a disposition very much like a rubber ball; when crushed down by some sudden disappointment he would come up again on the rebound.

“Here’s that other road!” remarked Thad; “and do you see any one following after us, to watch, and find out what we do?”

“Nope, coast clear back here,” said Bumpus, nearly bursting a blood vessel in his endeavor to look.

Thereupon the pilot deliberately disobeyed the orders of the officer stationed in the town. He turned into the side road, and thus gave positive evidence of an intention to once more try to run the blockade. At the same time Thad understood what risks he was taking; only there may arise situations that demand radical cures, unless one means to lay down meekly and submit to Fate.

Bumpus began to show signs of renewed interest.

“It may be a case of two strikes, and then a swat over the fence for a home run, Thad!” he announced, after they had gotten well started along the new trail, which did not seem to be built along the same order as those other roads, though not at all bad in that dry season of the year, early August.

“Let’s hope so,” replied the pilot. “From the way this road runs we’ll have to give up all notion of getting across the line into Belgium. We’ll be lucky if we can make it Holland.”

“Well, along here where a tongue of Holland runs down between Germany and Belgium,” explained Allan, who had looked up these things on the map, “and which is a part of the Limberg country, it isn’t over twelve or fourteen miles across. There’s one place at the Holland town of Sittard where the gap can’t be much more than four miles, so you see how easy it would be for us to run across that neck, and land in Belgium.”

“With this lightning car,” observed Giraffe, “we’d hit the border, give one grand splurge, and then bring up on Belgian soil.”

“Limberg, you said, didn’t you, Allan?” remarked Bumpus; “I guess I know now where that strong cheese comes from. I only hope we don’t strike any factories on the way. It always makes me feel faint, you know.”

“Huh!” snorted Giraffe, the taint of German blood coming to the surface, “that’s because some people don’t know a good thing when they strike it.”

“Well, Giraffe, you ought to be glad then that I don’t, because sometimes you complain of my appetite, as if I could help being always hungry.”

“Thad, of course we’re bound to strike that river again, if we keep on heading into the northwest?” suggested Allan.

“Yes, for it runs into Holland on its way to the sea far above where we hope to cross,” admitted the other.

“This doesn’t seem to be a very important road, for we haven’t come across a single soul on it so far,” Allan suggested, significantly.

“And from the marks of wheels I’d be inclined to believe few vehicles ever come this way,” continued the patrol leader; “but what makes you say that, Allan?”

“Oh! I was only wondering if it really kept on to the river, or turned back after a bit,” the other explained.

“That is, you hardly think such a road would deserve a bridge, which must be a pretty costly proposition, the way they build them over here, to last for centuries; is that it, Allan?”

“Yes, you’ve struck it to a fraction, Thad. Now, supposing there should only be a ford for a crossing, we couldn’t take this car over.”

“Certainly not,” came the ready reply; “but the fact that so many cars travel the roads of Germany in these modern days makes me feel pretty sure there will be some kind of way for getting over the river, even without a bridge.”

“Do you mean by a ferry?” asked Giraffe.

“More than likely,” he was told, “but we’re going to know right away, for I had a little glimpse of the river through those trees back there. We ought to be there in a jiffy.”

A “jiffy” might mean almost anything, but with that slow car it stood for more than five minutes. Then Allan heard Giraffe, who had abnormal vision, give an ejaculation that had a smack of satisfaction about it.

“It’s a ferry, I guess, Thad!” said the tall scout, who had that neck of his stretched to an enormous extent that gave him a great advantage over his comrades.

“What makes you say so?” asked Bumpus, who could see absolutely nothing as yet.

“I notice a rope stretched across the river,“ Giraffe told him, “and yes, there’s some sort of a barge or float up at the landing on this side.”

Allan just then announced that he, too, could see what Giraffe was trying to describe, and there could be no doubt about its being a ferry.

“Here’s luck!” cried Bumpus, puffing out with new expectations.

“Let’s hope they haven’t gone and stuck a soldier alongside the ferryman so as to keep him straight!” grunted Giraffe; “and, Thad, I suppose I’ll have to do the interpreter act again, if the chap doesn’t talk United States?”

“We depend on you for that, Giraffe,” he was told.

The road led directly down to the edge of the water. There was some sort of landing there at which the ferryboat put up. It allowed the traveler who had a vehicle of any sort to pass directly from the shore on to the deck of the monitor which was used for a ferryboat.

No one was in sight when they first arrived.

“If he doesn’t show up couldn’t we take charge of the boat and run her across to the other side?” Bumpus was asking, as though about ready to try anything once.

“Toot your horn, Thad, and see if it’ll wake him up,” Allan suggested. “There’s so little to do on his lay that p’raps the ferryman takes a nap between trips.”

“That’s a good idea,” assented Thad, and accordingly he used the auto horn to some advantage, making certain doleful sounds that were easily calculated to awaken any sound sleeper.

Immediately a man appeared in view. He may have been taking a nap for all they ever knew. He was an old fellow wearing wooden shoes and a knit cap. As he approached the car he seemed to look them over curiously. Probably it was seldom indeed that any one outside of the natives came his way.

“See him take in our little American flags, will you?” remarked Bumpus, while Giraffe entered into a labored conversation with the ferryman; “he must know what they stand for, too, because I could see his eyes light up when he first noticed the same.”

Giraffe at that moment turned to them.

“Yes, you’re right about that, Bumpus,” he said; “this man says he has a son and his family out in Cincinnati, and wants to know if we’ve ever met Hans Kreitzner. I told him I wasn’t quite sure, because there were some people in America I’d never yet run across, though I hoped to round them all up later on.”

“Don’t josh the poor old fellow, Giraffe,” urged Bumpus; “as for me, I’m so glad because we haven’t run across a pesky military guard here at the ferry I’d be willing almost to promise to look his son up when I got back home—by mail, of course, and tell him I’d met his respected paw.”

“How about taking us on his ferryboat, Giraffe?” asked Thad.

“I hope he hasn’t got his strict orders, like all the rest of the men we’ve run across to-day,” ventured Allan.

Giraffe nodded his head in a way that stood for hope.

“Seems to be all right, fellows,” he assured them. “Old Hans here has agreed to set us over on the other side. Perhaps when I promised to double his fee it made him jump after the silver hook more nimbly.”

“Yes, there he goes now to get his ropes unfastened,” said Bumpus. “Whew! from the way he’s tied the old batteau up I should think he hadn’t had a passenger all this day. He’s as slow as molasses in winter, and that can’t be beaten.”

Giraffe looked at the speaker and grinned. When Bumpus called anything “slow” it must move about as tediously as an ice wagon, or one of those enormous German guns drawn over the hard roads by a powerful traction engine.

“Let me crawl out first, Thad,” the fat boy remarked, “if you’re meaning to move the car aboard the ferryboat.”

“Bumpus is afraid of you, Thad!” cried Giraffe; “he thinks you may make a slip and dump the whole business over the side of the boat; and Bumpus doesn’t care to go in swimming with his suit on. If it should shrink when he tried to dry it, whatever would he do for another?”

All the same, Giraffe himself was not averse to leaving the little old car while Thad was taking it carefully aboard the flatboat used as a ferry, showing that he might be just as guilty as Bumpus.

“Well, now!” exclaimed the fat scout on noticing that even Allan joined them, “seems like we might all be in the same boat, doesn’t it?”

“We expect to be, right away,” Giraffe told him, calmly.

Thad did not let the car play any trick. He soon had it aboard the ferry, and about as well balanced as any one could have accomplished. The old man had just about finished undoing the last rope, and in another minute they might expect to find themselves moving out toward the opposite shore, by means of the pulley fastened to the rope above, and the long stout pole which was intended for pushing in the shallow water.

“Thad, there’s somebody coming on a gallop up there!” announced Giraffe just then; “and I do believe it’s a mounted soldier in the bargain!”

“Oh! thunder!” gurgled Bumpus, almost collapsing; “that’s always the way things go. We get just so far, and then the string pulls us back again.”

“Don’t let on that you see him,” said Thad, quickly. “The old man is pretty deaf I should say from the way you shouted at him, Giraffe. He doesn’t hear the man calling. Now, if he is so busy pushing off that he fails to look up, we ought to be half way out in the stream before that horse gets down to the bank.”

“He’s coming with a rush, I tell you!” said Giraffe, who had better opportunities for seeing than any of the others, so that it did appear as though at times it paid to have a neck that would stretch.

The ferryman had now thrown off the last rope and was stooping down to take hold of the setting pole. Another minute or so would decide the question.

Bumpus was so worked up that he could not keep still. As usual, he advanced some wild idea, for while not as a rule fertile in expedients there were times when it seemed as though that slow brain of the stout boy worked furiously.

“There, hang the luck, fellows, the ferryman has seen him!” burst out Bumpus, in the deepest disgust; “he’s going to wait up for the soldier, and take him aboard.”

“Our cake will be dough,” added Giraffe, gloomily, “if it happens that the man on horseback comes from the town where we got turned back, and orders us to go back with him, to be shut up in a German dungeon. I’ve heard a lot about what terrible nasty places those fortress prisons are, but I never thought I’d be in danger of finding out for myself.”

“Do we have to give in so tamely as all that?” asked Bumpus, with a spurt of spirit that would have become a warrior; “suppose now he does try to browbeat us, ought four husky scouts from good old America get down and kiss the shoes of just one bullying German soldier, because he wears a helmet on his head. Thad, it’s up to you to say the word, and we’ll all jump on him!”

“Don’t be so rash, Bumpus!” Giraffe warned him, while Thad said:

“We’ll wait and see what happens before we lay plans that must make every man of the Kaiser’s army our enemy. Here he comes now. Every one keep a still tongue in his head but Giraffe; and while about it let’s hide these little flags. If he asks who we are tell him the truth, though, remember, Giraffe!”

CHAPTER VI.
SCOUT TACTICS.

The horseman was now coming down the bank. Already he seemed to eye the four passengers aboard the ferryboat, as though they interested him more or less.

“Giraffe,” muttered Thad.

“What is it?” asked the other, in a whisper.

“You might take occasion to ask the ferryman while we’re crossing, whether we can strike the road leading north to Grevenbroich, after getting over. Get that name, do you?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it as a sort of blind,” continued the other; “he’ll naturally believe we’re meaning to put up there instead of heading across country.”

The man was undoubtedly a soldier, but Thad came to the conclusion that he must now be on some important mission rather than simply riding to a concentration camp. In fact, he soon decided in his own mind the other might be a dispatch-bearer, for he noticed what seemed to be a small leather pouch partly hidden under his long coat.

They were soon moving across the stream. The man had dismounted before leading his horse aboard the craft, since the animal showed positive signs of not liking the ill-smelling old car. None of the scouts blamed the intelligent animal either, for the mingled odor of gasoline and burnt grease was anything but pleasant; although they believed that “beggars should never be choosers,” and that it was bad luck to “look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Giraffe did not forget his instructions. When they were about half-way across he spoke to the old ferryman, and apparently asked for directions about the way to the town mentioned by Thad, for he plainly said “Grevenbroich.”