CHAPTER XIV
ATHOL TACKLES VON SECKER
MAKING a long detour Athol eventually rejoined the road leading toWeert, this time quite two miles from the frontier custom-house. Byhis watch, which fortunately had escaped the unwelcome attentions ofhis former captors, it was now half past three. Already the starswere beginning to pale before the first blush of dawn. Ahead he coulddiscern the quaint gabled roofs of the little town where the spySecker had taken up his temporary abode.
Crawling into a dry ditch, the now drowsy lad propped his backagainst the sloping side and dosed fitfully. Once he was awakened bythe measured tread of armed men. It was now broad daylight. Thesoldiers were Dutch troops going to relieve the frontier guards.
Lying at full length in the ditch he was unnoticed by the soldiers.Discovery at that early stage of the proceedings, although hispersonal liberty was not likely to be interfered with except for ashort duration of investigation, was most undesirable. He had beforehim a fixed purpose, far more important to the welfare of his countrythan was his own freedom.
"Enough sleep for the present," he exclaimed. "Why, it's close on sixo'clock, and, by Jove, I do feel peckish! Wonder what friend Steinhas in his voluminous pockets."
A search provided nothing in the victualling department. There were abundle of papers, including a Dutch passport and a permit for Jan vanWyck to cross the frontier; a purse containing fifteen gulden, someGerman marks and a few copper and iron coins--the latter having beenissued in Germany to replace the withdrawn copper currency; and, whatwas particularly handy, a large scale map of the district.
Practically unnoticed by the throng of country-folk, for it happenedto be market day, Athol entered the town. A cup of coffee and two hotrolls, purchased from a very deaf old Dutchwoman at a stall, servedto stave off the pangs of hunger, and the lad felt fit for thefurtherance of his daring venture.
It was as yet too early to pay a call at the Golden Key. On the otherhand it was not advisable to defer the visit until the hour mentionedby Herr Stein, for by that time the spy might have been warned of thefate that had overtaken his intermediary. Waiting, Athol found, wasthe most tedious part of the whole business. Thanks to his disguisehe attracted hardly any attention in the crowded market-place; nordid his ignorance of the Dutch language cause him any inconvenience,for the town was full of Germans, intent upon buying market produceat fabulously high prices.
Paper money, the lad noticed, passed freely, although at a low rateof exchange. The astute Dutchmen had learnt to profit by the fall ofthe mark, receiving payment in paper money and afterwards returningthe notes to Germany, where they were, by Imperial decree, to beaccepted at their face value. Judging by the conversation of theGerman customers, whose tongues wagged with a freedom unknown acrossthe frontier, the civilian element was chafing under the shortage offood and abnormal prices, and one and all seemed sick of the war,which showed no signs of ending, and certainly not with the dazzlingsuccess which the Kaiser had promised.
Half-past seven was chiming as Athol ascended the flight of stonesteps leading to the door of the Golden Key. In answer to his knock ashort and very fat elderly woman appeared, and curtly demanded thelad's business. Although the question was put in Dutch Athol guessedits purport, and, replying in German, asked if Mynheer Jan van Wycklodged there?
"Didn't you call upon him last night?" demanded the Dutchwomansharply.
Athol was temporarily taken aback. He was priding himself upon hisdiplomacy in asking for the spy under his Dutch _nom-de-guerre_, whenthe woman's question "shook the wind out of his sails."
Producing a couple of gulden Athol slipped the coins into the woman'shand, and solemnly winked his left eye. The result surpassed hiswildest expectations, for standing aside, the _vrouw_ motioned forhim to enter.
"Second door to the right on the first floor," she announced as shepocketed the money, and without paying further attention to Jan vanWyck's visitor she disappeared towards the back of the house.
Ascending the worn oak stairs Athol, making certain that his revolverwas ready to hand, tapped very softly upon the door. Receiving noanswer he rapped again. Then he heard a key turn in the lock and thedoor was opened for a space of about four inches.
The spy had only just got out of bed. He looked but half awake. Thatwas, possibly, why he failed to distinguish between the genuine HerrStein and his impersonator, the appropriated clothes being asufficient disguise.
"Come in," he growled. "You are much too early. Why didn't you givethe sign, or did you think I would not open if you did?"
Still grumbling, and with his face averted, von Secker shuffledacross the room to a table on which were spread several sheets ofdrawing paper and tracing cloth.
"You are still too early," he continued. "I suppose you are hereagain concerning the plans?"
"I am, Karl von Secker," said Athol sternly, at the same timecovering the spy with his revolver.
The effect of the words, spoken in English, was electrical. In aninstant the German's lassitude dropped from him like a sheddedgarment. Seizing a lead paper-weight from the table he poised it tohurl at the lad's head.
Athol hesitated. Not that he was lost, but because he was confrontedwith a tricky problem. Setting aside the compunction he felt atshooting down a man, even though he were a dangerous spy, he realisedthat the house would be alarmed at the report of the weapon. He wasout to regain possession of the battleplane's plans, not to gethimself arrested by the Dutch authorities on a charge of murder.
It was as if von Secker read his thoughts, for the spy, scowling andgrinding his teeth, made no further attempt to hurl the lump ofmetal. He, too, did not wish to be embroiled with the officials of aneutral government, although here was a good chance of making hisescape across the frontier.
Athol lowered his revolver. Von Secker replaced the paper weight,although he still kept his fingers in contact with it.
"You have come on a fool's errand, young man," snarled the spy.
Athol, regretting that he had not discarded his clumsy wooden shoes,looked his antagonist straight in the face.
"We shall see," he retorted, then dropping his revolver on the floor,he leapt upon the Hun.
Too late von Secker grasped the paper weight. The next instant bothantagonists were locked in mortal combat, Athol endeavouring to pinhis opponent's arms to his sides, while von Secker did his level bestto free his hands and employ the truly Hunnish trick of twisting hisfingers in the other's hair and clawing at his eyes with his thumbs.
As if by tacit consent they struggled in comparative silence, rollingover and over on the massive oaken floor. It was a test of Britishbrawn and endurance against German trickery and bodily weight, Atholstriving to deal the spy a stunning blow with his fist.
Once von Secker all but succeeded in blinding his antagonist. Hispodgy fingers were entwined in the British lad's short hair, and hislong thumb nails were scratching their way over Athol's forehead whenthe young subaltern butted violently. At the loss of a considerableamount of hair Athol succeeded in dealing the German a terrific blowat the chin with the top of his head.
Uttering a subdued yell of pain the spy relaxed his grip, thenclutched blindly at the lad's throat. Over and over they rolledagain, until in the course of the deadly struggle a charcoal stovewas overturned.
The glowing embers spreading across the floor emitted suffocatingfumes in the already ill-ventilated room, until it became evidentthat the result of the combat would depend upon which of the twaincould longest withstand the asphyxiating smoke.
Momentarily labouring under increasing shortness of breath, Atholperceived that the effects of the fumes upon the Hun were telling farmore than they did upon him. The German's furious efforts showedsigns of slackening. His yellow features grew livid. Great beads ofperspiration oozed from his receding forehead.
Wrenching himself clear Athol regained his feet.
"Do you give in?" he demanded.
Von Secker's reply was to draw up one leg and lash ou
t as hard as hecould. Although barefooted he could kick with the force of anexperienced Continental boxer. Struck heavily in the side Atholreeled half-way across the room, while his antagonist, quick to reapthe advantage, staggered to his feet. His strength was not equal tohis will power. His knees gave way under him as he lurched towardsthe lad.
Well-nigh maddened with the pain, the English lad saw an opening.Breaking through the German's guard he planted his left with terrificviolence on the point of the Hun's chin. The fight was over.
Far from showing elation over his victory Athol locked the door,threw open the casement and sat down in a chair. The fact that noneof the rest of the household had appeared upon the scene puzzled him.Perhaps, he argued, they were accustomed to brawls.
Recovering his breath he set to work to stamp out the still smokingcharcoal. This done he dragged the unconscious von Secker on to thebed and covered him with the clothes. Only a close examination wouldreveal the fact that he was not asleep.
The plans he folded into a small compass, applying pressure to makethem lie flat, and stowed them away under his uniform. The rest ofthe documents, including the spy's code and maps he thrust into thestove and set fire to them. Without the slightest compunction heexamined the contents of von Secker's pockets, taking his money,hotel coupons, a ticket on the Dutch State railways and a returnbetween the Hook of Holland and Harwich.
Unlocking the door the lad listened. Everything seemed normal.Somewhere from a remote part of the house came the sounds of pots andkettles being vigorously scoured.
Passing out and locking the door on the senseless spy, the lad creptdownstairs as silently as his wooden shoes would permit. The outerdoor was now ajar. Unseen he gained the open street, whichfortunately was in an unfrequented quarter. As he did so he heard theold Dutch woman who kept the Golden Key shouting a farewell. In spiteof his precautions she had heard his footsteps.
"The worst of doing things by stealth," thought Athol. "She will besuspicious." "What time does the public coach leave for thefrontier?" he asked, bestowing another tip. It was, he remindedhimself, some of von Secker's money.
"At half-past eight, from the Market Hall." she replied.
Athol set off in the opposite direction to the one he intendedtaking. It heightened the deception that he was making for thefrontier. Not until he had mingled with the throng in the marketsquare did he set of by a circuitous route, striking the Eindhovenroad.
At that town, he found out by consulting the map, he could take trainto Bois-le-Duc, and thence through Utrecht to the Hook.
"It won't be my fault if I am not home again within thirty-sixhours," he soliloquised. "So here goes. I wonder what von Secker willsay when he wakes up?"