Boy Scouts In Russia

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE ESCAPE

  "What's the matter with him, Schmidt!" asked the officer.

  Fred knew enough of German uniforms by this time to place him as alieutenant of the lowest grade, and was thankful that he did not have anexperienced man to deal with.

  "Deaf and dumb, I think, Herr Lieutenant," said the man. "I rode upbehind him, calling to him and making a good deal of noise, but he didnot even know I was coming until I was on top of him."

  "Well, he can't go this way!" said the lieutenant. "How are we to makehim understand that?"

  "If I dismounted and turned him about, he might perhaps understand,"said the soldier.

  "Try it!"

  Fred had hard work to conceal his amusement but he managed it. Thesoldier solemnly turned him about and pushed him in the direction whencehe had come. But Fred immediately turned around, walked a couple ofpaces as he had been going, and then stopped, smiling broadly. Then heturned around, shook his head violently, and turned back.

  "He's trying to tell us he wants to keep on the way he was going," saidthe lieutenant.

  The two Germans seemed to be puzzled, but then the officer got an idea.He produced paper and pencil and wrote hurriedly.

  "Who are you? Where are you going?" he wrote. Then he handed the paperto Fred. Fred hesitated for a moment. He understood German and couldtalk it very well. But he was a little nervous about writing it,especially in the German script. He could write it, but he was not surethat he could write it so well that it would seem like the work of aGerman. However, he took the chance.

  "My name is Gebhardt," he wrote. "I come from Munich, and I am visitingmy uncle and aunt here at Gumbinnen. My uncle sent me to Insterberg andthen I found I could not go back by train. Soldiers have made me turnaround so many times that it has taken me all this time to get here. Whycan I not go to Gumbinnen?"

  The officer took the paper and, when he had read it, told the soldier.They seemed to find Fred's explanation plausible, and his writing hadpassed muster.

  "Here is a fine mess!" said the lieutenant. "Poor boy! I feel sorry forone with such an affliction! And is he not between the devil and thedeep blue sea? In Gumbinnen there will be Russian cavalry byto-morrow--and at Insterberg, I suppose, the first real battle will befought!"

  Fred caught his breath. He was getting what he wanted now, certainly! Ifonly he did not betray himself! If the officer would only go on and tellhim a little more! And he did go on, almost as if he were speaking tohimself.

  "If his people have any sense, they will have cleared out of Gumbinnenbefore this. He knows someone at Insterberg, perhaps, but if it is theplan to let the Russians come so far without fighting and then strikewhile they are there, the population will have been ordered out. Andthey have been unloading troop trains at Insterberg, too--so that theRussians would not find out how many men we had here. Eh--take him upbehind you, Schmidt! We can't abandon him. Perhaps the hospital peopleor the cooks can make some use of him."

  Fred heard this with a start of dismay. It was decidedly more than hehad bargained for, because now that he had the information he had cometo get, he wanted to get back to the wireless as quickly as possible. Itdid him no good to know the German plan, or to have a hint of what itwas, unless he could pass on his knowledge to those who could make someuse of it. But he could not protest when the officer wrote down anexplanation of what was to be done with him, telling him that the roadto Gumbinnen was not safe, but that he would see to it that Fred shouldget to a safe place.

  So when the soldier Schmidt patted his horse's back and indicated thatFred should climb up, Fred had no choice but to obey. He had plenty tothink of, too, as they rode along. For one thing, while he had taken hischance and won, since this officer had not seen him before, there wasevery prospect that he would be recognized if he were now taken toheadquarters. He supposed that that was where they were going, and heknew that a number of the officers who had left the parsonage withGeneral von Hindenburg on the night of the Cossack raid would bepresent. It would be strange, indeed, if none of them knew him. And ittook no imagination to guess what recognition would mean.

  There was just one thing in his favor now. It was beginning to get dark.He did not know how far they had to ride, but he hoped it was a longway. Ordinarily, he would not have wanted the ride to be prolongedbecause his position was highly uncomfortable. Fred could ride wellhimself, but riding alone on a horse and sitting behind a man who fillshis own saddle with very little to spare are two different things.

  Try as he would, Fred could not think of a means of getting away. Toescape from five mounted men by slipping off the horse and running forit was manifestly impossible. He gave up that idea before he evenelaborated upon it. But soon the glimmering dawn of an idea did come tohim. The pace slackened, and he noticed that he and Schmidt were fallingbehind. The lieutenant called out sharply, and Schmidt, growling tohimself beneath his breath, used his spur and brought his horse up intoalignment with the others again. But only for a hundred yards or so.Then the horse faltered and fell behind again. Now the lieutenantreproved Schmidt sharply.

  "I'm sorry, Herr Lieutenant," said Schmidt. "My poor beast is verytired, and he is carrying an extra burden. He has had more work to doto-day than any of the others. If you would permit me to drop behind andcome in alone--it is not so far now?"

  "Very well," said the lieutenant. "We'll never get there if we hangback waiting for you." And he gave the word to ride on.

  Schmidt at once began to take things more easily. Fred heard himgrunting to himself.

  "Those verdamter young officers!" he grumbled. "Just because they have apair of shoulder straps, they think they know it all! I would like toput some of them across my knee!"

  Fred knew enough of German discipline to be vastly amused by this. Buthe had no time now to think of trifling things. His whole energy wasdevoted to finding some way to turn this new circumstance to his ownadvantage. It seemed to him that there ought to be some way of managingit. And in a moment he got the idea. Schmidt was as tired as his horse,or even more so, and by this time he was swaying in his saddle and halfasleep, as a trained horseman often does. Fred leaned forward and veryquietly cut the saddle girth almost through. He knew that the slighteststrain would finish the work. Schmidt was utterly unconscious of whatwas going on. Fred could tell, from the man's breathing, just what hiscondition was. He would snore a little and then, with a start, he wouldarouse himself, breathing normally for a minute. Then the snoring wouldstart again. He was trusting himself entirely to his horse.

  Dusk had fallen now, and Fred decided that it was time to see if hisplan was feasible. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, rolled itinto a ball, and flung it straight ahead, so that it fell, unrolling,right before the horse's eyes. The effect was inevitable. The frightenedhorse reared. At the strain the severed girth gave, and the saddle,rolling, spilled both Schmidt and Fred into the road, while the horsebolted. Fred lay still, watching Schmidt, who rose, cursing fluently,and stood for a moment staring stupidly after his horse. Then he beganto call, and broke into the awkward, lumbering run of the cavalryman.

  Fred might have slipped away then, but he was sure that Schmidt wouldcatch the horse, which must, he thought, be trained to stop even after amomentary panic. And it was not his plan to seize a chance that mightafter all not be as good as it looked. He wanted to make as sure aspossible of getting away. And now, as soon as Schmidt had started afterthe horse, he crawled over to the saddle, which lay where it had fallen.He took the heavy revolver from the holster and was duly grateful forone thing he had noticed--these Uhlans carried no carbines. Their onlyweapons, seemingly, were their lances and the revolvers in theirholsters.

  He was not a moment too soon. Schmidt came back almost at once, leadinghis horse. He was scolding it for running, and he was also expressinghis opinion of government saddles and leather. He found the brokengirth, and sat down at once to mend it. Fred scarcely dared to breathefor a moment. But Schmidt did not notice t
he empty holster, and thoughhe growled and swore when he saw how the girth had snapped, he did notseem to notice that it had been cut almost through.

  Fred went over and looked at him. Then, idly, indifferently, he went tothe horse, which was standing perfectly still, though its flanks werestill heaving. Fred patted the horse's head. Schmidt glanced around athim. His back was turned, and he seemed to see nothing worthy ofattention in Fred's attitude.

  And then, with one spring, Fred was on the horse's back, and, bendinglow, was urging the tired animal back over the road he had travelled soslowly. With a cry of mingled rage and surprise Schmidt leaped up andbegan shouting. But the horse, ready enough to obey when it was runningriderless away, now obeyed the more convincing orders of its rider.Fred, moreover, was a welcome contrast to Schmidt's big bulk; there wasa difference of at least seventy pounds.

  Fred turned once to look at Schmidt, and saw him staring with anexpression of stupefaction at the empty holster. Then he devoted himselfentirely to the road ahead. It was as he had thought and hoped; Schmidtdid not have another pistol. And, with Fred urging him on, the horsegalloped on as if it had been really fresh.

  "Thank heaven he's stupid, that Schmidt!" thought Fred.

  Then he had a fit of remorse. He was afraid that it would go hard withSchmidt, for he knew that in the German army excuses are not readilyaccepted. However, it was not a time to think of sentiment. Fred wastaking desperate chances himself, and it had been a case of seizing anychance of escape that offered itself. Not only his own liberty, but veryprobably his own life had depended upon his getting away. He knewenough, by this time, to understand that the outcome of the firstcampaign of the war might depend upon the accuracy of the informationthe Russians obtained of the German movements.

  It was plain to Fred that the Russians, in this quarter at least, hadnot been well served by their spies. He was surprised at the absence ofinitiative the Russians had shown in some ways. Aeroplane scouting, forinstance, would have made it impossible for the Germans to spring such asurprise as evidently was in preparation. The Germans were using theiraerial scouts. It was one of them, detecting the approach of GeneralSuvaroff and his Cossack raiders, who had spoiled the plan for thecapture of von Hindenburg.

  But though he had felt that he was perfectly justified in sacrificingSchmidt to his own need to escape, Fred could not help feeling sorry forthe poor fellow.

  "I hope he'll be able to think up a good story!" he said to himself."And, by George, I hope I don't meet any more German soldiers! Theywould certainly finish me off if they found me riding on a German horse!There isn't anything I could do that would make them think that was allright, no matter how stupid they were!"

  He urged his horse on now as hard as he dared, tired though he knew itto be. His plan was simple enough. He meant to ride to within a mile ofthe village, and then dismount, letting the horse go wherever it liked.Its usefulness to him would be over as soon as it had put him past thepossibility of pursuit. He thought his troubles were nearly over. Butsuddenly, around a turn in the road, came a glare of light, and in hisears sounded the bugle of a German military automobile.