A Boy Scout''s Courage

  CHAPTER VII-THE TRAP

  The bullet that sang over their heads effectually broke up thethreatened trouble between Dick Mercer and Jack Young on one side, andthe telephone linemen on the other. With one accord they obeyed thatguttural order, "Hands oop!"

  They had been so interested in one another and in the cut wire that noneof them had noticed the practically noiseless approach of a great greymotor car, with all lights out, that had stolen up on them. But now,with a groan, Dick and Jack both knew it for one of the Bray Park cars.So, after all, Dick's flight had been in vain. He had escaped theguards of Bray Park once, only to walk straight into this new trap.And, worst of all, there would be no Jack Young outside to help thistime, for Jack was a captive, too. Only-he was not!

  At the thought Dick had turned, to discover that Jack was not besidehim. It was very dark, but in a moment he caught the tiniest movementover by the hedge, and saw a spot a little darker than the rest of theground about it. Jack, he saw at once, had taken the one faint chancethere was, dropped down, and crawled away, trusting that their captorshad not counted their party, and might not miss one boy.

  Just in time he slipped through a hole in the hedge. The next momentone of the headlights of the grey motor flashed out, almost blinding thethree of them, as they held up their hands. In its light four men, wellarmed with revolvers, were revealed. "Donnerwetter!" said one. "I madesure there were four of them! So! Vell, it is enough. Into the carwith them!"

  No pretence about this chap! He was German, and didn't care who knewit. He was unlike the man who had disguised himself as an Englishofficer, at the house of the heliograph, but had betrayed himself andset this whole train of adventure going by his single slip and fall fromidiomatic English that Harry Fleming's sharp ears had caught. Dick, wasthrilled, somehow, even while he was being roughly bundled toward themotor. If these fellows were as bold as this, cutting telephone wires,running about without lights, giving up all secrecy and pretence, itmust mean that the occasion for which they had come was nearly over. Itmust mean that their task, whatever it might be, was nearlyaccomplished-the blow they had come to strike was about ready to bedriven home.

  "'Ere, who are you a shovin' off?" complained one of the linemen, as hewas pushed toward the motor. He made some effort to resist but the nextmoment he pitched forward. One of the Germans had struck him on thehead with the butt of his revolver. It was a stunning blow, and the manwas certainly silenced. Dick recoiled angrily from the sight, but hekept quiet. He knew he could do no good by interfering. But the sheer,unnecessary brutality of it shocked and angered him. He felt thatEnglishmen, or Americans, would not treat a prisoner so-especially onewho had not been fighting. These men were not even soldiers; they werespies, which made the act the more outrageous. They were serving theircountry, however, for all that, and that softened Dick's feeling towardthem a little. True, they were performing their service in a sneaky,underhanded way that went against his grain. But it was service, and heknew that England, too, probably used spies, forced to do so forself-defence. He realized the value of the spy's work, and the couragethat work required. If these men were captured they would not share thefate of those surrendering in battle but would be shot, or hung, withoutceremony.

  A minute later he was forced into the tonneau of the car, where he laycurled up on the floor. Two of the Germans sat in the cushioned seatwhile the two linemen, the one who had been hit still unconscious, werepitched in beside him. The other two Germans were in front, and the carbegan to move at a snail's pace. The man beside the driver beganspeaking in German; his companion replied. But one of the two behindinterrupted, sharply.

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

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

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

  "Ja, that is all arranged," said the leader, with a chuckle. "Not forlong-that could not be. But we need only a few hours more. By thistime tomorrow morning all will be done. He comes, Von Wedel?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "Listen, boy," said the leader. "You have seen things that were not foryour eyes. So you are to be put where knowledge of them will do noharm-for a few hours. Then you can go. But until we have finished ourwork, you must be kept. You shall not be hurt-I say it."

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

  "Get out," said the leader.

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

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

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

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

  He saluted, and for the first time Dick had the feeling that thisstrange procedure was, in some sense, military, even though there wereno uniforms. Then the door shut, and they were left in the house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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