CHAPTER XXVIII A MYSTERY SOLVED

Just after the scenes described in the foregoing chapter, there was comparative quiet along our front--the calm that follows a storm.

The British army under Haig had struck a staggering blow at Ludendorff’s northern lines, and had driven him back in defeat. This had seemingly withdrawn the German attention, or ability, to concentrate for the defeat of the American and French armies on their southwestern front.

General Burbank explained to me that it evidently was the policy of General Foch, while remaining in watchful touch with the enemy, to strengthen by rest and reorganization the forces that had for so long a time been hotly engaged at our part of the line; and in this way keep them fresh and vigorous for service.

I was favored through the kindness of the general in being allowed to take up my quarters in the same building with him. This gave me the benefit of his daily counsel and association, and was of inestimable value to me, both in increasing my military knowledge and improving my bearing. Both were needful for my further advancement as an officer as the general was so kind as to say that I was naturally endowed with the qualities of a good soldier. I valued this association and by daily contact with him grew more and more to love and admire my general.

Neither of us had, since the assurance he had so graciously given me of Jonathan’s loyalty, spoken on the subject; though my brain was still puzzled. It had, however, been a habit with me to put aside that which I could not understand, until circumstances or a flash of intuition, made its meaning clear. With me, the more I pondered over perplexing problems, the further was I from their solution.

General Burbank often discussed and explained to me the larger operations of war and, by suggestion, set me to thinking on them giving me thereby a clearer insight into its problems and greater love for the profession of a soldier.

After reveille one morning, the general called me to him. The moment I saw his face, I felt that he had something to communicate of more than usual interest. He simply handed me a message of three words in Jonathan’s minute and delicate handwriting, “_Saddle not ripped_.” And then, pointing to the saddle on his chair, said, “I have been at work all night and must get some sleep,” he left me. I guessed that the work he referred to was connected with another message from Jot.

I began without delay, cutting the stitches of the saddle until I found deftly concealed under the saddle’s lining, some papers in Jonathan’s handwriting addressed to me as follows:

“Dear Davie:

“When you receive this I may not be among the living; for suspicion and doubts of my loyalty to German interests at last have put the hounds of their secret service on my track. I have a foreboding as I begin this paper, that possibly I may never see you again in this life, and I can not let this chance pass without justifying my course to you. I would love to clasp your hand once more and die--if I must--under the Stars and Stripes.

“I am concealing this in Jack’s saddle, in the hope that it will come to your hands, and that you will understand my former message written with a purpose to deceive the enemy, and give to them a belief that I am loyal to their cause, though I have plotted for your escape. I think that you will understand.

“I know that your heart, dear David, has been torn with doubts of my loyalty, by evidences that have come to you.

“Before we had landed in France, your colonel had shown me the necessity of self-sacrifice, by presenting to me the needs of the secret service in France, and of my opportunity to render great service by appearing to serve the German cause. My brother, whom he knew, was already in that service; for whatever might be his faults, he loved the dear old flag and its cause. The strong resemblance between us suggested to him greater opportunities, by our working together, in obtaining information much needed by the Allies, of the German war plans.

“With this in view, and to give the enemy greater confidence in him, information of great seeming value was, by consent of the French, given him to convey to the Germans. Then he told the head of the German secret service, that he had a brother through whom he had gained the important information which he had given to them. The Germans, meanwhile, knew that he professed when in the Allied lines to be a spy for them. Adolph also suggested that I be encouraged to desert to the German lines. But the hard-headed chief of their secret service thought I could serve them better by remaining where I was. It was not until he had convinced them that I was in danger of arrest, and that the Americans might obtain information from me that would impair my brother’s usefulness as an agent of their secret service, that they consented to his plans.

“It was a bitter thing for me to leave you to believe that I was a traitor, and I did not take the course I did until convinced that it was needful for General Foch to have more intimate knowledge of the situation of the German troops on the southern front.

“I had promised my mother to be unswervingly loyal to the flag of my country. My father had been an officer of the Confederate service, and after the surrender had come North. Her constant admonition to me was to be true under all circumstances, to the flag of my country and be worthy of being called ‘Jed’s boy.’

“The thought of using Muddy in furtherance of my designs had long been planned, but my scheme for using Jack was not conceived until after I found that I could buy him, and had tested his wonderful intelligence for that service.

“The enemy was led to believe that others high in the confidence of the American commander were willing to assist in my treason and, among them, Colonel Burbank; and thus I was able to carry out my plan of deception. I never, however, trusted them with the knowledge that Jack was carrying messages without a rider. The colonel’s messages to me were seemingly disloyal, but by previous arrangement of a code, they bore a different meaning to me; and the real information received by the enemy, by his communications, were only those agreed upon by high military Allied officers.

“Of late, since all German plans founded on the information I have given them have miscarried, they are suspicious that I have betrayed them. I have been constantly watched--sometimes by men who are in our secret service--but I have been able to elude them by several devices--one of them by exchange of identity with my brother. They have not, with all their acuteness, suspected the horse or dog.

“When you were captured, your answer to the first official who questioned you about me did much to give them greater confidence in me. When I was called to assist in questioning you, it was a part of their plan to make me commit myself; our faces were closely watched. Your angry manner at seeing me convinced them that you, whom they knew to be my former friend, believed me to be a traitor to your country. My act in dropping the book in your pocket as I passed you, with all their keenness, was not observed.

“Now, however, doubt and more than suspicion, yea, almost certainty, that I have played them false is closing around me; their hounds of the secret service are on my track. If I feared them or death, I could not keep my nerve.

“I have learned that my brother is under arrest and in prison, and possibly by this time has met his fate; for these men do not hesitate to kill even on suspicion. Now that all their cherished plans for universal dominion have been foiled, they are suspicious of every one--even of each other--and this alone may lead to their final ruin.

“I feared, when I connived at your escape, that they might capture you; I therefore, as a precaution, put the misleading letter to you in the saddle, with that to Colonel Burbank. For though it was seeming plain treason to the American flag, yet to him I knew it would have another meaning. The letter would explain my conduct, and throw them off their guard from looking further.

“I knew how much you must have suffered from doubts of my loyalty. It cuts me like a knife when I think of it. I had written ‘_rip the saddle_’ thinking you must understand; I then dared to write no more.

“The information I have just sent to Colonel Burbank of the German plans are of but little value, because I am watched so closely, and my brother can not relieve me, to give me time. I think you will understand.

“With hopes that this may safely reach you, and that you will make clear to one I may never see again on earth, my loyalty to the flag, I am your faithful friend,

“JONATHAN NICKERSON.”