CHAPTER XIII

THE HOUSE BY THE ROADSIDE

When Bud Morgan glanced back over his shoulder just as they struck the road and were well launched on their night tramp, he could not help thinking what a wonderful sight it was that greeted his admiring eyes. Bud had always been a great hand for drinking in scenes that were uncommon, and had been known to temporarily forget that he was engaged in a running match, when from the top of a rise a vista of unusual beauty burst upon his vision.

The battered old moon was above the horizon now, and lay low in the east. A myriad of camp fires flickered through the broad valley where the State guardsmen were encamped, waiting to be sworn into the service of Uncle Sam, and entrain for the distant border. All sorts of murmurous sounds came floating to the ear, and formed a medley never to be forgotten.

Bud, finding that the others were fast leaving him in the lurch, hastened to catch up with his chums; but he knew he would carry that wonderful picture in memory as long as he lived. The very mention of a mobilization camp would make him think of the soft dab of yellow in the sky marking the rising moon, the glittering patches scattered about that looked like giant fireflies; and the murmuring sound of many voices, braying of mules, and kindred camp notes.

But “taps” had sounded, and all this would presently die away, for strict military regulations governed the uniformed community.

Bud found a place alongside Blake, while Hugh strode on with Captain Barclay and the aviator guide, Johnston. It was perfectly natural that the two boys should desire to communicate while on the way. Blake in particular wanted to find certain things, and as he could bend his head close to that of his comrade, before they had been three minutes on the road in company, he was whispering:

“Bud, would you mind if I asked you something?”

“Why, of course not, Blake,” replied the other in a soft tone, “only be careful how you speak. Remember that we’re under the captain’s orders now, and he told us not to say anything louder than a whisper. So fire away.”

No doubt Bud understood how very anxious the other must be, for Blake had far more at stake in the successful outcome of their adventure than either of his companions, hence the willingness of Bud to accommodate him; for Blake was a pretty decent sort of fellow, as boys go, and well liked by the Oakvale Troop.

“Why, I only wanted to ask if you could give any kind of guess what the programme is going to be after we get to that lonely house by the road?” Blake asked, showing that, after all, it was more a desire to receive some comforting assurance than a hope for knowledge that actuated him.

“Oh! shucks! how c’n I tell that, Blake?” protested the other. “Just as like as not we’ll first of all throw a loop around the old shanty, so nobody c’n skip out, and then start in to comb it from attic to cellar. All I’m hoping is that they don’t think to carry Felix further away in that little flivver car, you know.”

“Huh! say, Bud, d’ye know that’s just what’s been bothering me right along,” admitted Blake. “Everything hinges on our finding that bunch hiding at the house alongside the road. I wish we were there, so we’d know the worst.”

“Brace up, Blake,” said Bud, encouragingly. “I’ve got a hunch that it’s all going to come off gilt-edged. Show your colors, old fellow, and don’t forget that a scout can keep his fears under control.”

After that Blake fell quiet. Perhaps he realized that it was foolish to give way to these doubts, just as Bud meant to imply. Silently the little detachment advanced along the road, the four armed soldiers bringing up the rear. Once they were challenged, for videttes had been posted even outside the limits of the big military camp, since strict army rules prevailed, and in a hostile country this would be the practice. The captain, however, gave the password in the ear of the man who suddenly challenged them, and they were permitted to move along.

After this had kept up for possibly fifteen minutes, the boys knew they must be close upon the object of their search. Johnston had, in the beginning, said it was less than two miles away, and hence, at any moment now, they might expect to hear a low command to halt, after which the captain would give directions governing their future movements.

Eagerly, Blake was straining his eyes in hopes of discovering some sort of house ahead. More than once he thought he had hit upon it, only to find, upon drawing near, that a clump of trees formed the dark shadow patch upon which his gaze had settled.

But all things must have an end, and in due time the guide of the expedition signified that they were now within stone’s throw of their destination. The captain beckoned them to gather around him, after which in whispers he designated every one’s part in the venture.

The four privates were to circle the house, guarding every exit, whether this be a door or window. Their orders were to hail first, and then, if the fleeing party refused to halt, to shoot, though trying to “pepper” the man’s legs rather than mortally injure him.

As for the three scouts, they were to accompany the captain and Johnston, whose intention it was to enter the building and arrest the inmates.

When Blake heard this he fairly quivered with an excess of emotion and zeal. He was only too delighted at such a chance to be “in at the death,” as he mentally termed it. How good it was of their friend the captain to allow them this privilege. Most army officers would have considered boys a nuisance, and, doubtless, ordered them to stay back until things had shaped themselves, and the danger was past; but then Captain Barclay lived in Oakvale, and knew just how bravely the scouts had carried themselves on numberless occasions.

All of them could see the house, for they were creeping forward again. It happened to be upon the side of the road where the low-lying moon’s rays did not fall, so that the shadows were fairly dense; but sharp eyes could make it out.

Blake was glad to notice that all seemed as still as death around the place. So far as he could see, there was no sign of a light visible. If the inmates were awake and burning a lamp, they must have first carefully drawn the shades, and otherwise darkened the windows, for try as Blake might, he failed to detect even a narrow shaft of illumination.

A near-panic gripped the boy’s rapidly beating heart. He feared that those they sought might not be at the roadhouse—that when the man in the flivver had arrived with Felix in his car they may have continued the flight, and by this time were many miles away.

However, Blake’s fright was of short duration. He remembered what Bud had said about mastering himself, and thus managed to get a firm grip on his weak heart.

Great care was taken while advancing to keep well in the shadow. Although everything seemed so still about the place, there was no telling whether the suspected inmates of the house were on guard or not. For all they knew, hostile eyes might be peering out from some crack, and ordinary caution required that they take just as much pains as though they knew this for a certainty.

By motions rather than even the lowest of words the captain stationed his four men. He had evidently planned his every move, and there was to be no hitch that would imperil the success of the enterprise.

When the armed guards had been placed, the next thing was to approach the door and knock. Blake again had a chilly feeling attack as he realized that the crisis was now at hand, when success or failure would follow. If repeated knocking went without any response, the chances were the house had been abandoned, and that they would have had all their trouble for their pains. Of course, though, Blake told himself, they would give the place a thorough overhauling, so as to make sure those they sought were not hiding.

Well, there was one comfort that appealed to him. This lay in the letter which Felix had written, and now in the possession of Hugh Hardin. If the worst came they could open that, and always have a chance that it would be what they wanted, an apology meant for Uncle Reuben’s eye.

The captain had stepped boldly up to the door. Blake saw him place his ear close to the panels, after trying the knob and finding that a key had been turned in the lock, for the door refused to open. If Captain Barclay detected the least sign of human occupancy, he gave no indication of it; but he did knock loudly with his knuckles.

Everybody listened intently. The four uniformed guards had been cautioned to keep out of sight, and the shadows engulfed them. Had any one peered from a window he would have been able to see nothing, unless in some manner he managed to glimpse that little group on the stone step before the door.

But some person was certainly moving inside, for even Blake heard sounds indicating such a thing. The officer waited a minute, and then again thumped lustily on the panel. A glimmer of light was seen, telling them that some one approached; then came the sound of a key turned in the lock, after which the door swung partly open, revealing a man standing there, holding a lighted lamp.