Part 7

"And this is Bill," said Porky without the least hesitation. "Bill. Just _Bill_ so you can yell at him good and easy."

They went on planning while behind them, over the soft, uneven ground the staff approached unheard and stood watching the little group.

Presently, still unheard and unnoticed by the boys, they turned away.

"And there are those," said General Pershing solemnly, "who do not believe that a special Providence watches over children! The boys _shall_ take those two orphans home to that good mother of theirs, if it takes an Act of Congress. You say," he continued, talking to the French officer in his own musical tongue, "you say that poor woman said that all her people were gone?"

"All dead, all lost in this war," answered the Frenchman.

"Well, if this was only in a movie show," said the great General, "we would presently see a car headed for the rear, coming around that bend ahead, and we would be able to--well, I declare," he exclaimed, as one of the officers laughed and pointed. "That's positively _too_ much!" as the group laughed with him.

A large car _was_ coming along around the bend, it _was_ headed for the rear, and in the tonneau sat a couple of nurses in their snug caps and dark capes!

The General himself halted it, and in a few words explained the situation. A couple of the officers, accompanied by the nurses, went over to the boys and at once the children, still sleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion, were transferred to arms more accustomed to holding them, and carried back to the car. Almost before they realized it, the car was off and Porky turned to the General, saluting.

"Out with it, young man," said the kindly General, smiling down into the eager and troubled face.

"We will get 'em back, won't we, sir?" he asked. "They can't work some game on us, so we will lose 'em?"

"We lost a pup that way once," said Beany dolefully, also coming to salute.

"Well, you won't lose your orphans," the General promised. "I wish I could see your mother's face when your little party appears."

"Why, we will write you what she says if you will let us, sir," Porky volunteered.

"She will be crazy over Bill and Peggy," added Beany, looking fondly after the car vanishing with their new possessions.

"Beel ant Pekky!" groaned the Frenchman.

"Wee, Mussoo, we have named them already," said Porky proudly. "We know they have some other names, kind of names, they were registered under, but that kid has to have _something_ easy to yell at him when he makes a home run, and Beany picked on Peggy right off."

"That about settles it," laughed the General. "We must be off if we reach our first sector by nightfall."

*CHAPTER XI*

*WHISPERS IN THE NIGHT*

It was nine o'clock when they reached the first post of observation in their journey, an outpost on the top of a densely wooded hill where they were to remain as long as the General wished to stay. It was a splendid post of observation. A vast battle-torn valley stretched below them for miles and miles. From their vantage point they could see it brilliantly lighted at short intervals by the flares of the enemy. The flares lit the trenches--black, ragged gashes running along the earth--and beyond, where the awful desolation of No-Man's-Land stretched, peopled only with its dead. Seen with field glasses, the plain drew near and they could see the torn surface and the tumbled groups here and there. A great battle had been fought and both sides were resting. Rest was absolutely necessary. The Allies had advanced three miles, pushing back a foe that stubbornly contested every step of the way. The Germans had brought vast numbers of reserves into action but even then the whirlwind tactics and savage rushes of their oversea foe had driven them back rod by rod.

Porky and Beany looked on and trembled with excitement. There ahead, hidden in the darkness, were the Huns. There were the barbarians who had shown a civilized world how men can slip back into worse than savagery. Wasted lands, ruined homes, orphaned and mutilated little children, butchered old people. All the unspeakable horrors of war trooped through the boys' minds, a hideous train of ghosts, as they looked across the valley. Ahead lay the heartless and ruthless killers, wolves that had come to worry and tear the sheep, but behind in the darkness, the boys knew with a thrill, every possible mode of transportation was swiftly bringing up the reserve American troops, thousands and thousands of them; men in their prime and beardless boys grim, determined, yet light-hearted, ready to fight as only Americans can fight. Men from the farms, farms in the east where fifty well-tilled acres was a fine homestead; farmers from that great and spacious west where a man called miles of land his own. Professional men, clerks, divinity students, adventurers, all welded by this great need into a common likeness. Eager for life, yet fearlessly ready to die if need be, a mighty army was on its way, was drawing nearer and nearer to the tired troops below. Overhead an adventurous plane or two hummed in the darkness.

"And we can't help!" said Porky mournfully. "Not a thing we can do, not a thing!"

"Oh, well, we are doing all we can," said Beany. "I don't just see what _more_ we can do. We can't help our age."

"No, but if we are not told just _where_ to stay, and _where_ to go, I mean to take a little stroll around to-night," said Porky.

The boys went over to the General, who stood looking across the valley and saluted. He looked, and gravely returned the salute.

"Good-night, boys," he said.

"Good-night, sir," said the boys, and then as an afterthought, "May we walk around a bit, sir?"

The General was busy studying the vast field below him as the flashes of light revealed it.

"Yes, if you don't get lost," he said absently, "and be on hand at eight to-morrow morning. I may be ready to go on then."

"Yes, sir," said both boys cheerfully. What luck! The General certainly didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"The whole night to ourselves, and no bounds, and only we mustn't get lost!" chuckled Porky.

"Peach pie!" murmured Beany. "Let's be off! Where will we go first?"

"Down there," said Porky, waving a hand widely over the valley.

"That's where I thought. But we can't get into any scrape on account of the General. You know he wasn't thinking about us at all when he spoke, and, besides, there would be an awful fuss if we got into any trouble. It would be good-by to our little trip. We would be sent back quicker than they sent Bill and Peggy."

"Who wants to get into any scrape?" said Porky. "All I want to do is to see--to see--well, to see just what I _can_ do."

"Well, come on," said Beany mournfully. "I bet we are in for some fun, because when we look for things we generally find 'em."

"What hurts me," said Porky, "is not carrying weapons of any sort. It's a good safe rule for the Boy Scouts, but I'd be glad of some little thing like a sling shot or a putty blower."

"I don't need anything," said Beany, "I've got the neatest thing you ever _did_ see." Quite suddenly he drew something from his hip pocket and shoved it under his brother's nose. Porky side-stepped.

"Ha!" said Beany. "It works!" He showed Porky his weapon. It was a monkey wrench from the auto tool chest. In his hand it looked like a revolver.

"Pretty neat," said Porky. "Is there another one in the box?"

"Yes, I saw another," said Beany. "I don't see any harm in this. Any one might carry a monkey wrench," and replaced it carefully in his pocket.

"Sure thing," said Porky, making for the car, followed by his brother. "Didn't the Reverend Hannibal Butts get up to preach one Sunday, and dig for a clean handky to wipe his face with and come up with a bunch of waste and use it before he saw what he was doing?"

"I remember that," said Beany. "I thought I'd die! And so did everybody else. It 'most broke up the meeting."

"Well, when you flashed that monkey wrench I thought it was a revolver sure enough. But it was only an innocent little wrench, and here is the mate to it!" He pocketed the tool, and slipping cautiously out of sight of the group of officers, they went scrambling noiselessly down the steep trail into the valley. Reaching the foot of the hill, they struck cautiously out toward the entanglements, dropping on their faces whenever a flare went up. Presently Beany, a little in the rear, pulled his brother's leg. Porky stopped, and waited for Beany to wriggle up. He muttered, "What?" but did not turn his face. He knew too well that a face turned upwards in the darkness can be seen by an observant watcher overhead in some prowling plane.

"Men whispering over toward the right," said Beany of the marvelous ears.

"No business for any one to be there," said Porky, listening intently. "We are well on our side yet."

"It's over there on that little hillock," said Beany positively, "and I think they are whispering in German."

"Why, they _can't_ be, Bean," said Porky. "We are away inside our lines, and we wouldn't have men out there and, besides, they wouldn't be whispering German or anything else. When our men are supposed to keep still, they _keep still_!"

"I can't help it," said Beany. "They are whispering in German."

"All right," said Porky, reluctantly turning toward the spot indicated by Beany. "We'll go over and see what it is, and if there are any Germans holed up around here, we'll sick on a few troops."

They did not stand up again, but slowly and with the greatest caution approached a small hillock that stood slightly away from the steeper hills. It was not wooded enough to afford any shelter, nor was it high enough to be a good spot for a gun. For that or for some other reason, the enemy had failed to shell it.

On the side toward the Allies a pile of high boulders was tumbled. The rest was grass grown. Beany, whispering softly in his brother's ear, insisted that the voices came from this place.

"Then they are underground," whispered Porky in his turn.

Slowly, ever so slowly they crept up to the little hill and lay in the darkness, listening. Certainly through the grass and stones of the mound came the muffled sound of cautious voices. If they had been speaking English, it is probable that even Beany's wizard ears would not have caught the sound. But the harsh guttural German, even when whispered, seemed to carry far.

"I don't see how you heard 'em," breathed Porky. "It's hard enough to believe now. What do you suppose it all means!"

"Search me!" Beany breathed in return.

"What they doing over on our side?" wondered Porky.

"It's a good place all right," said Beany against his brother's ear as they lay close to the grass.

They were silent for a while, when the unbelievable happened. It was so amazing, so stunning, that both boys at first could not believe that they heard aright. They heard a sound like a windlass or crank turning, a few clods tumbled down on them, and a voice once more whispered hoarsely three words:

"Gee, it's hot!"

"_Gee, it's hot!_" said the German voice and the simple words seemed to the astounded boys to ring across the valley! On the contrary, they were spoken in a low whisper.

Another voice replied. "He won't like it if you speak English, you know."

"I can't help it," said the first speaker. "We are two to one anyhow, and I am tired of talking that lingo. I'm a good German all right, but I wasn't brought up to _speak_ German and it comes hard. And this is the hottest place I ever did get in. I don't like it. Do you know what will happen about to-morrow? I'll tell you. We will find ourselves miles behind the Allies' lines, and then what do you propose to do, Peter?"

"Bosh!" said the man called Peter. "You think because a handful of Americans are here that the tide has turned. Be careful what you think. I tell you _no_. What can a few hundred of these fellows do against the perfect, trained millions of the Fatherland?"

"You don't know them," said Fritz.

"Yes, I do," said the man Peter. "Now let me tell you. For years I was in England; sent there to study those foolish bull-headed people and to create all the unrest I could. It was _so_ easy. I saw these Americans there, crazy, loud-mouthed, boasting, always boasting. They talked fight, they told wild tales about the bad men of their west, always boasting. So I tried them. I am a big man, Fritz, and strong; I was not afraid of a little fight, me, myself. I tried them. I slurred their government, sneered at their president, laughed at their institutions. What think you? They laughed. They _laughed_! Quite as if I said the most kindly things. I said, 'What I say is true, is it not?' and they said, 'Perhaps, but it is so funny!' That is what they said, '_so funny_!' They should have slain me where I stood."

"They don't care what you say or what the rest of the world says," whispered Fritz. "They are too big. Their country is too big. When they fight.... Wait until you have seen them fight! They fight with grunts and gasps and bared teeth. They do not need trenches, they will go over the top with a shout. You will see, friend Peter. They are back there in the darkness now. I feel them!"

"A few of them, only a few," said Peter. "This little castle of sod and stone is getting on your nerves, my friend. Look you! Do you think the Highest would deceive us? Never, never! There is nothing to this talk of the Americans coming over here. To be sure, they have declared war, but what of it? They are no good. They have no army. All their boasted possessions, all their harbors, all their wealth, yet they have no army. No army! That shows how inefficient they are. Never fear, my Fritz. Not a hundred thousand will reach this soil. I have it from our commanding officer himself."

"Then here's hoping for a quick release from this hole," said Fritz bitterly.

"To-morrow," said Peter; "to-morrow our hosts will sweep across this valley, and we will be with our own again."

"Oh, I hope for some release. It's the hardest duty I have ever been given."

"But think how we have been able to guide our guns, talking as we can to the airplanes through the clever arrangement of our three little trees on top of our delightful little hill." He laughed. "How clever it all is! And no one will ever suspect!" He paused again to chuckle, and Porky quite suddenly shoved a sharp elbow into Beany's ribs.

"Well, I'm sick of it," said Fritz still in his low, hoarse whisper, and seemed to move away from the side of the hill where he had been standing.

The boys with the greatest caution wriggled away.

"Now what do you think of _that_?" said Porky when they were in a position where they could talk in safety. "_What do you think of that?_"

"Anyhow," said Beany, "they aren't spies. I'm sort of fed up on spies. I can stand for most anything else."

"No, they are not spies. I can't make out just what their little game is. It's important, though; you can see that. And we have got to stop it somehow."

"That ought to be easy enough. Just go back and get the bunch and a few soldiers, and take 'em."

"What's the time, anyhow?" asked Porky. He answered his own question by fishing his wrist watch out of his pocket. He had put it there for fear the luminous dial might be seen.

"Only eleven," he said. "Plenty of time." He sat staring into the darkness. There were very few flares now, although the night was usually kept bright with them.

"Wonder why that is," Porky said.

"Something to do with our little mud house, don't you think so?" said Beany.

"Yes, I do," answered his brother, "I wish I could make it out. Give us time, give us time!"

"Well, come on! I want to get some one on. the job," said Beany. "I feel fidgety."

"Sit still," said Porky. "I want to think."

"What you got in your head now?" said Beany. His voice sounded anxious.

"We are going to take those men prisoners with our own little wrenches and just by our two selves."

"Three of them?" gasped Beany.

"Three of them!" said Porky. "Come on!"

*CHAPTER XII*

*TAKING THREE PRISONERS*

"Come nothing!" said Beany slangily. "You stay right here until we can talk this thing over, and make some sort of a plan. I don't propose to go into something we can't get out of."

"Well," said Porky, "the only plan I have is so crazy that I'm sort of afraid to tell you about it. But it would certainly be sort of nifty to take those men ourselves instead of running back to the bunch for help. It would kind of put a little gilt on things and would be something to tell Bill and Peggy about when they grow up a little."

Beany was impressed. "I hadn't thought of that," he said. "Looks like we haven't much to tell them about, nothing but the submarine and the secret passage and that sort of thing."

"And the spies back home," added Porky. "No, we ought to wind up with something else. Beside, if I don't get hold of a Hun or two after what we saw and heard back at the Duval farm, I don't think I'll ever live."

"Well, I'm with you," agreed Beany. "Now let's plan. We sure have got to get a prisoner or two our own selves. What's next?"

For twenty minutes the boys, heads close together, whispered rapidly. Then they rose and went noiselessly toward the false hillock.

The last hundred yards they crept, lying flat and motionless whenever a flare lit the sky. They were not frequent, however, and the boys made good progress. When they reached the mound, Porky, who was the best climber, crept to the top. He used the most infinite caution, and there was not a sound to betray his slow, sure progress. Gaining the top, he found what he had expected to find. A sodded opening, like a double trap door, operated from the inside, was slightly opened for air. So cleverly was it arranged with small bushes and grass growing on the trap doors, that it would have been impossible to detect it. Porky felt cautiously about the edges. Then he listened. From below came an unmistakable sound--the noise of a couple of men snoring. The sound was so muffled by the thick steel walls, the earth and stones and sod outside them, that they were able to sleep without fear of detection. Porky shook his head admiringly. He was forced to acknowledge that the ingenuity of the foe seemed to know no bounds. Again he tried the trap doors. They were balanced to a hair and moved upward at his touch. He felt in his pocket, arranged something in either hand, then swung the doors both upward.

It would be untrue to say that a flash of doubt did not pass over the reckless boy at that instant. He thought of the General and of the way in which that great man trusted them to do their part in keeping out of trouble. He had surmised that there were three men below. There was room for a dozen. He had taken it for granted that he and Beany could pull off a stunt that instead might end in their immediate death or worse. But there he was, perched on the top, the heavy trap doors swinging wide, and below in the dense darkness the sound of men snoring. Porky took time to listen. There were snores from two, that was clear, and still another man talked and muttered fretfully in his sleep. Porky could hear no others.

He took a long breath, leaned over the opening, and turned a flashlight below.

As though electrified; three big men sat up and blinked in the glare of the flashlight.

Two of the men cried, "Kamarad!" and instantly held up their hands. The third said calmly, "Thank the Lord! I surrender!" and stood up.

"Not so fast!" said Porky in his deepest tones. He fiddled with the button on his flashlight. The light wavered. Porky kept his face to the men and called back over his shoulder:

"Sergeant, something's wrong with my flash. Send up another!"

"Yes, sir!" answered Beany as gruffly as possible from below. He waited a moment, then scrambling up passed his flash to his brother. Porky put his in his pocket, and bent the light on the men below. An ax stood in one corner with a coil of rope. In another corner was a rough table loaded with strange instruments that Porky did not understand.

"Turn out your pockets!" he commanded, and three revolvers were tossed up, one after the other.

"See that rope?" demanded Porky, pointing his flash directly at the man who had spoken English. "You tell those other fellows to tie you up quick, and tell them to make a good job of it!"

"I surrender," said the man Fritz. "Please don't tie me up, sir!"

"You hear!" said Porky grimly. He called back over his shoulder. "Forward ten paces, Sergeant!"

"Yes, sir," said Beany, and Porky almost giggled as he heard his brother scuffling violently around trying to sound like a squad. But he dared not look away from the men below, who were hastily tying up the man called Fritz. They did a good job, eager to make good with the unseen and most unexpected captors. If the officer above with the boyish voice wanted Fritz tied up, tied up he would be so he could not move. When they finished, the bulky form looked like a mummy.

"Is that a door in the side?" Porky demanded of Fritz.

"Yes, sir," said Fritz.

Porky waited a little. The worst was coming now.

"Tell those men to open that door, and step outside, and if they value their lives, to keep their hands up."

Fritz spoke rapidly in German. What he said was, "These are Americans, you fools! The officer says to step outside, and keep your hands up. You had better do it, if you want to live. They would rather shoot than eat. I know them! Obey, no matter what they tell you."

When he had finished, one of the men, lowering one hand and keeping the other well up in the air, pressed a long lever and a narrow door opened, dislodging a little shower of stones and earth as it moved outward.

"Vorwarts zwei!" cried Porky, making a wild stab at German.

It was understood however. Fear makes men quick, and the two walked briskly out and stood side by side. One of them had stepped through a loop of the rope, and it came trailing after him.

"Tie those men's hands and tie them together. Sergeant," said Porky. He watched, cold with a fright he would never have felt for himself, while Beany, keeping as much out of the light as possible, tied the men, and sawed off the end of the rope.

"Close the door!" demanded Porky.

Beany did so.

"Don't leave me here, sir," cried the man below suddenly. "If the Germans find that we have allowed this spot to be discovered, they will shoot me. If the enemy comes I shall be shot. I will come quietly. I am glad to surrender."

"That's all right," growled Porky. "You are safe for a while. I am leaving a guard here. We want a few English-speaking prisoners, so you are quite safe for a while."

"One of those men outside speaks English also," cried Fritz.

"All right," said Porky. "I advise you to keep still. Sergeant, detail a guard for this place with orders to shoot him at the first outcry."

"Yes, sir," said Beany. He retreated under cover of the darkness, thoughtfully going around the corner of the mound as a flare brightened the sky, and he remembered, in the nick of time, that it wouldn't do to let the two men, carefully bound as they were, see him roaring directions at an imaginary squad. He returned in a minute and saluted, although his form was only a darker shadow in the darkness of the night.

Above, Porky closed the trap doors, and as he did so, cut the ropes by which they were opened and closed. Not even with his teeth could the trussed up prisoner below open them.

Beany had already shut the door in the side and wedged it with a broken piece of gun-carriage.

"Come with me, Sergeant," said Porky, for the benefit of the English-speaking prisoner. "Vorwarts!"