CHAPTER XXX.

"YOU ARE A SPY!"

In another moment a smaller body of men swept up to the farmhouse, drawing rein at the sight of the stalled car. By their uniforms and the fluttering ensign held up by a big trooper, the boys guessed them to be officers. They paused for a moment and then, after a few words, turned and came galloping up the poplar-lined approach.

The boys exchanged blank looks.

"Keep cool," urged Tom, "there isn't anything they can do to hurt us."

"I don't know, I've heard some queer tales of the Germans," declared Jack, rather apprehensively, "for one thing they've no great love for Americans."

"But they wouldn't dare to injure us," declared Bill.

The horsemen, of whom there were six, and they saw that two were slightly wounded, came galloping up and drew rein. The leader of the party was a fierce, hawk-nosed old man with an immense drooping mustache. The others were young officers, rather foppish-looking. Two of them wore monocles.

But it was the figure of the man who brought up the rear of the party that excited Jack's attention to the exclusion of the others.

"Radwig!" he gasped to Bill as he recognized the figure of the former Herr Professor of the German War college, in spite of his wearing a uniform.

"Wow! There'll be trouble sure now," muttered Bill. "See, he's looking at us."

"Yes, he recognizes us and he doesn't look over amiable."

Radwig spurred his horse to the side of the hawk-nosed old colonel and spoke rapidly. The old man bent keen eyes on the party of boys.

"Herr Radwig informs me that two of your party are spies," he said in a chilling voice; "is that the truth?"

"Of course not," declared Jack, paling a trifle. "We are all Americans."

"Unfortunately, a great many persons, including English spies, are protecting themselves under that banner nowadays," was the rejoinder. "I'll trouble you to show your papers."

"Why, Mr. Radwig knows me and my friend here," burst out Jack.

"I know nothing but what I suspect," snarled Radwig, his eyes gleaming viciously. "Colonel, will you allow me to search these boys?"

The other nodded assent.

"I would rather be searched by somebody else," protested Jack, guessing what sort of treatment they would get from the man who hated him.

"Herr Radwig will search you," was the rejoinder, and then, in German, he gave orders to a non-commissioned officer,--a sergeant,--to get a meal ready within the house. Radwig compelled the indignant boys to turn out everything in their pockets and Pottle's camera was ordered destroyed forthwith.

Radwig's search was rapid and thorough. When it was concluded, he turned to the colonel.

"There is nothing incriminating on any of them, but on this one here," he declared.

He pointed at Jack as he spoke.

"And he----?"

"Has two passes on the Belgian railroads in his pocket."

This was true, for Jack had not given up both passes the last time they had to show them.

"That seems to prove that he has some position of trust with the Belgian government," declared Radwig, "and as such is properly a prisoner of war."

Jack looked his dismay; but the colonel gave a sharp order. Two soldiers laid hold of the boy. He started to shake them off indignantly while his friends looked on aghast.

"I can explain all this," he cried; "this man Radwig had trouble with me. He's trying to get even. He----"

"Take him away," came the cold order in unmoved tones. "You are responsible for him," added the colonel to Jack's two captors. "See that he is carefully guarded till the court martial."

"The court martial!" cried Jack. "Why, I--I'm an American citizen and----"

"There is no more to be said," and Jack, with an armed guard pressing a revolver to either side, was marched off without a chance to say more. As he went on, he could hear his friends protesting indignantly and then, they too, were taken in charge by the soldiers and escorted to the automobile. Then came a sharp order to them to drive back to Louvain on pain of death. There was nothing for them to do but to obey. The iron discipline of the German officers allowed no argument. And so, leaving Jack to his fate, they were compelled to drive off with heavy hearts.

"Don't worry, we'll get the American consul and get him out all right," said Tom, as cheerfully as he could.

But Bill, with the thought of a court martial in his mind, sat in a miserable state all the way back to the town which they reached only after making a long detour, necessitated by the blown-up bridge.

His chum in the hands of the Germans, and subject to court martial, Bill had good cause to feel worried and oppressed as to the outcome when he realized the influence that Radwig, Jack's enemy, appeared to possess. To what terrible lengths might not his desire for vengeance lead him?