THE BOY SCOUTS On War Trails In Belgium

OR

Caught Between Hostile Armies

By HERBERT CARTER

AUTHOR OF “The Boy Scouts First Campfire,” “The Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge,” “The Boy Scouts on the Trail,” “The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods,” “The Boy Scouts Through the Big Timber,” “The Boy Scouts in the Rockies,” “The Boy Scouts Along the Susquehanna.” Etc.,

Copyright, 1916 By A. L. Burt Company

CHAPTER I. THE NEWS THAT REACHED THE RHINE.

“It strikes me Allan’s a pretty long time coming with those letters, Thad.”

“Oh! perhaps he’s struck some exciting news worth picking up; you know he’s a correspondent for a newspaper at home in the good old United States, and must always be on the lookout for happenings. Have a little more patience, Bumpus.”

“But you see I didn’t sleep ten winks last night, Thad. After our lovely quiet trip down the Rhine by boat from Mainz this place seemed just as noisy as any boiler factory.”

“No wonder, Bumpus, with trains pouring in from the east and north, every one loaded down with German first-line troops, field artillery, cavalry horses, aeroplane supplies, and all sorts of war toggery.”

“Yes, but, Giraffe, I took notice that you slept like a top through it all, just as if we were camping again in the Maine woods, or down in that Louisiana swamp where we had such a roaring good time.”

The boy who answered to the peculiar nick-name of “Giraffe” laughed when the stout, auburn-haired member of the trio, known as Bumpus Hawtree, made this assertion.

“Oh! I’ve got it down to a fine point, Bumpus,” he remarked with a touch of boyish pride in his voice; “I’ve found out how to make mind win over matter. When I lay me down to sleep I just tell myself to forget all troubles; and after counting a hundred sheep jumping over a fence I lose myself the finest way you ever saw. Try it yourself, Bumpus, and see how it works.”

“As a rule I don’t have any trouble getting my forty winks, and you know that, Giraffe,” the fat boy continued, sadly; “but just now I’m terribly worried about my mother back there in Antwerp. Whatever would she do if this war does break out, so helpless to get away by herself, because of that paralysis she’s trying to have cured by a specialist?”

“We’ve given you our promise, Bumpus,” said the one called Thad, “that we’d stick by you through thick and thin, and do everything in our power to get to Antwerp. So cherk up and try to feel that it’s all going to come out right in the end.”

“Thad, a scout never had a better chum than you’ve always been to me,” Bumpus acknowledged, with a trace of tears in his eyes, as he laid his hand on the other’s khaki sleeve; “and I’m going to do my level best to see the silver lining of the cloud. But it’s tough being hemmed in by a whole army like we are, and given to understand that it’s impossible to enter Belgium again until the skies clear.”

These three boys who wore the well-known uniform of scouts were seated in a boat that had apparently been used as a means for descending the historic Rhine.

Thad Brewster was the leader of the patrol to which the others belonged. It was known as the Silver Fox, and formed a part of Cranford Troop. He had worked his way up until his field of experience was so broad that it entitled him to take the place of the regular scout master of the troop when the latter could not accompany the boys on their outings.

Giraffe was really known to his teachers in school as Conrad Stedman. His ancestors had come from this same Rhine country long ago, and as the boy had made a specialty of German in school he was able to jabber fairly well during their trip down the beautiful river. Giraffe came by his nick-name honestly. He had been given an abnormally long neck by a bountiful Nature, and on occasion it seemed as if the boy could even stretch this out to an astonishing extent, just as the giraffe does. He never complained because every one of his mates called him by such a name, for if it hadn’t been that he must surely have been dubbed “Rubber-neck,” which would have been infinitely worse.

Bumpus Hawtree also had another more dignified name, that of Cornelius Jasper, but it was utterly unknown among his comrades. Whether on the baseball field, in camp, on the trail, in a boat, or any other place where boys might gather it was always plain Bumpus. No one knew exactly why that peculiar name had been given to the fat boy, except that being clumsy he was always stumbling into trouble, and given to bumping against his chums.

These boys, with some others connected with the Cranford Troop of scouts, had seen considerable in the way of adventure since the first day they organized their Silver Fox Patrol. Wonderful opportunities had come to them whereby they were allowed to visit the Blue Ridge country down in North Carolina; go to the Maine woods on an outing; cross the continent to the great Rockies and enjoy a hunt for big game in the wilderness; and even take a trip down into the Sunny South, where amidst the swamps of Louisiana they had encountered numerous remarkable adventures.

No matter what difficulties beset them, Thad Brewster and his chums had always met emergencies as became true-hearted scouts, and as a rule managed to emerge from the encounter in triumph. Earlier in the same summer that we see them so far away from their home town of Cranford they had been concerned in a wonderful hunt for a valuable missing paper that took them along the banks of the Susquehanna River, and brought them in contact with a number of thrilling happenings, all of which have been fully described in the volume preceding this.

Bumpus Hawtree’s father was the president of the bank, and known to be a wealthy man. The boy’s mother had suffered from a paralytic stroke, and urged to go abroad to be treated by an eminent specialist, this trip had suddenly been thrust upon the chums.

Circumstances having arisen whereby Mr. Hawtree could not leave his business, he had entrusted the care of the invalid to Bumpus, and even agreed to stand for half of the expense of having his three comrades accompany him.

Thad and Allan Hollister had long hoped to some day take a boat trip down the Rhine, and when they learned that Bumpus was going this fever had attacked them more furiously than ever. Then came Giraffe with the suggestion that he join with them, making a party of four.

It proved to be an irresistible temptation. If Mrs. Hawtree had to remain for a month or so at the sanitarium of the specialist in Antwerp what was to hinder the four chums from carrying out their cherished scheme?

At that time there seemed to be no cloud on the sky of European politics. Servia had indeed put a match under the magazine when some scoundrel assassinated the heir to the Austrian throne, and the Dual Monarchy was demanding redress; but nearly every one supposed it would end in Servia backing completely down, and doing whatever her big neighbor insisted upon.

So the trip had been made, the invalid left comfortably in the Belgian city on the Scheldt, after which the quartette of wide-awake American boys hurried across to the German city of Mainz, where they managed to hire a boat that would answer their purposes.

This was fixed up the best way possible for cruising, and they had taken their own good time drifting down the beautiful Rhine. At night when away from any city or town the boys would proceed to camp just as though they were over in America, and navigating the waters of the Mississippi or the Susquehanna.

It would perhaps take a book to tell of the many interesting things they saw and experienced while on this voyage along the German waterway. The task would be a most pleasant one, too; but there are too many more stirring scenes lying ahead of Thad and his friends and awaiting our immediate attention to linger here.

Bumpus had been greatly worried of late. The reports had grown more and more serious the nearer they approached Cologne, and evidences multiplied that went to tell them the great German nation was taking no chances of a sudden invasion from the French border.

They had seen trainloads of soldiers all sweeping toward the west and south. Heavy traction engines had been noticed moving slowly along country roads, and drawing enormous guns behind them. Thousands of motor trucks, each also loaded to the limit with men in helmets, had been seen scurrying along.

All these things pointed to a growing fear that some terrible calamity was impending over poor Europe, so that possibly the long talked of World’s War might be nearer than most people across the Atlantic dreamed of.

To comfort Bumpus, Thad had solemnly promised him that no matter what happened they would do everything in their power to forge ahead and reach Antwerp. When he made that brotherly promise Thad could not have foreseen one-tenth of the tremendous difficulties that would have to be surmounted before it could ever be carried into execution; but once it was given he had such a tenacious will that the leader of the Silver Fox Patrol was bound to try and keep his word.

Their other comrade, Allan Hollister, had gone into the city for any mail that might be awaiting their arrival at Cologne. Sitting there with the magnificent twin spires of the famous cathedral in plain sight, the others were impatiently awaiting his return.

It may have been ten minutes after the little talk occurred with which this chapter opens that a boy was discovered hurrying toward the boat. From the fact of his wearing a khaki suit like the ones Thad and his other two chums sported, it could be set down for granted that this must be Allan Hollister.

As he drew nearer, all of them could see that his face was grave. This gave Bumpus a new pang, for he feared he would never be able to make the journey across Belgium, and join his invalid mother, who would be waiting for him in Antwerp.

Allan silently handed each of them some mail, but after a glance at his Thad voiced the feelings of his other two allies when he said:

“You’re bringing us bad news, Allan; it’s written on your face, and there’s no use keeping it back any longer. What’s happened?”

Allan was the second in control of the patrol, a good woodsman, and a stout-hearted scout. He braced himself with an effort, and after drawing a big breath went on to tell them the thrilling news he had heard when getting the mail.

“The war is on—German armies have crossed the frontier into Belgium—King Albert has refused to let them pass through his country, and there is a terrible battle being fought at Liége, with thousands of men killed and wounded on both sides. The whole of Germany and Austria have flamed up, and it’s going to be a fight to the death with the biggest nations of Europe on the battle line!”

CHAPTER II. A BOLD UNDERTAKING.

No one said anything immediately. Bumpus had turned very white, and a pained expression crept across his round face, seldom seen there.

“My poor mother!” they heard him mutter, as he stared over into the mysterious west, in the direction where Antwerp was supposed to lie, with part of Germany and the whole of Belgium between.

Under ordinary conditions there would have been only one way out of the scrape for the four chums. This would have been to make as rapid a retreat as they could, passing further into Germany, and managing by some good fortune to get over into Holland where at Amsterdam they might secure passage to London by steamer.

Thad would have laid out their campaign along those lines only for his sacred promise to poor Bumpus, who being very set in his way might have attempted the task of getting to the Belgian city by himself, and of course making an utter failure of it, because Bumpus never did many things right.

“So, the worst has come, after all,” said Thad, presently; “and the torch has been put to the powder magazine that will blow up pretty much all Europe before the end is reached.”

“Will Great Britain fight, do you think, Thad?” asked Giraffe, in somewhat of an awed voice for one so bold as he had usually proved himself.

“That’s to be seen,” replied the other, gravely; “but we know that France and Russia will fly to arms, and I don’t see how England can keep out of it. You know she has sworn to maintain the neutrality of Belgium even by force of arms if necessary. If the German army is over the border that settles it, I’m afraid.”

“Whew! but there will be a fierce old row!” declared Giraffe; “and just to think of our being over here at such a wonderful time. Mebbe we won’t have lots to tell Step Hen, Davy Jones, Smithy, Bob White, and the rest of the fellows when we get back home again.”

“Yes, when we do!” echoed Bumpus, dolefully.

“Here, cheer up, Bumpus; don’t look like you’d lost your last friend,” the boy with the long neck told him. “Remember what Thad said about our hanging to you all the way through, don’t you? Well, it still goes. Even the whole German army can’t keep us from getting over into Belgium, and hiking for old Antwerp. We’ll pull up there sooner or later in pretty fair shape, and smuggle Ma Hawtree across the Channel to England’s shores, mark my words if we don’t.”

Thad and Allan both said something along the same lines. Perhaps they may not have felt quite so sanguine as Giraffe, but that did not prevent them from trying to bolster up the sagging courage of Bumpus.

Of course the latter began to show immediate signs of renewed hope. How could it be otherwise when he had the backing of such loyal chums?

“But what can we do when the whole country is just swarming with soldiers, all heading in the direction of the border?” Bumpus wanted to know. “We’ve got our passports, I admit, but in time of war they wouldn’t be worth the paper they’re written on. And, Thad, no common person can ride on one of the trains these days, I’m sure.”

“Yes, that’s right, Bumpus,” the other admitted, “and in making up our plans we must omit travel in the regular way.”

“The border is something like forty miles away from here, I should say,” suggested Allan, who had of course looked the thing up on the map.

“There’s the Netherlands a bit closer,” Thad explained, “if we chose to cross over the line; but we might find it hard to get into Belgium that way. One thing sure, we must be on the move to-day.”

“Do you mean we’ll hoof it, Thad?” demanded Giraffe, who, being a good walker, evidently did not see any particular difficulty about managing twenty to thirty miles a day over good summer roads.

With Bumpus it was quite another matter, and he held his breath while waiting to hear what the patrol leader had to say.

“If we have to we might make it,” Thad presently returned, as though he had considered the matter himself at some previous time. “Then who knows but what we might be lucky enough to run across some man owning a car, who would either rent it to us or give us a lift to the border.”

“But, Thad,” objected Allan, “you know what we heard about all cars? As soon as the order for mobilization went out it was flashed from the Russian border to Alsace and Lorraine, and from that minute every car worth owning in the entire German country would be the property of the Government. Why, if we owned even an American-made car right now it would be taken away from us, to be paid for by the military authorities. I’m afraid it’s going to be a case of shank’s mare with us.”

“Let it,” said Thad; “we’ve got to make a start inside of an hour or so!”

That was the prompt way in which most of the matters engineered by Thad Brewster were put through. Somehow his manner of saying it thrilled the others, for there could be seen a new grim look come into their faces. Even the woe-begone countenance of Bumpus took on fresh hope.

“Do you really mean that we’re going to start out into the west, Thad?” he asked, with glistening eyes.

“Just what we’ll do, Bumpus!” he was told with a reassuring smile on the part of the patrol leader such as always carried fresh cheer to anxious hearts.

“How about getting rid of the boat that’s carried us down the Rhine so splendidly?” questioned Giraffe.

“That’s already been arranged for,” was what the other told him; “all we have to do is to hand it over to that boat builder, and get his receipt for the same. We have paid the last thaler we owe, and there’s no reason why we can’t leave our duffle here with the same man, to be sent for later on when the war is over and railroads are taking on freight again for America.”

“It sounds good to me,” said Giraffe. “I’d hate to lose a few things I brought along to make myself comfortable with—the red blanket, for instance, that’s been with me on so many camping trips. I hope there’s a good chance of seeing our stuff again some fine day.”

“Well, talking isn’t going to help us any, so what do you say we get busy?” suggested Thad; and as the others were all agreeable they soon made quick work with packing up their belongings, so they could be left in charge of the owner of the boatyard on the outskirts of the city.

All the while they worked the boys could hear a thousand and one sounds connected with the feverish rush of military trains crossing bridges, and starting off anew toward the Belgian border at three points beyond the mobilizing centre of Aachen or, as it was once called, Aix la Chappelle, almost due west by south from Cologne.

When the hour was up they had accomplished all the preliminaries looking to the start on foot across German territory. The owner of the boatyard doubtless wondered what they meant to do, for he asked a number of curious questions. Still he readily agreed to store their packages until such time as he received instructions how to ship the same to America, accompanied by a tidy little sum to pay his charges.

“If you asked my opinion,” remarked Giraffe, after they had left the place and started off, “I’d say that old chap didn’t wholly believe the story we told. Right now he may think we’re really a party of British Boy Scouts, over here in the land of the Kaiser to learn some of the garrison secrets, so in case of an invasion later on the beefeaters would know where the weak places in the defences are.”

“Do you think he would go to the trouble to inform some of the military authorities of his suspicions, and get them after us?” asked Bumpus, looking concerned, as well he might, for every delay promised to make his task of rejoining his ailing mother more difficult.

“Let’s hope not,” said Thad; “but these Germans certainly do have the greatest secret service ever known. They get their news in a thousand ways, I’ve heard; and this war is going to give the world the biggest surprise it ever had.”

When Thad made that remark he little knew what wonderful things were fated to come to light connected with the spy system of Germany, which would prove to be the most elaborate ever conceived by any nation, modern or otherwise.

“Next to Americans, they’re the most wonderful people under the sun!” boldly declared Giraffe, whose ancestors had lived along that same Rhine river, so that he could not help but feel very kindly toward the whole Teuton race.

There was Bumpus who was on the other side of the fence, for the Hawtrees came of good old English stock. Hence he and Giraffe often had friendly little tilts, each standing up for the land from which his ancestors sprang. That little remark about the “beefeaters” was meant as a sort of sly slur at Bumpus by the boy with the long neck, though for once it failed to arouse any comment.