The Boy Scouts on the Trail

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"The firing seems to be moving now--moving to the southeast," said
Henri, once.

"I think our left wing is being drawn in a little. That will tighten up
the line. But it gives the Germans still more chance to get around the
wing."

"We can bring up French troops to meet them, Frank. There is the
garrison of Paris--nearly five hundred thousand men. They have not
struck a blow yet. But if the Germans come too near, they will be
brought up to the first line."

"I believe that's what the French plan is, Harry!" said Frank. "Yes, why
not? To lead the Germans on and then take the risk of leaving Paris
defended only by its forts, and try a new flanking movement of their
own. Do you see? A new army, which could outflank the Germans while they
thought they were outflanking us!"

The thought cheered them up wonderfully. It made it possible for them to
bear the sight of Amiens, left without a single soldier of the republic,
when they arrived.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY

The days that followed the return of Frank and Henri to Amiens were busy
but uneventful ones. They had found a few staff officers at the
abandoned headquarters, including Colonel Menier, to whom they had made
their report and turned over the automobile. He had thanked them
heartily, having heard already of their work. And when he was told of
the destruction of the Zeppelins he had embraced them both.

"We had heard already of that," he said. "Only of the burning of the
ships, not of how it was done. You have done well for France, mes
braves! Wait! You shall not find France ungrateful. I go to Paris from
here, to make reports. I shall make one concerning you, to those in
authority. And--who knows?"

He pinched their ears, that gesture loved of French soldiers since the
days of the great Napoleon, of whom his officers said that when he
pinched their ears he conferred an honor they valued more highly than
the cross of the Legion d'Honneur.

After the departure of the last officers of the staff, Amiens took on a
new aspect. The thunder of guns, even the rolling of rifle fire, was
plainly to be heard now in the streets. In the distance--and not a great
distance, either--the smoke of a dozen burning villages was to be seen
to the north and east. It was so that the Germans marked their advance,
steady, relentless. Henri exclaimed in fury at the sight.

"These barbarians of Germans!" he cried. "Burn and kill--and not
soldiers alone!"

"It tears my heart-strings to see all this wanton destruction indulged
in by the foe," said Frank. "What then must be the feelings of the
French as they watch their villages being so ruthlessly burned! But some
day, somehow, Henri, our chance will come and the French will sweep back
into this territory, a victorious host. Not for long will it be in the
power of our foe!"

Every day Amiens expected the incursion of the Germans, but day followed
day and still the enemy did not come. Frank and Henri stayed in the
Martin house alone. The servants had gone; Madame Martin had respected
their fears of the Prussians, and had made other arrangements for them.
So the two scouts camped out there, and Henri invited many of the other
scouts to share their quarters in relays. The house was open, too, to
any refugees who cared to use it, but by this time the country to the
north that was in danger of German raids had been swept clear, and
Amiens was no longer a gathering place. It was in itself too much
exposed.

The smoke of burning villages rose now to the south, toward Paris. The
retreat was still on, it seemed. And while they waited patiently, since
there was nothing else to do, for the coming of the Germans, there was
much work for the Boy Scouts to do. It was routine work now, very
different from the exciting labors that had fallen to the share of
Frank and Henri on the day of their trip to Le Cateau. When Henri became
restless and impatient, as he sometimes did, Frank soothed him.

"We are still serving France," he said. "There are no more soldiers in
Amiens. There are a few police, and those are old men, since the young
gendarmes have gone to join their regiments. But Monsieur le Maire knows
that he can call upon us."

The military authorities, before completing the evacuation of Amiens,
had given strict orders that if the Germans came there was to be no
resistance. And in order to enforce this rule, the mayor detailed the
few remaining police and the Boy Scouts to make a house-to-house canvas,
warning the citizens, and collecting all firearms that might be found.
The scouts worked in pairs on this duty, and Frank and Henri always went
together.

"In Belgium," one of them always explained, in making the demand that
the arms be given up, "Louvain and other towns were destroyed, so that
not one stone remained upon another. And always the Germans made the
excuse that shots had been fired on their men from the houses. Here in
Amiens we must save our cathedral and the other famous buildings. When
the Germans come it will not be for long; soon they will be in retreat
before the armies of France and England."

Many gave up their guns reluctantly. But nearly all did give them up,
and whenever the scouts had reason to think that any were being
concealed, they made a special report on the house, and policemen
returned to make a search.

And this wise planning had much to do with saving the town. The Germans
came at last. At first a single squadron of Uhlans, in command of a
young lieutenant, rode in. Frank and Henri saw them passing their house
and they mounted bicycles at once, and followed them.

"They've nerve," admitted Henri, reluctantly. "See with what arrogance
they sit their horses! They might be riding into a German city instead
of one in which everyone who sees them hates them!"

"Yes, they've nerve," agreed Frank.

There could be no question of the fact. The little squadron of troopers,
almost swallowed up already in the crowd of curious ones who followed
the slow movement of the horses, rode on, seemingly deaf to the mutters
of execration that rose, especially from the women. Not a man turned his
face from the front even to scowl at the townspeople. They rode on, eyes
unswerving. Outside the Hotel de Ville they stopped. A bugler blew a
fanfare, and Monsieur le Maire, in his robes of office, appeared on the
steps. A great cheer from the people greeted him. He bowed gravely to
the Uhlan lieutenant, who saluted stiffly.

"I demand the surrender of the town of Amiens, in the name of his
Majesty the Kaiser and of the German Empire," said the lieutenant, in
excellent French. "You, Monsieur le Maire, will consider yourself my
prisoner. You will be held responsible for the conduct of the
inhabitants. Any attack on German troops will be sternly punished. If
the inhabitants of Amiens behave in a peaceable and orderly fashion they
will not be harmed. Payment will be made for any private property
required by our forces. A brigade of infantry will march in this
afternoon. Quarters must be found for the troops, numbering nearly eight
thousand men. You will be informed later of the requisition the town
will be required to fill, in money and in supplies. For the present you
are required to clear this square, where my men will remain."

The mayor bowed.

"My orders are to make no resistance," he said. "I bow to the
inevitable, regretting that we are not permitted to defend ourselves to
the death. Amiens will keep its faith. No attack will be made, since
that would mean treachery. I will order the gendarmes and the Boy Scouts
to clear the square."

Frank and Henri were of great assistance in doing this work, Frank
taking the lead, since no patrol leader happened to be in evidence.
They and the police soon drove the people back, and the Uhlans
dismounted. There, in the public square, used as a market place, they
proceeded to cook a meal, making a fire in the street. From the sides of
the square the people watched them sullenly. But there was no
demonstration, since both the police and the scouts had explained that
anything of the sort was likely to mean the execution of the mayor, who
was within the power of the enemy.

As soon as the public curiosity to see the hated invaders had been
somewhat satisfied, the people were urged to go to their homes, and by
mid afternoon the streets were deserted. Then began the entrance of the
real force of occupation. At the head rode a general of brigade, a
sombre, stern-eyed man, accompanied by his staff. And behind him marched
thousands of green-gray German infantry keeping step with a marvelous
precision. These men had been fighting hard, but they looked fresh and
trim. And as they marched they sang, raising their deep voices in a
splendid, thrilling chorus.

_Fly, Eagle, Fly_, they sang as they marched into town. And then they
gave way to the magnificent hymn of Martin Luther, the battle song of
the Protestant nations in the Thirty Years' War, the battle song of
Prussia ever since that time, _A Mighty Fortress Is Our God!_

Henri watched them as they marched by, tears in his eyes. Finally he
could suppress the thought no longer, and he turned to Frank with:

"They have said that Germany has fine soldiers, but they are not like
our men! There's all the difference in the world between them--and that
difference will bring victory to our banners. Our men fight for right;
these men fight because they think it their duty."

"Even though they are the foe, I hope there will be no shooting at them
here. If there is, they will show no mercy, I am sure of that," said
Frank.

"Amiens has pledged its honor," replied Henri quietly. "They are safe
here. Will they harm Monsieur le Maire? Oh, do you think they will harm
him?"

"No, I think not if there is no resistance offered. I wonder if any will
be quartered at your house, Henri?"

"I hope not," said Henri, flushing.

A change, as it turned out, was made in that plan. The general in
command of the brigade, who proclaimed himself within an hour of his
arrival as military governor of Amiens, decided to keep his men under
canvas. Tents sprang up like mushrooms in the parks and open spaces.
Amiens was required to furnish great quantities of foodstuffs--bread,
flour, wine, meat. But the troops were not quartered in the houses. And
by nightfall the town seemed to have settled down peacefully to the new
conditions. German aeroplanes were flying constantly overhead; officers
came in, and more troops.

"Amiens is again the headquarters of an army corps," said Frank. He was
suffering almost as keenly as Henri, but he did not mean to let his chum
brood upon the disaster that had overtaken his home. And, after all, it
might have been worse. He thought of Louvain and other Belgian cities.

That night Amiens was a German city. Trains passed through continually
now, bearing troops; some, returning, carried wounded, whose groans
resounded in the silence. And in the distance to the south, toward
Paris, the roar of guns seemed louder again.

CHAPTER XIX

RECOGNITION!

Even the enemy, the hated Germans, found that the Boy Scouts were
useful. There was constant danger of an outbreak, and the Germans had no
desire to destroy Amiens. Had they been attacked from the houses, they
would have lost heavily; in house-to-house fighting civilians, battling
at close range, can inflict great damage on the best of regular troops.
Such an outbreak would have meant the killing and the wounding of
hundreds of German soldiers. The punishment would have been terrible,
indeed, but that would not have brought a single Prussian back to
life--a single Bavarian, rather, since these were Bavarian troops.

The Boy Scouts served as intermediaries between the Germans and the
French civil authorities. They carried messages, and, at the order of
the mayor, they submitted themselves to the orders of the German staff
when it was necessary to explain a new decree to the citizens. They had
many other things to do, also. It was largely the scouts who saw to the
gathering of the supplies requisitioned by the Germans. The enemy had
been inexorable in this respect; they set a definite time limit for the
filling of every requisition they made, and it was well understood that
drastic measures would be taken were they not satisfied.

Each day a new group of hostages was taken into the Hotel de Ville, now
occupied as headquarters by the German staff, rather than the buildings
formerly used by the Second Corps d'Armee of France. These hostages, it
was explained, would be shot at once if orders were not obeyed or if
Germans were attacked. There were many irksome rules. Every citizen was
required to salute a German officer whenever he saw him. Lights must be
out at a certain hour each night, and after that hour any citizen found
in the streets without a permit was liable to arrest and execution
without trial. They were under martial rule.

But always the sound of heavy firing in the southeast continued.

"I really believe the great battle is being fought at last, Henri!" said
Frank. "We have heard that firing now for three days. It comes from the
direction of the Marne. There is another thing. Since yesterday no troop
trains have gone south through Amiens."

"But empty trains go through!" cried Henri. "And they come back, loaded
with German wounded! You are right, Francois! We have begun to drive the
Prussians back to the Rhine!"

News they had none. All Amiens was cut off from the world. Whatever the
German invaders knew they kept strictly to themselves. It was only by
such inferences as they could draw from the sound of firing in the
direction of Paris and by the passage of trains through the city that
they were able to form any opinion at all.

"I feel sure that there's a real battle going on," said Frank. "The
firing is too heavy and too continuous for a rear guard action. But as
to who is winning, we can't tell. Sometimes the firing seems to be a
little nearer again, but that might be because of the wind. And as for
the trains that are going through, that doesn't really mean anything.
They might have decided to send troops to the front by another railway.
They control the line through Rheims, too."

But the morning after they had decided that there was no real way to
tell what was happening, something definite did come up. Nearly all the
troops in Amiens moved south. Only a few hundred remained, enough to
garrison the town and control the railway, since there seemed no danger
of an allied raid. But the fact that the other troops were being sent up
to the front indicated that the fighting was assuming a character far
more desperate than the Germans had expected.

"They must be fighting on the line of the river Marne," said Frank. "You
see, during that long retreat, there was time to entrench there. And
open field entrenchments seem to be better than fortified places. Look
at how quickly Namur fell, when everyone thought it would hold the
Germans back for days."

"The country there is difficult, too," said Henri. "My father said once
that it was there that the garrison of Paris should have fought first in
1870, instead of waiting inside the forts for the Prussians to come."

"I think that everything favors us now, for the first time," said Frank.
"The Germans have been winning--they have made a wonderful dash through
Belgium and France. They must have got very close to Paris. I believe
the roar of guns is as easy to hear in Paris as here. And then,
suddenly, when they think they are to have it all their own way, their
enemy turns and faces them, and holds them. That much we may be sure of.
The battle has been raging now for four days at least, perhaps for five.
And the firing has certainly not gone further away. Even if we are not
gaining, it is a gain if the Germans cannot advance."

They were glad now that they were busy. A few refugees from the south
were coming, driven back by the Germans. Perhaps they would rather have
tried to reach Paris, but the battle stopped that. And always there were
errands to be run, and messages to be carried. It went against the grain
to obey the orders of German officers, and to be obliged to salute these
officers whenever they were encountered, but it was necessary. And the
scouts of Amiens, when they knew what their duty was, did it, no matter
how unpleasant it might be.

Now the troops who formed the garrison of Amiens changed almost daily.
Older men were now in the tents, and some young boys.

"The last classes of their reserves must have been called out," said
Frank. "These are not first line troops that are up, but the ones who
are supposed to guard lines of communication and to garrison interior
fortresses."

There were times when more officers than men seemed to be in the town.
Amiens seemed to be used as a point where shipments of supplies and of
ammunition for troops at the front were concentrated and diverted to the
various divisions at the front. This involved the presence of a great
number of officers of the commissariat department, who seemed to work
night and day.

Men fight best on a full stomach, and the Germans understood this
thoroughly, and saw to it that their soldiers did not have to go into
battle hungry. Amiens also formed the headquarters of one branch of the
German flying corps. Here aviators in great numbers were present
constantly. Damaged monoplanes and biplanes were brought back for
repairs. And it was this fact that brought a startling experience to the
two scouts. For one day, as they rode on their bicycles on an errand
through the square before the Hotel de Ville, they were arrested by a
sudden fierce shout. An officer ran out toward them, his face distorted
with anger. And Frank, with a sinking heart, recognized him as the man
who had fired at Henri on the night they had burned the Zeppelins.

"Arrest that boy!" he cried, pointing to Henri. "He is a spy! He is a
French, spy, I say!"

For a moment Frank hesitated. Then he rode away, leaving Henri to his
fate. He looked back, to see two Germans holding his chum.

CHAPTER XX

A DESPERATE GAME

Frank had sped away because he was afraid that the officer might
recognize him in a moment also. And yet it was not fear, in the sense
that he was fearful of what might happen to him, that led him seemingly
to abandon his comrade. It was the knowledge that were he too a
prisoner, there would be no hope for either of them. He knew how the
Germans must have regarded the destruction of the Zeppelins. It was a
blow that might prove, when the final accounting was made, to have cost
them the success of the invasion of France. And he had no illusions as
to the fate of those who might be proved to be responsible for that.

Technically, they had not acted as spies when they had played the daring
trick that had resulted in such a disaster to the German cause. But they
had been non-combatants, civilians, and by the laws of war the civilian
who takes active measures of any sort against the enemy is liable to
death. The German army enforced this rule strictly and invariably.
Neither age nor sex was a reason for sparing one who had violated it. A
woman spy, a boy of fifteen who fired at Germans, would alike be made to
face a firing squad.

No. If he and Henri were caught, and this officer, who had already shown
his venomous hate for them, was their accuser, they would never live to
see the German defeat for which they prayed. Frank hoped that Henri
would understand, that he would know that he had taken to flight because
it afforded the only chance of saving him.

Frank had reasoned quickly. He had been sure that the next move of the
German officer would have been to denounce him also. But while the
German officer had had a good look at Henri on the night of the Zeppelin
disaster, he had not seen Frank. Frank had been in the shadow when the
officer had tried to murder Henri; he had taken the German by surprise,
and stunned him. And so there was no way in which the German could know
him again, unless he saw him with Henri and so leaped to the conclusion
that he must also have been with him on the night of disaster.

By that process of reasoning Frank argued that he might remain free to
go about the town. The Germans had come to trust the Boy Scouts,
understanding that their honor was pledged when they gave their word,
even to an enemy. Some of the restrictions applying to the other
citizens of Amiens did not restrain them. They were allowed to be on the
streets after the hour of curfew, for one thing. And between the scouts
and a good many of the German privates and younger officers a relation
almost friendly had been established. Frank, for instance, was welcomed
at one Bavarian mess, which contained several soldiers who had studied
at English schools, and liked a chance to air their knowledge of the
English tongue. He hoped to gain some information in this way.

Nor was he wrong. His friends had heard of the arrest of Henri, who,
like Frank, was popular with them. And it turned out that they had
little use for the officer who had caused the arrest. He was known as a
tyrant who had more than once during the campaign shot down his own men
for slight breaches of discipline. Frank learned that he had been
degraded for the destruction of the Zeppelins, for which he had been
held responsible. His superiors had scouted his story of two boys who
had burned the dirigibles, and had assumed that he had been careless.

Therefore Frank found it easy to discover where Henri was confined. He
was to be tried by court-martial early in the morning, and for the night
he was in a room on the ground floor of the Hotel de Ville.

"He's only a boy," said a Bavarian corporal. "No need to guard him
closely. Even if he escaped, where could he go? Our men are everywhere."

Frank smiled to himself. He had made a discovery a day or two before
that had not escaped his mind. That afternoon he managed to make
certain preparations unobserved. And when night came he was ready to
hazard his own liberty, and his life, if that should prove to be
necessary, in an attempt to rescue Henri. He knew the room in which
Henri was confined. It was on the side of the Hotel de Ville that
overlooked the river. No sentries were posted there, and it was easy for
Frank to get to a spot directly underneath Henri's window. The other
bank of the river was well guarded, and that was why no sentries watched
the side on which was the town hall. It was argued, Frank supposed, that
anyone escaping must attempt to swim the river and that when they tried
to climb the other bank it would be easy to find them.

In principle, too, that was a good idea. What it did not take into
account was the discovery that Frank had made--and kept to himself.

It was just before midnight when he began a faint tapping at Henri's
window. He used a light bamboo cane, tipped with soft cloth, so that the
sound, audible to anyone in the room, would not carry more than a few
feet. And he tapped out his signal in the Morse code very slowly,
knowing that Henri would hear and understand.

In a few moments there was the sound of the window opening very gently.
And then Henri slipped down beside him, taking the short drop by hanging
from the window with his hands. He seized Frank's hand.

"I knew you would try to help me," he whispered. "But I had better go
back. We cannot escape. There are sentries on the other bank of the
Somme. They would catch us together, and you would be a prisoner, too."

"Follow me," said Frank. "Take off your shoes. Drop quietly into the
water--make no sound of a splash. Swim after me. I shall show you
something you do not expect to see."

Frank slipped into the water. Both boys were expert swimmers, and Frank,
leading the way, slipped along in the deep shadow, without a sound.
Henri swam after him. At last Frank stopped and whispered to Henri.

"You see this buttress? Dive just beyond it, and swim under water for
ten feet. Put up your hands then, and rise. There will be room."

At once he dived and disappeared, and Henri followed. When they came to
the surface they were in a dark, damp hole, that smelled of slime and
filth. But in a moment Henri felt steps, and then there was a faint
light that illuminated a vault full of water. And, to his wonder, he saw
a boat, covered, except at one end, with a dark cloth.

"In with you!" whispered Frank. "Under the cloth, and lie still!"

Frank followed when Henri had obeyed. And then the boat began to move in
a direction different from that by which they had entered the vault.

"I am pushing it with my hands along the wall," explained Frank, still
in a whisper. "That will bring us to the opening--the smallest possible
that would allow the boat to pass into the stream. Then the current will
carry us down. I have a rudder, that will hold us in the shadow of the
left bank through all the turns. It is a chance--the only one we had. If
all goes well, we shall drift down below the city and be safe!"

Soon they were caught in the current of the Somme. There followed a time
of terrible and desperate trial and terror. At every shout they heard
they thought they had been discovered. Never did they dare to raise
their heads to look out. Their chance was a double one, but of the
faintest, at best. Perhaps they would not be seen at all; perhaps, even
if the boat was seen, no sentry would consider it worth remark.

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