Army Boys on German Soil: Our Doughboys Quelling the Mobs Part 23

CHAPTER XX

THE CLAWS OF THE HUNS

There was a wild tumult of questions and answers. None of the Army Boys knew what they were doing or saying. The escape had been so narrow, the relief at deliverance so great, that they were simply incoherent for a while.

"Thank heaven, old man, that we have you with us again safe and sound!" cried Frank, as he grasped his comrade's hand and almost wrung it off.

"I felt as though my heart were going to come out of my body while I watched you," said Bart, gripping the other hand.

"It seemed ages while we stood waiting for the lieutenant to give the word," added Billy, giving vent to his feelings by giving Tom a hug like that of a boa constrictor.

"I don't know yet whether I'm awake or dreaming," said Tom, with a laugh that was a little shaky. "You boys surely did come just in time. I never expected to see you again. And yet I might have known that you'd find me if I was on top of the earth."

"You made a game fight for it, old boy," said Frank admiringly.

"Gee, what a clip you gave those fellows with that spade,"

chuckled Billy. "They went down like cattle hit with an axe."

"You might have won out even without us," said Bart "If you had once got into those woods they'd have had to do some traveling to catch you."

"They'd probably have caught me with a bullet," laughed Tom. "Can you imagine, boys, how I felt when I saw you fellows fairly seem to come up out of the ground? I hadn't really thought that I had a chance to escape. But I made up my mind that if I had to go I'd take some of those Huns along with me. That spade that they wanted me to dig my grave with was a good friend of mine."

"Where they made a mistake was not digging the grave themselves and letting your hands stay tied," said Billy. "But here comes the lieutenant."

Lieutenant Winter came along the line and greeted Tom warmly.

"Good work you did with that spade, Bradford," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "It simply shows that in fighting it's the man more than the weapon that counts. Well, you're safe with us again, and I'm glad on my own account and for the sake of the regiment.

We couldn't afford to lose a good two-fisted fighter like you. As soon as you've been to mess I'll want to see you again and question you on what you've learned while you've been a prisoner."

He pa.s.sed on to look after the captives and set a guard to maintain order in the town. The ringleaders had been captured, and the rest of the Spartacides were cowed and bewildered. And now, encouraged by the presence of the Americans, the more decent element of the community again a.s.serted themselves and the rioters either fled or went into hiding.

The company cook had been busy foraging, and soon had a hot breakfast ready for the detachment, who after their long vigil in the cold and darkness fell upon it like so many hungry wolves. The Army Boys did their full share, and Tom especially ate ravenously and as though he could never get enough.

"Did they starve you, old boy?" asked Frank, as the food disappeared like magic.

"Starve's the right word," answered Tom, as well as he could with his mouth full. "Didn't get a quarter of what I needed. Watery soup and carrots and black bread and once in a while a musty piece of meat. And it wasn't because they were short of food, for they simply gorged. They just wanted to torture me because they hated all Americans, and I happened to be the only one within their reach. Oh, I just love those gentle Huns. I've come to believe that there are only two cla.s.ses in the world--human beings and Germans."

"I've known that ever since I saw what they did in France and Belgium," remarked Bart. "No other people on earth could have done it!"

After they had finished their meal Tom received a summons to go to the hall that Lieutenant Winter had selected as his temporary quarters. When he entered the hall he started, for he saw among the men standing there the man whom the lieutenant had captured and used as a guide to the parade ground. The man saw him at the same time and sought to efface himself among the others.

"Do you know that man?" asked the lieutenant, who had seen Tom's start of surprise.

"Only too well," said Tom, in a tone where bitterness and scorn were mingled.

"What about him?" asked the lieutenant.

"He's one of the ringleaders of that gang of highbinders,"

answered Tom.

The lieutenant looked at the man stonily.

"So you're the peaceful citizen that knew so little about the Spartacides, are you?" he asked bitingly.

The man started to protest, but the lieutenant shut him up brusquely and turned to Tom.

"It's lucky you came in just when you did," he said. "I was just about to let this man go because of his services in showing us where the parade ground was. I know now why he was so reluctant to do it." "He did it to save his own skin," answered Tom. "He's a coward as well as a murderer. He's been responsible for other executions that have taken place here in the last few days. He's been one of the bloodiest of the lot, and whenever he saw one of the gang begin to weaken he's stiffened him up. He started out this morning to go to another town to stir up the same kind of riot and murder. I heard him talking about it last night. And just before he went he came to the room where I was confined and taunted me. Told me that I'd be food for the worms to-morrow and that before long there'd be a lot of Americans to keep me company."

The man again started to protest, but one of the doughboys who was on guard gripped him by the collar and dug his knuckles into his neck as he yanked him back.

"Take him away and put him in the same cell where Bradford was held," commanded the lieutenant. "He shall have a taste of his own medicine. He'll get a trial when he gets to Coblenz, and the chances are that he'll face a firing squad. Such fiendish work as he's been doing is going to be stopped if it takes the whole American army to do it!"

The eyes of the Americans followed the cringing figure of the German as he was led away, and then the lieutenant turned to Tom.

"Now for your story, Bradford," he said, and took a pen and prepared to jot down the main points of the former prisoner's experience.

CHAPTER XXI

SQUARING ACCOUNTS

Tom told in detail just what had happened since he had fallen into the hands of the Huns. He had been taken from place to place and treated with the greatest harshness. Everywhere he had witnessed scenes of bloodshed and cruelty. The Spartacides had spared neither age nor s.e.x. They had seemed possessed with a l.u.s.t for murder. Their b.l.o.o.d.y work had a fit emblem in their red flag.

Tom's familiarity with the language had not been great enough to understand all that was said in the conferences that he frequently overheard, though he had picked up enough to know that murder and riot were being planned on an extensive scale in the district occupied by the American Army. Some of the Germans in the mob had lived previously in America, from which they came to serve in the German Army when war had been declared and while the United States was still neutral, and these men, Tom said, were among the bitterest of all. Often in their off hours they would come and stand in front of his cell and tell him blood curdling stories of what they had been doing and of what they were going to do to him also. They had spoken freely, for they regarded him as good as dead, and some of the information he had gained from the talk of these miscreants was regarded as of great value by the lieutenant, whose pen fairly flew over the paper at some points in Tom's narrative.

At last Tom had told the lieutenant all he knew, and after thanking him the officer dismissed him.

He was witness to some touching sights as he made his way back to his companions. There were mothers embracing their sons, wives weeping with joy in the arms of their husbands who had been Tom's companions in the grim march that morning to the rear wall where they were to face death. But there were no fresh stains on that wall this morning, and the graves remained undug, though here and there were seen the first marks of spades where the wretched victims had begun to dig. It had been a close call, and Tom involuntarily shuddered. The cool air that he drew into his lungs had never seemed so sweet to him as now.

He found the Army Boys looking with great interest at a spade which they held out to him as they approached.

"Here's a souvenir, old boy," grinned Billy.

"It's the one you lammed into the Huns with," explained Bart. "My, but that was a mighty wallop. They went down like tenpins."

"I guess it gave them a headache," laughed Tom. "I know that I put all my weight behind the blows."

"One of them will never have any more headaches," declared Frank.

"Even his thick German skull wasn't proof against that blow.

Subsequent proceedings will interest him no more."

"The other one was taken to the hospital with a broken shoulder,"

remarked Billy.