Army Boys on the Firing Line; or, Holding Back the German Drive

by Albert Bigelow Paine

  CHAPTER XX

  A TRAITOR UNMASKED

  When Tom Bradford found himself racing toward the woods, the onlythought in his mind was to put as great a distance as possible betweenhimself and his would-be executioners.

  At every step he expected to hear a shout raised and see a crowd ofpursuers rush from the house like a pack of wolves after their prey.

  The thought lent wings to his feet and he covered the distance inrecord time. And not until he was safe in the shelter of the friendlytrees did he pause to draw breath and cast a glance toward the house.

  If his escape had been noticed, there was absolutely no sign of it.The landscape lay in serene and smiling beauty. Not a trace of lifewas to be seen about the house. It seemed scarcely possible that somuch tragedy and so much peace could exist side by side.

  But he had no time for musing, and after a moment's glance he turnedand burrowed deeper into the woods. There alone for the moment laysafety. In those leafy coverts he could lie concealed, while he tookbreath and thought out the situation.

  He had no idea of where the American lines lay. Bound hand and foot ashe had been during that terrible journey, and tortured by the thoughtsthat had assailed him, he had taken little note of the way he wastraveling. And even if he had, he could not have told with certaintywhat was the dividing line between the hostile armies.

  All that he could do was to exercise the utmost caution, get as deeplyinto the recesses of the wood as he could, and let his future course beguided by circumstances. In a battle area that was so full of soldiersit would not be long before he would catch sight of some of them. Thegreat thing was to see them before they saw him. If they wore Germanhelmets he would keep his distance. If, on the contrary, he should seethe old familiar khaki uniform of his American comrades, his troubleswould be over.

  But if the most important thing was concealment, another problem almostas important was the question of food. He had had only the scantiestkind of nourishment since his escape from the prison yard. The lastcrumb had been eaten that morning. He had no weapon of any kind withwhich to shoot squirrels or rabbits or birds. And he did not dare toapproach a cottage for fear that he might again be placed in the powerof his enemies.

  But he was not yet starving, though exceedingly hungry, and he kept onin the woods, intent upon putting as many miles behind him as possiblebefore he stopped for rest.

  Far up in the wooded hills he came in sight of a little cabin. It wasa dilapidated little shack that perhaps had been used by huntingparties in happier days. It seemed to be entirely deserted, but he waswary and lay in the bushes for an hour or more, watching it closely forany sign of life. Only when he felt perfectly sure that there was noone about, did he creep up to the door and look in.

  He drew a sigh of relief when he saw that it was indeed uninhabited.Not only that, but there was no evidence that any one had visited it oflate. There was no sign of a path and the bushes had grown up close tothe door. One of the hinges of the door had rusted away and the doorsagged heavily upon the other.

  There was absolutely nothing in the hut except a rough board table anda three-legged stool. Tom searched about eagerly in the hope that hemight find some food left by its last occupants. He was notparticular, and even mouldy crusts would have been eagerly welcomed.But even in this he was doomed to be disappointed.

  Still it was something to be under a roof. Human beings once had beenthere, and the fact seemed to bring him in contact with his kind. Andeven this rough shelter was better than being compelled to sleep in thewoods. If he had only had something to still the terrible gnawing athis stomach he would have been content--at least as far as he could becontented while a fugitive, with his life and liberty in constantdanger.

  After he had rested a while he went outside, with the double purpose ofwatching for enemies and trying to find something to eat. He fashioneda club from a stout branch and made several attempts to get a squirrelor a bird by hurling it at them. But the weapon was too clumsy andthey were too quick, and this forlorn hope came to nothing. So thatwhen night at last dropped down upon him he was more hungry than everand had to go to sleep supperless.

  The next morning he was more fortunate, for he came upon a stream thatabounded in fish. He improvised a hook and line and landed severalfair-sized ones. He had some matches in an oilskin pouch, and he madea little fire in a deep depression, so as to hide the smoke, androasted fish over it. He had no salt, but never had a meal tasted moredelicious in his life.

  Now a burden was lifted from his mind. At least he would not starve.Fish, no doubt, would grow wearisome as a diet if it were varied withnothing else. But at least it would sustain life and give him strengthfor the tasks that lay before him.

  He listened for the booming of the guns and tried to figure out fromthe sound just where the contending armies were facing each other.Sometimes they grew louder and fiercer, and at other times seemed torecede, as the tide of battle ebbed and flowed. But there was rarelyany lull in the ominous thunder, and Tom knew that the fiercest kind offighting was going on. He thought of Frank and Bart and Billy, who hefelt sure were in the very thick of it, and he grew desperate at thethought that he was not at their side, facing the same dangers, and, ashe hoped, sharing in the same victories.

  Gradually he worked his way down the mountain, taking the utmost careto avoid detection, until he felt sure from the increasing din that hewas not far from one or the other of the hostile armies. But it was ofthe utmost importance to him to know whether he was within the Germanor the American lines.

  The question was solved for him when, some days later, he caught sightof a file of German soldiers passing through a ravine a little waybelow him. These were followed by others. He sought shelter instantlyupon catching his first glimpse of them, but the bushes were thin atthat point, and a huge tree seemed to offer a more secure refuge. Heclimbed it quickly, and, peering through the leaves, tried to figureout the situation. Rank after rank passed, and seemed to be taking upa position with the view of making an attack. Batteries were drawn up,and their guns pointed in a direction away from where Tom was hiding.This was a valuable, but at the same time a painful, bit ofinformation, because it showed Tom that he was behind the German linesinstead of in front of them. If he had been in front, it would besimply a matter of making his way in all haste to where the Americanarmies lay. Now he knew that in order to reach his own lines he wouldhave to cross through the German positions. And without weapons thiscould only be a forlorn hope. Even had he been armed it would havebeen a desperate chance.

  He was pondering this fact with a sinking of the heart, when suddenlyhe saw approaching a man in American uniform. What could it mean? Theman was not a prisoner, or he would have been under guard. Yet whatother explanation was there for the appearance of the uniform in themidst of the Germans, who swarmed all about?

  The man came nearer, until he paused beneath the tree. He looked aboutas though expecting to see some one. Then he glanced at the watch onhis wrist, and uttered an exclamation of impatience. It was evidentthat he had made an appointment, and that the other party to the trystwas slow in coming.

  The day was warm, and the upward climb through the woods had beenarduous. The man took his hat from his head and wiped his foreheadwith his handkerchief. As he did so, Tom caught his first glimpse ofthe newcomer's face, and his heart gave a leap of surprise as well asrepulsion when he recognized Nick Rabig.

  The last news that Tom had had of Rabig was that he had been takenprisoner in the preceding Fall. He had not known, of course, of Nick'salleged escape from German captivity, and of his return to the Americanlines, but his quick mind readily reached the correct conclusion. Hehad always distrusted Rabig and had felt sure that the fellow was atheart a traitor. He was morally certain that the German corporal, whomNick had been assigned to guard, had escaped with Rabig's connivance,and he remembered what Frank had told him about hearing Rabig's voicein the woods the night the German spy w
as shot. But Rabig's cunning,or perhaps his luck, had prevented his treachery being proved.

  Whatever errand had brought Rabig to this spot, Tom felt sure that itboded no good to the American cause, and even in the precariousposition in which he found himself he rejoiced at the thought that hemight be instrumental in unmasking a traitor.

  While these thoughts were passing through his mind, a German officerapproached from another direction. He saw Rabig, and hastened towardhim. He greeted Nick coldly, and with an air that scarcely concealedthe contempt he felt for the man whose services he was using.

  An animated colloquy began at once. But unluckily for Tom it was inGerman. He hated the language, but just then he would have givenanything if he could have understood what was passing between the twomen.

  The conversation continued for some time. Rabig handed over somepapers which the German officer carefully looked over, using a pencilto follow some lines that seemed to be the tracing of a map or plan.Then he folded them up and put them carefully in his pocket, and aftera few more sentences had been exchanged Tom heard the clink of moneyand saw Rabig tuck something away in his belt. Then the officer stoodup and with a curt nod went away toward the bottom of the hill.

  For some minutes more Rabig remained sitting at the foot of the tree.Then he took money from his belt and counted it carefully. Tomcouldn't help wondering whether it consisted of thirty pieces of silver!

  In Tom's mind a plan was rapidly forming. He looked through the treesin every direction. No one was in sight. From the slope below camethe hum of the camp, but no helmets were visible.

  If Rabig had come through the German lines he had done so by means of apass. That pass would take him back just as it had brought himthrough. He must have it in his pocket now.

  Tom measured the distance between himself and the figure sittingbeneath him. Then with the litheness of a panther he dropped plump onRabig's shoulders.

  The shock was terrific and knocked the breath from the traitor's body.He rolled over and over. Tom himself was thrown forward on his handsand knees, but the next moment he had risen and his hands fastened likea vise around Rabig's throat.