CHAPTER XI
THE FIRST BLOW
To Harry, as he was taken off to the police station, it seemed thehardest sort of hard luck that his chase of Graves should be interruptedat such a critical time and just because he had been over-speeding. Buthe realized that he was helpless, and that he would only waste hisbreath if he tried to explain matters until he was brought beforesomeone who was really in authority. Then, if he had any luck, he mightbe able to clear things up. But the men who arrested him were only doingtheir duty as they saw it, and they had no discretionary power at all.
When he reached the station he was disappointed to find that no one wason duty except a sleepy inspector, who was even less inclined to listento reason than the constables. "Everyone who breaks the law has a goodexcuse, my lad," he said. "If we listened to all of them we might aswell close up this place. You can tell your story to the magistrate inthe morning. You'll be well treated tonight, and you're better off withus than running around the country--a lad of your age! If I were yourfather, I should see to it that you were in bed and asleep before this."
There was no arguing with such a man, especially when he was sleepy. SoHarry submitted, very quietly, to being put into a cell. He was nottreated like a common prisoner, that much he was grateful for. His cellwas really a room, with windows that were not even barred. And he sawthat he could be very comfortable indeed.
"You'll be all right here," said one of the constables. "Don't worry, mylad. You'll be let off with a caution in the morning. Get to sleepnow--it's late, and you'll be roused bright and early in the morning."
Harry smiled pleasantly, and thanked the man for his good advice. But hehad no intention whatever of taking it. He did not even take off hisclothes, though he did seize the welcome chance to us the washstand thatwas in the room. He had been through a good deal since his last chanceto wash and clean up, and he was grimmy and dirty. He discovered, too,that he was ravenously hungry. Until that moment, he had been tooactive, too busy with brain and body, to notice his hunger.
However, there was nothing to be done for that now. He and Dick had notstopped for meals that day since breakfast, and they had eaten theiremergency rations in the early afternoon. In the tool case on hisimpounded motorcycle, Harry knew there were condensed food tables--eachthe equivalent of certain things like eggs, and steaks and chops. Andthere were cakes of chocolate, too, the most nourishing of foods thatwere small in bulk. But the knowledge did him little good now. He didn'teven know where the motorcycle had been stored for the night. It hadbeen confiscated, of course; in the morning it would be returned to him.
But he didn't allow his thoughts to dwell long on the matter of food. Itwas vastly more important that he should get away. He had to get hisnews to Colonel Throckmorton. Perhaps Dick had done that. But hecouldn't trust that chance. Aside from that, he wanted to know what hadbecome of Dick. And, for the life of him, he didn't see how he was toget away.
"If they weren't awfully sure of me, they'd have locked me up a lot morecarefully than this," he reflected. "And of course it would be hard. Icould get out of here easily enough."
He had seen a drain pipe down which, he felt sure, he could climb.
"But suppose I did," he went on, talking to himself. "I've got an ideait would land me where I could be seen from the door--and I supposethat's open all night. And, then if I got away from here, everypoliceman in this town would know me. They'd pick me up if I tried toget out, even if I walked."
He looked out of the window. Not so far away he could see a faint glarein the sky. That was London. He was already in the suburban chain thatringed the great city. This place--he did not know its name,certainly--was quite a town in itself. And he was so close to Londonthat there was no real open country. One town or borough ran right intothe next. The houses would grow fewer, thinning out, but before the gapbecame real, the outskirts of the next borough would be reached.
Straight in front of him, looking over the house tops, he could see thegleam of water. It was a reservoir, he decided. Probably it constitutedthe water supply for a considerable section. And then, as he looked, hesaw a flash--saw a great column of water rise in the air, and descend,like pictures of a cloudburst. A moment after the explosion, he heard adull roar. And after the roar another sound. He saw the water fade outand disappear, and it was a moment before he realized what washappening. The reservoir had been blown up! And that meant more than thedanger and the discomfort of an interrupted water supply. It meant animmediate catastrophe--the flooding of all the streets nearby. InEngland, as he knew, such reservoirs were higher than the surroundingcountry, as a rule. They were contained within high walls, and, after arainy summer, such as this had been, would be full to overflowing. Hewas hammering at his door in a moment, and a sleepy policeman, arousedby the sudden alarm, flung it open as he passed on his way to the floorbelow.
Harry rushed down, and mingled, unnoticed, with the policemen who hadbeen off duty, but summoned now to deal with this disaster. Theinspector who had received him paid no attention to him at all.
"Out with you, men!" he cried. "There'll be trouble over this--notelling but what people may be drowned. Double quick, now!"
They rushed out, under command of a sergeant. The inspector stayedbehind, and now he looked at Harry.
"Hullo!" he said. "How did you get out?"
"I want to help!" said Harry, inspired. "I haven't done anything reallywrong, have I? Oughtn't I be allowed to do whatever I can, now thatsomething like this has happened?"
"Go along with you!" said the inspector. "All right! But you'd bettercome back--because we've got your motorcycle, and we'll keep that untilyou come back for it."
But it made little difference to Harry that he was, so to speak, out onbail. The great thing was that he was free. He rushed out, but he didn'tmake for the scene of the disaster to the reservoir, caused, as he hadguessed, by some spy. All the town was pouring out now, and the streetswere full of people making for the place where the explosion hadoccurred. It was quite easy for Harry to slip through them and make forLondon. He did not try to get his cycle. But before he had gone very farhe over took a motor lorry that had broken down. He pitched in andhelped with the slight repairs it needed, and the driver invited him toride along with him.
"Taking in provisions for the troops, I am," he said. "If you're goingto Lunnon, you might as well ride along with me. Eh, Tommy?"
His question was addressed to a sleepy private, who was nodding on theseat beside the driver. He started now, and looked at Harry.
"All aboard!" he said, with a sleepy chuckle. "More the merrier, say I!Up all night--that's what I've been! Fine sort of war this is? Do I seeany fightin'? I do not! I'm a bloomin' chaperone for cabbages andcauliflowers and turnips, bless their little hearts!"
Harry laughed. It was impossible not to do that.
But he knew that if the soldier wanted fighting, fighting he would getbefore long. Harry could guess that regular troops--and this man was aregular--would not be kept in England as soon as the territorials andvolunteers in sufficient number had joined the colors. But meanwhileguards were necessary at home.
He told them, in exchange for the ride, of the explosion and the floodthat had probably followed it.
"Bli'me!" said the soldier, surprised. "Think of that, now! What willthey be up to next--those Germans? That's what I'd like to mow! Comingover here to England and doing things like that! I'd have the law on'em--that's what I'd do!"
Harry laughed. So blind to the real side of war were men who, at anymoment, might find themselves face to face with the enemy!
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