CHAPTER VI
A STRANGE ENCOUNTER
Instantly all was in confusion in that part of the sleeping quarterswhere the three friends were berthed. Jerry leaped up, followed byNed, and the tall lad flashed on the scene the gleam from his pocketelectric torch.
He saw a strange sight. Bob was struggling in the grasp of awhite-robed figure. The two were tumbling about, each one seeminglytrying to get an advantageous grip on the other. And all the while thefigure in white was shouting:
“I’ve got him! I’ve got him! I’ll kill him now! I’ve got him!”
While Bob, exerting himself to the utmost, could only gasp:
“Let up now! What’s the matter! Ned! Jerry! He’s killing me!”
Ned’s answer to this appeal was to leap on the back of the man who hadBob in what might prove to be a death-grip, while Jerry moved about toget in position where he, too, could help his chum. Meanwhile, thetall lad kept his pocket electric lamp glowing.
“Who is he? What’s he fighting you for, Bob?” cried Jerry, whilemany other soldiers, awakened by the commotion, gathered about thestruggling twain.
The only answer from the stout youth was a grunt, and a gasp.
“It’s _le cochon_!” cried Ned. “That’s who it is! The same fellow whoacted so rotten in the restaurant, Jerry! He’s trying to kill Bob! Hemust be crazy!”
At first, as Jerry admitted afterward, this was his thought also. Buta second look at Bob’s midnight assailant told a different story. Thisman had a shock of red hair, while the other had been almost bald. Andthere was a great difference in the physique of the two.
Ned was doing his best to pull the fellow away from Bob by a rearattack, and to this end Jerry likewise lent his aid. Other soldiersalso joined in to separate the two struggling ones, and they worked tosuch good advantage that the desperate grip on Bob’s throat was broken,his attacker pulled away and his arms held behind him.
NED WAS DOING HIS BEST TO PULL THE FELLOW AWAY FROM BOB.]
“Why it’s Meldon!” some one shouted. “It’s Meldon of the Twenty-seventh.He was in the hospital!”
And Meldon, if that was the name of the man in white pajamas, lookedwonderingly about him, passed his hand over his eyes as if in a daze,and murmured:
“Where am I? What happened?”
“Lots happened, old man,” answered Ned, himself panting from theviolence of the struggle.
“Are you all right, Bob?” he asked his chum.
Bob carefully and tenderly felt of his throat before answering.
“I--I guess so,” he replied, after a pause. “But what’s the idea ofgiving me the once-over like that?” he demanded of his assailant.
The latter acted most strangely. He looked from one to the other ofthose about him, including those who held him tightly, and again, hepassed his hand over his forehead, one arm having been released when itwas seen that he was going to offer no more resistance.
At that moment, when every one was wondering what it all meant, a nursecame hurrying in.
“Here he is!” she called to a doctor who followed. “Is he hurt?” sheasked the soldiers about the pajama-clad one.
“No,” answered Jerry. “But he came near----”
“Did he attack any one?” interposed the surgeon quickly.
“You might call it that,” answered Bob, with an attempt at a smile.
“Just what I feared!” exclaimed the medical man. “We’ll have to keephim under closer restraint.”
“Who is he, sir?” asked Jerry, saluting the surgeon, who bore the rankof major. “All we know is that we heard a commotion in the dark, andfound my chum here, Bob Baker, struggling with this man.”
“Meldon is a private suffering from shell shock,” answered the doctor.“He has violent spells, and then gets up and imagines he’s attacking aGerman.”
The soldier in pajamas seemed to have become completely quiet now. Hegently shook himself loose from those holding him, and, advancing toBob, held out his hand.
“I’m all kinds of sorry, old man,” he said in a cultured voice. “Thesespells come on me before I know it, but they’re getting less frequent.All I know is that I went to sleep in my usual berth and woke up havinga dickens of a fight. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But it must havecome on me in my sleep, and I thought I was back again fighting theHuns.”
“Well, as long as you did your share of that I’ll call it square,” saidBob, with a laugh. “At first I thought you were----”
He stopped, with a significant look at Ned and Jerry.
“Did you think I was a Boche, too?” asked the soldier who had causedthe commotion.
“Well, not exactly,” Bob answered slowly, for he had been about to saythat he had thought his assailant was none other than the queer littleman--a thought shared by Ned and Jerry.
“Well, I hope it doesn’t happen again,” said the afflicted one. “AndI’m sure it won’t. I’m getting better, I know.”
“We’ll keep him a little more confined than we have been doing,” saidthe doctor to Jerry and his friends, when the nurse had led away theshell-shocked individual. “This is the second or third time he hasgotten loose in the night and started a fight. Fortunately, none ofthem ended seriously. Better let me look you over,” the medical majorsuggested to Bob. “He didn’t bite you anywhere, did he?”
“Not a bite!” answered Bob, with a laugh. “Though he did gouge me a biton the neck.”
Bob’s throat was scratched by the other’s finger nails, and anantiseptic wash was applied to prevent any possible bad effect. Thensuch quiet as was possible under the circumstances replaced themidnight excitement.
“At first I thought it was _le cochon_,” remarked Ned in a low voice tohis chums, as they turned in to get what sleep they could.
“That was my first idea when I awoke and found him choking me,”admitted Bob. “Though I couldn’t form any good reason why he shouldwant to put me out of business.”
“There’s something queer about _le cochon_,” declared Jerry. By commonconsent the boys had adopted that name for the strange little man.“Why should he be on board here where no civilians--or at least noneunless specially qualified--are permitted? And why should he have sucha feeling against Professor Snodgrass?”
“Those are questions I’d like to have answered,” said Ned. “Did eitherof you ever hear our professor speak of an individual who somewhatresembled him?”
“If he ever knew such to be a fact,” declared Jerry, “he’d never giveit a thought or remember to tell us. All he thinks of is bugs, bugs,and then more bugs.”
“Guess you’re right,” assented Bob. “But this man must know ourprofessor, and also have no liking for him, or he wouldn’t have calledhim such names as he did.”
“We oughtn’t to have stood for that!” said Ned vigorously.
“No,” agreed Jerry. “But it was better to let the thing go as it did.No use having too much of a row. Now let’s go to sleep. I’m tired.”
Next day the _Sherman_ was many miles further out to sea on herhomeward-bound voyage. Jerry and his chums inquired for the soldierwho had attacked Bob, and learned that he was progressing towardrecovery as well as could be expected.
It was the third day out that, as Ned, Bob and Jerry were comingback from the “sick bay,” or hospital, where they had been to callon Meldon, and when they were walking along a dimly-lighted passage,they saw some one approaching them. As the passage was narrow they allsqueezed back against the wall to let the person who was nearing thempass. But the latter, at the sight of the three boys, seemed to changehis plans.
Instead of passing he turned suddenly, and, with a muttered exclamation,swung back. Not before, however, Jerry had time to notice that hecarried a black object under one arm. And as soon as the tall ladobserved this Ned exclaimed:
“What’s that funny smell? Isn’t it like a burning fuse?”
The Motor Boys Bound for Home; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Wrecked Troopship Page 6