CHAPTER XXXI
THE FRONTIER
RESISTING his first impulse to rejoin his companions Barcroftcrouched upon the unsavoury bundles and drew the corner of thepainted canvas cover over his head. In breathless suspense hewaited.
The clatter of the horse's hoofs ceased. He heard the rider dismountas his boots struck the ground.
"You there, Corporal Pfeil?" he shouted. "Donnerwetter! what do youmean by getting your charge in this fix?"
Receiving no reply the German began cursing volubly, at the sametime expressing his belief that Pfeil and Co. were dead drunk in thebarge cabin and that those rascally Belgians had given them theslip.
The fellow came on board. It required considerable effort on hispart, for by the time he gained the deck he was puffing and blowing.As he walked aft his spurs jangled on the metal deck. So close didhe pass the hiding Barcroft that the latter could have grasped hisankles.
"Schweinhund!" exclaimed the major, for such was his rank. "I'llgive Pfeil something to remember this business. Confound this rain!I'll wait for him in the cabin."
He went below. Presently Barcroft could hear the rasping of a match,and the tantalising odours of tobacco from the after-cabin.
"Now I'm done," soliloquised the flight-sub. "The penalty forinquisitiveness, I suppose. Properly dished unless----"
Seized by a sudden inspiration Billy softly threw back the corner ofthe tarpaulin, crept aft and closed the sliding hatch of the cabin.Before the astonished major could completely realise what washappening Barcroft had shut the massive metal hasp and had securedit by wedging a belaying pin through the staple.
"Shout as hard as you like, my festive!" chuckled the flight-sub;then he, too, realised that he had "put his foot into it." Not onlythat--he had jeopardised the chances of his companions.
Throwing a sack of clothing to the bank Billy leapt ashore, pickedup the weighty bundle and made for the barn.
He found Fuller awake, for Kirkwood had informed him of the dangerthat threatened the explorer.
"We were just coming to your rescue," announced the A.P., "only wesaw that you had boxed the Boche up. What's this bundle for, oldbird?"
"For to-night's fancy dress ball," replied Barcroft. "A suit ofmufti for each of us. We appear in the characters of the Continentalknockabouts."
"What do you mean?" asked Fuller.
"Simply that we must make tracks at once, before Corporal Pfeil andCompany return. Obviously we cannot hope to wander unmolested overthe country if we stick to our flying kit, so with my characteristicregard for your welfare I have procured a stock of second-handclothes for your inspection and choice. We'll push on for a coupleof miles or so and then hide until it's dark. Then, with luck, overthe frontier we jog, without running the risk of being interned bythe Dutch authorities."
The contents of the bag were emptied upon the floor--a weirdcollection of musty and for the most part dirty and ragged clothes.
"Must we, or musty?" inquired Kirkwood sniffing disdainfully
"Both," replied Barcroft decidedly. "Look alive. Pity to have tosacrifice our coats, though. Mine cost me eighty-five shillings onlya month ago. Keep your revolvers. They'll stow in the coat-pockets."
The change of raiment was speedily effected. The discarded gear,folded in as tight compass as possible, was stowed away on the beamsof the barn.
"Who knows," remarked the A.P., "but that we may have a chance ofrecovering our kit, when the Boches have been driven out of Belgium?My word, Billy, you look absolutely IT! Tired Tim or Weary Willymust be your character."
"You speak for yourself, old sport," retorted Barcroft laughing."You're positively not respectable. We tolerate your presence onlyon sufferance. Matter of fact, Tired Tim does suit me," he added,stifling a yawn. "I'm as dog-tired as a fellow can possibly be. Andwhat might you be supposed to represent, John--a Belgian hare?"
"That's about it," replied Fuller languidly. "The main thing is tokeep warm, and trust to luck to get a hot bath later. Some fit, eh,what?"
The flight-lieutenant had appropriated a long cloth coat liberallytrimmed with fur. In its prime the coat might have done credit to awealthy bourgeois of Brussels, but now it would ill-become a cityscavenger.
The rest of the clothes were returned to the sack, with the additionof a couple of heavy stones. Barcroft and the A.P. carried the"incriminating evidence" to the river and hurled it into the water.
"Don't suppose our boots will excite suspicion if we fall in withany one," remarked Kirkwood. "It is impossible to say whether theyare black or brown."
"Or sabots," added Billy. "Without exaggeration we are carrying halfan inch of mud about on them. Now, easy ahead."
Keeping clear of the highway, and following the river at arespectful distance the fugitives covered a distance of about threemiles in less than a couple of hours. The rain was falling heavilyagain, blotting out everything beyond a distance of fifty yards, butby this time the dauntless trio regarded the discomfort withequanimity and as a blessing in disguise.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Puller, suddenly coming to a halt. "There's thefrontier."
Before they were aware of the fact they had arrived within a fewfeet of the seemingly interminable barbed wire fence that separatedoccupied Belgium from coveted Holland. As far as could be seen thebarrier was unguarded.
"How about it?" inquired Barcroft. "Shall we make a dash and riskit?"
"Steady," cautioned the flight-lieutenant. "Suppose, as is more thanlikely, there's a high tension wire running along that contraption?We don't want to be pipped on the post, you know."
"I'll test it," declared Billy promptly.
"How?" asked his companions in one breath
"By this," replied the sub indicating the wristlet compass. "Youhang on here. I won't be long."
"Be careful, then," said the A.P.
"Trust me for that," answered Barcroft cheerfully. "Lie low and keepa sharp look out."
On either side of the fence was a belt of reeds and coarse grass. Inordinary circumstances its height would be five or six feet, but thewind and rain had beaten down the reeds considerably. In places thetangle of grass was almost flat, and, combined with the slipperysoil, formed a trap for the unwary.
"H'm! a fair amount of traffic on either side of the fence,"commented Barcroft as he arrived upon the scene of hisinvestigations. "They've had sentries patrolling up and down, butevidently they don't like the weather."
Kneeling in the slime the flight-sub unbuckled the strap thatsecured the little spirit compass to his wrist, then cautiously heheld the delicate instrument towards the lowermost wire.
The needle was unaffected, even though he brought the compass closeenough to risk a short circuit should the wire be highly chargedwith electricity. Three parallel wires he tested with similarresults. At the fourth, which was about three feet from the ground,the needle oscillated. Whether it was owing to the deviating effectof an electric current or that he had unintentionally jogged thecompass Barcroft could not decide. Withdrawing the instrument hewaited for the sensitive index to come to rest.
"Dash it all!" he ejaculated as he resumed his investigations. "Thatwire is charged. It will mean a fine old job getting through thisfence. Might squeeze through under the lowermost one if it could beprised up. But supposing the electrified wire isn't always thefourth from the ground: what then? I'll apply another test furtheralong."
So intent was the flight-sub in his work that he failed to hear thefaint sound of footsteps stealthily approaching through thesquelching mud. Entirely at a disadvantage since he was crouching onhis knees, Barcroft was most disgustedly surprised to hear aguttural exclamation, the form of which left no doubt as to thenationality of the speaker.
Turning his head Billy found himself at the mercy of a Germansentry, whose levelled bayonet was within a foot of hisshoulderblades.
Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S.: A Story of the Great War Page 31