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Upon receiving the signal Kenneth began to haul. To his great surprise Rollo was pulled through the narrow opening with very little difficulty. Once more they were free; but they were not yet out of the wood. Between them and the Belgian army lay the lines of a vigilant and wary foe.
CHAPTER XVIII
Through the Enemy's Lines
"Everything's all clear, as far as I can see," reported Kenneth. "The question is, how are we to rejoin our regiment?"
"I can foot it," declared Rollo.
"But not ten miles. Your ankle would give out before you walked a hundred yards. What I vote we do is that I ride the bike and take you on the carrier."
Rollo shook his head.
"Too jolly conspicuous," he protested. "One fellow might stand the ghost of a chance, but two----"
Kenneth turned over the question in his mind for a few moments. To remain where they were was impracticable. They would be starving before many more hours had pa.s.sed.
"Tell you what!" he exclaimed as an idea flashed through his brain.
"We'll rig ourselves out in German uniforms----"
"And get shot as spies if we're collared! No, thanks, Kenneth. If we are to be plugged I'd rather be in Belgian uniform, since a British one is at present out of the question."
"It's a risk, I admit. Everything is, under existing circ.u.mstances.
If we are spotted, then there's an end to it and us; otherwise we stand a better chance by masquerading in these fellows' clothes."
"But if we are challenged? We couldn't reply in German."
"You're meeting trouble half-way."
"I like to go into the pros and cons," declared Rollo. "If you can convince me that your scheme is a sound one, I'm on; otherwise--dead off. For one thing, where are the German uniforms?"
"You've forgotten the Uhlans we slung into the ditch."
Rollo shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.
"I draw the line at donning the saturated uniform of a dead Uhlan."
"Come, don't be squeamish. If you are never asked to do a worse thing than that in the course of your natural, then you are a lucky individual. You'll find it's like taking a header into the sea on a gusty summer's day. The wind makes you s.h.i.+ver, and you think twice about it, but once you are in the water it's comparatively warm."
"You haven't got over the language difficulty."
"Yes, I have; at least I think so. If we meet any patrols, you must pretend to be half-dead----"
"I guess I shall be dead entirely if we do."
"Badly wounded, then. I'll bandage you up, and at the same time put a scarf round my jaw."
"What for?"
"Haven't you any imagination, old man? Why, to make out I've been wounded in the mouth and am unable to speak a word."
"You may think me an obstinate mule, Kenneth," said his comrade, "but why should two wounded men be trying to make their way to the front?
Naturally they would be making tracks to the nearest field hospital."
"You've done me there," declared Kenneth. "But I can't see how we can go direct towards the German lines. Whether we go to the right or left the road runs nearly parallel to the enemy's front."
"Perhaps we may as well risk it," decided Rollo. "I believe I noticed a plank across the ditch about a mile along the road. The question is whether the bike will stand it over the rough ground."
"She will--she'll tackle anything within reason," said Kenneth optimistically. "So let's make a move."
Overcoming their natural repugnance, the two lads recovered the bodies of a couple of Uhlans from the muddy ditch and proceeded to strip them of their uniforms. These they wrung out, and placed on the broken brickwork to dry.
"I say!" suddenly exclaimed Rollo. "How about these boots with spurs?
Do Uhlans ever ride motor-bikes?"
"Rather! They've a couple of motor-cyclists to each troop. All we have to do is to knock off the spurs, and there you are!"
As soon as the two lads had completed their change of uniforms they made a final reconnaissance. Finding the road clear of troops, Kenneth started the engine and stood astride the saddle, while Rollo took up his position on the carrier.
They looked a pair of bedraggled scarecrows. The Uhlan uniforms were wet and plastered with mud. Rollo's forehead was bound round with a grimy scarf, while, to give a most realistic touch, Kenneth had tied the blood-stained handkerchief that had been applied to his chum's ankle round the lower part of his face, completely covering his mouth.
"Ready?" asked Kenneth in m.u.f.fled tones. Receiving an affirmative reply from his companion, he slipped in the clutch and away the cycle glided.
"Here's trouble!" the lad thought before many yards of road had been traversed, for ahead was a rapidly-nearing cloud of dust that evidently betokened the approach of cavalry or horse artillery.
"Troops of sorts coming," he informed his companion.
"Thanks, quite comfortable," was Rollo's inconsequential reply; for the handkerchief round Kenneth's mouth, the noise of the engine, and the rush of air as the motor-cycle tore along prevented the pa.s.senger from hearing the information given, while Rollo was unable to look ahead.
"Germans in sight!" yelled Kenneth.
This time Rollo understood. Resisting the temptation to look over his companion's shoulder, he drooped his head, as becoming the role of a badly-wounded man.
The on-coming troops turned out to be neither cavalry nor artillery, but a motor section, including a machine-gun mounted on an armoured side-car. Fortunately the pace as Rollo and Kenneth tore past was such that recognition or detection was out of the question.
"Here we are," announced Rollo a few seconds later.
Kenneth quickly pulled up. As he did so he gave a hurried look around.
There were no signs of more Germans, while the motor-cyclist detachment was almost out of sight.
The plank across the ditch was about nine inches wide. In places it was worn to such an extent that there were holes in the wood. Kenneth eyed it with obvious distrust, yet it seemed the only likely means of gaining the open country beyond, across which a footpath promised fairly easy going.
"I didn't know that it was so rotten as that," said Rollo apologetically. "I don't know whether it will bear the weight of the bike."
"We'll risk it anyhow," declared Kenneth. "Can you put your foot to the ground without much pain? You can? Good! Steady the jigger a second."