The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields Part 7

"Hold on a minute, Merritt," Rob cautioned him, "you are jumping to conclusions now without being sure of your ground. I've been watching Anthony from time to time and I've noticed that whenever he happened to speak of the gallant doings of his people on the battlefields his face would beam with pride, and what I took to be a touch of envy."

"Oh!" said Tubby, grasping the idea, "then, Rob, you think our guide shook us just because he couldn't hold back any longer. He thought he ought to be on the firing line along with the rest, and get in a crack at the invaders of his country. Is that the stuff, Rob?"

"I'm thinking that way," Rob informed him gravely, "but we've got no time to look Anthony up. Whether he's gone to join the Belgian army or turned back to the city of Antwerp isn't going to cut any figure in our calculations."

"That's about the size of it, Rob," agreed Merritt, beginning to show signs of returning confidence, when the patrol leader spoke with such vim.

"What we've got to do is to figure out whether we want to call the whole thing off just because we haven't a guide to do the talking business for us and turn back to the city, or set our teeth together and push on."

Tubby and Merritt exchanged looks.

The latter even half opened his mouth as if to indignantly protest against giving up the most cherished plan of his life for a little snag, such as the desertion of Anthony proved. Then he suddenly closed his lips firmly. He had remembered an important fact, which was that after all he should not be the one to make such a suggestion. Let one of these good chums, who were his side partners, express an opinion first of all.

That was why Merritt remained silent.

"Oh! we just can't quit at the first puff!" remonstrated Tubby. "Fellows who have been through all we have shouldn't be built that way. Think of the battles we've been up against on the diamond and the gridiron; and did anybody ever hear us complain, or show a yellow streak? Well, I guess not! Tell him how you feel about it, Rob!"

"Just as you do, Tubby," responded the scout leader heartily. "I wasn't counting any too much on Anthony's services, come to speak of it.

Nine-tenths of what we expected to accomplish would have to come from our own hard work. If you put it up to me to decide, I say every time, go ahead!"

Merritt looked almost joyous. Though he was not a demonstrative fellow as a rule, he could not help reaching out and squeezing a hand of each of his faithful chums. Indeed, no one ever knew more reliable allies than Merritt possessed in Rob and Tubby, who were ready to go through fire and water with him, if necessary.

"It may all turn out for the best," Tubby continued, with fine optimism, such as these chubby fellows nearly always show since life looks rosy to them. "And it's going to save you a little money in the bargain, too, Merritt. I must brush up my French and Flemish from now on. Already I can say as many as six words of the first, and I think I know how to almost p.r.o.nounce one in Flemish."

"No trouble to tell what that one is," remarked Rob, laughing.

"It stands for grub!" added Merritt.

"Now, I consider it strange how you should guess so easily," Tubby shot back at them reproachfully. "I suppose I'll have to acknowledge the corn. We've got to eat to live, and so I thought I ought to know the right word that would produce results quickest. Don't blame me, boys; I was thinking of you as well as myself."

"Well, shall we get out of here?" asked Rob. "I don't altogether like the way we are being stared at by some of the people of the village.

They say in Antwerp that there's a hidden sympathizer of the Germans in every city, town and hamlet through the whole of Belgium always trying to send information of value to the enemy."

"Huh! don't know just what to believe, and what to brand as big yarns,"

protested Tubby. "Since we've landed here I've heard stories that would make poor old Baron Munchausen hide his head in shame as a has-been. If one-tenth of the same turned out to be true, these Germans are the most remarkable people that ever lived for getting ready for a war against the whole world forty years ahead of the date. I'm beginning to use my own horse-sense, and figure things out."

Ten minutes later they turned their backs on the little hamlet where a fair meal had been procured, and which had also witnessed their first real misfortune in the base desertion of Anthony.

In many cases they found the roads occupied with throngs of fugitives.

These poor peasants were flocking, in a general way, toward Antwerp, though possibly a few of them meant to cross the line into the Netherlands, where they hoped to be safe from the German armies of invasion that were gradually progressing further and further toward the coast.

A thousand-and-one sights greeted the eyes of the three scouts. More than a few times they stopped for some purpose or other that did their hearts credit. Once it was a limping boy whose condition excited the pity of Rob. He did not hesitate to put to some use the practical knowledge of surgery that he had picked up in company with all the other members of the Eagle Patrol.

Another time they saw a wretched woman trying to mend the wheel of a miserable old handcart, upon which she had some humble belongings, and three small children. That was more than the boys could stand. They stopped their horses, and giving the lines of their mounts into the keeping of Tubby, Rob and Merritt busied themselves with fixing up the disabled wheel.

Although they had next to no tools with which to work, their skill proved sufficient to surmount the difficulty. Inside of twenty minutes the woman was able to trudge along again. She thanked them volubly in Flemish, which they did not understand. Tubby listened eagerly, but owned up that it was beyond the range of his extremely limited vocabulary, consisting, as that did, of but one word.

"Well, that look on her face paid us for all our trouble," Rob remarked contentedly, as he once more remounted, and led the way along the highway.

"It's something fierce where all these forlorn people come from," said Tubby.

"To me the greatest puzzle is where they're all going," Merritt added.

"If you should ask them," Rob advanced as his opinion, "nine out of ten couldn't begin to tell you. Some have had their houses burned over their heads; others I expect have seen their homes destroyed by bursting sh.e.l.ls, where they happened to lie near the place where an artillery duel was going on. So they've just started on the road, hoping to reach _somewhere_ the fighting won't follow."

"It's a terrible sight," sighed Tubby. "I'll never forget it as long as I live. Every minute I'm telling myself we ought to be the happiest people going over in America, to know that we needn't get mixed up in all this butcher business."

Slowly the afternoon wore away. The three chums did not make very rapid progress, and for many reasons. In the first place their horses objected to putting forth any unusual exertion, and seemed to consider that they were doing their full duty by merely working their four weary legs in a machine-like fas.h.i.+on.

Then, again, the roads were cluttered in places with squads of the peasant population fleeing from the battle lines. Three times did the scouts come upon detachments of Belgian soldiers stationed behind temporary intrenchments, where they expected to hara.s.s the advance forces of the Germans whenever they appeared.

From these men they received many curious stares. Of course the soldiers could not understand why three boys in khaki, who were undoubtedly not Belgian scouts, should be heading so boldly toward the scene of carnage, when everybody else was fleeing madly the other way.

They were halted and questioned. At first Rob felt a qualm of anxiety, lest the fact that they no longer had an interpreter in their company to explain things might get them into trouble. That fear soon vanished, however. In every instance it was found that some man could either talk fair English, or else what little French the patrol leader was able to muster explained matters in a satisfactory manner.

The probability was that the message given them by the burgomaster of Antwerp was much more potent than anything else. The worthy official was a well known and highly respected man; and among these commands there were always those who knew him personally, so that his "pa.s.sport," while hardly worth the paper upon which it was written, officially, acted magically with the Belgian officers.

As the afternoon sun began to draw near the western horizon they continued to be on the lookout for some haven of refuge. Another night was coming; they must not only have food but lodging, if this latter could possibly be obtained.

"Of course," explained Rob, as they walked their sorry looking horses on, "while we'd like to find some sort of respectable beds to-night, if the worst comes, we can always make s.h.i.+ft with a haystack. It wouldn't be the first time we've curled up in the hay and s.n.a.t.c.hed a few winks of sleep."

"I should say not," Tubby a.s.sured him. "Only I do hope we manage to strike a dinner-call somehow or other. I can do without a bed, but I must have eats or I'll collapse utterly, like a balloon with the gas let out."

"Please don't think of it, Tubby," Merritt implored him. "We promise to do everything in our power to find the grub. Brace up! We're coming to a village; and I think I can see an inn the first thing."

It proved to be as Merritt had said, and better still, the man who kept the modest little tavern a.s.sured Rob in fair English that he would be proud to serve the honored guests; also that he had once spent a year in the Birmingham machine shops himself.

"Just like all the rest, he takes us for Johnny Bulls," complained Tubby.

"Well, that's partly your fault," Rob told him.

"Just because I'm so well filled out, I suppose you mean, Rob? Well, if they keep on thinking that, I guess I'll have to get busy and cultivate a real c.o.c.kney accent. 'Beg pawdon; thank _you_; my word!' You see I've got a few of their favorite jabs spotted."

As before, they found themselves the object of more attention than any of them enjoyed. People kept peeping in through the open door of the room where the three strange young chaps in khaki were enjoying their really excellent supper.

"Don't mind them," advised Rob, when he saw that Tubby was posing, as if conscious of being in the lime-light. "Let's finish our supper, and then we can sit outside on the porch as the sun goes down, and talk over our plans for to-morrow."

"Yes," added Merritt quickly, "because to-morrow may take us so far on our journey that we'll either find our man, or meet with some bitter disappointment, something I hate to think about."

"Don't do it, then," advised Rob. "We must believe everything is bound to come out right, and that you'll not only run across Steven Meredith, but that the paper will be found under the lining of the cover to his field-gla.s.s case, where he's been carrying it all this while, without knowing it."

"One thing sure," said Merritt grimly, "if he's left that post and gone anywhere else, I'll follow him, hit or miss, if it takes me to the battle front."

"Listen!" exclaimed Tubby. "What's that man shouting, Rob?"

"As near as I can make out," replied Rob quickly, "he says the Uhlans are entering at one end of the town."