Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops Part 10

"That will be a good way, perhaps, to test out the note," Prescott decided.

Though the two men appeared to be talking earnestly, only a mumble of voices reached d.i.c.k's ears when the men were no more than thirty feet away. Then they stepped into the road, where they halted hardly more than a dozen feet away from the screened captain.

"It's a pity you wouldn't have your nerve," said the stranger, to Mock. "You tell me you hate your captain."

"Wouldn't you, if he had treated you like he treated me?" demanded Mock heatedly.

"Surely I would," agreed the stranger.

"And there's Holmes's friend, that fellow Prescott, who, he, you say, would spend all his time looking into anything that happened to Holmes. You could settle with them both, and then there'd be no one left to worry about."

"Say, just what are you thinking of doing to 'em?" demanded Mock, in a tone of uneasy suspicion.

"There are two things that could be done to them," continued the civilian. "One would be to put them out of the way altogether, and the other would be to bring disgrace upon them so that they'd be kicked out of the Army. That would break their hearts, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," muttered Mock, "but you're talking dreams, neighbor. I'm no black-hander, to creep up behind them with a knife, or take a pot shot at them. I'm not quite that kind, neighbor, and it couldn't be done, anyway."

"You could put 'em out of the way, and no one would be the wiser,"

hinted the stranger.

"How?"

"I'll show you, when I'm sure enough that you're game," declared the civilian. "I'd have to be sure you had the nerve."

"I haven't," admitted Private Mock.

"Do you know, I began to think that before you admitted it?" sneered the other.

"Not the way you mean," flared up the ex-sergeant. "I can be mean in order to get square with a mean officer. But I can get along without putting him under the sod. I'm a good hater, but my mother didn't raise me to be a real crook."

"You're a quitter, I guess," jeered the other. "Anyway, if you claim to be a man of sand you'll have to show me."

"And I guess it's about time that you showed me something, too,"

challenged Mock, looking furtively at the stoop-shouldered man.

"I'm ready enough to show you a whole lot of things, when I find out that you're man enough to stand up for yourself and pay back those who treat you like dirt," retorted the other.

"There's one thing you can show me, first of all," challenged Mock.

"Yes? What?"

"Show me why you're so anxious to have harm happen to Captain Holmes and Captain Prescott."

"Because I like you; because I'm a friend of yours," returned the stoop-shouldered one.

"You're a pretty new friend," Mock went on. "I never saw you until that day when the captain caught me s.h.i.+rking and told off two men to prod me back into camp."

"That was the time for you to know me," declared the other brazenly.

"That was the time when you needed a friend to show you how to get square like a man instead of like a coward and a quitter."

"Be careful with your names!" commanded Mock harshly. "Say, Mr.

Man, who are you, and what are you?"

"Private Mock, I believe I can answer that question for you!" broke in Captain d.i.c.k Prescott, stepping out from behind his leafy screen.

CHAPTER VI

THE ENEMY IN CAMP BERRY

"Captain Prescott!" uttered Mock, starting back in dismay.

"Donner und blitzen!" (thunder and lightning) e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the stoop-shouldered one.

"The fellow has just answered your question for you," d.i.c.k went on, pointing an accusing finger at the stranger. "You know what language he was betrayed into using just now."

"German, sir," said Mock.

"That's right," nodded Prescott.

"Is he one of them Kaiser-hound spies, sir?" demanded Mock, stung to wrath and throwing grammar to the winds. "Why, I've dreamed of catching one and tearing him to pieces. With your permission, sir-----!"

Not stopping to finish Mock threw himself upon the stoop-shouldered one, But that worthy had foreseen it, and adroitly stopped the ex-sergeant with a blow on the end of the nose that dazed him for an instant.

"I'll take care of him, Mock!" cried Captain d.i.c.k, leaping forward.

As he did so the stranger turned and fled. No longer stoop-shouldered, but bearing himself like an athlete, the unknown turned and darted away, Prescott racing after him.

"Get back!" warned the fugitive, drawing an automatic revolver and flouris.h.i.+ng it over his head.

Though unarmed, save for his fists, Prescott continued to pursue with all speed. After both of them raced Private Mock.

d.i.c.k was gaining when he stepped on a round stone, slipped and fell. Mock dashed after him. The fleeing German halted long enough to hurl the automatic pistol at Mock's face, then turned and ran on. Naturally the soldier dodged the missile, which struck the ground behind him. Thinking the weapon might be useful, Mock halted, then ran back and secured the pistol, after which he started to give chase. But the fugitive had vanished in the darkness.

"Come back here and surrender, before I shoot," bluffed Mock, but the German did not answer.

To Mock's intense astonishment d.i.c.k reached over, s.n.a.t.c.hing the pistol from his hand.

"That will be about all, Private Mock," said Prescott sternly.

"You've bluffed your part well, and helped your friend to escape, but at all events I've got you!"

"Do you---" began the soldier, but stopped, further words failing him. d.i.c.k gripped the man's arm, giving a significant pressure before he said:

"You'll come along with me, Mock, and it will be worse for you if you try any further monkey-s.h.i.+nes with me."

He gave another pressure on Mock's arm as he finished. Without a word Mock walked with him to where the horse was tied.