Boy Scouts Mysterious Signal | Page 8

followed with much interest, taking note of everything as he went along. Here he saw a group of soldiers resting after some evidently heavy work. There another group were arranging their accoutrements and polishing their weapons as they rested in the shade of a broken wall that had withstood the heavy hammering of the immense German guns during the days of bombardment of the city.
Wagons were drawn up along the side of the street, gasoline trucks were darting hither and thither on various errands, while small groups of horsemen were constantly passing to and fro about the town.
Everywhere was activity, indicating to Jimmie that not only were the Germans investing the city and preparing it for their occupation, but that other preparations were under way. This could only mean to the lad that the commander of the invading forces was preparing to press the advantage he had gained by following the Russian army he had driven from Peremysl and attempt to administer a crushing blow.
"What is all this bustle about, Otto?" he asked presently.
"Ach, I know not," was the reply. "Und if I should know, it is verboten that I should say. You will discover in good time."
"That's all right, but I'll bet my last year's hat that you know pretty well what's going on if you'd only talk a bit."
"That is perhaps so and perhaps not so," replied Otto.
"All right; I vote yes on the amendment," persisted Jimmie, feeling that by a little maneuvering he could learn something from his guide. "From what the Captain said while we were in the house and you were on the street, I understand that your regiment will be one of the first to be tolled off to pursue the Russians. Maybe he'll send me with them. I do hope so, for that will give me a chance to get a whack at them in payment for the hard treatment I received."
"Ach, nein!" protested Otto, evidently endeavoring to set Jimmie right. "My regiment is to return. We have done our work here."
"I thought so all the time," muttered Jimmie. "You may have been in America a while, but you haven't got wise to the great game of 'bluff' the Americans pull off once in a while. You're easy."
"What is dot?" inquired Otto. "I did not hear what you say."
"I say," replied Jimmie in a louder tone, "I'm hungry. I want something to eat, and I'm curious to know what is in that bundle you are carrying so carefully. Is it dynamite or something?"
"Nein; it is the Russian Cossack uniform you wore. I shall burn it when we arrive at the kitchen you see ahead of us."
"Oh, so you don't like Cossack uniforms any better than I do."
"It is orders," was the German's simple statement.
"Well, here we are at the cook's place," announced Jimmie as the two drew near a movable kitchen equipment in the street.
A few words addressed to the person in charge of the kitchen brought forth a smiling response. In a moment Jimmie was supplied with a small dish of nourishing stew of cabbages and beans.
He devoured the contents of the dish with an appetite, and gladly accepted the cup of black unsweetened coffee that was tendered.
"Thank you! That was just like mother used to make!" he said as he returned the empty dish and cup. "I'll see you again."
Jimmie stepped back a pace, preparing to follow Otto, presuming that he would lead the way to regimental headquarters.
As he glanced about in search of his guide he discovered the German stuffing the discarded Cossack uniform into the furnace underneath a huge kettle. With a startled cry Jimmie grasped frantically at his breast. Then he darted forward and snatched the clothing from the fire.
CHAPTER IV
BURIED ALIVE
"Well, if you're a friend, step forward and let us see what you look like," challenged Ned, turning in the direction from whence the strange voice proceeded. "You needn't be afraid to show your face."
"I'm not the one who is afraid," was the reply.
"We're not afraid, if that's what you mean," retorted the lad.
A chuckle from the newcomer was the only response.
"Are you coming forward?" asked Ned in a rather impatient tone, for his experiences of the last few moments had been enough to cause him to be slightly irritable. "I'd like to see you."
As the lad spoke he peered eagerly toward the blackness surrounding himself and his chums. Owing to the faintness of the flame from their small fire, the darkness lying about them like a dense pall was too great for his eyes to pierce. Try as he might, he could not distinguish even the faintest outline of the stranger.
"If you are afraid of the rats or the Germans you might step over this way and we'll go to a more convenient and pleasant place.