CHAPTER XXVII
HE PLANS A DESPERATE GAME AND DOES A GOOD JOB
Archer was thoroughly game, Tom knew that, but he did not want to involve him in his own peril unless his friend fully realized what it meant. With himself, as he had said, it was different. But he might have saved himself any worry about his friend. Archer was not only game; he was delighted.
Needless to say, they slept little that night. In the morning they were given a wrench with which they removed the cylinder head amid the gibes of a group of spectators. And there, sure enough, after the piston was disconnected and removed, they found a little, thin crack in the inner cylinder wall.
"Feel o" that," said Archer, triumphantly rubbing his finger nail across it, for it was more easily felt than seen, "and then go away back and sit down, the whole bunch of you. We got a _regularr_ chief engineer here now," he added generously, "and you better treat him decent while he"s here."
Tom shuddered for fear he would say too much.
"He might get exchanged any time," said Archer.
"_Some_ boys," remarked one of the prisoners.
"But findin"s ain"t fixin"s," said a British soldier.
"Oh, ain"t they though!" said Archer. "We"ll have it fixed in---- How long"ll it take to fix it, Slady?"
"Maybe a couple of days," said Tom.
"Mybe a couple o" weeks," said the Britisher.
"Mybe it won"t, yer jolly good bloomin" ole London f.a.g, you!" mimicked Archer. "It"s as good as fixed already."
"Better knock wood, Archie."
"I"ll knock something thickerr"n wood if you don"t get out o" the way!"
said Archer.
One by one they strolled away laughing.
"I"ll give that bunch one parting shot, all right!" said Archer.
"Shh!" said Tom, "look out what you"re saying."
Whether it was because the grim authorities who presided over this unfortunate community believed that the renewed activity of the pump would be advantageous to themselves, or whether it was just out of the goodness of their hearts that they supplied the small quant.i.ty of sal ammoniac, it would be difficult to say, but in the afternoon a small bottle was forthcoming with the label of Herman Schlossen-something-or-other, chemist, of the neighboring town.
The boys smeared some of it on the crack and then poured some into a little vial which had contained toothache drops.
"Things are so bad in Gerrmany they have to use sal ammoniac for files,"
said Archer. "If the warr keeps up much longer the poor people"ll be usin" witch hazel for screw drivers."
"Shhh!" said Tom. It was about all he ever said now.
After dark, with fast beating hearts, they went down to the place which Tom had selected for their operations. It was near the extreme end of the grounds, at a place where the wire ran through some thick shrubbery.
Even a file might have been used here, if a file had been procurable, for one might work fully concealed though always in danger of the sentry"s hearing the sound. But no file could ever get inside of that camp. They were not even obtainable in the stores of the neighboring town, except upon government order and every letter and package that came to the camp was scrutinized with German thoroughness. Since the recent army reorganization in which the number of sentries at camps all through the Empire had been reduced, and since the discontinuance of electrified wiring at this particular camp, the little file was watched for with greater suspicion than ever before, so that the prisoners had regarded it as a joke when Archer expressed the wish for one. The very thought of a file on the premises was preposterous. And what other way was there to get out?
It was necessary, however, to watch for the sentry outside and here was where the team work came in. Archer spotted the gleam of his rifle at some distance up near the provision gate, and he scurried in that direction to hold him with his usual engaging banter, for even glowering "Fritzie" was not altogether proof against young Archer"s wiles and his extraordinary German.
Meanwhile, Tom, first looking in every direction, slipped under the bushes and felt carefully of the wiring. It was not simple flat fencing ranged in orderly strands, but somewhat like the entanglements before the trenches. As best he could, in the dim light, he selected seven places where, if the wiring were parted, he believed it would be possible to get through. The seven points involved four wires. He had to use his brain and calculate, as one does when seeking for the "combination" of a knotted rope, and his old scout habit of studying jungle bush before parting it when on scout hikes, served him in good stead here. He was nothing if not methodical, and neither the danger nor his high hopes interfered with his plodding thoroughness.
Having selected the places, he poured a little of the liquid on the wiring at each spot and hid the bottle in the bushes. Then he rejoined Archer, the first step taken in their risky program.
"How"ll I know the places if I go there?" Archer inquired.
"You won"t go there," said Tom. "I"ll be the one to do that."
"I"m the entertainment committee, hey?"
There was no sleep that night either--nothing but silent thoughtfulness and high expectation and dreadful suspense; for, notwithstanding Archer"s loquacity, Tom refused positively to talk in their box stall for fear some one outside might hear.
In the morning they gave the crack in the cylinder another dose (but oh, how prosy and unimportant seemed this business now), and at evening they screwed down the cylinder head, and with a gibing audience about them, wrestled with the mixing valve, slammed the timer this way and that, until the dilapidated old engine began to go--and kept on going.
"There you are," said Archer blithely, as if the glory were all his.
"Who"re the public benefactors now? Every time you get a drink at that pump you"ll think of Slady and me. Hey, Slady?"
The engine kept on going until they stopped it. And the Philistines put aside their unholy mirth and did not stint their praise and grat.i.tude.
"Two plaguy clever American chaps," said a ragged British wireless operator.
"Slade and Archer, Consulting Engineers," said Archer.
It was a great triumph--one of the greatest of the world war, and the only reason that mankind has not heard more about it is probably because of the grudging German censor.
"I"m glad it went," said Archer confidentially. "I was shaking in my shoes."
"There wasn"t any reason to shake," said Tom. "I knew it would go."
"Same as we will."
"Hush," said Tom.
CHAPTER XXVIII
HE DISAPPEARS--FOR THE TIME BEING
Tom was too sensible to make his trip to the bushes each night. For one thing he wanted to give the mildly corrosive process a chance to weaken the wires. It was a case for small doses. Also he could not afford to attract attention. His hardest job was keeping Archer patient and quiet.
When he did manage a second trip he was gratified to see that the spots he had "treated" were white and salty, like the bar in a battery. He gave them another dose and crawled out cautiously.
Archer, in his excitement, had supposed the whole thing would be a matter of a day or two and his impatience greatly disturbed Tom.