Part 5 (2/2)

”I think we've both got just the same papers to carry,” said Harry, also in a whisper. ”You see, if one of us gets lost, or anything happens to his papers, the other will probably get through all right. At least it looks that way to me.”

”Harry,” said d.i.c.k, after a pause, ”I've got an idea. Suppose we separate and take different ways to get to Waterloo? Wouldn't that make it safer? We could meet there and go back to Ealing together.”

”That's a good idea, d.i.c.k,” said Harry. He didn't think that their present errand was one of great importance, in spite of what Colonel Throckmorton had said. He thought it more likely that they were being tried out and tested, so that the colonel might draw his own conclusions as to how far he might safely trust them in the future. But he repressed his inclination to smile at this sudden excess of caution on d.i.c.k's part. It was a move in the right direction, certainly.

”Yes, we'll do that,” he said. ”I'll walk across the bridge, and you can take the tube under the river from the Monument.”

They followed that plan, and met without incident at the station. Here more than ever the fact of war was in evidence. A considerable s.p.a.ce in and near the station had been roped off and sentries refused to allow any to pa.s.s who could not prove that they had a right to do so. The ordinary peaceful vocation of the great terminal was entirely suspended.

”Anything happen to you?” asked Harry, with a smile. ”I nearly got run over--but that was my own fault.”

”No, nothing. I saw Graves. And he wanted to know what I was doing.”

”What did you tell him?”

”Nothing. I said, 'Don't you wish you knew?' And he got angry, and said he didn't care.”

”It wasn't any of his business. You did just right,” said Harry.

They had to wait a few moments to see Major French, who was exceedingly busy. They needed no one to tell them what was going on. At every platform trains were waiting, and, even while they looked on, one after another drew out, loaded with soldiers. The windows were whitewashed, so that, once the doors of the compartments were closed, none could see who was inside.

There was no cheering, which seemed strange at first, but it was so plain that this was a precautionary measure that the boys understood it easily enough. Finally Major French, an energetic, sunburned man, who looked as if he hadn't slept for days, came to them. They handed him the papers they carried. He glanced at them, signed receipts which he handed to them, and then frowned for a moment.

”I think I'll let you take a message to Colonel Throckmorton for me,” he said, then, giving them a kindly smile. ”It will be a verbal message. You are to repeat what I tell you to him without a change. And I suppose I needn't tell you that you must give it to no one else?”

”No, sir,” they chorused.

”Very well, then. You will tell him that trains will be waiting below Surbiton, at precisely ten o'clock to-night. Runways will be built to let the men climb the embankment, and they can entrain there. You will remember that?”

”Yes, sir.”

”You might as well understand what it's all about,” said the major. ”You see, we're moving a lot of troops. And it is of the utmost importance for the enemy to know all about the movement and, of course, just as important for us to keep them from learning what they want to know. So we are covering the movement as well as we can. Even if they learn some of the troops that are going, we want to keep them from finding out everything.

Their spy system is wonderfully complete and we have to take every precaution that is possible. It is most important that you deliver this message to Colonel Throckmorton. Repeat it to me exactly,” he commanded.

They did so, and, seemingly satisfied, he let them go. But just as they were leaving, he called them back.

”You'd go back by the underground, I suppose,” he said. ”I'm not sure that you can get through for the line is likely to be taken over, temporarily, at any moment. Take a taxicab--I'll send an orderly with you to put you aboard. Don't pay the man anything; we are keeping a lot of them outside on government service, and they get their pay from the authorities.”

The orderly led them to the stand, some distance from the station, where the cabs stood in a long row, and spoke to the driver of the one at the head of the rank. In a moment the motor was started, and they were off.

The cab had a good engine, and it made good time. But after a little while Harry noticed with some curiosity that the route they were taking was not the most direct one. He rapped on the window gla.s.s and spoke to the driver about it.

”Got to go round, sir,” the man explained. ”Roads are all torn up the straight way, sir. Won't take much longer, sir.”

Harry accepted the explanation. Indeed, it seemed reasonable enough. But some sixth sense warned him to keep his eyes open. And at last he decided that there could be no excuse for the way the cab was proceeding. It seemed to him that they were going miles out of the way, and decidedly in the wrong direction. He did not know London as well as a boy who had lived there all his life would have done. But his scout training had given him a remarkable ability to keep his bearings. And it needed no special knowledge to realize that the sun was on the wrong side of the cab for a course that was even moderately straight for Ealing.

They had swung well around, as a matter of fact, into a northwestern suburban section, and once he had seen a maze of railway tracks that meant, he was almost sure, that they were pa.s.sing near Willisden Junction. Only a few houses appeared in the section through which the cab was now racing, and pavements were not frequent. He spoke to d.i.c.k in a whisper.

”There's something funny here,” he said. ”But, no matter what happens, pretend you think it's all right. Let anyone who speaks to us think we're foolish--it'll be easier for us to get away then. And keep your eyes wide open, if we stop anywhere, so that you will be sure to know the place again!”

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