Part 14 (2/2)

But it made little difference to Harry that he was, so to speak, out on bail. The great thing was that he was free. He rushed out, but he didn't make for the scene of the disaster to the reservoir, caused, as he had guessed, by some spy. All the town was pouring out now, and the streets were full of people making for the place where the explosion had occurred.

It was quite easy for Harry to slip through them and make for London. He did not try to get his cycle. But before he had gone very far he overtook a motor lorry that had broken down. He pitched in and helped with the slight repairs it needed, and the driver invited him to ride along with him.

”Taking in provisions for the troops, I am,” he said. ”If you're going to Lunnon, you might as well ride along with me. Eh, Tommy?”

His question was addressed to a sleepy private, who was nodding on the seat beside the driver. He started now, and looked at Harry.

”All aboard!” he said, with a sleepy chuckle. ”More the merrier, say I! Up all night--that's what I've been! Fine sort of war this is! Do I see any fightin'? I do not! I'm a bloomin' chaperone for cabbages and cauliflowers and turnips, bless their little hearts!”

Harry laughed. It was impossible not to do that. But he knew that if the soldier wanted fighting, fighting he would get before long. Harry could guess that regular troops--and this man was a regular--would not be kept in England as soon as territorials and volunteers in sufficient number; had joined the colors. But meanwhile guards were necessary at home.

He told them, in exchange for the ride, of the explosion and the flood that had probably followed it.

”Bli'me!” said the soldier, surprised. ”Think of that, now! What will they be up to next--those Germans? That's what I'd like to know! Coming over here to England and doing things like that! I'd have the law on 'em--that's what I'd do!”

Harry laughed. So blind to the real side of war were men who, at any moment, might find themselves face to face with the enemy!

CHAPTER XII

THE SILENT WIRE

Probably Jack Young and d.i.c.k reached the vicarage just about the time that saw Harry getting into trouble with the police for speeding. The vicar was still up; he had a great habit of reading late. And he seemed considerably surprised to find that Jack was not upstairs in bed. At first he was inclined even to be angry, but he changed his mind when he saw d.i.c.k, and heard something of what had happened.

”Get your friend something to eat and I'll have them make a hot bath ready,” said the vicar. ”He looks as if he needed both!”

This was strictly true. d.i.c.k was as hungry and as grimy as Harry himself.

If anything, he was in even worse shape, for his flight through the fields and the brook had enabled him to attach a good deal of the soil of England to himself. So the thick sandwiches and the bowl of milk that were speedily set before him were severely punished. And while he ate both he and Jack poured out their story. Mr. Young frowned as he listened. Although he was a clergyman and a lover of peace, he was none the less a patriot.

”Upon my word!” he said. ”Wireless, you think, my boy?”

”I'm sure of it, sir,” said d.i.c.k.

”And so'm I,” chimed in Jack. ”You know, sir, I've thought ever since war seemed certain that Bray Park would bear a lot of watching and that something ought to be done. Just because this is a little bit of a village, without even a railroad station, people think nothing could happen here.

But if German spies wanted a headquarters, it's just the sort of place they would pick out.”

”There's something in that,” agreed the vicar, thoughtfully. But in his own mind he was still very doubtful. The whole thing seemed incredible to him.

Yet, as a matter of fact, it was no more incredible than the war itself.

What inclined him to be dubious, as much as anything else, was the fact that it was mere boys who had made the discovery. He had read of outbreaks of spy fever in various parts of England, in which the most harmless and inoffensive people were arrested and held until they could give some good account of themselves. This made him hesitate, while precious time was being wasted.

”I hardly know what to do--what to suggest,” he went on, musingly. ”The situation is complicated, really. Supposing you are right, and that German spies really own Bray Park, and are using it as a central station for sending news that they glean out of England, what could be done about it?”

”The place ought to be searched at once--everyone there ought to be arrested!” declared Jack, impulsively. His father smiled.

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