Part 15 (1/2)

”Yes, but who's going to do it?” he said. ”We've just one constable here in Bray. And if there are Germans there in any number, what could he do? I suppose we might send word to Hambridge and get some police or some territorials over. Yes, that's the best thing to do.”

But now d.i.c.k spoke up in great eagerness.

”I don't know, sir,” he suggested. ”If the soldiers came, the men in the house there would find out they were coming, I'm afraid. Perhaps they'd get away, or else manage to hide everything that would prove the truth about them. I think it would be better to report direct to Colonel Throckmorton.

He knows what we found out near London, sir, you see, and he'd be more ready to believe us.”

”Yes, probably you're right. Ring him up, then. It's late, but he won't mind.”

What a different story there would have been to tell had someone had that thought only half an hour earlier! But it is often so. The most trivial miscalculation, the most insignificant mistake, seemingly, may prove to be of the most vital importance. d.i.c.k went to the telephone. It was one of the old-fas.h.i.+oned sort, still in almost universal use in the rural parts of England, that require the use of a bell to call the central office. d.i.c.k turned the crank, then took down the receiver. At once he heard a confused buzzing sound that alarmed him.

”I'm afraid the line is out of order, sir,” he said.

And after fifteen minutes it was plain that he was right. The wire had either been cut or it had fallen or been short circuited in some other way.

d.i.c.k and Jack looked at one another blankly. The same thought had come to each of them, and at the same moment.

”They've cut the wires!” said d.i.c.k. ”Now what shall we do? We can't hear from Harry, either!”

”We might have guessed they'd do that!” said Jack. ”They must have had some one out to watch us, d.i.c.k--perhaps they thought they'd have a chance to catch us. They know that we've found out something, you see! It's a good thing we stayed where we could make people hear us if we got into any trouble.”

”Oh, nonsense!” said the vicar, suddenly. ”You boys are letting your imaginations run away with you! Things like that don't happen in England.

The wire is just out of order. It happens often enough, Jack, as you know very well!”

”Yes, sir,” said Jack, doggedly. ”But that's in winter, or after a heavy storm--not in fine weather like this. I never knew the wire to be out of order before when it was the way it is now.”

”Well, there's nothing to be done, in any case,” said the vicar. ”Be off to bed, and wait until morning. There's nothing you can do now.”

d.i.c.k looked as if he were about to make some protest, but a glance at Jack restrained him. Instead he got up, said good-night and followed Jack upstairs. There he took his bath, except that he subst.i.tuted cold water for the hot, for he could guess what Jack meant to do. They were going out again, that was certain. And, while it is easy to take cold, especially when one is tired, after a hot bath, there is no such danger if the water is cold.

”Do you know where the telephone wire runs?” he asked Jack.

”Yes, I do,” said Jack. ”I watched the men when they ran the wire in. There are only three telephones in the village, except for the one at Bray Park, and that's a special, private wire. We have one here, Doctor Brunt has one, and there's another in the garage. They're all on one party line, too. We won't have any trouble in finding out if the wire was cut, I fancy.”

Their chief difficulty lay in getting out of the house. True, Jack had not been positively ordered not to go out again, but he knew that if his father saw him, he would be ordered to stay in. And he had not the slightest intention of missing any part of the finest adventure he had ever had a chance to enjoy--not he! He was a typical English boy, full of the love of adventure and excitement for their own sake, even if he was the son of a clergyman. And now he showed d.i.c.k what they would have to do.

”I used to slip out this way, sometimes,” he said. ”That was before I was a scout. I--well, since I joined, I haven't done it. It didn't seem right.

But this is different. Don't you think so, d.i.c.k?”

”I certainly do,” said d.i.c.k. ”Your pater doesn't understand, Jack. He thinks we've just found a mare's nest, I fancy.”

Jack's route of escape was not a difficult one. It led to the roof of the scullery, at the back of the house, and then, by a short and easy drop of a few feet, to the back garden. Once they were in that, they had no trouble.

They could not be heard or seen from the front of the house, and it was a simple matter of climbing fences until it was safe to circle back and strike the road in front again. Jack led the way until they came to the garage, which was at the end of the village, in the direction of London.

Their course also took them nearer to Bray Park, but at the time they did not think of this.

”There's where the wire starts from the garage, d'ye see?” said Jack, pointing. ”You see how easily we can follow it--it runs along those poles, right beside the road.”

”It seems to be all right here,” said d.i.c.k.