Part 14 (2/2)

”Set the man down here while I give him a drain from my flask. You must not take him away until my officer has seen him.”

”One moment--here is a bank against which I can lean him,” replied Max, still moving steadily away. He could see the non-commissioned officer was getting impatient, if not suspicious, and whispered to Dale: ”I am going to set you down. Directly your feet touch ground, bolt for the river. I will follow and be there as soon as you; but don't wait for me.

_Now!_”

As he spoke, Max slowly lowered Dale to the ground. The soldier was close by, but none else was within some yards. They were beyond the circle of bright light cast by the fire, and a few yards would take them into darkness, which was pitchy to anyone coming from the vicinity of the fire. The chance of escape was good, and Max, the time for resolute action at hand, felt his heart bound with fresh hope and energy.

The moment Dale's feet were on the ground Max gave him a push in the direction of the river and off he flew. Almost simultaneously Max seized his helmet and dashed it in the face of the soldier, who had raised a shout of alarm and was on the point of chasing Dale. The sudden blow disconcerted the man, and he hung in the wind for a moment. The supposed injured man might be an enemy, but it was certain this aggressive fireman was one, and, as Max darted off, the soldier turned, lifted his rifle, and aimed a shot at him.

Max had little fear of the man's rifle. It was too dark, and he was moving too rapidly and erratically, for anyone to take good aim. The bullet pa.s.sed wide of the mark, and the soldier, realizing his mistake in not pursuing at once, instead of wasting precious moments in firing, put his rifle at the trail and rushed madly after, shouting to his comrades and all who might be within hearing that a spy was on the point of escaping.

Max knew the ground and the soldier did not, so Max had no difficulty in increasing his lead. He could see Dale a dozen yards ahead, and by the time he reached the bank had caught him up.

”In at once, and dive down-stream, Dale!” he cried, and without a moment's pause they both tumbled in, anyhow, and struck out with all their strength down-stream.

CHAPTER XIII

The German Counter-stroke

The fury of the German military governor and his staff at the destruction of the largest workshop in the Durend concern could hardly have been greater had the town under their charge successfully revolted.

For the fifth time at least the Durend works--which the Germans had looked upon as peculiarly their own--had been the scene of successful blows against their authority. These exploits were too extensive and too public to be hidden, and the Walloon workmen of Liege--never a docile race--had been progressively encouraged to commit similar acts elsewhere, or to resist pa.s.sively the pressure of their German taskmasters.

In the view of the German governor it was imperative that a blow, and a stunning one, should be struck at this tendency among the Liege workmen.

Had the authors of this latest outrage been captured, an example would have been easy. Unfortunately, they had again escaped, and in a manner so impudent and daring that the exasperation of the Germans was greatly intensified. Rewards had been offered before and had proved fruitless.

On this occasion the governor resolved to sweep aside what he termed trifles, and to use firmly and pitilessly a weapon of terror already in his hands.

The Durend yards had been entirely closed the moment intelligence had reached M. Schenk that suspicious persons had broken into one of the idle workshops. After the fire all workmen found within the yard had been closely examined, and those definitely known to have Belgian sympathies placed under arrest. These men numbered thirty-nine, and it was by using them as hostages that the German governor intended to strike terror into the hearts of the Walloons. They were hurried before a military court, briefly examined, and found guilty of conspiring against the German military occupation. Sentence of death followed as a matter of course.

Max and Dale had reached their lodging without any particular difficulty, after again taking refuge in the waters of the Meuse. They were tired out with their all-night exploit, and, removing their wet garments, tumbled heavily into bed. It was thus late in the afternoon before they heard from the landlord of their house the news that the German governor intended to execute all the Belgian workmen caught within the precincts of the Durend yards. Even then they could hardly bring themselves to believe it.

”It's too rascally even for the Germans, Max,” declared Dale at last.

”It's probably only a threat to force one of them to give away his fellows.”

”Maybe, Dale, but I know enough of the Germans to believe that if they don't succeed they will not hesitate to carry out the sentence.”

”The cold-blooded murderers!” cried Dale hotly.

”Yes,” replied Max in a strained voice, as he began to pace slowly up and down the length of their room. ”Yes, they are; but shall not we have really had a hand in their deaths?”

”Not one jot,” cried Dale emphatically. ”No particle of blame can be laid at our door if they are foully done to death.”

”Had we not so hara.s.sed the Germans, these men would not be under sentence of death,” Max went on, half to himself. ”It seems hard that they must die for our success.”

”Bah! They die for Belgium and to proclaim to the world that the Germans must be crushed,” cried Dale contemptuously. ”No, Max, we have nothing to reproach ourselves with in this business.”

”No, but still----” Then, rousing himself with an effort, Max went on: ”But we need not worry ourselves yet. Will you go into the streets and find out anything else you can? I am going to find Dubec, and we will then see if aught can be done.”

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