The Red Signal (Grace Livingston Hill Book) (9 page)

Schwarz worked for a few minutes over the box, which sputtered and sizzled with blue lights, then he wrote something down carefully, painstakingly, by the light of a pocket flash. Hilda, in her cramped position, wondered if he would stay there all the afternoon and what she should do when the pain in her limbs became unbearable. Suddenly her jailer went over to the telephone and began to talk, calling a number. She wished afterwards she had tried to remember it. Almost immediately he got his man and began to talk in English:

“I tont findt dot baper! I ton't peleef you leafe it mit me ad all! But I juist gotta message from sea. Dey vill nod land till midnight, so you vil haf blenty time to sent it to me again! Vat? You vill gif it to me now? Sure! I kund wride it down, but you say it vas nod safe? All ride! Go ahead! Rebingdon, Eddystone----"

Hilda's flesh grew cold with horror as she recognized one after another the words written on the paper that lay next her heart! She had a quick flash of realization of what she had done. She was mixed up hopelessly, inextricably, in an infernal machine! It was unthinkable what might her fate not be if she were discovered. She shut her eyes and tried not to think. How many more eternities was that man going to stay down there and keep her a prisoner? And what should she do when he left? Where were the men? Down in the field? How could she get out of the window without being seen by them? She must take her chances. If they were working in sight of the back of the barn there would be nothing for it but to stay where she was until night, or perhaps she might risk dropping down the ladder quickly and taking her chances of running away before they could catch her. It was all horrible any way she thought of it. And even if she managed to get out of the barn unseen and back to the kitchen what excuse could she possibly make to Mrs. Schwarz for having been away so long? Where could she say she had been? If she only had some money and could take a train back to some of her friends, they would know how to protect her, but these terrible people would pursue her to the ends of the earth, perhaps, and have their revenge if they caught her!

The minutes lengthened out interminably before Schwarz finally completed his telephoning and went out of the barn, slamming the door shut with a click of the night latch behind him. Hilda waited breathlessly till she heard him go up the path toward the house, cross the piazza, and go on down the path toward the station. Then she drew a long breath and pushing the hay back from her face arose to a standing position, trying to get her cramped limbs limbered up for the cautious work they had before them.

 A small, thin ray of sunshine slashed through a crack and fell across her feet throwing into relief the spot where she had been lying, and suddenly the girl knew what it was that had been hidden under the hay against which she had been leaning. Guns, they were, dark and sinister, with their ugly barrels pointed right at her, bristling through the hay like an enemy encamped in ambush!

Hilda caught her breath in horror, remembering what she had heard the night visitor say. Then, stooping down, she swept the hay back with a wide, swift gesture and disclosed great stacks of them. They must be stored all over the loft under the hay. She stretched out her hand as far as she could reach, and came against the same hard barriers with only a thin coating of hay over them. There must be hundreds of them! Enough for a regiment! And the man had said they were stored in other places, too! Perhaps the whole country was full of secret places in which were arms ready for an uprising! Perhaps it was true what the papers had been saying, and people had been repeating half in derision, that the Germans really meant to conquer and rule this country—this wonderful, beautiful, free America! How terrible! To have men like Schwarz and the aeroplane man allowed to do with everybody, as they pleased. Why, death would be sweet in comparison to a life under such conditions! And all this was really going on and nobody believed it! America was giving freedom and plenty to the Germans within its borders as much as to any other men, and they were abusing the freedom this way! Somebody ought to tell! Somebody must! And perhaps nobody knew anything about it but herself. Just one little ignorant frightened girl, who had never been anywhere in the world and knew very little about things. What could she do? How could she explain so that they would believe it, and not laugh the way her teachers in Chicago had laughed at the idea of spies being in this country? She must try and listen and get some evidence to show. Perhaps the paper she had—but how would that tell the Government any more than it told her? She must find a way to get hold of sonic papers, or letters. The thought was revolting, for her mother had always brought her up to let other people's things alone, but the country was at stake, and was she not a loyal American? She must be a spy herself, if it came to that, and find out what these traitors to their country were doing. To that end, if possible, she must make her way at once back into the Schwarz kitchen and wash those dishes, making the best story for Mrs. Schwarz that she could.

She must go at once and work hard and well so that they would approve of her and not suspect her of being a spy against them.

 With renewed vigor she turned to the window and put her hands on the ledge to climb out. Then suddenly she heard voices and saw that three of the men were standing in the cabbage patch behind the barn in full view of the window, talking excitedly, and that Schwarz himself, shouting angrily to them, was walking up the path between the cabbages back to the barn. He must have come back by the lower plowed field instead of going to the station.

Trembling with fear, her cold fingers let go their hold on the window ledge, and she dropped instantly into a silent heap of honor back into the hay. Had they seen her? Had Schwarz seen her, and was he perhaps coming back to torture her? She remembered all the awful tales of cruelty and wrong that had been told of the Germans over in Belgium as she crouched in the hay, and listened with senses painfully alert to Schwarz's angry voice, trying to measure how long it would be before he reached the barn.

Then, suddenly, in the midst of her trouble the telephone set up a dull, insistent, violent whirr that almost seemed like a human voice lurking below her, and made her heart stand still with fright!

MEANTIME, while Hilda lay trembling in the hay, several things were happening at the Junction.

 Dan Stevens, with his eyes a little brighter than usual—which is saying a great deal, for they were unusually bright, keen eyes—hung up the receiver and handed the 'phone over to the station agent:

“Call up dad for me, will you, Sandy, while I get that train dispatcher!” He put his face close to the grated window, laid two of his fingers to his lips and sent forth a whistle that rivalled his signals at Platt's Crossing.

“Oh, I say! Baker! Where's the train dispatcher? Tell him he's got to hold the train till I get this message through!”

 Then he swung back to the desk:

 “Got dad? Well, connect me with the other 'phone, then I won't bother you,” and he vanished into the little booth at the other side of the room. “That fellow takes on a great many airs for an engineer, I should say!” remarked a traveller at the ticket window as he received his belated change from the ticket agent. “Perhaps you'd like to call up my grandmother for me?”

 The agent eyed the stranger scornfully.

“Nobody has a better right,” he remarked with a withering glance. “His father's the president of the road!” Then he turned with a grim smile and enjoyed the chagrin on the face of the stranger.

Three minutes later the young engineer burst forth from the telephone booth with a smile on his firm lips and a light of battle in his eyes. A word with the train dispatcher, and he swung up into his cab, opened the throttle and set No. 5 booming down the track.

A stubby little man with a face like a purple turnip, and small, curious eyes, watched from his station behind a pile of milk cans and then hurried across the road to a little cigar store where was a telephone. He put his head in at the door and spoke in a cunning whisper:

 “You c’n tell ’em she's went!” he remarked laconically, and then with an air of having completed an arduous task he lounged over to the saloon and refreshed himself.

Three minutes later one of the oldest and most trusted engineers on the road, who had just come in from his regular run and was looking forward to a few hours at his home, received a rush order to take his engine to a certain siding ten miles above the Junction and wait for No. 5.

About the same time, from a city twenty miles beyond Platt's Crossing a group of men, several of them belonging to the Secret Service, tumbled hurriedly on a special train, with every track cleared ahead of them, and sped as fast as steam could carry them toward the bridge that spanned the stream at Platt's Crossing.

No sound of whistle went ahead to warn of their coming as they approached the bridge. The engine slowing down, came to a halt in the woods. They had their orders not to alarm the people of the region nor to startle any lurkers and put them on their guard.

Silently the little company swarmed from the special and melted into the woods, coming by devious ways through the underbrush, each one in his own appointed spot, to search the bridge and the track in either direction.

When No. 5 reached the lonely siding where the trusted engineer waited, it was the work of but a few minutes to juggle around some empty box cars that stood on the side track, and presently No. 5 thundered complacently on its way to Platt's Crossing, making up time while the most trusted engineer rumbled off on a detour toward the coast with a string of innocent-looking cars racketing be-hind him and smiling grimly as he thought of home and bed and the rest he would have taken if it had not been for that special order; but he looked back at his train now and then as it followed him round a curve, and there was a complacent triumph in his eye despite the lost rest.

It was just half an hour since she entered the barn, if Hilda had only known it, till the 'phone rang, and startled her into a frightened heap in the hay again. Then, as she sank down, her senses seemed to come awake.

Schwarz had not locked that door with a key when he went out of the barn! It must, have locked itself automatically with a night latch when he closed the door! Why couldn't she then open it from the inside? Why couldn't she get out now, quickly, before he came? There might not he another chance for hours.

She started up, peered cautiously out from the window, saw that Schwarz was still shouting at the men as he backed toward the barn; and then she dived down the ladder, groping her way to the door. There was one heart-throbbing minute when she fumbled for the little knob of the latch, turned it and found that the door yielded; then a glad whiff of fresh air in her face as she held her breath and peered listening through a crack. Outside at last in the blessed sunshine with the click of the softly closed latch in her ears, and the sound of Schwarz's approaching footsteps! She scarcely dared look around, lest she should see someone.

Like the wind, she flew up the path and in the door out of sight, with the thought of Schwarz behind her and the vision of his angry frown before, trying to think what excuse she could give for her absence, and resolving to brazen any questions out by saying she was tired and wanted to get away from the kitchen for a few minutes.

 It was like a miracle that she escaped detection. Afterward she used to lie awake at night and live it over again instead of sleeping—that swift rush front the barn to the kitchen! A second more and she would have been caught. Schwarz rounded the corner of the barn and came tramping up the path as she vanished behind the kitchen door and. rushed over to the stove to fix up the fire. Always, too, it was a wonder to her that the kitchen had been empty. No one in the dining-room, either! She had expected Mrs. Schwarz to be in a. towering rage, but the house seemed unusually silent. Later, when Mrs. Schwarz came downstairs there were heavy dark sags under her small blue eyes, and the end of her nose was swollen and red. Mrs. Schwarz had been weeping opportunely.

Hilda rushed from kitchen to dining-room with superhuman speed, carrying great piles of plates, knives, forks and cups. There seemed to be special skill granted her to perform the clearing of that table at lightning speed; and all the while her heart was beating furiously at the ominous silence that prevailed in the house.

 She glanced at the clock! It was quarter to two. She had been in the barn more than half an hour! At this time of day her dishes ought to have been washed and she at other tasks. To be sure, the mid-day meal had been delayed by the lateness of the men, but she was sure there would be a tremendous tongue-lashing ready for her if Mrs. Schwarz should come downstairs and discover how far behind she was in her work.

 She washed away frantically, sometimes just catching a slippery plate or cup from falling in her haste. She heard the barn door close on Schwarz, and heard the faint sound of the buzzer ring again, now that her ears were quickened by her knowledge of the place.

 Schwarz came out of the barn twice and gazed off at the bridge with a pair of field glasses, and then went back into the barn.

As the dishes were gradually marshalled into order and Hilda's anxiety about her own position became less, she began to wonder about the young engineer and what he would do? Would they be able to find the powder? Supposing they didn't? Supposing there had been some mistake about it after all and his train had not been threatened? What would he think of her? What would happen to her? Would she be arrested for telling such tales? But there couldn't have been any mistake! She surely had heard it all! And then she went carefully over in her mind all that had happened, even down to the remarks of the men at the dinner table. As the clock hands neared two she began to grow more and more uneasy. What if, after she had hung up, the young man began to think it was all nonsense and decided to run his train over the bridge anyway! What if they wouldn't let him stop it! What if -- oh, a hundred dreadful possibilities! If she only knew more about railroads and their habits. What was she to presume to stop a great train and save a big bridge!