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CHAPTER XI.
THE MAN IN THE LOCKER

“Are you joking, Frank?” asked Billy, though he should have known his comrade better than to believe Frank would try to play any silly trick for the sake of giving them a thrill.

Pudge opened his mouth, but for a wonder even one of his queer favorite expressions failed to drop from his lips. In fact, Pudge was rendered temporarily speechless by the astounding nature of Frank’s communication.

“Not at all, Billy,” said the other, trying to act as though he might be telling them something of small importance. “I watched while I was sheltered under the plane, and twice I saw it shake a little as though some one might be holding the door ajar so as to hear better.”

“Door!” echoed Billy helplessly, as though more puzzled than ever.

“The door of the empty locker we thought we might need for storing things away, but which has never been used,” Frank explained.

“Gee whillikins! now I understand what you mean, Frank,” said Billy. “There is plenty of room in that locker to hold a man curled up.”

“Popguns and pyramids, but how could he ever get there when we’ve been sitting around all morning?” asked Pudge, in a hoarse whisper.

“Only in one way,” Frank told him. “Before they left here last night they must have fixed him there in the locker, believing we’d be back again sooner or later, when some information of value might be picked up.”

“Oh! my stars, Frank,” Billy ejaculated huskily. “What if, after all, he’s heard enough talk here to guess about that big raid?”

Frank looked very serious.

“It’s true that we’ve been pretty careful,” he said, “and most of the time just whispered while we talked about it; but all the same a man with the ears of a spy might have picked up enough to arouse suspicions, and once that’s done the rest would come easy.”

“What can we do about it, Frank?” asked Billy.

“Our good friend, the Major, has extended the invitation to us so that in a way I feel we’re responsible for the secret being kept,” Frank went on to say, as though he might be revolving certain conditions in his mind before deciding.

On hearing him say that Billy began to work the muscles of his right arm, at the same time opening and closing his fingers, as though eager to clutch something.

“I agree with you, Frank,” he hastened to say. “The great secret has been placed in our keeping, and for one I would feel pretty small if it leaked out through any fault of ours. We’ve got to cage that spy as sure as you live.”

“Punkins and partridges, that’s right!” muttered Pudge, who, while not as a rule pugnaciously inclined, could nevertheless assume what he was pleased to call his “fighting face” when occasion arose.

“I’m glad to find both of you are of the same mind,” Frank said. “The only question is to decide what our plan of campaign shall be.”

“P’r’aps some of those Tommies in khaki would be only too glad of a chance to step in and collar the spy?” suggested Pudge.

“But there are three of us here,” objected Billy, “and I don’t see why we should want to call on the soldiers for such a little thing. After we’ve grabbed Mr. Spy and have got him tied up it will be time enough to figure on handing him over to the authorities.”

“That’s what’s worrying me,” admitted Frank.

“About handing him over, do you mean?” Billy demanded.

“Well, you know what the fate of a spy always is,” the other said. “We are supposed to be neutral in this war business. No matter whether our sympathy lies with Belgium, Germany, or France, we’ve got to try and treat them as much alike as we can. Our company has been negotiating with the French Government for a long time, now, over this contract, and so, of course, we have to favor them if anybody; but boys, not one of us would like to feel that we were the cause of a spy being shot or hanged.”

“Oh well, we could kick him off the place after we got him out, Frank,” suggested Pudge so aggressively that Billy chuckled, and started to smooth the fat chum down the back, just as one might a pugnacious rooster who was boiling with a desire to plunge into carnage.

“That sounds all right,” Frank told him; “but you forget the one important thing. He has some knowledge of this raid, and if we let him go it may mean a great disaster to the fleet of seaplanes taking part in the dash up the coast.”

“Whew! looks like we might be what my father would say was between the upper and the nether millstones,” remarked Billy.

“Gatling guns and grasshoppers,” Pudge added, “my father would go further than that, I guess, and say we were between the devil and the deep sea. But Frank, you’re the one to decide that question. What shall we do?”

“There is a way,” Frank announced, “by which we could settle it so the man wouldn’t fall into the hands of the military authorities, who would execute him, and at the same time he could be kept from betraying what he may have learned.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Pudge; “because I don’t want to know I’ve been instrumental in standing a poor fellow up before a file, and getting him filled with cold lead. Tell us about it, please, Frank.”

“After we’ve captured the man we’ll get word to the civil authorities, saying we’ve caught a thief in our hangar, and asking them to keep him safe for two or three days. I’ll go and see the Major myself, and get him to promise that the man will be treated only as a thief and not as a spy.”

“You’ve guessed the answer, Frank,” announced Pudge, with the enthusiasm he always showed when the leader of the aviator boys blazed a trail out of some wilderness in which they had lost themselves.

“Then the sooner we get busy the better,” hinted Billy, again working that good right arm of his as though it might be rapidly getting beyond his restraint.

“We have no firearms, though,” suggested Pudge.

“There’s no need of any,” Frank told him. “I’ll hold this wrench in a way that’ll make it seem like a six-shooter. The rest of you can help pile on the man when we drag him out of the locker, either feet or head first, it doesn’t matter which.”

“Just give me a chance to sit on him, that’s all!” threatened Pudge, at which Billy could be heard to chuckle, as though he pitied anyone who went through that far from enviable experience; perhaps Billy knew from his own associations with Pudge what such an operation meant.

“Now, here’s the way we’ll fix it,” began Frank. “I’ll step over again to the other side of the hangar to work at the motors of the Sea Eagle. Pretty soon you’ll hear me calling to you both to come around and see what a clever little arrangement I’ve fixed up.”

“Which will, in other words, mean the fun is about to begin?” commented Billy.

“When you join me,” continued Frank, “we’ll jabber for a minute, during which I’ll say we might as well go to town and get something decent to eat at noon. That will be apt to put him off his guard. Then we’ll all tiptoe over to the locker, and at a signal throw the door open. As soon as you glimpse him, take hold, and start to pulling like a house afire. That will keep him from trying to fight back or use his weapon, for I guess he’ll have a gun of some kind. Understand it all, boys?”

“Go on, Frank. Please don’t wait any longer than you have to,” pleaded Billy.

So Frank, a minute or two later, called to them to come and see what a splendid little change he had made in the gear of the deflecting rudder of the big seaplane.

It was a thrilling moment for the three boys when they began to move in the direction of the locker where Frank believed a spy had taken refuge many hours previously. As he had suggested, they walked on their tiptoes, each fastening his eager gaze upon the door which they expected to presently pull suddenly open.

When they had taken up their positions according to Frank’s plan, he gave the expected signal.

“Now, everybody!”

The locker door was dragged open in spite of the fact that something seemed to be clinging desperately to it from the inside. No sooner had this been accomplished than the boys, stooping, seized hold of the doubled-up figure they could see in the cavity under the bench, and started to drag with might and main.

Although the man in hiding made a powerful effort to resist the pressure brought to bear upon him, he was hardly in a position to do much.

They dragged him out, squirming like a rat taken by the tail, and trying to hold on to every object, however small, as a drowning man will catch at a straw. No sooner was he in full view than Pudge dropped down on his back with all his force.

A dismal groan announced that the breath had been pretty well driven from the spy’s lungs; and before he could recover his wits enough to try and produce any weapon Frank clapped the end of his wrench against his temple while he called out in very commanding tones:

“Don’t try to draw a gun or you are a dead man! I’ve got you covered, and will pull the trigger if you so much as move a hand!”

Having in this manner caused the prisoner to behave, Frank hastily searched his pockets and confiscated a stubby little revolver which he found there. Then he told Billy to tie the man’s wrists together, placing them behind his back, with a stout piece of tarred rope that lay within convenient reaching distance.

“Now he’s helpless, and we can let him get to his feet if we want,” said Billy; but Frank thought otherwise.

“It’s better to be on the safe side,” he observed. “So use the balance of the rope around his ankles, Billy. I want to leave you two here while I go to town and make arrangements through Major Nixon to have the man held simply as a thief and not as a spy. I’d like to know he couldn’t get away.”

They found that he was rather a small man, with a cunning face. He did not look very much like a German, and possibly had been picked out for his hazardous pursuit on that very account.

To their surprise he addressed them in the best of English.

“I am an American citizen, you must know, and I have the papers to prove it. My name is Hans Larsen and I came from Sweden many years ago.”

“Oh! is that so?” remarked Frank, who had lately read that many Germans across the sea had been able to secure the naturalization papers belonging to others in order to cross to Sweden or Italy without being taken prisoner by the English naval men, and Frank rightly guessed the spy had fortified himself in that way so as to have some means for escaping death in case of capture.

“Then what were you doing hidden in that locker?” demanded Billy.

“I have no money, and I was hungry,” said the man. “I came here to pick up something I could sell for a few sous, and get some bread. Then I heard voices and afraid to be seen I crawled under there. Let me go and I shall never bother you again.”

Billy laughed in his face.

“They say a lame excuse is better than none,” he remarked, “but when Frank pulled that fierce-looking gun out of your pocket I saw a bright coin fall to the floor. Here it is, and a gold coin in the bargain. An English sovereign at that. I wonder why anyone should go hungry long in Dunkirk these days with all that money in his pocket? Don’t try to trick us, my man. We know why you were hidden in that locker, and you don’t need to be told what a spy can expect when caught in the act.”

The man shut his teeth hard together, and gave a little groan, but said nothing. He evidently expected that the fate he may have dared so often had at last found him out.

CHAPTER XII.
FRANK MAKES A BARGAIN

“What’s the next thing on the program, Frank?” asked Billy.

“I must go to town and see Major Nixon,” came the prompt reply.

“You mean so as to hand this prisoner over to his charge, don’t you?”

“I want to get in touch with the civil authorities, and make certain arrangements looking to his detention for several days,” explained Frank.

The spy started and looked eagerly at the speaker. His dry lips moved as though he were trying to voice the sudden hope that had flashed through his brain; but no sound followed. Still it could be seen that his despair was not as complete as before.

“But Frank,” interrupted Pudge, “perhaps it won’t be necessary for you to skip out and leave.”

“Tell me what you mean, Pudge?” Frank asked him.

“Use the telephone, and talk with the Major. Yes, it was knocked out of commission by those smarties, but while you were away this morning, having nothing else to do, I amused myself hunting for the break in the wire, which I found and easily spliced.”

“Does it work all right now, Pudge?” questioned Billy, grinning at the thought of the other doing all that climbing, because action of this sort was hardly the forte of their stout chum.

“As good as ever, for I tested it,” he was told.

Frank, however, shook his head in the negative.

“I think I had better go personally and see the Major,” he told them.

“How’s that, Frank?” remarked Billy quickly. “Do you suspect that in some way those men may have tapped our wire?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past them,” came the reply. “Spies have to be up to all sorts of clever dodges, and that would be just in line with their work.”

Billy gave a whistle to indicate the state of his mixed feelings.

“Gee whillikins, to think that we haven’t whispered a single sentence along that wire but what some outsider was drinking it in! Frank, I guess you’re right, and that in a particular case like this it’s best to deal at first hand with Major Nixon.”

“I’m sure of that, boys,” the leader told them in his quiet, convincing way.

“And I suppose that you want us to stick by the hangar while you’re away; is that the game, Frank?” Pudge wanted to know.

“Yes, and be mighty careful how you take your eyes off the prisoner for even a minute,” Frank directed. “I’m going to look all around the place before I leave, so as to make sure there isn’t another spy hidden away in some corner. As soon as I step out, fasten the door and keep it so. I may call you up over the wire, and if I do you’ll know my voice. Besides, to make absolutely sure I’ll give you our old signal. That’s about all.”

He bustled around for several minutes, and thoroughly explored the whole interior of the hangar. When Frank had finished his task he was absolutely sure that no intruder larger than a mouse could have escaped his search.

Once outside he made for the gate, where he found a couple of rosy-cheeked British khaki-clad Tommies on guard, with whom he exchanged pleasant greetings.

“Don’t let a single soul get past here until I come back again,” he told them. “I’m going to see Major Nixon, who is a personal friend of mine, and my business with him is very important. We’ve caught a – well, a thief in the hangar, and I want him to take charge of the rascal. If you hear any row in there while I’m gone have some of your men go up to the door; but keep the gate guarded meanwhile.”

The two soldiers promised that they would attend strictly to business. They knew something of what these young American boys were doing over in France, and that their presence had to do with the closing of certain arrangements with the French Government that had been under way before the breaking out of the war.

Frank walked off.

He was feeling very well satisfied with the way things were coming out. It was true there might be some cause for uneasiness in connection with the determined efforts of the spies to either steal or ruin the machine; but Frank believed he and his chums, assisted by the Allies, could keep it from being destroyed through a bomb placed under the hangar by a secret agent of the Kaiser.

One could not go very far in the neighborhood of Dunkirk in those stirring days without being visibly reminded that it was a time of war. Soldiers in detachments were moving this way or that; tents could be seen in the fields; artillery was passing along the heavy roads bound for the front, where the British army in the low country along the Yser Canal must be getting ready for that long-heralded drive that was to usher in the new policy of aggression in the early Spring.

Everywhere he looked Frank could see signs of this feverish life. How different things were across the ocean in his own beloved land; and how thankful he was that peace lay upon the great country of which he was a son.

He knew where he was likely to find Major Nixon, for he had been to see him at his quarters before now. As he walked quickly along with a springy step, Frank was laying out his plan of campaign. It was like him to prepare for possibilities, because he was determined that, as far as he could prevent it, he and his chums would not take sides in this terrible struggle for supremacy, any more than could be prevented.

Coming to the building in which the British had their Headquarters he was stopped by a sentry who demanded his business.

“I must see Major Nixon on very important business,” Frank told him. “I hope he is in his quarters, for I wish to send my card with a line on it to him.”

Of course all that the sentry could do was to summon a noncommissioned officer, to whom Frank repeated his request. It happened that the sergeant had seen Frank walking arm in arm with the Major, and hence knew that they were friends.

“He is very busy just now, and gave word that he was not to be disturbed except on most important business,” the sergeant informed him.

“This is a matter,” the boy told him impressively, “that concerns grave issues connected with the plans of your leaders, and I hope you will see that the Major gets my card.”

“I will carry it to him myself,” announced the sergeant, which he accordingly did, and soon came back nodding his head.

The few urgent words written on the card had the desired effect, for the sergeant immediately asked Frank to follow him.

“Major Nixon told me to say that he would see you, sir,” was the message he gave the boy.

Presently Frank entered the soldier’s room. He found the Major impatiently awaiting his coming, and with an extended hand in the bargain.

“My word! but you’ve given me a beastly shock by what you write,” he was saying as he shook hands. “‘Plans threatened with disaster – must see you at once!’ Now be good enough to tell me what it all means, for I’m shivering with dread. If anything happened to upset all those splendidly arranged plans for the raid, we’d be broken-hearted, you know.”

“Before I say a single word, Major Nixon, I want you to give me your promise to agree to a certain stipulation I shall make. It simply concerns a man’s life; and will not interfere the least bit with your ideas of military rules.”

“That’s a singular request to make, Frank, but I think I know you well enough to feel sure you will not bind me to anything that would touch upon my honor. I promise you then that you shall have your way; for I imagine you want to have the disposal of this unknown man in your own hands.”

“That is just what I want, Major,” returned the other quickly. “And now listen while I tell you of a remarkable thing that happened after you left us this morning.”

“At your hangar, do you mean?” asked the soldier, looking startled.

“Yes.”

“I hope you don’t intend to tell me any of our men have proven false to their trust and betrayed you, Frank; because I happen to know that the aviator corps expects great things of that invention of Dr. Perkins’, should it eventually become the property of the French Government.”

“There has been no traitor in the camp, Major,” the other hastened to assure him. “But nevertheless we have learned that all the while you were there talking to us, and while we have been discussing the intended raid in low tones among ourselves, there was a spy concealed in the hangar who must have heard more or less of what was said, despite our precautions.”

The soldier jumped to his feet. He looked almost frightened as he stared into the face of Frank Chester.

“You are sure of what you say, are you, Frank?” he asked with an effort.

“Oh! there isn’t the slightest doubt about it,” came the reply.

Then Major Nixon began to breathe easier. He saw that Frank was smiling, and his common sense told him the boy would not be likely to show such freedom from anxiety if things were as bad as he had at first feared.

“Frank, tell me the rest without delay. I know you’ve got good news back of this astonishing disclosure. Where is that spy now?”

“In the hangar still,” replied Frank.

“Did you take him prisoner?” demanded the Major eagerly.

“Yes, and I’ll tell you how it was done, sir. We had quite a little circus for a short time, believe me.”

Major Nixon listened, and as he heard how Pudge sat down upon the surprised eavesdropper whom they had dragged from the locker, he even smiled, for that terrible fear had by now left his soul.

“My word! what great luck that you caught him before he could send any sort of signal to his companions!” he exclaimed. “And we must see to it that he does not have a chance to even wink an eye toward anyone. It would have ruined everything if he had slipped away. I am a thousand times obliged to you, Frank, for being so much on the alert. It would have ruined my own career if the break had been traced back and placed on my shoulders. We will see to it that this spy gets all that is coming to him.”

“Oh! but you forget your promise, Major Nixon!” remarked the boy coolly.

The soldier looked at him and frowned.

“But Frank, a spy is a dangerous sort of reptile, no matter on which side he is working,” he objected. “These Germans have the most complete system of secret espionage ever known. It is hard to keep anything from their knowledge. This man knew the risk when he hid there in your hangar. He should pay the penalty of his venture. He can expect nothing less than death.”

“Wait, Major Nixon; please remember that he is my prisoner, not yours. If I had spoken the word he could have been set free. You gave me your solemn promise that I should have the say of his fate if I handed him over to the authorities.”

The soldier pondered these words for a minute before continuing.

“Tell me just what you’ve got in your mind, my boy,” he said, “and I feel certain that I can agree to it, because I know how sensible you are.”

“Then listen, sir,” said Frank impressively. “We three are Americans, and while we may sympathize with the Allies in this struggle at the same time we do not hate the German people, but feel the warmest friendship for them. We would not care to remember that we had turned over this spy to the military authorities to be shot. It would grieve us more than I can tell you, sir.”

“But you have a plan, Frank, of course?” ventured the other.

“Yes.”

“Which, it is to be hoped, will protect our great secret?”

“Here is what I want you to agree to, sir,” Frank told him. “We will turn this man over to the civil authorities of Dunkirk to be considered solely in the light of a sneak thief who meant to steal something from our hangar and dispose of it so as to buy food. He has papers to show that he is by birth a Swede, but an American citizen by adoption.”

“Ah! yes, but those have undoubtedly been stolen, and are being used for a purpose anyone can understand,” declared the soldier.

“Yes, that is what we believed, sir,” said Frank. “At the same time if he were shot it might raise an unpleasant tension between my Government and the Allies. As I look at it, the main thing you want to do is to so arrange it that this spy can in no manner communicate with any of his fellows. Am I right there, Major?”

“Yes, yes; that is the principal thing we must consider now, Frank.”

“All right, that can be done just as well if he is shut up as a thief, and at the end of three days, after the raid is a thing of the past, allowed to take his departure from Dunkirk with a warning that if caught again he will pay the penalty with his life.”

Again the soldier pondered. He did not like to let the spy off so easily, for like most bluff fighting men, Major Nixon felt an aversion for those clever secret agents who could block the plans of generals through securing information in advance.

Finally he gave a sigh and smiled at Frank.

“My word! but you know how to handle matters, Frank,” he observed. “Of course I can see just how you and your fine chums must feel about this thing; and on the whole I do not blame you. Yes, I give you my promise again that it will be done as you say. We will take the man to a place of security where he cannot find a chance to communicate with his kind in any possible way. He will be known simply as a suspected thief on the records. And after the raid is over with, I myself will see that he is led to the outskirts of the town, and let go with a warning. Is that sufficient, Frank?”

“Yes, sir, for I know your word is as good as your bond,” Frank told him. “I feel I have done my duty without being instrumental in sacrificing a life.”

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02 mayıs 2017
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200 s. 1 illüstrasyon
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