A CLOTH WAS CLAPPED OVER THE SOLDIER'S NOSE AND MOUTH
Noiselessly grounding the captured rifle, Max in his turn sprang upon the sentry and wound both his arms about him, crushing his arms to his side and preparing to subdue his wildest struggles. Almost immediately, however, the man's muscles relaxed, as the chloroform, with which the cloth had been sprinkled, took effect, and Max and Dale lowered him to the ground.
"Now, Dale, off with his tunic and helmet and put them on," cried Max rapidly. "Then take his rifle and stand on guard. All is well, and I believe we shall win through without a hitch."
Dale did as he was bidden. The soldier's tunic and helmet were removed, and his body was dragged into the shadow close to the wall of the building. Then Max walked quickly back to the spot where the shells had been deposited. Here Dubec crouched in readiness.
"Bring them along," whispered Max. "The sentry is disposed of, and we ought to meet with no interruption."
"'Twas splendidly done," replied Dubec with enthusiasm. "The man seemed to be overcome as though by magic, and I heard scarce a sound."
In three trips the shells were transported to the power-house and laid along the wall. Then Max went to one of the windows and looked in.
The power-house was largely underground, and the windows, which ran around all sides on a level with the ground at intervals of about six feet, were high above the great boilers. In fact, as Max gazed down he had a bird's-eye view of the interior, and could see workmen flitting to and fro, stoking the great furnaces in blissful ignorance of the fact that a bolt which might destroy them with their engines was on the point of being shot.
Drawing back his head, Max drew a bomb of his own manufacture from his pocket and lit the fuse. Then he leaned through the window, and, shading his mouth with his hands so that his words might carry downwards and be heard above the roar of the engines, cried in quick, urgent, warning tones:
"Fly for your lives—the engine-house is being blown up! Fly! fly! fly!"
The workmen looked up, startled, and into their midst Max flung his bomb. The men scattered to right and left, and a second or two later it burst with a splutter, sending out a great puff of white, pungent smoke. It was quite harmless, but the men did not know that, and a great cry of alarm went up and a terrific stampede began towards the nearest exit.
"Now, Dubec," cried Max energetically, "light the fuses and fling them in. It matters little where they fall so long as we cover a wide area."
In a few seconds the shells had been flung down into the power-house, right in among the boilers and machinery. Then the two men took to their heels and fled, followed by Dale, who had already divested himself of his borrowed plumes and donned his own.
The success of their enterprise was complete. Hardly had they got clear of the building before a series of heavy explosions occurred in the interior of the power-house, followed by the upward burst of great clouds of smoke and steam. Instantly all the lights in the whole of the Durend workshops and the great lights in the yard went out, and the roar of machinery slackened and gradually ceased. The entire works were at a standstill, and the whirr of lathes and clink of hammers were succeeded by shouts of alarm from the thousands of workmen as they poured excitedly out into the open air.
The alarm and excitement were not decreased when, almost immediately, there was a great outburst of flame in one of the large workshops devoted to the building of the bodies of railway carriages and trucks, and the chassis of motorcars. With extraordinary rapidity the flames leapt up from floor to floor, until the great yards in the vicinity, a moment before plunged in blackness by the destruction of the electric-light plant, were again as light as day.
"See that, Max?" whispered Dale in an awestruck voice as the flames leaped up. "Surely our raid on the power-house cannot have done that?"
"I expect that something was upset in the mad rush for the doors. The place is full of inflammables, and they will never get the fire out—you see."
The scene was of absorbing interest, and Max and Dale and the faithful Dubec mingled with the crowds of excited workmen and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Alarm-bells were sounding and bugle-calls ringing in all directions, and in a few minutes two or three engines dashed into the yard and began a hopeless fight against the raging fire. Max and his friends continued to gaze on at the exciting scene until the former was recalled to himself by the heavy tramp of what seemed to be detachments of soldiers outside the walls of the yard.
"Listen, Dale, I can hear a lot of troops marching outside. I don't think their presence bodes any good, and I think we had better be off. The Germans will be most awfully savage, and will be firing on the mob, or something of the sort."
"Shouldn't wonder, old man. Well, we've done enough for one night, so let us join this crowd and leave by the main entrance."
A number of workmen, who were probably of the same mind as Max and did not like the look of things, were moving towards the gates, and to these our three friends joined themselves. On reaching the gates, however, the whole party came to a standstill. The gates were closed, and a dozen soldiers with fixed bayonets stood on guard in front of them.
"We made a mistake, Dale, in not getting away at once," whispered Max. "We shall have trouble now, you may be sure."
As he spoke, the gates were opened and a motorcar drove through. It contained the manager, M. Schenk, and two officers, and came to a stand on the outskirts of the crowd collected at the gates. The manager immediately stood up in the car and addressed the crowd in such stern and peremptory tones that it would have seemed fitter, Max thought, had the words been uttered by one of the officers at his side.
"Listen, men. A dastardly outrage has just been committed in these works, and I am determined to bring the guilty ones to justice. I shall allow no one to leave until he has been thoroughly examined, however long it may take. Stand aside, therefore, and await your call quietly, or I shall have recourse to sterner measures."
The car moved on, and the workmen addressed stopped obediently where they were and began discussing the affair in low, excited tones.
"This sort of thing won't suit us, Dale," whispered Max, as he edged out of the crowd and began moving away from the gates. "Examinations are not a strong point with us at present."
"No, we require to study a little more—in strict seclusion," replied Dale in the same spirit, as they got away from the crowd into the blackness between a long workshop at a distance from the burning building and the outer walls.
"Where now, Master," asked Dubec, looking at Max enquiringly as the three came to an involuntary halt.
"Over the walls and away, I think. We have done enough for one night, and I fancy Schenk will think so too—eh, Dale?"
"Aye, and say so, if ever he gets the chance," replied the latter.
The party moved to the walls at the darkest point they could find and prepared to clamber over. The wall was here nearly ten feet high, and it was necessary for Dubec to plant himself against it and allow Max, assisted by Dale, to climb on his back. He could then help Dale up also before clambering on to the top. The rest would be easy enough. But a rude awakening was in store for them, for Max had no sooner put his head above the wall than he was greeted by a rifle-shot from the road below, and a bullet whizzed close overhead.
"Down, Max, down!" cried Dale, clutching at his friend in sudden consternation.
"I'm all right, old man," replied Max, who, needless to say, had lost no time in bobbing down below the level of the wall. "But we can't get over here," he added as he lowered himself gently to the ground. Dale followed suit, and the three men stood at the foot of the wall and anxiously debated their next move.
"It is pretty clear," Max summed up, "that the Germans have put a cordon of soldiers all about the works, and clearer still"—a little ruefully this—"that their orders are to shoot first and make enquiries afterwards."
"We must chance it and try to get over somewhere," responded Dale.
"No—too risky. The moment we top the wall we show up plainly against the light of the fire behind us. We should be noticed at once. We must try another plan."
"What's that?"
"The river."
"Ah—swim across?"
"Yes—or, better still, float down until we get beyond the roads about the works."
"But what about Dubec? Can he swim?"
"I don't suppose so. Can you, Monsieur Dubec?"
The answer was a decided negative, and Max went on: "But it doesn't matter. Dubec doesn't need to leave in the unorthodox way that Schenk has forced upon us. He is a bona fide workman, and has been working in the shops for the last three days. He is safe enough."
It was so arranged, and soon the party had gained the shelter of the bushes at the spot where their stock of shells had been hidden. Max and Dale then waded waist-deep into the Meuse, and, with a whispered farewell to M. Dubec, allowed themselves to float down with the stream. For some yards out the edge of the river was in deep shadow from the bank, and beyond a gentle movement of the hands to keep them within its shelter, the two lads let themselves drift at will. The water was warm and they felt no discomfort, and in half an hour they were beyond what they considered the danger zone. Clambering out of the river, they wrung as much of the water as possible out of their clothes and made rapid tracks for their lodging.
As was to be expected, the destruction of the power-house and the burning of one of the largest workshops at the Durend works created a great sensation among both the Germans and the Liégeois. The former looked upon it, rightly enough, as a determined attempt to interfere with their exploitation of the manufacturing resources of the city for the benefit of the invading armies; the latter, as a patriotic and successful demonstration of the hatred of the Belgians for their temporary masters and of their determination to hinder them by every means in their power. It gave the spirit of the people a fillip, and, despite the redoubled severity of the Germans, the Liégeois went about their businesses with a prouder air, as if conscious that, though temporarily overcome, they were very far from being beaten.
On attending for work on the following evening, at the usual hour, Max and Dale were curtly informed that they would not be required for another week at least. They had expected this, of course, and were only disappointed that the holiday was likely to be so short. They had hoped that the works would be out of action for at least three weeks. But the manager had set to work with his usual energy. Engines were being requisitioned from other factories in the town, not engaged in the manufacture of war supplies, and repairs to those less seriously damaged were going on with shifts of fresh workmen night and day.
It was nearly a fortnight, however, before the works were again in full swing, or would have been in full swing had not other events occurred to hinder the complete resumption of business. That fortnight Max considered as a specially favourable opportunity for paying further attention to M. Schenk and his many activities. It meant that the various workshops were empty, save for two or three watchmen, and that groups of workmen were necessarily hanging about the premises, idly watching the proceedings and waiting for the time when they could recommence work. The first meant opportunities that would not occur when the workshops were in full swing, and the second that the prowling of Max and his friends would be the less likely to attract notice.
One of the first things that caught the attention of Max and Dale was the rapid accumulation of great stocks of coal outside the yard, owing to the enforced idleness of the power-house. The Durend mines were, of course, unaffected by the stoppage of the workshops, and coal was sent up to the surface with the same regularity as before. In fact, the rate of production was accelerated, as numbers of the workmen thrown out of employment by the closing of the workshops applied for work at the collieries. Thus the stores of coal grew and grew, from stacks of the moderate dimensions (for the Durend Company) of 2000 or 3000 tons, to great piles of 10,000 and finally 24,000 tons. Then came a rumour that, as soon as trucks were available, the accumulation was to be transported into Germany and, worse still, to Krupp's.
This was enough to set Max and Dale discussing the matter with anxious care. To the former it was as intolerable that the Durend mines should produce coal for Krupp's as it was that the Durend workshops should cast shells for the German guns. And yet it was no easy matter to devise means of dealing with a great mass of coal. Obviously, it could not be carried off, and to blow it up was hardly practicable. However, after much discussion, it was decided that an attempt should be made to burn it. It certainly did not seem a very hopeful scheme, seeing the number of fire-engines that were close at hand in the city and the unlimited supply of water in the River Meuse. But to Max and Dale anything seemed better than to do nothing in such a matter, and they determined to make the attempt.
For materials all they needed was a good supply of firewood, a gallon or two of benzine, and some fuses.
The coal stacks were situated on a piece of waste land outside, but adjoining, the walled-in enclosure of the Durend works. They were accessible on all sides, but a watchman was always on guard to see that none of the coal was stolen. This man patrolled round and round the stacks, keeping a look-out for suspicious characters, especially, of course, any bearing sacks or baskets which might be used to contain coal.
It was in the middle of the night that Max and Dale, accompanied by the faithful Dubec, appeared on the scene. The last was carrying a bulky sack filled with firewood, Max bore a two-gallon tin of benzine, and Dale a dummy sack which appeared to be full, but which, as a matter of fact, contained only a light framework of wood designed to fill it out.
Dale's part of the performance began first. Waiting until the watchman had passed, he flitted across the road to the coal stack. Then he gave the stack a kick which sent a number of loose pieces of coal rattling to the ground. The watchman stopped instantly, and without more ado Dale turned and bolted down the road in full view.
As was expected, the watchman immediately gave chase, and in a couple of minutes both men had disappeared from the scene.
Max and Dubec now emerged, and lost no time in getting to work. They crossed the road to the end of the stack where, in the morning, work would be resumed. There they made four caches of wood close against the stack, covered them over with loose coal, and deluged the pile with benzine. From these caches fuses were laid upward to the top of the stack, and the whole covered over with more coal.
Long before the watchman had crawled back, grumbling and exhausted from his long chase after a thief who carried a great bag of coal with an ease that seemed extraordinary, the two other conspirators had disappeared from the scene. An hour later they rejoined Dale and spent half an hour in laughing over his recital of the way in which he had led the man farther and farther afield by pretending to be always on the point of dropping from fatigue.
The next day Dubec spent in watching the stacking of further supplies of coal. The caches of firewood, he reported, had not been noticed, and by the end of the day another 1200 tons of coal had been dumped against the stack, completely enclosing them. For one day more Max held his hand, while he worked at another scheme that was slowly maturing. Then, immediately after nightfall, he crept to the stack, and, watching his opportunity, clambered carefully to the top and lit the three fuses.
The smell presently told him that the fires had caught, and he crept away, satisfied that on the morrow there would be something of a hubbub, even if no very considerable damage resulted.
It was with the idea of watching developments that Max and Dale applied for work at the depots next day. They hoped to witness amusing and exhilarating scenes, and to get as near to the spot as possible they gladly offered to shovel coal. Their offer was accepted and they were soon at work transporting coal and shovelling it on to the stacks.
They soon experienced a sense of disappointment. Instead of finding the stacks enveloped in smoke, and all work suspended for the day, as they expected, they discovered that work was going on as usual and nothing seemed amiss.
"Seems to have been a frost, Max," grumbled Dale discontentedly. "All our trouble and brain-fag gone for nothing."
"I thought so at first, Dale, but I'm not so sure now. See that light haze yonder? It may be the fires have caught all right but are burning out for lack of draught. Let's hope they've done a bit of damage anyhow!"
"H'm!" grunted Dale in a tone of discouragement.
"Besides," Max went on, "this is only a small affair. The next real attack will come in a day or two, and I hope there will be no failure there."
"No," replied Dale, brightening up, "if that comes off we shall have done something worth doing. Schenk will be ready to tear his hair, and we shall have to look out for ourselves."
"Well, so we will. We shall deserve a rest, and we will retire into obscurity for a season and recuperate. Another ramble in the Ardennes would suit us well."
"Especially with a little shooting thrown in—Uhlans, I mean," replied Dale facetiously.
"There will be plenty of scouting, if not shooting, if all the tales we hear of those gentlemen be true."
"Aye—but see, Max, how that smoky haze is getting thicker! The pile must be alight all right after all."
The light fleecy smoke which hovered over the great stack certainly seemed denser than it was, and a slight smell of burning was in the air. The other workmen had also noticed it, and hazarded conjectures as to whence it came, but none of them got very near the mark. All day the smoke increased, until, by the time the men ceased work, it lay like a thick fog all about the neighbourhood.
Max and Dale returned to their lodging in high glee, and their joy was not diminished when they noticed that the wind was beginning to freshen up.
"This ought to finish the business, Dale," remarked Max. "With a high wind all night, if the fire doesn't get into its stride it never will."
Soon after daybreak the shrill notes of a bugle in several quarters of the town and the ringing of fire-bells told our heroes that something unusual was afoot. They guessed, or rather hoped, that it might be on their account, and dressed and sallied out as quickly as they could. Sure enough, an enormous pall of smoke, that a volcano in full eruption need not have disowned, lay in the air in the direction of the Durend coal-yards. Fire engines were hurrying to the scene from all parts of the town, and the hoped-for hubbub seemed to have arrived.
"This is worth a little trouble," remarked Dale with intense relish as they drew near the burning stack and saw hundreds of soldiers and firemen hovering actively about the spot.
"Yes, but we may as well take a little more trouble and do the thing in style," responded Max coolly. "Let us follow these hoses to the river bank and see whether there is anything doing."
They did so, and, finding that the hoses entered the water at a point where a patch or two of short scrubby bushes gave cover against chance watchers, they passed on and struck the bank again a hundred yards farther on. Then they disappeared from view, and, crawling along under cover of the bushes, they reached the hoses, and with a dozen rapid slashes of their clasp-knives effectually put them out of action.
An extraordinary hubbub ensued. Soldiers and firemen rushed about in all directions, chasing away every unfortunate civilian who had had the temerity to approach the scene of the fire. In the confusion Max and Dale had no difficulty in escaping, and retired to the hills, there to gloat over the further efforts made to fight the fire, which seemed only to grow fiercer as hundreds of gallons of water were pumped upon it. It was two days before the fire was completely subdued, and the net result from a material point of view was that at least 10,000 tons of coal had been destroyed and the project of transporting coal to Krupp's effectually quashed. From the point of view of moral, the Germans were the laughing-stock of the town; they were deeply enraged and the townsfolk proportionately delighted.