Ruth Fielding at the War Front; or, The Hunt for the Lost Soldier

by Alice B. Emerson

"Tante——" the major interposed gently.

"I will not, I tell you!" she interrupted.

She had backed up against the gate of the coop and had been fiddling behind her at its fastenings. Now, quick as a wink, she snatched the gate open and, with wonderful celerity for one of her age, plunged into the hencoop and slammed to the door.

There was a tumultuous flapping and cackling of the bewildered poultry, and the air inside the coop was immediately filled with dust and feathers. Then the chaos subsided and the old woman looked out defiantly at the major and at the half-amused, half-pitying soldier boys.

The major's shrug was characteristic. He turned to look at the spectators, and Ruth saw that his eyes were moist. His pity for the unfortunate old woman and his kindness to her had its effect upon the American girl. She wondered what manner of man, after all, this Frenchman could be.

Major Marchand said something in a low voice to the American corporal. The latter gave an order to his men. They surrounded the coop, and suddenly, at the word, the corners were torn apart and the walls of the enclosure thrown down.

Aunt Abelard shrieked—and so did the pullets. Many of the latter were caught on the wing by the soldiers. The major put his arm about the old woman's shoulders. She was shrieking insanely, but he led her into the house and there remained while most of the pullets were decapitated swiftly and thrown aside, to be later carried to the field kitchens.

But when the tearful old woman was brought out with the last of her possessions and bundled into the rear of the now loaded wagon, the American corporal came with a pair of the nicest pullets, their legs tied together, and placed them in the old woman's lap along with the bird-cage one of the boys lifted up to her.

Ruth, watching closely, saw Major Marchand draw the corporal aside and place a couple of twenty-franc notes in his hand, nodding toward the old woman. It was to recompense her for the pullets, over whose untimely fate she was still moaning.

The mystery of the major—or his character and what and who he really was—disturbed Ruth. She was excited. Should she tell Monsieur Lafrane of her suspicion that this officer of the French army was the man whom she thought was Nicko's double?