Phil had good cause, as he proceeded with this explanation, to congratulate himself on the training he had received in a Philadelphia technical school. But he never knew with what degree of credence the latter part of his ingenious fabrication was received. He had scarcely finished the statement last recorded, when sound of the hurried tramping of many feet reached his ears. It reached the ears also of “Count Topoff,” who sprang to his feet in bewildered alarm. Then the forms of half a dozen armed men rushed into the room.
“Marines!” gasped Phil in amazement. “How in the world did they get here?”
CHAPTER XLII
RESCUED
“Count Topoff” undoubtedly did not appreciate the situation, or he would not have acted so rashly. He drew a pistol and fired point blank at the soldier in the lead. This was a signal for the Americans to answer in a business-like manner, which they did without ceremony, and “Mr. Boaconstrictor” dropped dead with several bullets in his body. Two of the Marines were wounded by the one shot fired by the mysterious “relative of the kaiser,” but not seriously.
This was the extent of the battle. The soldiers had taken possession of the chateau without other resistance. The British spy had prepared the way for the raid, having managed to get information to the allies of conditions at the century-old castle. He did this by means of Morse-code signaling to a fleet of American aviators just returning from an air raid over enemy territory, and it was answered with assurance that they would return prepared to raid the place.
There were only six prisoners in the chateau, but three of them were French and American spies with information of great importance. There were also only half a dozen boche guards in the place, including the orderly who had acted as Topoff’s personal servant. All but the latter were men of advanced age, too old for military service, and, as the fleet of aeroplanes that had arrived with a score of soldiers, could not carry the released prisoners and the captured boches very well, the latter were given their freedom as the raiders flew away, back behind the American lines.
On the way Phil rode in a large machine with the British spy, whose resourcefulness may have saved him from further untold torture and, it may be, death, for Phil subsequently grew extremely doubtful of his ability to make his “subterrene yarn stick.”
The spy’s name was Roscoe Chance. He proved to be an excellent type for impersonating almost any Caucasian nationality, and as he had studied German at college and spoke the language fluently he had been chosen as specially gifted to handle the secret service work that was consummated by the air raid which resulted in the rescue of Phil from the most fiendish torture.
Before they started on their return to the American lines, Chance gave Phil the following brief account of the history of the mysterious “Count Topoff”:
“He was a Prussian spy in France for twenty years, owning the chateau in which he lived. He pretended to be a great friend of the French cause, had even become a citizen of France to camouflage the real nature of his business. But an English spy in Berlin heard a rumor that Topoff was a relative of the kaiser and reported this to his government. I was therefore sent here to find out what I could.