It was high noon and we were eating our dinners, when I heard a sharp, twice-repeated whistle. I could scarcely believe my senses; for it was the signal by which Jack was called.
While I was wondering, Jack trotted up whinneying. Jot caught his bridle and, fully equipped with arms and uniform, mounted bare back, walked him to the river, and, horse and man were seen swimming for the opposite shore. Before we had fully recovered from our surprise they were on the opposite side moving at a swift gallop. Then shots were fired; there were calls, confusing and uncertain before we fully comprehended that it was a case of desertion! Then rifle and machine-guns opened fire; but it was too late. Jot had deserted to the enemy, there was, apparently, no doubt about that. The deserting horseman had paused for a moment for a defiant salutation, before riding away with awaiting German soldiers.
I was paralyzed with astonishment! I would not have believed it, had I not seen this disgraceful act with my own eyes. There it was, notwithstanding: Jonathan Nickerson, a trusted officer, had deserted in the face of his comrades, and gone over to the hated enemy!
When I thought it over, it seemed to me that it had been planned from the first of his entrance into the service of the United States. His known conferences with his half-brother of German name, and his assuming another name than his real one, his interviews with another stranger, probably German, his buying Jack, all pointed to a deeply-laid, dangerous act of treason.
Was he a German spy? How long had it been going on, and what damage had he already done to our cause? His desertion was bold, aye brave, but that was no atonement for the deep damnation of it! Could I ever believe in any man’s profession again?
CHAPTER XVII
ANOTHER DESERTER
The desertion of Lieutenant Nickerson was the subject of many ugly remarks. A few asserted that they had suspicions from their first acquaintance with him that he was disloyal; but this assertion was not backed by any evidence to justify it. Others stoutly defended him by declaring that, while his desertion was a mystery, it would be explained sometime to his credit. But these were in a minority, and naturally so; for men will prefer to believe what they see, rather than theories or explanations.
For my start I was simply dazed. At one moment, remembering Jot and his many manly qualities, I could not believe him to be a traitor to his country. Then, with the cold facts before me, how could I explain what I had seen in any other way?
For a time I was heartsick and gloomy; but I did not let this mood interfere with my duty as an officer. I was more intensely loyal if possible than before.