JACK TURNED HIS WHIP FROM THE BACKS OF THE HORSES AND LASHED OUT AT THE WOLVES.

THE BOY ALLIES

(Registered in United States Patent Office)

In the Baltic

OR

Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar

By ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE

AUTHOR OF

“The Boy Allies Under the Sea,” “The Boy Allies on the North

Sea Patrol,” “The Boy Allies Under Two Flags,” “The

Boy Allies with the Flying Squadron,” “The Boy

Allies with the Terror of the Seas.”

Copyright, 1916

By A. L. Burt Company

THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC

THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC

CHAPTER I.
ON A RAID.

“Submerge to five fathoms, Mr. Templeton!”

The speaker was Lord Hastings, commander of the British submarine D-17.

Jack Templeton, a British youth and first officer of the under-sea craft, repeated the command for which he had been waiting now for some moments.

“Mr. Chadwick!”

Lord Hastings’ voice again.

“Sir!”

A third figure, standing upon the bridge—now enclosed as the submarine sank from the surface—came to attention before his commander. Frank Chadwick, an American youth and second officer of the vessel, awaited instructions.

“Everything shipshape?” questioned his commander sharply.

“Yes, sir. Engine-room trouble all repaired, sir.”

“Lookout posted forward?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Very well. Ten fathoms, Mr. Templeton!”

Lord Hastings turned from the periscope, through which he had been peering, and for a moment gazed thoughtfully at his two young officers before speaking. At last he said:

“Unless something goes wrong we will be in Heligoland within two hours!”

A startling statement, this, to one who did not know the nature of the man who made it; for it was a fact known to all the world that Heligoland, the great German fortress that guarded the approach to the few miles of German seacoast, was one of the strongest in the world—perhaps as well fortified as Gibraltar itself, and considered by naval experts equally as impregnable.

Apparently the D-17 was bent upon a perilous venture.

Such, indeed, was the case. The D-17, sister ship to the D-16, in which Lord Hastings and his two young officers had seen many exciting adventures, as related in “The Boy Allies with the Terror of the Seas,” had left the coast of England the day before, heading straight for the strongly fortified German base; and now she was almost there.

Just what object Lord Hastings had in view neither Jack nor Frank knew, for Lord Hastings had not yet taken them fully into his confidence concerning this expedition. Since leaving England he had been busy in his cabin almost continuously poring over papers and maps, but both lads had a pretty shrewd idea that the venture was an important one.

Now Frank asked:

“And what are we going to do in there, sir?”

Lord Hastings smiled.

“What would be your idea about that?”

“Well,” said Frank, “there are several things we might do. First, we might sink a couple of German war vessels. We might try and learn the lay of the land—perhaps I should say the water—or we might try and get ashore and so learn other matters of importance. Have I hit it, sir?”

“You have,” returned his commander dryly; “you’ve hit it in more ways than one. In fact, I may say you have guessed shrewdly all through.”

“Then I can do a little guessing, too,” declared Jack.

“Well?” said Lord Hastings inquiringly.

“Well,” said Jack, “we first shall probably make an attempt to get ashore, for there we can learn more than we could reconnoitering beneath the water. That’s where we shall try to find our information. And we shall sink a couple of the enemy on our way out. Am I right, sir?”

“You are,” replied Lord Hastings briefly, and turning on his heel he left the bridge and disappeared in his cabin, only to reappear a few moments later, charts and papers in his hands, announcing:

“Mr. Chadwick, you will take the wheel yourself. I’ll stand beside you and give my orders. These waters are thickly strewn with mines and we can afford to take no chances.”

Frank obeyed this command without question and Lord Hastings took his place beside him, first remarking to Jack:

“You will relieve the lookout forward, Mr. Templeton, and keep your eyes open. I need not mention the need of prompt action should you perceive danger ahead. Slow down to five knots!”

“Very well, sir.”

Jack saluted, and after giving the command that reduced the speed of the vessel, took himself forward.

There, at the extreme bow, he relieved a sailor and took the watch himself.

Now the D-17, like her sister ship the D-16, which had been sunk off the Dardanelles—an accident in which all on board escaped as by a miracle—was as unlike other under-water craft as day is from night.

In the first place, she was able to remain under water indefinitely. It was not necessary for her to return to the surface every so often to replenish her air tanks, for she carried no tanks. The D-17 generated her air supply from the water, by means of a secret process known only to high officials of the British admiralty. Also, the D-17 was the last word in submarine craft in other respects. She had a speed of more than thirty knots when submerged, could move along even faster upon the surface of the water, and her bow, a solid piece of substantial glass, in which reposed a huge searchlight, made it possible for her to pick her course under the water—something that no other submarine craft was able to do. For this latter reason she could venture places where no other vessel would dare.

The huge light flashing in front now, Jack took his stand and stood with eyes straining into the distance ahead.

And while the D-17 is thus moving toward the strongest fortification of the enemy, a few words concerning the two subordinate officers aboard are necessary.

Frank Chadwick, an American youth of some seventeen years of age, found himself in his present position as a result of a series of strange happenings. He had lost his father in Italy immediately after the outbreak of the great war, and while hunting him in Naples, had been shanghaied aboard an Italian schooner. Here, following a mutiny of the crew and the death of the captain, he found himself a prisoner, remaining so until released by Jack Templeton.

The latter’s appearance came about in this manner: Jack, the son of an Englishman, nevertheless had spent most of his life in a little African coast town. His father died there and Jack found himself sole owner of a little store, which had almost a native trade alone, though an occasional ship put in for supplies.

One day a schooner hove in sight. A boat put over the side and its occupants obtained provisions at Jack’s store. In the lad’s absence, they departed without making payment. Jack hurried after them to collect and climbed aboard the schooner just as she raised anchor. A fight followed his demand for payment. By some resourcefulness and some good hard fighting, the lad succeeded in gaining the upper hand. Then he released Frank, whom he found a prisoner with another, a British secret service agent.

A series of subsequent events threw the lads into the company of Lord Hastings, who, taking a liking to them, answered their pleas to be made sailors by securing them commissions and taking them aboard his own ship at the opening of the great world war.

Then had followed months of excitement and adventure. They had taken part in British successes and reverses on all the seven seas. They had been “in at the death” in the first British naval victory off Heligoland; they had followed the German cruiser Emden, “the Terror of the Sea”; they had been in action with the British fleet that destroyed the German squadron off the Falkland Islands in the western hemisphere; they had seen action in other parts of the globe—at the Dardanelles, with the Japanese at Tsingchau, with the French in the Adriatic and with the Russians in the Baltic.

In a word, they were veterans.

Many were the narrow escapes they had had, but they had always survived. Their latest venture had almost cost Frank his life, for, after the submarine upon which they sailed had been destroyed, Frank engaged in a death struggle with a British traitor in the waters of the North Sea and had won by a scant fraction. He was unconscious when rescued by his chum and he had remained inactive, as had the others, in England for several weeks.

But now, the D-17 having been put in service, Lord Hastings had been named to command her and all were eager to get busy again.

Frank, though sturdy and strong, was by no means a match for his chum, a powerful and husky young Englishman. Also he was naturally more hot-headed than his friend, and given to taking foolhardy chances—at times. Jack’s coolness had saved both more than once.

Jack was what Frank called a real fighter and had proved his mettle more than once since the two had been together. Strong as an ox, he was a bad customer to tackle in a rough and tumble and he was exceedingly proficient in the use of his fists. Also he was a fair swordsman and a fair shot.

It was in the latter accomplishment that Frank excelled. He was a dead shot with either rifle or revolver, as he had proved in several tight situations where straight shooting had been necessary. He had never failed in this respect.

Fortunately, both lads spoke German and French as well as English, and under Lord Hastings’ tutoring, they had also picked up a smattering of Italian, Russian and Hungarian—not much, perhaps, but enough to carry on a conversation, although with some difficulty.

At the time the D-17 made her way toward Heligoland, the great war was almost at a standstill. It seemed that the warring nations had reached a deadlock that could not be broken.

On sea, of course, the Allies held the whip hand, except for the submarine warfare instigated by the Central Powers. This, however, due in a measure to the activities of British under-sea craft upon which Jack and Frank had served, had been somewhat lessened lately and German U-boats, as they had come to be known, had not been so active recently.

On land, however, it seemed that neither side had gained much in the last few months. What advantage there was seemed to have rested with the Germans, for the Kaiser’s mighty drive through the Balkans had completely crushed heroic little Serbia and had opened a path to Constantinople for the German hordes. Also it had brought Bulgaria into the war on the side of the Central Powers, giving them the armed weight necessary to keep Greece and Roumania from throwing their support to the Allies, much as they would have liked to do so.

This was the situation, then, when the D-17 steamed slowly toward the German naval fortress of Heligoland.

As Lord Hastings, standing by Frank at the wheel, gave the course, avoiding mines as well as he could by the chart that had somehow come into his possession, Jack retained his place forward in the glass-like cage, his eyes steadily ahead.

For an hour, perhaps, he sat there, seeing nothing that indicated danger.

Then, suddenly, his right hand shot out, his finger touched a little push-button; the throb of the engines ceased as if by magic and the D-17 seemed to halt in her track.

Jack approached Lord Hastings.

“Mine, sir,” he said, quietly.

CHAPTER II.
WITHIN THE FORTRESS.

“Good work, Jack,” said Frank, approvingly.

“What do you advise?” asked Lord Hastings. “Up or down?”

“Depends on the depth, sir,” replied Jack.

“We’ll have a look at the chart,” said Lord Hastings.

He spread it out before him and the three pored over it for several moments.

“Here you are, sir,” said Frank, at last, placing a finger on the chart.

“Plenty of water,” was Lord Hastings’ comment. “Submerge another five fathoms, Mr. Templeton.”

Jack gave the order and then returned to his post.

The D-17 submerged another five fathoms and proceeded at a snail’s pace. Jack kept his eyes glued to the course ahead.

Half an hour later the vibrations of the engine ceased. Then Jack made his way aft to where Lord Hastings and Frank were conversing.

“Unless I am badly off in my calculations,” said Lord Hastings, “we should now be able to come to the surface beyond the mine field.”

“And as soon as we do, some German warship will send us to the bottom,” remarked Frank dryly.

“So they will—if they see us,” returned his commander. “We must make it a point that they do not see us. That’s all.”

“All very well, sir,” said Jack, “but if we go up now they are sure to see us—and they won’t mistake us for one of themselves this time.”

Lord Hastings smiled quietly.

“Then we won’t go up now,” he replied as he looked at his watch and noted that it was half past five. “It’ll be dark in less than an hour. We’ll remain here until then.”

This ended the conversation and the commander of the D-17 went to his cabin, leaving Jack in command.

The time passed slowly, but darkness came at last; and with its coming Lord Hastings emerged from his cabin, attired in the uniform of a German lieutenant-commander.

“I forgot to tell you lads to don your German uniforms,” he said. “I’ll wait now, but make haste.”

Frank and Jack hurried away in response to this command and soon were attired in the full regalia of German lieutenants. Lord Hastings eyed them approvingly.

“There is no use talking,” he said, “I have always thought it—and I am sure of it now—both of you would make first-class Germans. You may give the command to come to the surface, Mr. Templeton.”

A few moments later the D-17 rode gently upon the calm sea within the fortifications of Heligoland, the greatest German military fortresses, and considered among the strongest and most impregnable in the world.

It was very dark and the night was perfectly still when the three forms ascended the ladder and emerged from the conning tower to the bridge—open now that the submarine was above water. A fourth figure followed them, that of Price, an aged British tar, whom Lord Hastings had designated to take command in their absence.

“Don’t forget now, Price,” said Lord Hastings sternly, “you will submerge immediately we have put off and on no account will you come to the surface again until 9 o’clock to-morrow night. Then you will rise in exactly this spot—and be sure that you are on time. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly, sir,” replied Price, saluting.

“Good. Then launch the boat.”

This was done immediately and a few moments later Lord Hastings, Jack and Frank were proceeding rapidly shoreward, the engine of the small motor-boat muffled so that all that could be heard was the faint sound of the exhaust.

In the darkness, as they sped on, loomed great, dark shapes—the forms of some of the most powerful of the Kaiser’s formidable sea fighters. Smoke poured from their funnels and faint lights glowed aboard.

“Ready for action at any moment,” said Lord Hastings.

“So they are,” agreed Frank. “Great Scott! It doesn’t seem possible that so many of these great craft could be afraid to venture forth to give battle.”

“No, it doesn’t,” declared Jack. “But at the same time, you must remember there are more and still more formidable craft waiting for them to come out and try it.”

“That’s true, too,” admitted Frank. “I wish they would try it, though. I don’t believe many of them would get back.”

“Evidently the Germans have the same belief—which is the reason they haven’t tried it,” said Lord Hastings, smiling in the darkness.

“Silence, now,” he cautioned them, after a moment. “We are close to the shore. Let all further talk be in German.”

Five minutes later the motor-boat came to a long pier, which extended far into the water.

“Here we are,” said Lord Hastings in German. He glanced around. “Other boats tied up here. Guess we might as well do the same,” he said. “We may need it. Fortunately, at my suggestion, none of the D-17’s boats bear a mark of identification. Guess it won’t be bothered.”

The three climbed up on the pier and the boat was made fast.

“Which way now, sir?” asked Frank.

“We’ll just do a little prowling,” said Lord Hastings.

He turned and was about to move off when there came a gruff hail:

“Who goes there?”

“Friend!” replied Lord Hastings, wheeling about quickly and looking into the heavy-joweled face of a German sentinel.

The German eyed the three figures keenly; then, apparently satisfied that they were all they seemed, he brought his hand up in a stiff military salute. The three passed on.

“Rather lax methods here, if you ask me,” said Frank, when they were out of hearing.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Jack. “You must remember that they feel perfectly secure. Evidently they have no idea an enemy would venture within this fortification.”

“Some of them have ventured within ours,” returned Frank.

“Just the egotism of the German, that’s all,” said Lord Hastings. “They all believe they can do things that no other man would even consider.”

“So they do,” declared Frank.

Jack looked at his chum in surprise.

“Just what do you mean by that?” he demanded.

“Oh, I was just thinking of the Lusitania, and a few other things.”

“That’s different,” said Jack.

They continued their walk.

Now they came to a brilliantly lighted street.

“I didn’t know this was a regular city,” was Frank’s comment.

“Neither is it,” returned Lord Hastings, “although there are some few people living here.”

“But look,” protested Frank, pointing, “those are restaurants and cafés; and there are stores and things.”

“So there are,” returned his commander. “Must have changed since I was here last. However, I suppose it is because the garrison has to have some form of entertainment. Guess the best thing we can do is to go in one of these cafés and look about a bit.”

He led the way, and just before entering the brilliantly lighted doorway, paused long enough to say in a low voice:

“No hesitation now. It would prove fatal. Walk as if you owned the place—just as every German does.”

The boys needed no instructions along this line, and they followed Lord Hastings with heads erect, swaggering a trifle.

Inside there was revelry. German officers sat about tables that lined the four walls of the room. With them, or some of them, were their wives. Apparently it was the supper hour.

At a far end of the room a string orchestra furnished music and there were four singers—two men and two women—or rather one young girl, for such Frank perceived her to be after careful inspection.

A courteous waiter met the three at the door as they entered, and with many bows ushered them to a table in a distant corner. They sat down and Lord Hastings gave the order for supper.

Now the music struck up a more lively gait and some of the German officers and their wives arose and danced in the center of the floor. Frank saw a young German lieutenant, who apparently had been drinking, approach the youthful singer. Apparently he asked her to dance, for he indicated the other whirling couples. But the girl shook her head. Whereupon the young German muttered something under his breath and took himself away.

Frank found his eyes continually straying toward the young girl; and once aware of his scrutiny, the girl’s eyes also flashed in his direction more often than was necessary. Jack noticed this, but said nothing.

But there was something else that Jack noticed as he ate. The young German who had so recently been refused by the girl, had followed the direction of her eyes and he now glared at Frank balefully. Jack smiled to himself.

But the lad’s smile soon changed to a frown.

After five minutes, the young German officer again approached the girl and again asked her to dance. He met a second refusal and this time words ensued. The German seemed angry and two of his companions approached and pulled him away.

Frank had been a witness of this scene, as had Jack and Lord Hastings.

“The big bully!” said Frank half aloud. “Just because he wears a German uniform he thinks he owns the earth. I would like to teach him a lesson.”

“Don’t try it here,” said Lord Hastings quietly. “Remember where we are and the position we are in.”

“Oh, I won’t, sir,” replied Frank. “But I don’t like that fellow’s looks.”

“You don’t, eh?” said Jack. “Well, how about the pretty singer. I notice you have been looking that way quite often.”

Frank’s face grew red.

“She doesn’t look like a German to me,” he said.

“No, she doesn’t,” Jack agreed. “Still, she must be or she wouldn’t be here. Besides, she hasn’t a trace of accent.”

“Neither have you and you are not German,” declared Frank.

Jack would have replied, but his attention was suddenly drawn again to the girl, who now seemed to be making signals to catch Frank’s eye.

“Seems to want to talk to you,” said Jack, nudging his chum slyly.

At that moment the girl looked directly at Frank and smiled. Then she motioned him to come to her. Frank was greatly flustered. Not so Jack.

“You’d better go. She probably wants you to dance with her,” said Jack.

“Yes, you had better go, Frank,” said Lord Hastings. “In the first place it would be impolite to refuse, and besides, it might attract attention. Only be careful.”

Frank, his face still red, hesitated a moment; then rose to his feet.

CHAPTER III.
A WARNING.

Now, Frank, attired in his German uniform, made a handsome picture of a young officer and many eyes were turned his way as he strode across the floor. Particularly did the young German officer with whom the singer had refused to dance eye him, but his was not a gaze of admiration—it was anger.

Lord Hastings called Jack’s attention to this.

“Oh, I’ve noticed it,” said Jack. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Now I wonder what that girl wants with Frank?”

Lord Hastings shrugged his shoulders.

“You have as much an idea as I have,” was his reply.

The girl arose from her seat as Frank approached. She extended a hand, and, with the air of a true cavalier, Frank bent low over it. Then, as the music struck up, the girl smiled and would have spoken, but Frank forestalled her.

“Will you dance?” he asked.

She nodded; and a moment later they were whirling about the floor in an old-fashioned waltz.

Thus among the crowd there was a certain privacy and Frank was moved to ask:

“And now will you not tell me why you signalled me?”

Instantly the girl became serious, although she continued to smile.

“I must be brief,” she said, “so listen closely. In the first place you are not German. Oh, I knew it the moment you came in,” she said hurriedly, as Frank gave a start. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but the young German officer whom I refused to dance with also suspects. He said as much when he noticed me looking at you. He said he would catch you off your guard and force you to betray yourself.”

“But——” Frank started to protest.

“Oh, there is no use trying to fool me,” said the girl. “I know you are not a German—an Englishman perhaps, eh?”

Frank smiled at her.

“No; not an Englishman,” he replied.

“You are not French,” said the girl, looking up at him. “Even though you speak German without accent, I know you are not French, for I myself am French and I would detect it.”

“No; I am not French,” said Frank with another smile.

“Then what?” asked the girl.

“Well,” said Frank, “what would you say to an American.”

“An American!” exclaimed the girl. “Are you, really? I am glad, for I have wanted to meet an American.”

Suddenly Frank gave another start.

“Great Scott!” he thought. “Suppose this girl is fooling me? Suppose she has taken this means of finding out who we are?”

He looked at her suspiciously. But the girl evidently read his thoughts, for she looked at him steadily and said:

“No, I will not betray you. You need have no fear.”

“But if you are French,” said Frank, “what are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story,” said the girl, “and some day I may tell you. But now I have not time. The music will stop in a moment or two now, and you must return to your friends. But I had to warn you, for I know that Lieutenant Holzen is bent on mischief. It would be well for you and your friends to leave at once.”

“Thanks,” said Frank, “but we are able to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh, I know that,” responded the girl. “But I know also that you would not be here except upon some desperate mission and that you cannot afford to jeopardize for the sake of a quarrel.”

“You are right, of course,” said Frank quietly. “But tell me, what is my mission to you?”

“Nothing,” said the girl slowly, “only that—that I would do anything for France.”

She said it gravely and there could be no mistaking her earnestness. Frank bowed his head in reply; for there was nothing he could say.

Several times more they whirled about the room; and then Frank bethought himself to ask the girl who she was.

“Will you tell me your name?” he asked. “I am Lieutenant Chadwick of His British Majesty’s service.”

The girl smiled and would have replied, but at that moment the music ceased. Frank offered her his arm and led her back to her seat and there was no further opportunity for the girl to reply to the lad’s last question. As she resumed her seat, Frank bowed once more, then turned on his heel and strode back to his own table, where Lord Hastings and Jack were awaiting him eagerly.

“Well, fair charmer,” Jack greeted him. “How——”

Frank silenced his chum with a gesture.

“This is a serious business,” he said quietly and told the others what the girl had said.

“And you admitted it?” exclaimed Jack in a subdued voice. “She’ll tell every German in forty miles.”

“No, she won’t,” declared Frank. “She was telling the truth.”

Jack laughed aloud.

“Of all the credulous——” he began.

“Look here. I tell you she was telling the truth,” declared Frank angrily.

Again Jack laughed and Frank was about to make another angry remark when Lord Hastings interfered.

“Perhaps Frank is right,” he said quietly. “At all events, it is nothing for you two to fight about.”

“We’re not fighting, sir,” said Jack. “But the idea——”

“The idea nothing!” Frank broke in. “I guess I know what I am talking about. I danced with her, didn’t I? You didn’t.”

“Ha! ha!” said Jack. “You see, sir, he brags about it. She’s fooled him, all right.”

“Don’t you believe it, sir,” declared Frank. “I tell you, sir, the girl was telling me the truth. Why, sir, you have only to look at her——”

“Now we have it, sir,” exclaimed Jack. “That’s it. You have only to look at her. Ha! ha!”

“I tell you——” Frank began angrily again.

Jack made his chum a bow across the table.

“You are right,” he said with a superior air that only angered Frank the more. “She told you the truth.”

“Enough of this,” interposed Lord Hastings. “No matter whether she told the truth or not, we are in danger. If she didn’t tell the truth we are likely to be set upon at any moment and if she did the German officer probably will make trouble. The best thing we can do is get out of here.”

He signaled the waiter and paid the check.

“Come,” he said and got to his feet.

The waiter brought their hats and cloaks and Lord Hastings moved toward the door. Jack followed him and Frank came last.

On the way to the door it was necessary to pass the table at which the German officer and his companions were seated. Lord Hastings walked by without a glance, as did Jack. Frank would have followed, but the German suddenly jumped to his feet and confronted him with an imprecation.

“Stand aside,” said Frank quietly.

The German made no move to comply. At first Frank thought of pushing the man away; then changed his mind, for he realized that such an act would draw all eyes to them. The best plan was to get by quietly if possible.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It is my belief that you are a spy,” declared the German.

“Yes?” said Frank inquiringly. “Well, sir, every man has a right to his own opinion; you as well as another.”

“Smart, aren’t you?” sneered the German. He raised his hand suddenly and, before Frank could realize his intention, slapped the lad smartly across the face.

Frank took a step forward and his hands clenched. His face turned red and he was about to return the blow. A second time his better judgment prevailed and he stepped back, remarking quietly:

“You shall answer for that, Lieutenant Holzen!”

“What! you know my name?” exclaimed the German. “So I shall answer, eh? Yes, so I shall, at any time and place that suits your convenience.”

“I am no duelist,” said Frank quietly.

“No; you are a coward,” was the retort.

Again Frank’s face turned red and his hands clenched; but he restrained himself.

“For that you shall answer also,” he said. “Now, stand aside. I would pass.”

“Not much!” said Lieutenant Holzen. “First you must tell me the time and place of meeting.”

“Look here, I’m getting tired of this foolishness,” said Frank. “Get out of my way.”

“What do you mean by speaking like that to me?” demanded the German angrily. “You shall pass when I allow you to pass, not before.”

“If you don’t get out of my way immediately, I shall have to throw you out,” said Frank very quietly, which was a sure sign that his anger was reaching the bursting point.

“So?” said the German with a laugh. “Now, I say——”

“You’ve said enough,” cried Frank suddenly.

He struck out suddenly with his right fist. The blow went true. Struck upon the point of the jaw, the German reeled back. Frank straightened him up again with a left-handed hook to the stomach and then sent his right fist to the jaw a second time. The German officer sprawled across the table.

Before any of the others could interfere Frank dashed toward the door where Lord Hastings and Jack stood, having watched developments with the assurance that Frank could take care of himself.

All dashed out together.

“This way!” cried Lord Hastings.

The others followed close on his heels.

Behind, as they darted round a corner, they could hear the hue and cry of the pursuers.

“We’ll have to do some sprinting,” declared Lord Hastings.

For perhaps fifteen minutes they ran, turning corner after corner, and at last, when Lord Hastings felt they were safe from pursuit, he drew up for a much needed breath.

“Can’t tell whether they’ll follow us or not,” he said. “If they take any stock in the officer’s story that we are spies, they will. If they think it is just a private quarrel, the chances are they won’t. However, we can do no particular good here. We’ll have to go back and see.”

“Anything you say, sir,” agreed Frank. “I suppose I shouldn’t have hit that fellow, but he wouldn’t let me by.”

“Don’t worry about that. You did exactly right,” declared Lord Hastings. “Come on.”

He led the way in the direction from which they had come.

CHAPTER IV.
MARIE DULCÉ.

Things seemed to have quieted down when the three found themselves again before the café. Apparently there had been but a faint-hearted pursuit. All breathed easier.

“They can’t have believed very much in that spy story,” remarked Frank.

“It would seem that way,” agreed Lord Hastings. “Evidently they took your friend’s words as the ravings of a man intoxicated.”

“A good thing, too, sir,” said Jack. “None of them will molest us, unless it is the doughty lieutenant himself.”

“We don’t need to worry about him, I guess,” said Lord Hastings. “Now we must get busy. I wonder——” as a sudden thought struck him, “if your friend,” he turned to Frank, “the young lady, I mean, couldn’t give us, or get for us, the information we desire.”

“I guess she could, sir,” replied Frank, “if we could find her.”

“She probably is still in the café,” said Jack.

“And so probably is Lieutenant Holzen,” replied Frank dryly.

“True,” said Lord Hastings. “We can’t afford to risk another encounter. Guess we’ll have to hunt up the place she lives. All we have to do is ask where Mademoiselle—by the way, Frank, what is her name?”

“I don’t know, sir. She didn’t tell me.”

“What?” exclaimed Lord Hastings in surprise. “You are a nice gallant, you are. So you failed to find out her name, eh?”

“Yes, sir. She was just going to tell me when the music stopped.”

Jack laughed.

“Maybe she wasn’t so anxious to tell you,” he said.

“Now look here,” said Frank, “don’t let’s start that again. If it touches you on a sore spot, I’ll drop the subject.”

“Oh, all right,” said Jack.

“Well, the matter should not be so difficult, anyhow,” declared Lord Hastings. “We’ll ask someone the name of the young lady who sings.”

“Perfectly simple, sir,” agreed Jack. “Whom shall we ask?”

“The first person we see,” was the reply.

Lord Hastings led the way down the street. An officer approached. Lord Hastings accosted him in German.

“I have recently been ordered to Heligoland,” he said. “A moment ago I was in yonder café,” pointing, “and the young singer in there bears such a striking resemblance to the daughter of a friend of mine that I should like to know if she is the same.”

“And the name of the young lady to whom you refer?” questioned the German.

“Henrietta! Henrietta Blucher!”

The German laughed.

“Then you are mistaken,” he said pleasantly. “The young lady who sings in yonder café is Marie Dulcé and she is a French girl.”

“I had not taken her to be French,” returned Lord Hastings. “Can you tell me where she lives?”

“Why, certainly,” was the reply, and the German named an address and gave the necessary directions for getting there. “I don’t imagine,” he added, “you will find her home much before 12 o’clock, the café does not close until eleven.”

Lord Hastings thanked the man and the latter took himself off.

“Well, we have that much to go on, anyhow,” said Lord Hastings. “Now the best thing for us to do is to go to Mlle. Dulcé’s home and await her arrival.”

“And maybe they won’t let us in,” said Jack.

“We’ll have to chance that.”

An hour later they sought the address given and mounted the steps. Lord Hastings rang the bell. A pleasant-appearing woman of middle age answered their summons. At a glance Lord Hastings knew she was French and he addressed her in that language.

“Could it be that you are Madame Dulcé?” he inquired courteously.

The woman smiled as she answered in the affirmative.

“We,” said Lord Hastings, indicating Frank and Jack as well as himself, “would have a few words with your daughter Marie when she returns home. We have sought her here rather than at the café for several reasons.”

A look of deep anxiety spread itself over Madame Dulcé’s face and she asked excitedly:

“What has she done, sir? Surely she will not be arrested? You do not take her for a spy?”

“You need have no fear,” returned Lord Hastings reassuringly. “We mean no harm. May we come in and wait?”

“Certainly.”

Madame Dulcé led the way into a small, though cozy parlor and took their hats and coats.

“Marie will be here soon after twelve,” she said. “She always comes straight home, for she knows I worry about her.”

“How does it happen that she sings in the café?” asked Lord Hastings.

“Because we are so poor,” was the reply. “Her salary there enables us to keep the wolf away from the door. Frau Heffler, who also sings, was the one who so kindly gave her the opportunity.”

“I see,” said Lord Hastings, and became silent.

The time passed slowly; but it passed. Frank waited eagerly, for he was anxious to see the girl again. Jack noticed the look on his chum’s face and remarked:

“Now just be patient. Marie will soon be here.”

Frank smiled.

“It’s not as bad as that, I assure you,” he returned.

Came the sound of light footsteps without. A key turned in the front door and the footsteps came toward the parlor.

“You have company, mother?” asked the girl’s voice as she tripped forward.

“Some gentlemen to see you, Marie,” was the reply.

In the doorway the girl stood spellbound for a brief instant, as she made out the faces of the callers. At first she did not recognize Lord Hastings and Jack, but she knew Frank instantly.

“Lieutenant Chadwick!” she exclaimed.

She came forward with outstretched hand and again Frank bent low over it.

“But tell me,” she said. “How were you able to find my home? And what is it you want of me?”

“I found your home by asking,” returned Frank. “As for what we want, I would first present my commander and brother officer to you.”

Introductions followed all around and then the girl repeated her question.

“I would rather,” said Lord Hastings, giving Marie a sharp look, “if we could speak with you alone.”

“But my mother——” protested the girl.

“I know,” continued Lord Hastings, “but she need have no fear.”

Madame Dulcé arose and smiled.

“I shall leave you,” she said. “When you have finished your talk, will you call me, Marie?”

The girl nodded and Madame Dulcé left the room.

“Now, gentlemen,” said Marie, turning to the others.

“As commander of this party,” said Lord Hastings with a smile, “I guess it is up to me, as the Americans say, to do the talking.” He gazed at the girl earnestly. “You know something of us already,” he added, “so there is no harm in putting ourselves further in your power.”

“You need have no fear that I shall betray you,” said the girl.

“I had no such thought,” responded Lord Hastings courteously. “Well, then the situation is this,” and he told her why they had come to Heligoland.

“And what is it you want of me?” said the girl, when he had concluded.

“Recalling what you told Mr. Chadwick you would do for France,” said Lord Hastings quietly, “I am here to put you to the test.”

The girl sprang to her feet and her eyes flashed for a brief instant. Then she sat down again.

“Try me,” she said quietly.

Lord Hastings nodded his satisfaction.

“Then,” said he, “can you tell me something of the fortifications of Heligoland? Can you tell me its weak spots and its strong? Can you tell me how many men there are here—how many battleships? In short, can you tell me anything that will be of value to the Allies?”

“I can,” was the quiet reply. “Ever since the war broke out I have been learning things—and trying to learn more—and I have stored them up in my memory for just this chance. It has been my ambition to serve France and it makes me happy to think I can do so at last.”

“Good,” said Lord Hastings. “Then perhaps the best way will be for you to answer my questions.”

“Bien, Lord Hastings.”

“First, then, from what you have learned, where is the weakest spot in the fortifications—the spot that would be most susceptible to attack?”

“I can answer that quickly,” was the reply. “There is none.”

“The number of ships in the harbor?” was Lord Hastings’ next question.

“At the moment, seventy-two, cruisers, dreadnoughts and torpedo boats. The others are in the Kiel Canal, or in the Baltic.”

“And the number of men now stationed here?”

“I can’t answer that exactly, but the number is comparatively small. I can find out in the morning.”

“We’ll pass that for the moment, then. Is there a submarine base here, or do the underwater boats operate from Kiel?”

“There is a submarine base here.”

Thus Lord Hastings questioned the girl at length and she answered quietly and comprehensively. The conversation continued for more than an hour. Lord Hastings, Jack and Frank storing what the girl told them in their memories for future use.

“And now,” said Lord Hastings, “for the final question.”

Marie Dulcé smiled.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“Is there any way in which you can procure for me a map of the fortress itself, including all its details?”

For a brief moment the girl was silent. Then she sprang to her feet, her eyes once again flashing.

“I can and I will!” she cried determinedly. “You shall have the paper to-morrow night before eight o’clock.”

CHAPTER V.
THAT NIGHT.

The conversation having come to this point, Lord Hastings considered further words useless. He was deeply impressed by the bearing of the young French girl and he had no doubt that she would do what she said—or, at least, that it would not be her fault if she failed; nor, for that matter, had Frank or Jack.

“Well,” said Lord Hastings after a short silence, “that settles that, then. I don’t suppose you will tell me your plan?”

The girl shook her head and smiled.

“It’s hardly necessary,” she replied. “Now, if you wish, I shall have mother make a place here for you for the night. I don’t suppose you have any other place to go?”

Lord Hastings shook his head negatively, and half an hour later the three found themselves in a cozy little room on the second floor, in which there were two beds.

“You may sleep securely here,” was Madame Dulcé’s parting words.

Neither Jack, Frank, nor the commander wasted much time getting into bed, for they were all tired out and a few moments later they were asleep.

All were astir early in the Dulcé home the following morning, in spite of the lateness of the hour at which they had retired.

“I suppose you will be on your mission this morning?” asked Lord Hastings of Marie.

“No,” replied the girl with a smile. “To-night will be time enough. I shall spend the day here entertaining you.”

Lord Hastings made a gallant response, but he did not press the girl for the method she intended to pursue.

The day passed pleasantly and swiftly. Night came only too soon, thought Frank, who was beginning to admire the young French girl immensely.

Dusk fell soon after five o’clock and Marie made ready to go. Heavily cloaked and muffled, she turned in the door as she was about to leave.

“If you will venture to the café again to-night,” she said, “I shall have the papers for you. There is no other place where I can give them to you, so you will have to risk another visit.”

“We shall be there,” said Frank. “I guess we can avoid Lieutenant Holzen some way, if he should be there.”

“He is always there,” replied Marie and a moment later she was gone.

“I guess we had better wait a while,” said Lord Hastings. “Nothing was ever gained by being in a rush.”

Accordingly it was an hour later—almost half-past six o’clock—when the three came again to the little café.

Lord Hastings entered jauntily, not the slightest nervousness in his manner, though his right hand in the pocket of his great coat rested upon the butt of his revolver. Frank and Jack, close behind, also had a hand thrust into their pockets and there was no need to mention what lay within the palm of each.

A waiter approached and conducted them to a table at the far end of the room, but one removed from the one they had had the night before. Lord Hastings gave the order and then, for the first time, glanced around.

There was no sign of Lieutenant Holzen.

Across the room Marie was preparing to sing and a hush fell over the diners,—which continued until she had finished. Following came a roar of approval. It was while she was responding to an encore that Lieutenant Holzen entered.

Frank was the first to see him and gave a start. He spoke to Lord Hastings in a whisper.

“Keep your nerve, now,” was his commander’s quiet response. “If he comes over here, let me deal with him.”

Frank said nothing.

Now Marie had resumed her seat. Lieutenant Holzen, after glancing toward her, swept the room with his eyes. As he perceived Lord Hastings and his two officers, he clenched his hands and took a step forward.

For a moment Frank could see that he was plainly undecided just what to do; then the German hastily approached.

Frank gripped the table with both hands.

Before the three, Lieutenant Holzen paused. His eyes rested upon Frank.

“Last night,” he said, “when I was somewhat the worse for wear, you struck me. I demand either an apology or the satisfaction due from one gentleman to another.”

Lord Hastings answered for Frank.

“If my friend here has insulted you,” he said quietly, “it is but right that you should demand an accounting. We shall be here all evening. If you will send a friend to me, we shall arrange the details.”

The German bowed and Lord Hastings, Frank and Jack did likewise. Then turning on his heel, Lieutenant Holzen walked away.

Frank kept an eye on him and saw that the young German spent most of his time gazing at Marie. Looking in her direction, he was surprised to see the girl return the young officer’s smile. She nodded to him.

Frank mentioned the matter to Lord Hastings, and added:

“I don’t like it.”

“Ho! Ho!” laughed Jack. “So you are getting jealous, eh?”

Frank flushed.

“You know better than that,” he replied sharply. “I just don’t like it; that’s all.”

Suddenly, in response to a smile from Marie, Lieutenant Holzen arose and approached her. The music was about to commence and Frank realized what was going to happen. For some reason he could not explain to himself he felt decidedly uncomfortable and shifted uneasily in his seat.

Jack noticed this and was about to make a remark greatly to his chum’s discomfort, when Lord Hastings stayed him with a gesture.

“Quiet now,” he said, “and if I am not mistaken and you look sharp, you may see something interesting.”

The music struck up at this juncture and Marie and Lieutenant Holzen glided smoothly across the floor. Lord Hastings, Jack and Frank followed them with their eyes.

At last the music stopped. The young German escorted Marie back to her place and returned to his own table.

Time passed swiftly now for the three British officers. Again Marie danced with the young German officer, and yet a third time. But when he came for his fourth dance, she shook her head and inclined it toward Frank.

The latter had been watching her eagerly and this time he did not hesitate. Getting quickly to his feet he strode across the room and offered the girl his arm. A moment later the music struck up again and the two glided across the floor much to the discomfiture of the young German, who stood gnawing his mustache and fingering his sword belt.

Suddenly Frank felt the girl’s hand slide into his inside breast pocket and heard the faint crumple of paper. He was about to speak, but Marie silenced him with a warning: “Sh-h-h.”

Half a moment later she whispered:

“The papers you are after are in your pocket. I took them from Lieutenant Holzen as we danced.”

Frank made no reply, but he pressed slightly the fingers that rested so lightly in his own. It was a signal and the girl understood.

“Now go immediately,” she whispered, as the music came to a stop and Frank led her back to her place.

But first Frank must needs lean over her hand again to say good-bye.

“I shall see you again, some time,” he said.

Marie smiled, but said nothing. Frank returned to the others.

“I have the papers,” he said quietly to Lord Hastings.

“Good! I had surmised as much,” was his commander’s reply.

“She said that we had better go immediately,” said Frank.

“We can’t do that,” said Lord Hastings. “You may remember we have an appointment with a friend of Lieutenant Holzen.”

It was half an hour later that this friend approached them. Lord Hastings rose to greet him, as did Jack. Frank remained seated.

The newcomer introduced himself and Lord Hastings gave a fictitious name, also introducing Jack and Frank in the same manner. Then they went into details of the duel.

“As the challenged party,” said Lord Hastings, thinking to keep up appearances, “we have the choice of weapons.” The German bowed. “Then,” said Lord Hastings, “we name revolvers at twenty paces.”

“Good. And the time?”

Lord Hastings seemed to consider for a moment. At last he said:

“In the morning at six o’clock.”

“And the place?”

“That shall rest with you.”

The man designated a spot and Lord Hastings announced that it would be satisfactory. The German bowed and took his departure.

“Nothing like keeping up appearances, sir,” said Jack with a smile. “To have heard you talk, no one would have expected that you knew the duel was not coming off.”

“I flatter myself it wasn’t done so badly,” returned Lord Hastings modestly.

“And how soon shall we go, sir?” asked Frank. Lord Hastings produced his watch.

“Eight o’clock,” he said, putting the timepiece back in his pocket. “We haven’t much time, and yet we have considerable. I believe we had as well stay here until half-past. We can make it in that time.”

“As you will, sir,” returned Frank, and settled back in his chair to enjoy the music.

But his enjoyment of the music was to be short-lived. Trouble came suddenly and unexpectedly.

Frank, chancing to glance toward Lieutenant Holzen, saw that worthy put his hand to his breast pocket. Immediately his face turned red and he sprang to his feet. Hurriedly he thrust his hands into all his pockets. Then his face turned from red to white.

Frank nudged Lord Hastings.

“Holzen has discovered his loss, sir,” he said quietly. “Had we better move?”

Lord Hastings sat still.

“Too bad,” he said calmly. “I am afraid this means trouble. We’ll probably have to fight and run. Guns ready, boys.”

The lads dropped both hands to the holsters that hung on either side of their belts. They were ready.

“We’ll let him start the trouble,” said Lord Hastings quietly. “Then we’ll make a break for the door.”

Lieutenant Holzen was not long starting the trouble. He sprang to his feet with a shout.

“There are traitors and spies in this room!” he shouted.

CHAPTER VI.
FLIGHT.

Frank made a move to rise. Lord Hastings stayed him.

“Wait!” was all he said.

Immediately following Lieutenant Holzen’s words, there was a terrible commotion in the café. Officers jumped quickly to their feet. Several rushed to Lieutenant Holzen, who still stood there gesticulating wildly.

“Traitors! Spies!” he cried.

“Be calm,” said one of the officers. “Tell me what is the matter?”

“My papers!” shouted the young German. “My papers! The charts of the fortress! They are gone.”

“Impossible!” cried one of the others. “You must be mistaken. Look through your pockets again.”

“I looked through them!” was the shouted response. “See here! and here!” and he turned them all wrong side out.

“Perhaps you left them in your rooms,” said another officer.

“No. I brought them with me. I had them when I sat down.”

“But no one has come near you,” said one of his companions. “But wait a moment. You danced with Mlle. Dulcé. Could she have taken them? You danced with her several times; yet, on previous nights, I have noticed that she avoided you. It must be she.”

“Yes! It must be she!” cried Lieutenant Holzen. “Arrest her!”

Half-a-dozen men moved down the room toward where Marie Dulcé stood smiling. It was at that moment that Lord Hastings gave the signal to rise.

“Up and run for the door!” he cried. “Shoot the first man who draws a gun!”

He suited the action to the word, and the two lads were right behind him.

Before Lord Hastings loomed up the figure of a German colonel. The commander of the D-17 fired point-blank and the man fell to the floor. Lord Hastings dashed on.

Now Marie took a hand in things herself. As one of the Germans would have seized her, she stepped quickly backward and reached upward on the wall. There her hand found what she knew it would find—an electric switch. Quickly she threw it and the room was plunged into utter darkness.

Eluding the grasp of the man who reached for her in the darkness, Marie stepped quickly forward. Keeping close to the wall, she made her way toward the front door. On all sides men shouted and women screamed, but the girl went on calmly.

Occasional revolver flashes lighted up the darkness, but only momentarily.

Lord Hastings, reaching the door, found it barred by two men. Before he could bring his revolver to bear, an outstretched arm sent it spinning from his hand. Lord Hastings growled and struck out with his fist. An arm encircled his neck and held him powerless. At the same time a voice called out:

“I’ve got one of them!”

Jack, who was immediately behind his commander, although he could not see what was going on, realized from the German’s words what was up, and called out:

“Where are you, sir?”

“Here,” came the reply. “A man has me around the neck.”

Jack’s lips shut grimly, and, leaving Frank to guard their rear, he stepped quickly forward and laid his hand on a man’s arm.

“Have I hold of you, or the enemy, sir?” he asked quietly.

“Must be the German,” was the reply.

Jack ran his hand up the arm until he felt a face. Then he drew back his left arm and his fist crashed forward.

“All right,” said Lord Hastings. “You’ve dropped him.”

The second man who had blocked the doorway now closed in, but Jack disposed of him quickly. Shots came from behind, and Frank’s voice cried:

“Getting too warm, sir. Let’s move.”

“Come on, then,” said Jack.

He threw his weight against the door, and it crashed open. A moment later all three were in the street and running in the direction of the water.

A crowd of Germans poured from the café after them, and the crack of revolvers sounded like a rapid-fire gun in action.

“We’ll have to hurry!” cried Lord Hastings. “They’ll have the whole fortress on our heels in a moment.”

Directly the water front came into view.

“Here we are!” cried Lord Hastings. “Quick, now!”

He made directly toward the D-17’s motorboat, which he could see was where he had left it, but at that moment a figure blocked the way. It was a German sentinel, and his rifle was pointed squarely at Lord Hastings.

“Halt!” he said sternly.

Lord Hastings stopped in his tracks.

“What’s all the row back there?” demanded the sentry.

Lord Hastings would have replied, but Jack did not give him time.

Stepping suddenly from behind Lord Hastings, he dived at the German’s legs. He had gauged the distance accurately, and the two went to the ground violently. The sentry’s gun was discharged, but the bullet whistled harmlessly over Lord Hastings’s head.

“No time to fool with him, Jack!” cried Lord Hastings. “Here come the others. Hurry!”

Jack raised his opponent’s head in his two hands, then bumped it against the ground.

“There,” he said, rising, “that’ll keep him for a while.”

He hurried after the others, who had jumped into the boat.

“Cut the line there—quick!” commanded Lord Hastings.

Frank obeyed just as Jack tumbled aboard.

“All right, sir. All here,” said the latter.

“Good,” said Lord Hastings.

The boat moved off, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

By the time the German pursuers had reached the water’s edge, the boat was beyond revolver shot, though still within range of rifles.

“Down!” cried Lord Hastings, as a bullet whistled overhead.

The others obeyed.

“They’ll be after us, sir!” shouted Frank.

“They’ll have to hurry if they want to catch us,” declared Lord Hastings.

“Say! What time is it?” asked Frank suddenly.

“Why?” demanded his chum.

“Why,” repeated Frank, “because if we get out here before nine o’clock we might just as well stay ashore. Price will not come to the surface until nine sharp.”

By the flare of a match he struck, Jack gazed at his watch.

“No need to worry there, then,” he said. “It’s three minutes to nine right now.”

“Pretty lucky,” said Frank.

“Rather,” commented Lord Hastings dryly. “Look back and see if they are following us.”

“Yes, sir, twenty of them,” replied Frank, after a glance over his shoulder.

“Well, we’ll have time, unless they are armed with cannon,” said Lord Hastings. “All we need is to get aboard the D-17. Rifle shots won’t hurt us then.”

Rifle bullets continued to fly over and about the motorboat, one occasionally striking home. But none of the occupants was touched.

“We must be about the place,” said Frank suddenly.

“About a minute more,” responded Lord Hastings.

The minute up, Lord Hastings shut off the engine. They gazed about.

“If Price doesn’t come up pretty quick, we’ll have to run for it,” said the commander quietly. “It’s time now.”

“He’ll be up unless something has gone wrong,” said Jack positively.

“Unless he’s gone to sleep,” declared Frank.

“Well, I wish he’d hurry,” said Jack. “We can’t remain here many minutes longer. They are getting too close.”

“So they are,” agreed Lord Hastings. “We’ll wait thirty seconds, then, if there is not some sign of the D-17, we’ll move. We’ll make a fight for it, at any rate.”

The seconds ticked off slowly; and then, just as Lord Hastings was ready to open the engine, the waters of the sea parted and the neat outline of the D-17 appeared upon the surface.

A moment later the conning tower opened and Price stepped on deck. The submarine was perhaps fifty yards away, and Lord Hastings ran the motorboat toward it at full speed.

“Here we are, Price!” he called.

“All right, sir?”

“All right, but pursued. Below with you, and be ready to submerge the minute we are below.”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

Price disappeared.

A moment later the motorboat scraped alongside the submarine, and the three clambered over the side as fast as they could amid a veritable rain of bullets, none of which, however, found its mark.

“Down with you, quick!” shouted Lord Hastings.

Frank and Jack dashed for the companionway at top speed, Lord Hastings right behind them. Down the ladder they went with a rush, and the conning tower was hermetically closed behind them.

“Submerge to ten fathoms, and quickly, Mr. Templeton!” said Lord Hastings quietly.

Jack repeated the command, slowly the tanks began to fill, and the D-17 to submerge, the while the occupants of the motorboats without peppered the side of the vessel with rifle and revolver bullets.

“Shall I launch a torpedo at them, sir?” asked Frank.

Lord Hastings shook his head.

“Not much use,” he said. “You might hit one, and you might not. It’s not worth a chance. But we haven’t any time to lose now. They know we’re here, and the quicker we get out the better. They’ll have every German submarine in these waters on the hunt for us. Fortunately, we have the heels of any of them, and we can still see while submerged. They don’t know that; so, for the moment, the advantage is on our side.”

“But, sir,” protested Jack, “how about the other part of our plans here?”

“What?” demanded Lord Hastings.

“Warship, or two, sir,” said Jack.

“True,” said Lord Hastings. “I had forgotten. Shape your course due north for two miles, Mr. Templeton; then come to the surface.”

He turned to Frank and spoke again:

“We’ll leave our card, at any rate,” he said quietly. “You may prepare for action, Mr. Chadwick!”

CHAPTER VII.
THE ATTACK.

An instant later every man aboard the D-17 was on the alert. Lord Hastings stood at the periscope, which, immediately the submarine had reached the desired place, would make visible to him the great German battleships upon the surface of the water.

Frank and Jack stood to their posts, ready and eager for the word that would send one of the steel engines of destruction speeding into the hull of the enemy.

There was not a man aboard who did not realize that they were indeed in a ticklish situation; for, besides the danger that always attended such an undertaking, there was the additional danger now of encountering one or more of the German under-water boats.

Nor was there a chance of a surprise attack. Lord Hastings was well aware that the presence of a hostile submarine had been flashed to every German battleship in the harbor.

Above, the sea was being swept with powerful searchlights, while below the under-sea craft of the Germans were dashing hither and thither in a vain endeavor to find some trace of the enemy who had so brazenly dared to enter what the Germans believed an impenetrable base.

Lord Hastings now turned to Jack with a command:

“You may come to the surface, Mr. Templeton.”

Jack repeated the command with alacrity; and when the D-17 had risen so that her periscope barely protruded above the top of the water, she was kept stationary.

“What do you see, sir?” asked Frank of Lord Hastings, who now peered intently into the periscope.

“German battleship half a mile to port and another half a mile astern,” was the reply. “The others are too far away for us, although they might reach us with a shell if their lights should happen to pick us up. We’ll make for the fellow to port and trust to luck that we get near enough without being spotted.”

He gave the necessary directions to Frank, who had taken the wheel.

Fortune was with the D-17 this night, for the submarine approached within less than a hundred and fifty yards of the German battleship without being perceived. There, at a command from Lord Hastings, she became stationary.

“No. 1 torpedo!” commanded Lord Hastings suddenly, and gave the range.

Jack touched a little button, and the signal board flashed red.

“Attention!” was the next command that glowed in letters of fire.

The British sailor at No. 1 torpedo stood ready to release his instrument of destruction.

There was a slight pause. Then:

“Fire!”

Followed a slight metallic click as the engine of death sped on its way over the water.

Contrary to the expectations of the others, Lord Hastings did not immediately give the command to submerge. Instead, he stood perfectly motionless, peering into the periscope. There was silence aboard the D-17, broken finally by Frank, who could stand the suspense no longer:

“Did we hit her, sir?”

For answer, Lord Hastings stepped aside and motioned the lad to his place at the periscope. Frank, turning the wheel over to a sailor, sprang forward quickly. And here is what he saw:

A short distance to port, a huge German battleship was slowly sinking by the head. Fully half a hundred great searchlights—the eyes of the many other German ships of war—played upon the sinking vessel now, lighting her up like day. Movements aboard the sinking vessel were plainly visible to Frank.

Men rushed hither and thither in the greatest confusion, and while Frank could hear no sounds there below the water, there was every indication of shouts and cries of panic and of fright.

An officer rushed aft and sought to maintain some semblance of order among the members of the crew who were seeking to get a small boat over the side at that end of the ship. A German sailor struck him down with a blow of his fist and returned to his place at the boat.

Men struggled frantically. The German officer picked himself up and drew a revolver; then advanced again upon the sailors. One sprang forward, but fell sprawling upon the deck. No sound came to Frank, but he knew that the German officer had fired.

One, two, three others of the struggling sailors now fell before the revolver of the infuriated German officer; the others gave back. Frank saw the man gesticulating angrily; and the sailors fell to getting the boat over in a more orderly manner, apparently more afraid of the officer who confronted them with leveled revolver than they were of the imminent danger of the ship going to the bottom.

Forward, aboard the German battleship also were signs of confusion. There, too, officers had their hands full in attempting to maintain discipline. Several times one of their number fired into the faces of the crowd of sailors.

Suddenly the great German ship staggered visibly and a dull roar carried to the ears of those aboard the D-17.

“Explosion,” Frank explained to those behind him.

“Fire aboard must have reached her magazine,” said Lord Hastings.

And indeed such was the case. When the great ship staggered there was a terrible roar, louder than the loudest peal of thunder. Ensued a greater panic than before aboard the German vessel.

No longer did men fight for the boats. No longer did they heed the cries of their officers to stick to the ship and die like true German sailors. Instead, they rushed for the rails and threw themselves into the sea in scores. Several times officers rushed in between them, but they were hurled aside. It was every man for himself now, and finally the officers gave up the attempt to check the panic.

As the sailors continued to leap into the sea, the officers congregated on the bridge, gathering about a tall figure, apparently the German commander.

And at length, besides these officers, there was not a man to be seen aboard the battleship. Then the commander raised his hand in a commanding gesture. A dozen of the score of officers left him and threw themselves into the sea after the sailors.

Another command from the German captain and others left his side, though plainly more reluctantly. This continued until, besides the commander, there were but two men left.

“His first officers, I suppose,” Frank muttered to himself.

Again the German commander gesticulated angrily. The others argued back. The commander stamped his foot. One of the officers laid a hand on his arm. The commander shook it off.

“They want him to go along,” said Frank, who had already explained the situation to Lord Hastings and the others within hearing.

“They are wasting time,” said Lord Hastings. “I know these German naval commanders.”

Frank peered across the water again.

Now both of the officers had hold of the commander and were seeking to drag him toward the side of the ship. Apparently they held him firmly, for Frank could see that he was trying hard to shake off their hands. But he was held too securely.

Even from where he stood, Frank could see the commander shrug his shoulders. Immediately the other officers released their hold. All moved toward the side.

“You’re wrong this time, sir,” said Frank to Lord Hastings. “The commander is going.”

“I don’t believe it,” was the reply.

“Well, he is, sir. He——”

Frank broke off suddenly, for there were new developments aboard the sinking battleship.

At the very side of the ship the commander hung back. The other officers protested. The captain was adamant. Again the others sought to seize him by the arms. But the commander had anticipated this action, and he leaped lightly backward, at the same time presenting a brace of revolvers. The others halted in their tracks.

Now the commander motioned the others over the side, gesticulating with his weapons. The others shook their heads. The commander raised both revolvers and pointed each at one of his officers. Still they shook their heads.

“By Jove!” said Frank. “There are three of them going to stick now!”

“He shouldn’t allow that,” said Lord Hastings. “He is still the commander of the vessel. He has the privilege of staying if he chooses, but he should order the others off the ship.”

“He has, sir, but they refuse to go.”

“Then he should insist.”

“He’s even threatened them, sir. But they won’t go.”

“Well, it’s their funeral,” said Lord Hastings briefly.

The German commander had now given up his attempt to force the others to leave the ship; and the three men stood quietly upon the bridge, awaiting the end.

And it came suddenly.

The German battleship suddenly seemed to leap clear of the water—the result of a second explosion, the sound of which was again barely audible to those aboard the D-17—and came down in twain. The afterpart of the vessel disappeared beneath the water almost immediately, but in some unaccountable manner, the portion forward still floated. It was upon this that the three officers stood.

Each man stood erect, his face tilted a trifle toward the sky. The huge flashlights from the other vessels in the harbor lighted them up plainly, and Frank could see that each of the three was smiling.

Slowly now what was left of the battleship sank, the center of a broad circle of brilliancy. Down, down. Now the water had reached almost to the bridge. Now the officers stood in water up to their knees. Then the wreck dived.

Frank relinquished his place at the periscope to Lord Hastings, remarking:

“Well, she’s gone; and three brave men with her.”

There was no reply to this remark.

Suddenly the water close to the D-17 splashed violently. Lord Hastings looked about sharply. Again the water was kicked up, this time on the starboard how.

“They’ve spotted us,” said the commander of the D-17. “Every ship in the fleet is bearing down on us. Submerge to five fathoms, Mr. Templeton.”

Jack repeated the command and the D-17 dived.

“Now what, sir?” asked Frank.

“It’s too risky to tackle any more of them,” was the reply. “We’ll make for the Kiel Canal.”

“The Kiel Canal?”

“Yes; we are headed for the Baltic.”

“But——” began Frank.

“You will do well to remember,” said Lord Hastings, “that sometimes I keep my plans to myself.”

CHAPTER VIII.
IN THE BALTIC.

“Great Scott! What was that?”

It was Frank who spoke. He picked himself up from where he had been thrown by a violent shock and rubbed his head ruefully, glancing at Lord Hastings quietly the while.

Lord Hastings also had been hurled against the side of his cabin, as had Jack, who also was now regaining his feet.

Lord Hastings’ reply was brief, and it was not an answer to Frank’s question.

“Submerge quickly, Mr. Templeton!” he ordered.

Jack gave the command.

Lord Hastings stepped to the tube that connected with the engine room. A voice came back to him.

“Hello?” it said.

“Any damage to the engines, Jarvis?” asked Lord Hastings.

“None, sir,” was the reply.

“Anybody hurt?”

“No one but me. Head bruised a bit, sir, by being thrown against the boiler. Nothing serious, sir.”

“All right.”

Lord Hastings stepped from the tube.

“Now,” he said to Frank, “I’ll answer your question. While I can’t say for sure, my guess would be that, in rising, we came up under an ice floe or an iceberg. That would account for the shock.”

“By Jove!” Jack ejaculated. “I hadn’t thought of such a thing.”

“Nor had I,” said Lord Hastings, “but I should have thought of it. At this time of year it is no uncommon thing for large icebergs to be floating about in the Baltic. I am sure that is what is wrong.”

“Then what shall we do, sir?”

“Well, we’ll have to run on a ways. When we are from beneath the berg, we shall try again to get to the surface.”

He gave the signal for ten knots ahead.

The D-17 had passed through the Kiel Canal without difficulty, in spite of the German belief that such a feat was impossible; and this German belief persisted in spite of the fact that Lord Hastings and his two young officers had performed such a feat once before—and the Germans were aware of it. Apparently, however, the enemy was confident a second attempt would never be made.

It was a long time ago now that the perilous trip had been made, but all three remembered it well. They had spoken of it often as the submarine made its way along slowly, a keen lookout being kept forward for mines or other obstructions.

Half an hour later Lord Hastings decided that the D-17 must have passed from under the iceberg, or whatever it was that had barred the vessel’s attempt to come to the surface.

“We’ll try it again, now,” he said briefly.

In response to his commands the pumps began to work very slowly, for Lord Hastings had no mind to crash into an obstruction with the same force as before.

“The vessel might stand it and it might not,” he explained as his reason for his caution. “There is no need testing the strength of our shell unless absolutely necessary.”

“Don’t you think she could force her way through, sir?” asked Jack.

“It all depends,” was his commander’s rejoinder. “It depends upon the thickness of the ice above.”

The D-17 rose gradually; then, with a slight grating sound, she paused suddenly.

“Bumped it again,” said Frank.

Lord Hastings nodded.

“Must be quite an iceberg,” was Jack’s comment.

“Unless the sea is frozen over solidly for a considerable distance,” supplemented Lord Hastings.

“But that could hardly be,” protested Frank.

“Oh, yes, it could. It has happened more than once; and for that reason it may possibly happen—or have happened—again.”

“Then what is our next move, sir?” asked Jack.

“We’ll proceed under water a ways and then try again. If we don’t come up next time, we’ll try and force our way to the surface. We’ve got to get up for a look around, and the sooner the better. The ice is likely to grow thicker with each succeeding minute.”

Again the D-17 proceeded under water for perhaps half an hour and then Lord Hastings announced his intention of trying to rise.

The result this time was the same. After ascending several fathoms, the submarine encountered ice and stopped.

“Well, there is no help for it,” said Lord Hastings. “We’ll have to try and break through. Submerge to ten fathoms, Mr. Templeton.”

Jack repeated the command and the D-17 dived deeper. At the proper depth, the vessel’s course was checked. Then Lord Hastings ordered that the craft be brought to the surface with as much force as possible.

The water was sent from the tanks with a rush and the D-17 seemed to leap upward. A few moments later there was a violent shock and all aboard were thrown from their feet. The submarine had failed to break through.

“Again!” cried Lord Hastings and gave the signal to submerge.

A second attempt met with no better result and Lord Hastings immediately commanded a third trial.

“We’ll have to get through now or we’ll probably drown,” he said quietly. “I am afraid we have strained our seams. We’ll need an overhauling immediately we put into Petrograd—if we are fortunate enough to get there.”

“And what do you suppose has happened to our periscope?” demanded Frank.

“Oh, that has been smashed to bits before now,” said Lord Hastings quietly. “However, we can rig up another one if it is necessary before we get to port.”

“All ready for the next trial, sir,” Jack put in at this juncture. “We are down five fathoms.”

“All right. Let her go,” replied his commander.

This time the D-17 rose even more swiftly than before. Again there was a violent shock, followed by a crashing sound; and then the submarine floated clear.

“Hoorah! We’re up, sir,” shouted Frank.

“Don’t crow too soon,” was the reply. “We may be up, but there is no telling yet what condition we are in. We’ll go on deck.”

Lord Hastings led the way and the two lads followed closely behind him.

Outside a strange sight met their gaze. To the north, to the south and to the east and west, as far as the eye could reach, there was nothing but ice. True, it was broken in places, but it was none the less ice. The D-17 was hemmed in closely on all sides.

Jack expressed the sentiments of the others with a long whistle.

“Now, what do you think of that?” he said.

“I think it’s pretty tough, if you are talking to me,” was Frank’s reply. “We can’t push through that.”

“No; and we can’t stay here and wait for it to thaw,” declared his chum.

“Well, then what?” asked Frank.

Lord Hastings, who had not spoken up to this moment, now broke his silence and said:

“Never give up the ship, boys. While there’s life, there’s hope.”

“And have you a plan of some kind, sir?” asked Jack eagerly.

“Well, I have something that might be called a plan. If you look closely you will see that a hundred yards ahead there, there is what appears to be a lane—where the ice is broken. Do you see it?”

“Yes, sir,” replied both lads in a single voice. “But the ice between the D-17 and that spot is solid.”

“So it is. What we shall do is to dive, shape our course for that particular point and try to come to the surface there.”

“And what good will that do, sir?” demanded Frank. “The chances are that the ice beyond that point is just as thick as it is here.”

“We’ll find that out when we get there,” said Lord Hastings. “Let’s go below.”

They did so. The conning tower was immediately sealed, and the submarine submerged to a depth necessary to avoid any points of ice that might be likely to protrude beneath the water.

Lord Hastings had gauged the distance accurately, and when he again gave the command to come to the surface, the D-17 rose gently, pushing the loosely formed ice to both sides as her nose appeared from the deep. Lord Hastings and his two young officers immediately went on deck again.

“By Jove!” said Frank after a quick glance around. “The ice doesn’t seem to be so thick dead ahead.”

“You see,” said Lord Hastings with a smile, “a little perseverance will go a long ways sometimes. Now, according to your reasoning awhile back, there was really no use in trying to reach this spot. But now that we are here you see still further hope. Remember that there is always a fighting chance, no matter how great the odds against you.”

“I’ll remember, sir,” replied Frank.

“I hope you will. Now we’ll try our luck at forcing a passage through the ice.”

“In what way, sir?” asked Jack.

Lord Hastings’ next words were explanation enough.

“Full speed ahead!” he ordered.

In response to the command, the D-17 dashed straight at the ice ahead. Her sharp, steel nose plowed into it with violence, and the ice, thick though it was, parted and the D-17 edged through as swiftly as could be expected.

“By Jove! I didn’t think she’d do it, sir,” Jack exclaimed.

Lord Hastings smiled a bit.

“I am not sure that she can keep it up without straining something,” he said. “But it is better to be on the move than lying still. The ice won’t part for us of its own free will, that’s sure.”

Still the D-17 plowed slowly along; and then, perhaps half a mile from the starting point, she stopped.

“Back her and try again,” was Lord Hastings’ command.

This was done and again the vessel made headway. This process was repeated time after time; and some five hours later, those upon deck made out clear water beyond, though there was a considerable expanse of ice to penetrate.

Undaunted, Lord Hastings continued to force the D-17 against the apparently impenetrable barrier; and at last the D-17 broke clear.

Lord Hastings gave a sigh of relief.

“Now for Petrograd at full speed,” he said. “We’ll have a look over the ship as we go along. There is no need stopping to do it here. Every minute may be precious. Take the wheel, Mr. Chadwick, while I make a tour of inspection.”

Frank did so, and Lord Hastings turned to Jack with this command:

“Full speed ahead, Mr. Templeton!”

CHAPTER IX.
ASHORE.

In spite of the fact that, upon investigation, Lord Hastings found the D-17 leaking in several places, serious trouble in the engine room and other minor wounds suffered in her battle with the ice, the submarine made Petrograd safely and under her own steam.

It was broad daylight of the following day when the vessel sighted land. At the same time a Russian man-o’-war, sighting the D-17, immediately cleared for action and gave a signal for the submarine to heave-to. Lord Hastings obeyed and a launch put over the side and came toward the D-17. A few moments later Lord Hastings and a Russian officer were closeted in the former’s cabin aboard the submarine. When they emerged, the D-17 proceeded.

Several hours later found Lord Hastings, Frank and Jack ashore, the D-17 having been turned over to the Russian naval authorities for repair. It was found that it would be necessary to put the craft in dry dock and this meant that several weeks must elapse before the submarine could be put in commission again.

“And what are we going to do all that time, I’d like to know?” said Frank, plainly disappointed.

“Well, we might look about Petrograd a bit,” said Jack with a faint smile.

“Hold on there,” said Lord Hastings. “I intend keeping an eye on you fellows this time. You may remember the trouble you had on your last trip here. Nothing more like that if I can help it.”

“I am afraid we won’t have much of a time this trip,” said Frank.

“You are afraid you won’t, eh?” repeated Lord Hastings. “Well, I’m in hopes you won’t, and neither will you if there is anything I can do to prevent it. To tell the truth, I am half way inclined to have you both locked up for safe keeping, until the time comes for us to sail.”

“Oh, we’ll be good, sir,” said Frank.

“You will, you may be sure of that,” returned Lord Hastings. “If you’re not, you may take my word that I will have something done with you.”

“And now, sir,” said Jack, “will you not tell us something of the nature of the reason for this sudden trip to Russia?”

“You’ll learn soon enough,” was the reply. “I don’t suppose you would have any objections to paying your respects to the Czar?”

“Not the slightest, sir,” said Frank with a smile. “I remember once when Jack paid his respects in a manner he did not wish.”

“Yes; I remember that, too,” agreed his chum.

“I have no doubt that the Czar will be glad to see you again,” said Lord Hastings. “He will remember he probably owes his life to you, Jack.”

Jack flushed.

“I hope you will not remind him of it, sir,” he replied.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” declared Lord Hastings.

Nor was it, as events transpired; and it was in this audience of the Czar that the boys learned the reason for their trip to Russia.

The Czar received Lord Hastings and his officers the moment their names were presented. When the three entered his presence, he arose quickly and came forward with extended hand.

“Why, my lord,” he exclaimed, “I had hardly expected to see you again so soon.” He turned to the two lads. “And these,” he added, “are your two young officers who were with you before. Ah, I remember. It is to them I owe my life.”

He extended a hand to each and both lads flushed. Jack, the subject of a monarch himself, dropped to one knee; but Frank, who recognized no monarch, bowed low, and remained on his feet. The Czar signalled Jack to rise and then turned to Lord Hastings.

“Am I to consider this just a friendly call, or have you anything to impart to me?” he asked.

“Both, your Majesty,” replied Lord Hastings gravely. “I may as well come to the point of my mission at once.”

“Do,” said the Czar briefly.

“Very well. What I have to say is this: In your service—and in high standing and authority—is a man who is a traitor—a man who has sold out to our common foe, the Germans.”

“So?” said the Czar, apparently no whit surprised. “His name, if you please.”

“His name,” said Lord Hastings with a faint smile, “will surprise you. I fear you will find it hard to believe; and had I not the proof of the man’s duplicity, I should not have the courage to mention the man.”

Evidently Lord Hastings’ words made an impression upon the Czar. He stirred uneasily.

“Come, come,” he said. “The man’s name. Out with it, my Lord.”

“His name,” said Lord Hastings very gravely, “is Count Stephan Blowinski!”

“What!” roared the Czar, leaping from his seat. “Count Blowinski! The chief of the Russian secret police! Impossible, Lord Hastings. I would stake my life and throne upon his integrity, my lord.”

“Then you would lose both, sire,” said Lord Hastings gravely.

“But it cannot be!” protested the Czar of all the Russias. “Count Blowinski has been, almost, my right hand. He has served me well.”

“It is none the less true that he is a traitor,” replied Lord Hastings.

Realizing that Lord Hastings was in deadly earnest, the Czar became more calm.

“You must be mistaken, my lord,” he said quietly.

“Would that I were, your Majesty. But I am not. I have the proof here in my pocket,” and he tapped his breast.

“Then let me have it!” exclaimed the Czar. “Let me have it, man! I must know the truth of this matter at once.”

Quietly and without another word Lord Hastings unbuttoned his coat and from his inside pocket took a small packet, which he placed in the outstretched hand of the Czar. Then he sat back and eyed the Czar keenly.

The Czar broke the tape that bound the package with nervous fingers, shook out the papers as nervously and cast his eyes upon the words they contained. For long minutes he pored over the several documents, his brow becoming blacker and blacker; and at last he raised his head and said:

“You are right, my lord. Nothing further than these papers are needed to convince me of Count Blowinski’s treachery.”

Lord Hastings bowed quietly, and the Czar, again glancing at the papers, became lost in his thoughts.

“So,” he muttered to himself, “you are a traitor, eh? You, whom I have treated like a brother and whom I have showered with honors. You would betray me to the Germans. Well, you should know how we deal with traitors.” He turned to Lord Hastings. “I have to thank you, my lord,” he said. “I shall deal with this traitor at once.”

“Sire!” exclaimed Lord Hastings, “if I may be permitted to say a word.”

“Speak,” said the Czar briefly.

“Then, sire, I would suggest that you do not act hastily in this matter.”

“And why?” demanded the Russian ruler.

“Because, sire, the Count Blowinski undoubtedly has a strong following. He will not be deposed so easily as you imagine. If you execute him summarily, there is no telling what may result—revolution, anarchy—no man can tell. Let the man convict himself in the eyes of the people—or in his own eyes and put an end to himself.”

For the space of several moments the Czar was silent, considering. When he raised his eyes again, Lord Hastings knew that his better judgment would prevail.

“You are right, my lord,” said the Czar quietly. “Count Blowinski has indeed a large following, though it is my own fault that he has. I have enabled him to obtain it. Why, even now he is in Moscow attending to details of a campaign I have planned that, should it be successful, would be one of the greatest steps toward ending the war that has been taken.”

“And I have no doubt that he is attending to it—in his own way,” said Lord Hastings grimly.

“No doubt whatever,” agreed the Czar with a faint smile. “But now what’s to be done?”

“The thing to do,” said Lord Hastings, “is to catch him in an act of treason; then expose him.”

“Easily said,” returned the Czar. “But how?”

“I may be able to help with an idea,” said Lord Hastings, and continued: “Why not set a man to watch him. Let this man come beneath his eye in some peculiar manner, say, apparently as a German spy himself. Have him arrested by the count’s own men and then let a demand that he see the count, reach the traitor’s ears. Thinking that there has been some word sent him, Blowinski will see the man. Then this man will invent a plausible story, that he may ingratiate himself with the count. Such a story should not be hard to concoct. The rest would be a question of time only. Learning just when the count planned to take his final step, the man could communicate with you and when the time for this step came, you, knowing what he was about to do, would hold the whip hand.”

“A clever idea,” declared the Czar after some consideration, “if I could but lay hands upon the man. He must be one who speaks German like a native German and one whom the count could never, by any chance, have seen before. If I could only find a man equal to such a task!”

“Or men, or boys, sire,” said Frank boldly.

The Czar and Lord Hastings both whirled upon him.

“What is that?” demanded the Czar.

“I mean, sire,” said Frank, flushing slightly, “that my chum here and I would be only too glad to undertake such a mission. I am sure that we come up to requirements.”

“Impossible!” declared Lord Hastings.

But the Czar had been eyeing the two lads keenly.

“Not at all,” he said in reply to Lord Hastings’ remark. “Not at all, my lord. If I can satisfy myself that these young fellows could do the work, I would ask you for their services.”

“Well, I am forced to say they could do the work possibly better than any others,” Lord Hastings grudgingly admitted. “In fact, I know it. But I would hate to lose them.”

“But you are not going to lose them,” declared the Czar. “If they are as smart as I think they are, they will come through with this thing famously.”

“Indeed we will, sire,” declared Jack.

“Good,” laughed the Czar. He turned again to Lord Hastings. “My lord,” he said, “I crave your permission for the use of these two officers of yours upon the mission you have suggested.”

“I am loath to part with them, your Majesty,” Lord Hastings replied.

“But for the cause?” inquired the Czar softly. “For the cause.”

Lord Hastings bowed his head.

“For our cause,” he replied, “I would do much. I cannot deny you, sire.”

CHAPTER X.
COUNT BLOWINSKI.

“You are sure now that you know exactly what to do?” asked Czar Nicholas of the two lads several hours later.

“Perfectly, your Majesty,” said Frank with a bow.

“We have our instructions well memorized, sire,” Jack agreed.

“Very well. Now if you will step into the next room you will find clothing laid out for you. I have seen to all arrangements while you were discussing details with Lord Hastings.”

“And you say the papers that are to be found on us are concealed in the lining of the coats, sir?” asked Jack.

“Yes; I had them prepared hurriedly, but they will pass muster. They are identical; so, when the count finds them, he will believe, as I wish him to believe, that they were sent in duplicate that he might be sure of getting one if the other was caught.”

“And we are not to know the contents, sire?”

“It is not necessary,” was the reply. “You will shape your course according to events as they transpire. First, you must get into the good graces of the count.”

“We’ll try, sire,” said Jack.

The two lads stepped into the next room, where, as the Czar had said, two suits of clothing were laid out. The garments caused the lads no little wonder that they could have been procured so readily. Of coarse weave, they were, nevertheless, of unmistakable German pattern, when examined closely. There was no hint of Russian manufacture about them.

Dressed and ready, they returned to where the Czar and Lord Hastings awaited them.

“All ready, sire,” said Jack.

The Czar nodded. Walking to a little cabinet at the far end of the room, he returned with two wicked looking automatics. He extended one to each lad.

“A present from my kingly cousin, Kaiser Wilhelm,” he said. “May they stand you in good stead. Now, you are sure that you understand the situation perfectly?”

The lads nodded.

“Good, then. Now, I will not tell you how I shall arrange for you to be picked up by Count Blowinski. You will know in due season. All you have to do is to board the night express for Moscow. It is now dark and the train will not leave for another hour. You have plenty of time, and money for your tickets you will find in your pockets. When events have shaped themselves so that you know there will be no chance of a slip, you will let me know in some manner. Trust no agents. I leave the way to you.”

The Czar extended a hand to each lad.

“Good luck to you both,” he said simply.

The lads bowed and then made their way from the palace, leaving Lord Hastings behind, for it had been agreed that he should not be seen with them. They had secured directions to the railroad station and once outside the palace they turned their footsteps in that direction and walked along slowly.

“This train doesn’t reach Moscow until morning,” said Frank, “so we shall be able to get all the rest we need en route. I am curious to know just how we are to fall in with the esteemed count.”

“So am I,” Jack agreed, “but I guess the Emperor of all the Russias has a few strings he can pull without any one being the wiser. The thing that troubles me is, will we be able to fool the count?”

“It’s our business to see that we do,” was Frank’s reply. “By the way, talking about the count, do you know that I think a whole lot of this gun the Czar gave me? I wouldn’t want to lose it.”

“Think you could hit anything with it?” queried Jack with a smile.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t miss very far.”

“I agree with you. Having seen you shoot a time or two, I am willing to lay a small wager you will come pretty close to anything you aim at. They are pretty weapons, and that’s a fact.”

“I am in hopes I don’t have to use it,” said Frank seriously, “but I can tell by the feel of it that it is to be depended on. Yes, it’s a pretty handy pocket piece.”

“Here we are at the station,” said Jack at this juncture. “In the future we’ll do all our talking in German or French—French while we believe we are among friends, and German at other times. English is dangerous.”

Frank nodded his understanding.

“I’ll get the tickets,” he said.

He took from his pocket a roll of bills and extracted one he felt sure—he couldn’t tell positively for he knew almost nothing of Russian money—was sufficient to pay for two tickets, and approaching the window said “Two to Moscow” in French. The agent passed out the tickets and Frank tendered the bill. He accepted what change was passed to him without a word and inquired the way to the train. After some little trouble they found themselves in a second-class compartment and settled back in their seats as comfortably as possible.

“And here we shall stay until we get to Moscow,” said Jack. “Then, if something hasn’t turned up, we’ll go straight to the best hotel. We may trust the Czar not to lose sight of us.”

Frank nodded.

“Best plan, I guess,” he agreed.

A short time later the train started. The two lads, much to their relief, found they were to have no fellow travelers in their compartment. They conversed in low tones until the conductor came for their tickets, but once that worthy had taken his departure, Frank said:

“Well, it’s a long ride, and not knowing what is in store for us at the other end, I vote we try and catch forty winks.”

“I’m with you,” declared Jack.

They settled themselves comfortably and closed their eyes. Five minutes later, as the train sped on in the darkness, they slept peacefully, utterly oblivious of the danger they were in or of what the morrow might bring forth.

How long they slept neither lad could tell, but it seemed to each that he had hardly closed his eyes when he was awakened by loud voices without. Both were awake instantly and as instantly each recognized the fact that the train was at a standstill. Light streamed through the window.

“Must be Moscow,” muttered Jack.

“Right you are,” Frank agreed. “But why all this fuss on the outside.”

“I don’t know why nor what,” said Jack. “If they would only talk a white man’s language we might learn what it is all about.”

“Or German,” Frank agreed.

At this moment the door to their compartment was thrown rudely open and a uniformed figure—that of a colonel of cavalry—appeared in the doorway.

Jack drew himself up.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded in French. “Why do you force your way into our compartment?”

“That,” said the officer, also in French, “you will learn in good time. You are under arrest.”

“Arrest!” cried Frank. “And what for?”

“All in good time, all in good time,” said the officer with a deprecating gesture. “Out here with you.”

“See here,” protested Jack, “I wish you to understand that you are talking to two French gentlemen, allies of Russia in this critical stage, and I must insist that you be more choice in your words.”

“So?” queried the Russian with an evil leer. “Just to put a stop to all this foolishness, I may as well tell you that I know you for what you are. You are both German spies.”

“Spies?” echoed Frank. “I assure you, sir——”

“It’s no use,” declared the Russian. “You have been followed for days now. We were warned of your approach and instructed to arrest you both on sight. You will come with me now, without further talk.”

Jack said a few words in an aside to Frank. Immediately the Russian officer produced a pair of revolvers, with which he covered the two lads.

“No foolishness,” he said quietly. “I have a squad of my men out here. Will you come out, or must I use force?”

“I assure you you are making a grave mistake,” declared Jack, “but rather than cause unpleasantness, we shall come with you until we are able to prove our identities.”

“You are sensible, sir,” returned the officer quietly. “Alight, please.”

Jack stepped from the compartment first and Frank directly behind him. Outside, a squad of half-a-dozen men surrounded them and they were marched away. They walked down several streets and turned in toward a rather handsome appearing building. Here they were led before a figure attired in the uniform of a Russian general.

This officer heard the report of his subordinate and then commanded:

“Relieve them of what weapons they may have.”

An officer felt through their pockets and removed the revolvers so recently given them by the Czar. Then the general ordered:

“Lock them up and see that they are kept safely.”

Again the lads were marched down a long corridor, then down a flight of long steps into inky blackness; thence along another corridor and finally into a low and narrow cell. Here they were locked in and the officer and his men withdrew.

“Nice place this,” said Frank, after their captor had taken his departure.

“Rather,” agreed Jack dryly. “Doesn’t look to me as though we were going to get very far with this mission.”

“Come now,” said Frank, “you don’t mean to tell me you don’t see through this?”

“See through what?” demanded Jack. “This darkness? Couldn’t any one see through it.”

“Oh, no,” said Frank. “I mean our arrest and imprisonment.”

“Of course I see through it,” said Jack. “We’ve been spotted and the count has had us caught. Must be a leak in the Czar’s palace some place.”

Frank laughed.

“I should say things are working out first rate,” he said calmly.

“Oh, you would. Maybe you can explain it to me then.”

“Easily. This is part of the Czar’s plan. Now, if I am not greatly mistaken, it won’t be long before our friend, the count, shows up to see whether we are really spies; and if he is convinced we are, he’ll want to hold a conversation with us.”

“By Jove! I believe you’re right,” declared Jack. “In that event we must make the count believe we are spies of the first water. I hope we don’t have long to wait.”

They didn’t.

Half an hour later they heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Their jailer approached, followed by a huge stature of a man with a long flowing black beard.

“Open the cell door,” commanded the big man.

“Bet four cents that’s the count,” Frank whispered very gently.

CHAPTER XI.
THE COUNT EXPLAINS HIS PLANS.

The lad was right.

“Open that cell door,” commanded the big man again.

The other made no reply, but a key grated in the lock. The big man entered the cell, then turned upon the man who had unlocked the door.

“Leave us!” he commanded sternly. “Have no fear,” he added hastily, as he saw the man was about to protest. “I have my revolver here,” and he tapped his belt. “I can handle these two.”

The man made no further objection, but departed.

The count whirled upon the two lads.

“So!” he exclaimed. “I have captured two German spies, eh?”

“Your Excellency,” said Jack quietly, “I assure you we are not German spies.”

“O-ho!” laughed the big Russian. “They deny it. O-ho!”

Frank also deemed it best to keep up the pretense.

“I assure you, your Excellency,” he said, “that you are mistaken in us. We are French gentlemen.”

Frank purposely threw a slight German accent into his voice and the big Russian noticed it immediately.

“French! and with an accent like that?” he demanded. “Come! where are the papers you carry?”

“Papers?” echoed Jack, in well simulated surprise.

“Yes, papers. I said papers and I mean papers,” declared the count. “Where are they?”

“Do you think we are fools, that we carry papers with us?” demanded Jack somewhat angrily, it seemed to Count Blowinski.

This answer rather pleased the count, for it gave him the idea that he had two shrewd young men before him. He lowered his voice suddenly.

“Come,” he said. “It is all right. I am Count Blowinski. It is for me the papers you carry are intended.”

Jack glanced quickly about him and the move was not lost upon the count. Still the lad seemed undecided and protested his innocence in vigorous terms, in which Frank joined. Count Blowinski laughed softly.

“I like you two,” he declared. “You are cautious, which is a trait to be admired in these troublous times. But I assure you I am the man for whom the papers are intended. Give them to me. I shall see that you are released and I shall have use for you myself.”

“If we could but be sure,” said Jack, “then we could deliver our message.”

“It is verbal, you mean?” demanded the count.

“How else?” queried Frank.

“Good, then tell me.”

“If you will prove to our satisfaction that you are really Count Blowinski, we shall do so,” said Jack. “I see it is useless to profess ignorance any longer.”

For answer the count stepped to the door of the cell and raised his voice in a call for the jailer. The latter hurried forward.

“Tell these prisoners who I am,” ordered the count.

“You are Count Blowinski, your Excellency,” replied the man.

“Good,” said the count. “Leave us again.” The man retreated and again the count turned to the two lads: “Are you satisfied now?” he asked.

“Perfectly, your Excellency,” declared Frank.

He took off his coat, and ripped open the lining. Then he produced a paper, which he passed to the count. Jack did likewise.

“They are in duplicate,” said Jack. “In case one of us failed to get through, the other, it was felt, would reach you safely.”

Quickly Count Blowinski scanned the papers and then tore them into little pieces and dropped the bits into his pocket.

“Now,” he said sternly, “if you will tell me why you told me you carried a verbal message?”

His words were a question and Frank replied quietly.

“So that, in the event you were not really Count Blowinski, you would not know that we carried papers,” he said.

“Good! Good!” cried the Russian. “You are shrewd. I shall be able to make use of you. I suppose you know that the contents of these papers put both of you at my disposal?”

“No, your Excellency, we had not been so informed.”

“But it is true,” declared the count. “And your courage and resourcefulness is commended to me. Yes, I shall have use for you.”

“We are at your service, your Excellency,” said Jack.

The count moved toward the door.

“I shall have to leave you here for a time,” he said. “It may be an hour, it may be six. Things cannot be done in a minute without arousing suspicion, in spite of my rank. However, I shall have you out as soon as I possibly can, for I would converse with you further. Good-bye.”

He passed out and again summoned the jailer, whom he ordered to relock the door. This done, the two moved away.

“Well, he swallowed it,” said Frank, after he was sure the count was out of hearing.

“I should say he did,” Jack agreed. “I didn’t imagine it would be so easy.”

“Nor I; but we have the hardest part of the work still ahead of us.”

“And we shall carry it to a successful conclusion,” said Jack.

“Or know the reason why,” added Frank.

It was well within the specified time that a jailer again approached the cell and commanded the two lads to follow him.

“Where are you taking us?” demanded Jack.

“Count Blowinski desires your presence,” replied the guard.

The lads followed without further questioning.

They were ushered into the count’s presence in his own handsome apartments. They were rather surprised when they found the count was not alone, but their surprise was short lived, for after the guard had taken his departure, Count Blowinski addressed them immediately.

“I have this moment signed your pardons,” he said. “I have told the military authorities, who are under my supervision, that I have positive evidence you are not German spies. My word goes here yet—and will in the days to come, when the German armies have occupied Moscow.”

The count swept his arm about the room, taking in all the other figures in a single comprehensive gesture.

“These,” he said to the two lads, “are the men who are with me in this undertaking. You may speak plainly before them.”

The lads bowed to the circle of faces.

“Very well, your Excellency,” said Jack quietly.

“By the way,” said the count, “how am I to address you?”

Jack smiled slightly as he replied, indicating Frank.

“My companion here as Lieutenant Maurice Depree and myself as Lieutenant Raoul Santon, of the French army.”

“Good,” said the count. “Good for our work here. But your real names?”

“Are not to be mentioned in Moscow,” replied Frank simply.

“And why?” demanded the count with a sudden show of anger.

“Because it is commanded,” returned Frank firmly.

For a moment it seemed that the count was about to make an angry retort, but he checked himself and after a moment smiled.

“A command,” he said, “is a command. It would be well if others obeyed orders as well as you.”

He then presented each lad in turn to the various men about him, and Frank and Jack were surprised to learn that some men so high in the Russian service were engaged in this gigantic German plot.

“The names of some,” thought Frank to himself, “would startle the whole world.”

“And now,” said the count, “perhaps you can throw a little light upon a subject we have been trying to solve. First, of course, you know something of what we are planning to do?”

“A trifle,” said Jack.

“I shall explain. Our plan is to gather together, in Moscow first, such a number of men who are dissatisfied with Russian rule, as to raise a hand for the Kaiser. I may say without boasting that at this moment I have the pledges of at least a hundred Russian noblemen to use their influence and what power they have to join when the time is ripe. There is dissension among the troops, particularly those who have been held here and in Petrograd—St. Petersburg once more when German arms have been victorious. Among high officers in the army we have found recruits, as well as in the ranks. When the time comes we shall strike, and when it does come I have enough men at my command to capture Moscow and hold it.

“Now, perhaps you have heard that the Czar will visit Moscow next week?”

Frank nodded, and then he took a long chance.

“It was for that reason, so I am told,” he said, “that we were sent here at this time. I can now give you what verbal instructions I carry. I am commanded to tell you that the time to strike is on the last day of the Czar’s visit to Moscow, after which, it is understood at home, he is going to the front.”

“Good! Good!” cried Count Blowinski. “It is as I told you, gentlemen,” and he gazed at the others in the room. “Did I not tell you the time for action had come? I said it when I first learned that two German spies——” here he smiled—“had been captured. So the time is almost here! Good!”

There were nods and low murmurs of approval from different parts of the room. Count Blowinski swept the others with his eyes.

“The time has come for you to prove yourselves,” he said sternly. “Let each of you go your way now and report to me at this hour the day after tomorrow. And remember, I am still the Czar’s right hand. Should a single man betray me, I shall still have the power to send him to Siberia. Be warned.”

He glared at the others, who now left the room rapidly. The count signaled the two lads to remain with him.

“You gentlemen,” he said after the others had gone, “shall remain as my guests. The freedom of the town and the house is yours. By the Kaiser! I am glad you have come. I was beginning to tire of waiting. Will you join me in a glass of wine?”

Frank was about to refuse, but Jack stayed him with a look.

“With pleasure, your Excellency,” the lad said quietly.

The Russian clapped his hands and a servant appeared. The count gave a command in Russian and the man disappeared, only to reappear a few moments later bearing a tray on which was wine and glasses. The count filled the glasses, and as each stood with his glass raised the count exclaimed:

“Confusion to Nicholas!”

As the count threw back his head and drained the glass, each lad was able to dispose of his wine in a jardinière which stood nearby.

“Your Excellency,” said Frank, “if you would be so kind as to put a room at our disposal, we would rest for a brief while. Your Excellency may never find it out, but a dungeon cell does not rest weary bones.”

“To be sure,” said the count with a laugh. “I had forgotten your recent hardship.”

He clapped his hands for his servants, then continued: “No, Count Stephan Blowinski shall never repose in a dungeon cell!”

CHAPTER XII.
THE BOYS MAKE PROGRESS.

The two following days passed without incident. Frank and Jack remained in the palatial home of Count Blowinski as honored guests. What excuse the count had given his subordinates for releasing them and giving the freedom of the house and of the city itself, the lads did not know; it was sufficient that he had done so. They went and came without question.

It was on the evening of the third day—shortly before the supper hour—that Jack, passing the door of the count’s private office, caught a word or two from within that caused him to prick up his ears. He stopped and listened.

“To-night at eight, then,” came the words in a voice he did not recognize.

“To-night at eight,” repeated Count Blowinski. “Be there without fail. I expect a full attendance, for it is quite likely that plans of importance will be discussed. You know the password?”

“Yes, your Excellency. ‘The Czar’ only spoken in German.”

“Exactly; and the knock?”

“Five sharp taps, a loud tap and two short taps.”

“Good. At eight then.”

Jack flitted silently down the hall and turned into a room just as the door to the count’s quarters opened. The lad was afraid to take the risk of trying to get a look at the count’s visitor, for had he been detected, he did not know what might happen. He made his way to the quarters assigned him and Frank, where he sat down to await his chum’s return.

Seven o’clock came and Frank did not put in an appearance. Seven-fifteen, and still no sign of him. Jack began to grow uneasy. Seven-thirty, and he had not returned.

“Pshaw! I guess he can take care of himself,” muttered Jack.

He donned his heavy cloak, picked up his hat and descended to the street. There, in the shadow of the house, he took his stand. A few moments later, Count Blowinski appeared in the doorway. A moment later the count’s large automobile drew up. The Russian descended the steps and entered the car.

As the machine moved off, Jack rushed from his hiding place, and by a sprint, caught hold of the rear of the car and pulled himself up behind. The machine continued on its way for perhaps fifteen minutes. Jack kept careful note of the direction, that he might find his way back safely.

Then the driver turned the car into a dark and narrow street and reduced his speed. Jack dropped lightly to the ground and dashed to the shelter of the dingy buildings that lined the walks. Muffled in his huge coat, he knew he ran little risk of detection.

A short distance up the narrow street the car stopped and Count Blowinski alighted. Immediately the auto turned and sped in the direction from which it had come.

Jack slouched toward the count.

The latter took one look at the approaching figure, and then, apparently satisfied, turned on his heel and walked rapidly up the street. Jack followed a considerable distance behind but still close enough to make sure he would not lose sight of the count.

Before a single story building, even more dingy looking than the rest, the count paused. One swift glance he gave about him, and not perceiving Jack some distance behind—as the lad had slunk close to the shelter of the house, he disappeared down a flight of stairs into the basement.

Jack moved forward more rapidly now.

The lad had noticed that before Count Blowinski descended the stairway he had settled his heavy fur cap more firmly upon his head, apparently to conceal his features. Jack did likewise.

At the head of the steps—at the same point where the count had paused momentarily—Jack also paused for a second. He thrust both hands into the pockets of his great coat and made sure that his revolvers were ready. One quick glance he cast about him and started; for he felt sure that he had perceived a form lurking in the shadows some distance back.

But it was too late to hesitate now; so, drawing a long breath, Jack descended the steps.

Below he expected to find a door, where it would be necessary to give the knock he had heard mentioned in Count Blowinski’s rooms earlier in the evening; but there was no door, or if there were, it was standing open. At any rate Jack did not see a door and he passed into the darkness beyond.

It was inky black inside, and Jack walked forward slowly, one hand touching the wall on the side as he advanced. Suddenly he brought up against a solid wall. He felt along in the darkness and found that the passage turned to the left. He continued along it.

Suddenly he stumbled. His foot had struck something. He leaned down to investigate and discovered that the something was nothing more than a flight of stairs. He mounted them as rapidly as the darkness would permit.

At the top he came to another passageway, leading off to the right. Down this he walked in the darkness for fifty paces and then brought up against another solid substance. He stretched out his hands on each side of him. There was no turn in the passageway. Apparently the obstruction that barred his progress was a door.

Here was where it would be necessary to knock for admittance.

Jack did not hesitate. Five sharp taps he gave, followed by a single loud tap, and then two sharp taps.

A moment later the door swung inward a trifle and a head showed itself.

“The word?” the man questioned in a deep voice.

“The Czar,” replied Jack firmly in German.

“Enter,” said the voice.

The door swung back farther.

Settling his cap firmly on his head, Jack once again felt of his revolvers and stepped inside. Before him another long passageway stretched out. Apparently the man who had opened the door at the lad’s knock was some distance from the rendezvous.

Jack asked no questions, but walked ahead.

Several more turns and another flight of stairs he traversed before bringing up before another door. Here again he found it was necessary to knock, but he ran the gauntlet safely and a few moments later found himself inside, thinking to himself as he gazed upon the circle of men who sat about the room:

“Certainly they are careful enough not to be discovered.”

Within the room there were fully half a hundred men gathered about. The room was only dimly lighted and it was next to impossible for Jack to make out the features even of the man immediately next to him on either side. In spite of this, however, the lad was careful to keep his coat well up around his chin and his cap down over his ears. This attracted no undue attention, however, for it seemed to be the purpose of every man in the room to keep his identity hidden.

Apparently the meeting, or whatever it was, had not been called to order yet, for the men were simply sitting or standing about quietly. They seemed to be awaiting the arrival of some one.

And a few moments later the some one came.

A big man he was, taller and heavier than Count Blowinski himself, and he walked into the room with the air of a man born to command. He passed to the far end of the room, where he turned to face the others. Count Blowinski approached and stood by his side. The faces of these two alone were plainly visible.

A Russian was Count Blowinski, it could be told at first glance, but Jack experienced a shock of surprise when he obtained his first clear view of the other man. The latter was a German. There could be no doubting his Teutonic features. Jack wondered how he could roam about Moscow at large without being picked up by the Russian authorities.

Count Blowinski was the first to speak.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I have the pleasure to inform you that the time to strike has come. To-morrow the Czar comes to Moscow. I shall expect each one of you to do your duty. There is no need to discuss our plans. Each man here knows the work that has been assigned to him. In my pocket are all your names. The man who fails shall have me to reckon with and I assure you that Siberia is an unpleasant country.

“The Czar comes to Moscow to-morrow only with his personal bodyguard. He is relying upon me to furnish the men who shall protect him. I shall do so, though in a way that possibly will surprise him. That is, I shall do so with your assistance. If you are still with me, you will please say ‘aye.’”

“Aye!” came in subdued voices from the other conspirators. Even Jack joined in.

“We shall seize the Czar,” continued the count, “as he addresses his troops on the palace grounds. Aside from the Czar’s personal bodyguard, the troops will be mine, carefully selected by you. I shall expect them to do their work.

“Herr von Louden here tells me that, half an hour after the time appointed for the Czar to address my troops, a fleet of half a hundred German airplanes, together with a score of Zeppelins, will appear over the city. At the same moment, a German fleet, which has pushed through the Baltic to the Gulf of Finland, will force an entrance and bombard Petrograd. Further south, the allied Teutonic armies will begin a gigantic offensive at almost the same moment. The Russian troops will be forced back upon all sides. The people will cry for peace, and I, having assumed my new role under the protection of his Majesty Wilhelm II of Germany, shall give them peace. They will thank me, and you, gentlemen, for bringing peace to our troubled country. That is all, except that Herr von Louden is present to-night to vouch for the truth of my words and to reassure you that the Emperor of Germany will keep his royal word.”

The German then spoke a few words, after which Count Blowinski said:

“Now, if there are no remarks, I shall declare this meeting adjourned.”

There were no remarks. Apparently no man present had anything to say.

“But before you go, to begin your respective tasks,” said the count, “I shall ask each man present to pass before me and remove his hat, that I may make sure there is no traitor nor spy among us to-night. I should know the face of every man present and I should know whether he is entitled to be here. You will please walk before me on your way out.”

“Great Scott!” muttered Jack to himself. “I’m in for it now. I am sure to be recognized and the count will hardly accept any explanation I may make. Worse, if discovered, I shall be unable to give the warning and the plot will succeed.”

The lad’s lips set grimly.

“There is always a fighting chance,” he told himself quietly, remembering the remark Lord Hastings had so recently made to Frank. “Well, they’ll know I have been here before I go down.”

He thrust his hands into his pockets and grasped a revolver securely with each. Then he followed the line of men who were passing before Count Blowinski.

The single light in the room was right above the count’s head and it fell squarely upon each man’s head as he passed before the count. Behind Jack came other men.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE FIGHT IN THE PASSAGE.

A form pressed Jack closely from behind.

“Careful!” said a low voice that the lad recognized with a start.

Jack half wheeled and muttered:

“Frank! What——”

“Sh-h-h,” was Frank’s response, for it was really he, and added quickly: “When the light goes out, duck and make for the door. I’ll be behind you.”

Jack said nothing, but awaited developments as he moved still nearer Count Blowinski. He held himself tense, ready for anything that might transpire.

Frank held his right hand carelessly in his pocket as he moved slowly forward behind Jack. The long line of men were passing through the door, but there were still many more behind.

A close observer now would have seen the right side of Frank’s great coat rise slowly. The hand within was pulling it up. Suddenly it flashed up still more suddenly and there came a sharp report. There was a sound of crashing glass and the room was immediately plunged into darkness.

Through his overcoat, Frank had shot out the light!

At the moment he had pressed the trigger Frank had reached forth his left hand and clasped Jack by the arm. Then he leaped in the direction of the door dragging Jack after him.

“Quick!” he cried.