THE PANEL IN THE WALL
A pair of piercing yet kindly eyes were fixed on Porky as he came to attention and awaited permission to approach the huge table at which sat General Pershing and several members of his staff. Porky was conscious of something serious in the air. The faces that looked up as he entered were serious, and some of them frowning. Colonel Bright threw him a glance, then continued his restless tramp up and down the further end of the large apartment. Only General Pershing seemed wholly at ease. He beckoned the boy. Porky came and stood opposite the General, the width of the table between them.
"Your report," said the General.
Porky breathed more freely. He was to be given a chance to explain his tardy arrival, at least, before being reprimanded.
"I report, sir, that I brought Lieutenant Bogardus as far as the First Aid Station in trench D," he said. "He is unconscious and could not come here. They think he will not die."
"He is unconscious," repeated the General, while Colonel Bright stopped his steady stride and stared at the boy.
"Yes, sir," said Beany.
"Did you find him at the wireless station?" asked the General.
"No, sir," said Porky.
"Where then?" snapped the officer with seeming impatience.
"In a shell crater, sir, just outside the German lines," said the boy.
The General started to his feet, then settled back in his chair.
"Make your report," he said quietly. "Make it unofficially, in your own way. I can follow it better."
"Yes, sir," said Porky, saluting again. He was so tired that he swayed, and involuntarily he caught at the edge of the table. The keen eyes watching him noticed.
"A chair!" he demanded, and some one shoved a seat toward Porky, who gratefully sank into it. He passed a weary, shaking hand across his brow.
"It is a pity to make you tell your story now," said the General kindly. "I am sorry. When you have finished you shall have a rest for a few days. But time means everything just now."
"I don't mind, sir," said Porky. Some one offered him a cup of hot tea and he drank it greedily. It revived him.
"I'm awfully obliged, General, sir," he said gratefully. "I guess I can tell the story clearer if I tell it sort of plain and fast.
"I went away from here, and went straight to the wireless station where you told me. I found the men all working over the instrument. One of the pins had come loose and had fallen out. They couldn't find it anywhere, and they were having a great fuss.
"The planes were trying to communicate with them, and signaling them to answer. One plane came so low we could see that they were crazy to say something. We didn't find out what they wanted, at least I didn't, because I started on after Lieutenant Bogardus. He had left the station just before I got there. I kept after him all afternoon. It seemed like every place he went, I got there just after he had gone on. He had that bunch of papers you gave him, General, and was leaving them all around at the different sectors and with the different officers you had had them addressed to. He certainly was a busy chap. I never could catch up with him. I guess I walked a million miles. It was fierce, too. Wherever I went, I found trouble. Just one of those days, you know, General."
"I know," said the General, smiling strangely.
"Well, sir, just before dark I was up in that opening between the trenches, just beyond the next village, you know, where the church used to stand. Somebody had told me that Lieutenant Bogardus had been seen walking that way, and it struck me that perhaps he had a few hours' leave, and was just roaming around for a rest. But I knew I had to collar him, so I went on looking, and pretty soon I saw somebody way ahead sort of going along among the tree trunks, as though he didn't care much to see anybody. He had on our uniform, and I had a hunch it was Lieutenant Bogardus. So I followed.
"He went on to a rise of ground, and before I could get close enough to see who it was, he whipped out a little bit of a pistol that made a funny little pop when it went off, and he shot it off; all the shots it held, I guess. He made a sort of code of it like a telegraph. Right off there was a couple of little pops in the same sort of voice, from over by the Germans. I thought it came from a tree over there. Anyhow, the man I was following looked around, didn't see anybody, and started right across in the open. Well, sir, that was pretty queer, it seemed to me! Some one in our uniform walking around out there and it made me forget all about Lieutenant Bogardus, and I commenced to follow. Only I got down and crawled. It was getting darker, but I could see perfectly plain. Then I guess somebody saw us, or a plane reported, or something. Anyhow, all at once both sides commenced to shoot. Well I thought I was a gone goose, sir. They hit everything but me, I should say. Then the Germans commenced to throw smoke bombs, and I nearly lost my man. But I hurried and most caught up to him, when I saw a German captain come sneaking along, and I guessed I would wait before I spoke to Lieutenant Bogardus, if it was him. Of course I was sure I was on the wrong trail by this time, but I thought as long as I was there I had better see what was doing, and look for Lieutenant Bogardus when I got back. I knew something pretty important was up, because those men wouldn't risk moseying around right in daylight almost. Gee, I didn't feel as big as anything!
"And in a minute I felt smaller than ever because a shell the size of a church came along from our lines, and bing! I was all dirt, and cut up with little stones, and when I could look around, there ahead was a big shell crater. I ran over and looked in. There was a bayonet lying there right on the edge, and I grabbed it. I don't know why, except you know how you feel about having a stick or something to hold and I was pretty glad I did afterwards. The man I had followed was lying there in the shell crater, on his back. I could see he was hurt pretty bad. A flare went up, and I saw it was Bogardus. He looked pretty bad. But what got my alleys, General, was that the German was beside him, and he was going through his pockets just like lightning. The German had a broken leg himself, but I didn't know that. Well, I let out a yell that was some yell, and I jumped down, bayonet and all, right on the German's neck. I was so mad I didn't think what I did. And I guess I sort of twisted his neck or something, because he crumpled right up, and I thought I had killed him. So I tried to straighten Bogardus out, and I put the papers that the Germ had back in his pocket, and what to do next I didn't know.
"And all at once I felt something behind me, and it was the other man. He had come to, and was trying to get his revolver out of his pocket. Gee, he looked at me ugly! I said as polite as I could, 'You cut that out!' but he got it loose, and shot at me, and he just did miss me and that was all. And then he tried again, and I had to do something quick, so I just took that bayonet—just took that bayonet—"
"All right," said the General. "All in the day's work, my boy. Go on!"
Porky swallowed hard a couple of times.
"Well, sir, there I was with Bogardus, and your orders to have him report to you; and he was not in any condition to report to anybody. So I had to wait until my brother could come and help me."
"How did he know where you were?" demanded the General in astonishment.
"He always knows," said Porky. "We are twins, and we always know when the other is in trouble of any sort. So I knew he would find me, and I just sat tight, and I did get a little worried, but I knew he would come, and he did."
Porky chuckled.
"And when he looked at me over the edge of that crater, I most threw a fit. I was looking for him so hard that it scared me when I saw him. Anyhow, there he was, and it was dark pretty soon, and we brought Bogardus back."
"You carried him?" asked the General.
"Yes, sir. He is pretty thin," said Porky simply.
"What became of the German?" asked the General.
"Back there in the shell crater," said Porky, frowning.
"I wonder if he had any valuable papers on him," mused the General.
"I don't know, sir," said Porky, beginning to fish in his pockets. "I thought of that, so I just went through him and took everything he had." He commenced to lay things out on the table in little piles. The men watched him with interest.
The collection was well worth while. Several official letters, some maps, a number of orders, and some codes. There was also a packet of blank paper that Porky put carefully aside. The General leaned over and picked it up.
"Nothing here," he said, tossing it down.
Porky picked it up.
"I don't know, sir," he said. "We had something like this at home awhile ago. We came near missing out on it, too. If you will excuse me!"
He leaned over and held the first page near the heat of the candle. On the instant the sheet was covered with fine writing.
The General gave a muttered exclamation and leaned back in his chair. "What next?" he demanded.
"That's about all," said Porky. "Bogardus is in hospital by now, I suppose, and I'm sorry it took me so long. I certainly did seem to miss him all around. I'm real sorry, sir. Next time you give me anything to do, I will try to do better."
"That would be impossible," said the General. "Just a moment, my boy, while I make a note or two, and then you can be relieved from all duty for forty-eight hours. You have earned a rest. We will have to go through these papers and plans carefully before we can decide anything for your future reference. Just sit there while I write."
He turned to his desk and, pulling a sheet of paper toward him, commenced covering it with his strong, distinctive handwriting. Porky, in the big chair opposite, watched him for a little, then he rested his head on his hand and commenced to think of all the events of the long, gruelling, wearisome day.
And presently he did not think at all; just listened to the steady scratch, scratch, scratch of the General's pen and the steady tramp, tramp, tramp of the Colonel as he softly paced up and down the length of the somber room. And presently that sound died away. Porky was asleep.
Beany, left to himself in the hall, went cautiously and with noiseless touch over every portion of the oak paneling. He could not find a joint or crack that looked like a secret door or hidden entrance. Then he examined the floor. It too appeared solid. But Beany had one of his hunches. It looked solid but he felt that it wasn't solid. The man he had seen was not a ghost. He was certainly too solid to disappear into thin air. He had come from somewhere, and he had gone somewhere. Benny made up his mind that he would find out if it took all night. He stood thinking. Then he whistled in an offhand manner, and walked loudly down the hall to the turn. Round the turn he went, until well out of sight. Then Beany tried a trick of his boyhood days. He knew from experience that any one watching for any one else always fixes his eyes about where they expect to see the face appear, never lower than that.
So Beany, dropping flat on the floor, worked his way back to the corner, flattened himself out to his flattest, and with face against the tiles waited patiently, his eyes fixed on the distant doorway. The hallway was lighted with a small and feeble kerosene lamp set high on a bracket. It gave a dim light, but Beany could see the door distinctly and the high wainscot on either side.
He stared at it steadily—so steadily and so long that when at last a narrow panel in the woodwork slid noiselessly over and a face looked out into the hall, Beany did not start; he did not feel surprised. All he was conscious of was a sort of triumph. He wanted to sing out for his own benefit, "I told you so."
The face staring from the panel looked straight down the hall, as Beany had known it would. A pair of bright, ferrety eyes stared at the turn, but not once did they drop to the floor where Beany's bright eyes watched every move. Beany had to smile, it was so funny. The unknown person leaned from the panel and watched four feet above Beany's face, while in plain sight on the floor Beany lay motionless and unnoticed.
He watched while the person (he could not tell at first whether it was a man or woman) looked and listened. Then as if assured that the coast was clear, the man, (for it was a man), stepped out of the dark slit in the wall, carefully closed the panel, and once more stood listening at the door. He listened intently, then stooped, and bending in a comfortable position on one knee, looked fixedly through the great old-fashioned keyhole.
Beany watched breathlessly.
For a long time—it seemed days to Beany—the man held his stooping position. Beany wished he too could see what was going on inside that door. He was sure, however, that it was nothing more exciting than Porky's account of his chase after Bogardus; and as Porky was an aggravatingly low talker, he was pretty sure the man at the keyhole would not be able to hear very much. Just the same, Beany knew that here was something serious and threatening. The man listened and looked so intently that Beany seriously thought of trying to creep up behind him, give the alarm, grab him and hang on, trusting to luck that the door would be opened soon enough to prevent the man from killing him. It was a crazy idea and Beany banished it. It was well that he did, for at that moment the panel, which had been left partly opened, slid wide and a second man appeared. He was a tall man, apparently in uniform. What his uniform was, Beany could not see. It was closely covered with a long, closely-buttoned linen coat and a nondescript cap covered his head. He tapped the man at the keyhole sharply, and the fellow straightened to a stiff salute. Beany could not help admiring their utter coolness in the face of discovery. At any moment the door might open; at any moment some one might come down the hall. Of course in that case, reflected our self-appointed sleuth, they would walk over his legs, and stop to make a fuss, during which the two men would pop into the wall again.
Then while Beany watched, there followed a violent, soundless discussion between the two. One and then the other stooped to the keyhole. Then the second man noiselessly stepped back into the hole in the wall and closed the panel after him.
By this time Beany was so excited that he had no conception of time. It seemed a long while before he saw the man at the door turn his head and look at the panel. Then at last Beany saw what he so wanted to see—the secret of its opening. The man's hand sought something in the upper left corner, Beany could not see in the poor light just what it was, but the man pressed hard, swinging considerable weight against it, and the panel slid smoothly back. Another figure appeared. It was a little, stooped woman. She had a worn broom in her hands.
Beany recognized her at once as the deaf and dumb peasant woman who pottered around the offices brushing up and doing what odd jobs they could make her understand about.
At the present moment, however, she was anything but deaf and dumb. She seized the man at the door by the shoulder and shook him violently, whispering a stream of comment in his ear. She waved her broom threateningly, with an eye on the door meanwhile. Beany wondered what she would do if any one did come out.
He felt sure she would manage to carry off the situation.
Whatever she said was badly received by the man. He pulled back and shook his head violently. She stamped her old foot noiselessly. He still rebelled, but she insisted in a continuous rush of whispered words, while Beany felt his mouth sag open and his eyes bulge with amazement. Even in the midst of his surprise he could not help wondering just what personal remarks he and Porky had made about her on a dozen different occasions in the few weeks that they had been there. However, there was one happy thought. He and his brother had spoken in English, a tongue that must as a matter of course have meant nothing to her ignorant old ears.
Beany was not to learn for a long while that the old, stooped, ugly peasant, looking so typically French and so pitifully silent and stupid, had once been a famous German actress, as well as one of the most brilliantly educated women of her time. Once there had been a day when her parlors in Berlin had been filled with the most renowned and high-born men and women in the world. Not only members of the highest circles of Germany, but representatives from every other country. To be asked to the home of Madame Z—— was the dream of every young diplomat, writer, artist and court favorite.
Yet now, perfectly disguised, stooped, bent, and old, clad in rags, she stood clutching in one hand a coarse home-made broom, while with the other she kept a tight grip on the shoulder of the rebellious man beside her.
At last he nodded, and she turned and shoved him before her into the passage in the wall, following close behind and closing the panel.
Beany was alone.
He leaped to his feet and tiptoed down to the door, a cautious eye on the panel. He lifted a hand to knock on the door, then paused, and in his turn applied an eye to the keyhole. It was a huge old keyhole, made in the days when keys were large enough to almost take the places of trench billies. He could see most of the room. The General sat writing at the desk. Across in an armchair Porky leaned on the table, sound asleep. There had been nothing for the spies to see this time, at any rate. Then a wild thought came into Beany's head.
He did not wait to consider it. It was a crazy thought, but to Beany in his excited state it was a sane idea.
He approached the panel, felt carefully in the upper corner, pressed a dozen carvings and then, just as he despaired, felt the heavy wood give under his touch. He pushed the trap open and without a moment's hesitation entered and closed the door behind him.
The passage was pitch dark.