Under Fire For Servia

"We certainly shall – but we shan't stay there!"

"Oh, I give it up! I never was good at guessing riddles, anyhow!"

"Sh-h! We can't tell when we're near the sentries, and we'd better keep quiet now."

After a little time the cart stopped with a jolt, and they heard the peasant driver, as he seemed to be, exchanging rough jests with the sentries. Then there was a grounding of arms, and they passed on. For perhaps fifteen minutes they continued to jolt along, and for the first time Dick was glad, despite the heat, that he was wearing such thick garments, since they saved him, he was convinced, a good many bruises. He decided that that must be the reason they had worn them. Then the cart stopped and the driver began to make a way for them to get out, which they were glad to do.

"All right – good luck and good-night, Ivan!" said Stepan.

"And to you, good luck and the grace of God, Stepan Ivanovitch!" said the driver. "There is nothing more that I can do?"

"No. Good-bye!"

The cart rumbled off, and Stepan turned off to the right. Dick asked no questions, but went along, satisfied that the mystery must soon be solved. And indeed it was. They were on level ground now, but soon they began to descend, and found themselves in a rather wide ravine. There was a sudden challenge: "Who goes there?" delivered in Servian!

"Kossovo!" answered Stepan.

"Pass," said the sentry, who was not in uniform, and carried a revolver instead of a rifle.

And then, a few paces further on, they came to a strange mass covered with canvas. A man stepped out of the shadow, flashing an electric torch in their faces.

"Stepan? That is good!" he said.

Stepan went forward and drew off the canvas cover, and Dick saw what was underneath – a monoplane, as he had guessed!

"That is a captured Austrian 'plane," said Stepan. "Now do you understand? Are you willing to take the risk of flying in it with me?"

"I wouldn't miss it!" said Dick. "But I didn't know you knew how to run one!"

"He is one of our very few qualified aviators," said the man who had been on guard. "And every day now for weeks he has been coming here to study the controls and all the details of this machine. It is in perfect order, ready to take the air."

"And an Austrian monoplane! Why, we can fly over their lines!" exclaimed Dick. "How splendid! But what are you to do, Steve?"

"You will soon know. Get aboard! Your seat is there. Strap him in, Dmitri, while I see to the tank."

"Everything is right," said Dmitri. "But make sure for yourself – that is a good rule."

In a minute Stepan was satisfied and had taken his place beside Dick. Then the motor was started, the propeller began to turn, and in a few moments they rose from the ground, soared above the trees, and were in full flight.

"Now you see why we had to be warm!" said Stepan. "We are in for a long flight. But up first! We must fly high!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE FLIGHT

They rose higher and higher, climbing in spirals, until Dick had completely lost his bearings. The night was cloudy, and there were no stars to help him, and before long they had passed through the first layer of low hanging clouds, so that he was denied the aid of lights and towns below. Then when they had thus made it impossible for anyone below to detect them, Stepan gave his motor full play and the real flight began. Dick thought he had never in his life known a sensation so glorious as this swift gliding along through the air. But he soon appreciated the comfort that came from the thick clothes upon which his chum had insisted. Despite the weight of the things, he was far from being hot in that long night flight.

Sometimes he slept. He was aroused once when they descended, but the country was wholly unfamiliar to him, and they were soon off again. But with morning came a stunning surprise. The sun was visible now, and Dick saw that they had been flying northeast! He had supposed that they would head for the Servian army, but he guessed now, as he saw snow capped mountains before them, that they had taken an entirely different course. And his surprise was vastly increased when a strange sound assailed his ears.

"Ah!" cried Stepan, exulting. "It is all right!"

Dick followed Stepan's pointing finger with his eyes, and now he saw the source of the firing that had so astonished him. It was in front of him, on the plain between them and the mountains, which were far away still, though they seemed so near.

"What troops are those? And where are we?" he cried.

"We have flown across Hungary in the night, and those are Hungarian regiments, giving way before the advance of Russian troops who have come through the passes from Galicia!" cried Stepan. "But that is not what counts! Look down there – to the right!"

Dick looked. What he saw was a small village that had suddenly become a city. Trains were drawing in, and a dozen or more sidings contained strings of cars that had evidently arrived during the night. As they looked a train stopped and soldiers poured from it.

"Do you understand? Can you realize what that means, Dick?" cried Stepan. "They are sending reënforcements from Servia! Those troops were among those who were attacking us. The Russian invasion through the passes has brought them back! That is what we came for – to learn if that were so!"

"Oh, I do understand now!" cried Dick, as a great light burst on his mind. He saw it all. This was what Servia had been hoping for; a weakening of the forces massed against her. No wonder it had been all-important to know if the reënforcement had really been sent! Then his eye wandered, and he saw something coming through the air – another aeroplane was approaching them.

"Look out, Stepan! Here comes one of their machines!" he cried.

Stepan seized his glass on the instant.

"Yes!" he said. "That is bad luck for it is one of their newer, faster machines! We must try to get away! Here, take this rifle. If she comes so near that she discovers who we really are, we must fight. Aim for the tank. A bullet through that will send them down quickly! But don't fire until I give the word. It is better to run than to fight, if we can."

And now, as if he had not seen the hostile aeroplane, Stepan turned and began to race south, in the direction whence they had come. There followed the most exciting of possible contests – a real race between aeroplanes, not for a prize or a trophy, but with life itself, or liberty at least, as the price of victory or the penalty of defeat.

With the slower, clumsier machine, Stepan still made a wonderful showing. He went up, then down, twisting this way and that, manœuvering with brilliant skill. The other machine followed, however, and it was gaining constantly, thanks to its better motor. Still it did not fire a shot, for it must have been difficult for the pilot to know what possessed the machine that he chased. It was so obviously an Austrian monoplane, yet its actions were suspicious.

At last Stepan reduced his speed. At the moment they were above the rival birdman, who was climbing to get on a level.

"Now – and aim for the tank!" cried Stepan.

Dick fired. His first bullet went wide, and cut through the wing. But the next one found its mark. They could hear the sharp ping as it struck the metal tank, even above the roar of the two racing engines. And then another – and all three before the enemy could reply.

"Good! We are saved!" cried Stepan.

For the Austrian machine staggered like a bird hit on the wing, reeled, and then plunged downward. One bullet sang past them, dangerously close, but that was all. In a moment they were alone in the heavens, racing toward Servia, while behind them the roar of battle continued.

On and on they flew. They passed over Belgrade and Semlin late in the afternoon, when the sun was sinking. It was dark when they crossed a plain from which great numbers of troops stared up at them. But they were flying very high and very fast, and though two more Austrian aeroplanes began to pursue, there was no danger that they would be caught. And at last, weary, exhausted, they came to earth in the Servian camp.

"Come with me," said Stepan. Willing hands were caring for the aeroplane, and now a staff officer came up.

"You are Stepan Dushan?" he asked. "I am to take you to the general!"

"My companion, too," insisted Stepan.

And so Dick was present when Stepan made his report to the veteran general who commanded the Servian army. He saw the light that came into the leader's eyes when he heard of the arrival of the Austrian troops in Hungary and listened, with admiration, to the sharp fusillade of orders which interrupted Stepan's narrative.

"Now we know what to do!" said the general. "Now we shall fall upon them. The battle will begin to-night! They have been trying to force a battle. Well, they shall have it! Go, now, sleep. In the morning there will be great sights for your eyes!"

And in the morning, indeed, Dick and Stepan were present when King Peter, his snowy hair bared to the wind, rode before his troops.

"The time has come, my children!" said the old king. "The time has come for us to drive the invader from Servian soil! We have had to retreat, and it has been hard! But now – now we can strike! This is the dawn of Servia's greatest day, in victory or defeat! Your old king has come now to see you conquer – or to die among you!"

What a cheer there was as the king spoke! What a roar greeted him! With what eagerness did the troops hail the order to advance!

Already the cannon were thundering. Soon now rifle fire in sullen, crackling volleys broke upon the air. And that day the Austrians learned that they had walked into a trap; that Servia's army had retreated, not because it was beaten, not because it was afraid, but that it might fight, when the time for battle came, on its own chosen ground. From the east came the army that had guarded Belgrade for so long, striking at the Austrian flank. And once more an Austrian defeat became a rout. Once more the Servians pursued.

Dick and Stepan could see only a little of the great struggle. But that little was enough to teach them that they were looking upon history in the making. The battle was one of those crushing, decisive struggles that seldom occur. With defeat the last hope of a successful Austrian invasion of little Servia seemed to be shattered and when the sun went down there was no longer any doubt of the issue.

The Austrians had fought well and bravely, but the Servians had fought with the courage of despair and the cool precision of trained soldiers used to victory, as well. The stars that night looked down upon the abject flight of the Austrian army, split in two parts, scattering its arms, its equipment, everything that would retard the search for safety from the furious pursuit of the Servians.

"We let them have Belgrade – for a few days!" said Stepan, drunk with happiness. "But now we want it for ourselves – our capital is the place to celebrate a victory!"

And so it proved. Two divisions of the beaten Austrians were caught at the Danube, where Servian guns had smashed to pieces a bridge of boats cunningly contrived for retreat. And while they were making their last feeble resistance, a brigade of Servians marched into Belgrade. Flags flew everywhere and the people hailed the return of their own troops deliriously. When the king himself rode in, disdaining the carriage that had been provided for his use on account of his age, the city seemed to go mad. The thunder of the guns to the east died away; the Austrians who had been cut off had had enough of fighting and had surrendered. The Servians were the victors.

"It is wonderful! It will surprise the world!" said Dick. "Why, Mr. Hampton said that everyone believed Servia had lost her last chance, and that the country was about to be overrun, like Belgium!"

Dick met General Dushan, Steve's father. And it was the general, his eyes filled with tears of pride over the exploits of his son, who told them of a great honor that awaited them.

"The king has ordered me to bring you both before him," he said. "He has heard of the part you played in the destruction of the Semlin arsenal and he has learned that it was that feat that made the great victory of Schabatz possible. If the Austrians had had ammunition enough to serve their guns, they would have beaten us there."

Dick was embarrassed and timid when he was called upon to stand forth and meet King Peter. But the old man, simple and, democratic, soon put him at his ease. He held out his hand and gripped Dick's, and then he spoke to him in English.

"Servia thanks you, through me, her king," he said. "I wish you to wear this decoration with our gratitude! And I have heard of the mission that brought you to Semlin – so fortunately for us. General Dushan knows my pleasure in that matter."

"Come with me, both of you," said General Dushan. He took them to the citadel, and there, in a little while, Hallo was brought before the general, his hands linked with steel handcuffs.

"Michael Hallo," said General Dushan, sternly, "you have been tried and found guilty, and sentenced to death as a spy and a traitor. But His Majesty has been pleased to grant you a reprieve – on a certain condition. If you will sign an order to Richard Warner upon the State Bank here for the payment of a sum equivalent to two hundred thousand dollars, you will be confined as a political prisoner until the end of the war, and then released. Do you agree?"

There was hate in Hallo's eyes, but he was helpless – and he agreed, to save his life.

"I told you it would be arranged," said Stepan, three days later, when Mr. Denniston, the consul in Semlin, had arranged for the transfer of Dick's money to New York. "And now you are going to Salonica, with an escort to the border – and I am going all the way to Athens to see you off! Think of us sometimes – and when the war is over, I will visit you in New York!"

CHAPTER XIX

HALLO'S LAST CARD

"I'm going to give you drafts on New York, Dick," Mr. Denniston had said. "In ordinary times, that wouldn't be the best way – I'd simply arrange for transfer of your money by mail or cable. But now, in war times, with the mails badly held up and most of the cables cut, that is more difficult. There might be months of delay in getting the money if we trusted to ordinary arrangements."

"I see, sir," said Dick, though he did not understand the details of international banking any too well.

"You've had such a hard time getting this, and you've done so splendidly that I'd hate to think there was any chance of some slip making trouble for you now," the consul went on. "But with these drafts you'll be all right. Take good care of them – but I needn't tell you that, I suppose."

"Hardly!" said Dick, with a laugh. "But no one else could cash them, even if I lost them, I suppose?"

"Not if payment were stopped. The only danger would be if you lost them in such a way that whoever got them forged your signature and then kept you from being able to warn the people in New York not to pay them. But of course there'd be a long delay and it's just possible that you might lose heavily. So guard them carefully – just as if they were actual money. I'll give you a money belt to put them in – "

"I have one myself, thanks," said Dick.

"General Dushan has arranged for your trip, I understand," said the consul. "How do you go?"

"Through Nisha to the Greek border – no, to the Bulgarian line, I believe," said Dick. "They decided that that was safer than the direct route to Athens. I sail from Salonica. Stepan Dushan says there are raiding bands of Albanians south of Uskub and getting near to Monastir, and that that section isn't safe, anyhow – that it hasn't settled down properly since the last wars."

"It's true enough," said Mr. Denniston, with a faint frown. "That whole region is unsettled. You see, Servia took a good deal of territory Bulgaria claimed and there are a good many Bulgarians living in it. I hope that Servia will see its way, if it gets what it wants from Bosnia and Herzegovina, to give that section back to Bulgaria. That's the only way we can have a real and lasting peace here in the Balkans – and Heaven knows we need it, after three great wars in as many years!"

All arrangements were made finally. After the great victory that had driven the Austrians from her soil, Servia was like a man panting for breath. The whole country was resting, gathering its strength after that tremendous effort. But there was a good deal of activity, nevertheless. The ruin the invaders had wrought was being repaired. Railroads had to be rebuilt; ammunition and stores brought up. For the Austrians, badly beaten though they had been, were likely to come again.

So it had seemed best for Dick and his chum, with the escort of hardy Servian cavalrymen General Dushan provided, to ride to the border.

"It'll take us longer, of course," said Stepan, "but not so much. The railroad is torn to pieces, and even where trains are running, the military service has the right of way."

"I'd just as soon ride, anyhow," said Dick. "It gives one a much better chance to see the country."

So it was arranged, and they started from Belgrade before the sun was up on a morning of mist and heavy clouds. Later the sun swept the mist and clouds away, and they rode through a devastated, horrible country. The ravages of war were visible on all sides.

"Ah, well!" said Stepan, with a sigh, as he looked out at the ruin of what had been a smiling, happy land, "the ones who are coming after us will live in peace! Those who have been driven from their homes and have died have suffered for them. Servia will be able to live after this war without feeling that Austria may move at any minute to crush her. And that is worth some suffering!"

"Everything's so quiet here I don't see why we need an escort at all, Stepan," said Dick. "We haven't seen anyone who'd harm a fly – if it was a Servian fly."

"That's true so far," said Stepan, but a grim look came into his eyes. "We shall come, though, to a country where we may meet more trouble. I hope we shall not need the escort – but one can never tell. And I haven't wanted to alarm you, Dick, but this Hallo has a reputation for not giving things up easily. You have a great sum of what he may think is his money, though he stole it from your family. He will not let you get home with that if he finds a way to stop you."

"But how can he do that while he is a prisoner in Belgrade?" laughed Dick.

"He is a prisoner – yes," said Stepan, somberly. "But there are many who have worked for him who are not prisoners. Oh, I may be wrong, and I shouldn't worry you without reason, Dick! But I don't want you to feel too secure; I don't want you to think that all the danger is over. It won't be until we are safely in Salonica."

They had to bid farewell to their escort at last. The troopers went with them to a lonely spot, marked only by a border monument and two small houses – quarters of the Servian and Bulgarian frontier guards. Here there was peace but not friendship. The memories of the bitter summer of 1913, when the allies who had been fighting the Turks, side by side, turned against one another in one of the bloodiest and sharpest wars in history, were all too fresh. The Bulgarians scowled at the sight of the Servian uniforms; they subjected the two scouts to a close scrutiny when they crossed the line, but their papers were in order and they were allowed to proceed.

Now, however, there seemed to be something sinister in the very air. Scowling faces met them wherever they came upon peasants or soldiers, and soldiers seemed almost unduly numerous. Then after a few hours of riding, they saw no more soldiers. In their places, however, they encountered bands of men in the national Bulgarian costume, rough, hard-faced men with modern rifles, who seemed to be riding aimlessly. Stepan ground his teeth at the sight of them.

"They're not soldiers, oh, no!" he said. "You see they're not in uniform. But do you notice how they sit their horses, and how they ride in files? Undisciplined men never did that! Those bands are the ones that cross over, raiding our borderlands. But what can we do? We have enough without fighting Bulgaria, too, so we have to accept apologies the Sofia government makes. If possible we want Bulgaria on our side. But – ! The treacherous dogs!"

"Don't get so excited, Stepan," advised Dick. "I believe you hate them more than you do the Austrians!"

"I'll be glad when we cross over into Greece," grumbled Stephan. "The Greeks are our allies and our friends. The only reason they have not come to our aid is that they must watch Bulgaria. That helps us, of course – Bulgaria dares not move while Greece is ready."

It was late in the afternoon when they first noticed that they were no longer traveling alone. Two Bulgarian merchants – so Stepan said, judging from their appearance – passed them, riding wiry little horses; a little later they overtook them, and after that the two Bulgarians stayed about a hundred yards behind them, no matter how often they altered their pace.

"I don't like their looks," said Stepan. "I wish we didn't have to sleep to-night on Bulgarian soil. Their inns – Dick, why should we sleep in an inn? Let us buy provisions and spend the night out of doors! It will be cold, but we have faced worse hardships than that together!"

"I'm game!" laughed Dick. "Any inn we find on this road is sure to be dirty, anyhow. It'll be a last adventure to think of, after all the rest!"

So it was agreed. In the first village they reached they stopped and bought provisions. After dark they hobbled their horses and built a lean-to shelter and a big camp-fire. The two Bulgarians passed them as they began; soon one rode back.

"I thought so!" said Stepan. "They're watching us, Dick."

Dick looked at him curiously. There was a strange light in Stepan's eyes. It was as if he could see things that are hidden from ordinary sight. And before he could answer Stepan sprang to his feet.

"Come!" he said. "Tear your shirt up into strips – I'm going to muffle the feet of the horses."

He went to work with a will, and Dick followed his example, smiling to himself. He knew Stepan too well to argue with him in such a mood. But that there was serious danger he could not believe for a moment.

"Come!" said Stepan again, when they had finished. He took his horse and led it into the field. They were in wooded country but the trees were not thick, and they could pick a way through them.

Dick looked back at the blazing fire regretfully.

"Are you going on – now?" he asked.

"For your sake," said Stepan, curtly. And Dick said no more.

"A mile away there is another road. We have maps of all this region, of course, and I studied them," said Stepan. "If we can reach a place I have just thought of we may be safe."

They came undisturbed to the parallel road. Then they mounted.

"The horses are pretty tired," suggested Dick.

"I'm sorry for them, but I can't help that," said Stepan. "Come on – ride!"

From the start he set a hot pace. Before long Dick felt his horse was growing more and more tired and finally he protested.

"Slow up, then, if you like!" said Stepan, fiercely. "Don't you know by this time that I don't speak of danger unless it is real? Perhaps you want to be caught by these people! But they know me – and I know what they would do to me! I don't intend to have them catch me, I can tell you!"

"Then why did you come with me?" asked Dick, angrily. He had never seen his friend in such a mood before. Stepan's tone made him so angry that he was almost able to forget how much he owed him.

Stepan didn't answer. But just then, as they still rode on, forcing their pace, they came to a turn in the road. A lone figure, mounted on a big horse, was standing guard. At sight of them he leaned forward, then cried out sharply, "Halt!"

For answer Stepan spurred his horse on; Dick's followed. A shot rang out; then another, and another, but no bullets came near them.

"He's signalling. Now will you believe I was right?" asked Stepan bitterly.

The thunder of hoofs sounded on the road behind them. They sped on, but suddenly Dick's horse lurched and almost threw him over its head, Dick pulled him up; the poor brute was limping.

"He can't go on!" said Dick. "Stepan – "