Dave Porter's war honors

“These old mines must have been worked for all they were worth.”

“That’s the way it looks to me, Roger. And yet I’ve no doubt that with up-to-date mining methods they might get a good deal more out of these places.”

“Oh, I know that, Dave. Modern mining machinery has accomplished wonders for the mines in the United States.”

About a week had passed since Dave had had the quarrel with Nat Poole at the brook, and during that time the engineers had been moved forward to the vicinity of the abandoned mines mentioned by Lieutenant Gebauer. Here they were busy repairing the roads which had once been used by the Germans and left by them in a most deplorable condition. Trees and huge masses of rocks blocked the way and great masses of abandoned wire entanglements had been strung around wherever it was thought they would impede the progress of the Americans.

It was bad enough to get rid of the rocks and the trees, but it was even worse to dispose of the wire. Much of this was rusty, and they had to be very careful how they handled the stuff for fear of being scratched and getting their clothing torn to ribbons. Even as it was, the most substantial of the uniforms worn by the engineers did not last very long, and had to be replaced.

The abandoned mines were spread over a large area, and because of the war were in such condition that only a small portion of the various passageways were used by the Americans. The engineers had their quarters in one long passageway, which some one had named The Subway, while some of the infantry were quartered not a long distance off in what was known as The Tube.

These quarters were, as the chums had agreed, perfectly safe from bombardment by the enemy. But they were rather damp and chilly, and were invaded by hordes of mine rats with which the troops had constant battles.

“My gracious! I don’t know but that the rats are just about as bad as the cooties,” cried Phil, one day after one of the rodents had run over him while he was trying to take a nap.

“Don’t say a word about the cooties!” Ben returned, scratching his back on one of the upright posts in the mine. “I never thought I was going to be subject to anything like this when I joined the army.”

“Oh, forget it and look pleasant!” cried Dave, who sat on a box mending a shirt by the light of a candle. He, too, had had his dose of these little pests, which seemed to have descended upon all the armies like a plague.

Two things were in the engineers’ favor—the Germans seemed to have withdrawn from that vicinity and the weather remained unusually fine. At night there was a full moon which bathed the country for miles around in beauty.

Dave had put in a hard day’s work, and in addition had been asked to go on an errand by Captain Obray, who had left an important notebook at one of the headquarters he had visited. This notebook the young lieutenant was now carrying in one of his pockets.

“If it wasn’t for those guns banging away in the distance one would never know a war was on by looking at such a scene as this,” remarked Dave, on this evening, as he walked toward the mine entrance with Roger and some of the others.

“It certainly is beautiful,” was the reply of the senator’s son. “Almost too nice to retire. Wish we were at Crumville with the girls.”

“I think I’ll stay out a while,” went on Dave. “I’ve got nothing particular to do. Do you want to take a little walk with me?”

“I’ve promised myself to write a letter to my folks, Dave.”

“And I’m going to write a letter, too,” added Phil. “Belle complained the last time that my letter was very short. This time I’ll make it long enough, believe me!”

“I wrote two letters yesterday; so I think I’ll take a little walk,” said Dave. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

His chums retired into one of the openings of the abandoned mine, and Dave turned to walk along a trail which led through the woods. Here at one point between a number of rocks, he had located a spring of pure water and he thought to get a drink.

The moonlight filtering through the trees made many objects appear rather ghostly, but, as my old readers know, Dave was not one to scare easily, and he walked onward at a brisk pace. Of course he kept his eyes and ears wide open, for he had no desire to be surprised. He did not carry a gun, for in that vicinity there seemed to be no use for firearms.

Although he knew nothing of what had been plotted by Max Gebauer and Nat Poole, Dave, since coming to the abandoned mines, had been constantly watched by those two unworthies. Now Gebauer noted with great satisfaction that Dave was taking a walk by himself in the semi-darkness. He at once sped away to notify his crony.

“Come on, Nat! Now is our chance,” he said in a low voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Dave Porter is taking a walk by himself in the woods.”

“What do you propose to do?”

“Let us follow him. Maybe we’ll get a chance to square accounts.”

“I don’t see what we can do if he is just walking in the woods,” said Nat. “Of course, we could both jump on him and give him a good beating.”

“Something may develop. Come on before he gets out of sight.”

Nat was willing, and side by side the pair hurried off in the direction our hero had taken.

Reaching the spring, Dave procured a drink of water, refilled his canteen, and then proceeded on his way. The road led up to the top of a small hill, and here he thought he might get a good view of the surrounding country in the moonlight.

While on the way Dave paused once or twice to look around him. When he did this Gebauer and Nat lost no time in dropping flat on the ground just as if they were making a night sortie into No Man’s Land. As a consequence, our hero did not become aware that he was being followed.

When Dave reached what he thought was the top of the hill he was rather surprised to find himself among some rather rough rocks and a large quantity of loose stones and dirt. Then he made a discovery, which filled him with wonder. A series of nest-holes for artillery had been constructed on the top of the hill, evidently by the Germans. But there were no evidences of field-pieces having been used there, so Dave came to the conclusion that the enemy had changed their plans after the nests had been made.

There were eight of the openings, and having walked to the last of them the young engineer made another discovery. Here there was a wide trench running downward into a cave-like opening. What was beyond, he could only surmise.

“It looks to me as if that slope leads down into some part of the abandoned mines,” he told himself. “This is worth investigating. I’ll have to report to the captain and we’ll have to see what it looks like in the daytime.”

In the moonlight the opening underground looked quite forbidding, and Dave did not venture very far into it. He did, however, examine the ground as closely as possible to see if he could find any recent footprints. But nothing of the sort came to light. Evidently no one had been in that vicinity since the last rain, which had occurred more than a week before.

As our hero was bending over to make sure that there were no traces of footsteps around this entrance to the abandoned mines, the notebook which Captain Obray had entrusted to him slipped from his pocket, falling between some of the loose rocks.

“Hello! it won’t do for me to lose that notebook,” Dave told himself. “I should have delivered it before I went on this walk.”

Dave had just straightened up with the notebook in his hand when he suddenly became aware of two figures close behind him. Each was armed with a heavy stick, and before he could make a move to defend himself he received a stinging blow on the head. He gave a cry of pain, and then two other blows descended upon him and he knew no more.

Having assaulted him in such a dastardly fashion, Gebauer and Nat stood over their victim for several seconds expecting him to make some sort of move. But as he did not, the youth from Crumville became alarmed.

“Gee! you don’t suppose we knocked him out, do you?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Certainly not,” answered Gebauer coolly. “He’s partly senseless, that’s all. He’ll come around presently.”

“That was an awful crack you gave him on the head!”

“I didn’t hit him any harder than you did, Nat.”

“You did so! I only gave him a slight tap, and you hit him hard twice.”

“See here! You can’t put this off on me,” said the lieutenant fiercely. “Just the same, I don’t think he’s hurt very much.” He bent over and took a look at Dave. “He’s breathing all right.”

“Well, I’m glad of that!” returned the money lender’s son, with a sigh of relief.

While he was speaking Lieutenant Gebauer had picked up the notebook which had again fallen between the rocks, and placed it in his pocket.

“What’s that?” demanded Nat.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to examine it when we get to the light. Here, Nat, take hold of him.”

“What are you going to do.”

“Let us place him in that opening yonder. There is no use of leaving him out here in the open.”

“But he might drop down into the mine if we place him too near one of the shafts,” remonstrated Nat. He was beginning to get a little frightened over what had been done.

“What do we care if he does drop down?” answered the other brutally. “Come on, before he comes to his senses.”

“I don’t want to go too far into this,” whined Nat. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable.

“You promised to see it through, and you’ve got to do it,” declared Lieutenant Gebauer. “Come! Catch hold!”

Between them they carried Dave into the cave-like opening. Then, as Nat retreated, fearing that our hero would recover consciousness and recognize him, Gebauer lit a match and took a survey of the situation. Only a few feet away was a slope leading down to unknown depths. The fellow who had tried to become Dave’s rival in the affections of Jessie Wadsworth hesitated for an instant and then pushed our hero’s body toward this slope. Then he gave it another shove, and suddenly saw the body go turning over and over down the slope and out of sight into the darkness.

“There, I guess that will fix you, Dave Porter!” he muttered to himself. “You’ll have one sweet job getting out of that hole. I hope it takes you several days to do it. And if it does, I think it will be an easy matter to spread a report that you ran away simply to have a good time in one of the French towns behind us.”