On to Pekin/Chapter 18
CHAPTER XVIII
THE SPY IN THE RIVER
Gilbert had been sitting next to Jennie Bartlett; and, as he uttered the words recorded in the last chapter, he caught the young lady by the arm. There was a window of the house handy,—a long affair, reaching to the piazza floor,—and through this he sprang, taking the frightened miss with him.
Bang! crash! One side of the tree struck the piazza fairly and squarely; and in a twinkling the roof was completely shattered, the table with its dishes crushed flat, and Amos Bartlett was caught and pinned to the ground, with his wife beside him. There was a cloud of dust and splinters, followed by a yell from the Chinese servant, who was of the opinion that the whole building was doomed, and who fled out of the house and up the street at his best speed.
"Oh!" came from Jennie Bartlett. "Father and mother!"
"It is over now," said Gilbert, as the crashing stopped and the dust began to settle. "You were not touched, were you?"
"No; but poor father and mother" She could say no more. Leaving the girl in the house, Gilbert stepped outside once more. A glance showed him that the tree had settled as far as possible, so danger from this source was now over. He ran to the side of the elder Bartletts, to find Mrs. Bartlett trying to regain her feet. The lady had a slight bruise on the shoulder, but was otherwise uninjured.
"My husband! He is dead!" she panted. "Oh, poor Amos! What shall I do now?"
"He isn't dead. He is only unconscious," said Gilbert, as he knelt by the tea-merchant's side, and applied his ear to the elderly man's breast. "His heart still beats. See, he has been struck in the back of the head." And he pointed out the wound, from which the blood was trickling.
"What shall I do?" repeated Mrs. Bartlett, wringing her hands. The disaster had completely unnerved her.
"Get a little water and a towel, and we will bind up his head. Is there a doctor anywhere about?"
"There is a doctor on the street behind ours,—Dr. Fairchild."
The water and a bandage were brought; and Amos Bartlett was raised up, taken into the house, and placed on a couch. By this time he was regaining his senses, and he slowly opened his eyes.
"Oh!" he murmured, and looked around him. "My wife and Jennie, where are they?"
"We are safe, Amos," answered his wife; "but you have been hurt." And the tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, how I wish we had all gone to Taku!"
"Yes, perhaps it would have been best. Oh, my head and my back! I feel as if I should never be able to walk again!"
"O papa, do not say that!" burst out Jennie. "Does your back hurt you very much?"
"It feels numb, as if it was paralyzed." Amos Bartlett gave a groan he could not suppress. "The weight of the—the tree was more than I—I—could stand!" He gave a gasp, and then fainted away.
More alarmed than ever, Mrs. Bartlett begged Gilbert to go for the doctor she had mentioned; and, receiving directions as to where the medical man lived, the young lieutenant hurried off, through a lane to the rear of the warehouse. As he ran along, he heard several shells whistling through the air; but none came down in that immediate vicinity.
Reaching the doctor's residence, his message was quickly delivered; and Dr. Fairchild returned with him to Amos Bartlett's home. It was found that the tea-merchant had again recovered consciousness; but he was now in a fever, and talked wildly.
"This is a bad case," whispered the doctor to Gilbert. "He may be paralyzed, and that blow on the head may affect his brain. I will do my best for him, but you know as well as I that his age is greatly against him."
"Yes, do your best by all means," answered the young officer. "I hope he recovers entirely, for the sake of his wife and daughter."
Gilbert remained with the family for an hour longer; and during that time the Chinese servant came sneaking back, and began to put the house in order. "Welly muchee flightened me," said the servant to Gilbert. "Shung Sing flink whole house clom down on head."
"Well, you are frank about it," was Gilbert's comment. "Don't you run away again! Your mistress needs you." And the Chinaman promised to stay, but Gilbert knew that his word amounted to nothing. Shung Sing was honest and a hard worker; but he thought more of his own skin than of anything else in the world, and was prepared to run at the least alarm.
When Gilbert returned to camp, he found an earnest consultation going on among the officers. A guard was needed at a certain point along the river, where a pontoon bridge was to be put down; and it was finally decided that the guard should consist of a company of Americans and a company of British infantry. Captain Banner's command was called out; and by nightfall Gilbert found himself stationed along the Pei-Ho once more, near a row of deserted huts of bamboo and mud. There was a small road running down to the stream at this point; and the Americans guarded one side of the highway, while the English detachment guarded the other.
It was felt that the utmost caution must be exercised, especially during the night; and, after going the rounds himself, Captain Banner, on turning in, requested Gilbert to keep his eye on the corporal of the guard and the pickets.
"There is a rumor out that several Chinese spies are around," said the commander of Company A. "If it is true, we don't want any of them slipping through our lines."
"I'll caution the boys myself," said Gilbert. It must be confessed that, though tired, the young lieutenant did not feel in the humor for sleeping. His mind was filled with what Amos Bartlett had told him, and he could not help but wonder if the tea-merchant would recover.
"If he doesn't recover, his evidence against Ramsey Polk will be lost," thought Gilbert, dismally. "I believe I ought to take what he has to say down in writing, get him to sign it, and then have it witnessed." The more he thought of this, the more necessary did it seem to become; and, at last, he resolved to have the evidence put on paper at the first opportunity.
The night was dark, and it looked as if it might rain at any moment. A hot air was blowing from up the river, carrying with it a smell that was far from pleasant. The picket line stretched a distance of two hundred yards; and at one point there was a truck garden, now deserted, containing potatoes, onions, and a few vegetables pecullar to this district of China.
As Gilbert went the rounds, he came upon Carl Stummer, who was stationed where there was an inlet surrounded by a fringe of tall reeds. He found the German soldier peering intently into the reeds.
"See anything unusual?" he asked in a low voice.
"Hush!" came in a whisper. "I dink a Chink vos schwimmin' out dare!"
At once Gilbert became silent, and felt of his pistol to see if the weapon was ready for use.
A few minutes passed,—just then the time seemed much longer,—and Carl pointed to a spot just beyond the reeds. "See dot?" he asked lowly. "Is dot a log of vood?"
Gilbert did not reply immediately, for he was straining his eyes to pierce the semi-darkness. He felt certain that what the German soldier saw was a log of wood; but it was moving along in an 
"See anything unusual?" he asked.—Page 180.
uncertain fashion, as if the tide was sending it one way and some unknown agency another.
"Something is under or behind it," he answered at last, in a voice which Carl could scarcely hear. "Perhaps the log is hollow."
"Chust vot I vos dinkin'," replied the regular. "Und I vos dink der vos von Chink under dot log, hey?"
"I shouldn't be much surprised. Have you a bit of rope handy?"
"Rope?"
"Yes; a piece about thirty feet long?"
"Yes, dare vos a rope up der stream, vere da stharted to but town dot pondoon pridge."
"I will get it, and we'll soon see if that is only a log or not."
Running to where the engiaeering corps had been at work, the young lieutenant quickly procured the rope Carl had described, and also a bit of an iron bar with a ring at one end. Through the ring Gilbert shoved an end of the rope, and made it fast.
"Here goes," he said, as he rejoined Carl. "If that is nothing but a log, it will come in easily enough."
Holding fast to one end of the rope, he let fly with the other, that containing the bit of iron. His aim was true; and with a splash the iron landed in the water on the outer side of the log. Then Gilbert began to pull in.
No sooner was this movement commenced than an extraordinary thing occurred. The log gave a sudden wobble, and seemed about to turn over, when up came a yellow hand and arm, and hauled it back. Although he was not positive, Gilbert imagined that he also saw the top of a yellow man's head.
"He's there, sure enough," said the young lieutenant.
"Shall I schoot at him?" asked Carl, raising his rifle.
"Not yet." Gilbert raised his voice. "Come in here!" he called out.
To this there was no reply, and he gave a sudden yank on the rope. Over came the log, in spite of the efforts of the yellow man under it. Then came a splash, and the two on shore saw a Chinaman swimming away for his very life.
"Stop, or we'll fire at you!" cried Gilbert.
But the Celestial would not stop; and, raising his pistol, the young lieutenant blazed away. At the same instant Carl's gun spoke up; and both reports were followed by a scream of pain, for the shots had entered the fellow's shoulder.
"I think he would rather die than be captured," said Gilbert. "But we must take him if we can. He may prove to be an important capture. No ordinary Chinaman or Chinese soldier would be swimming around here this time of night."
"Of I vos a first-class schwimmer, I vos chump in for him," replied the German. "Put he might grab me und drown me, hey?"
By this time the corporal of the guard was hurrying to the spot, wanting to know what the two shots meant. He was a tall, powerful fellow from South Dakota, and was perfectly willing to leap into the stream and bring in the "pig-tail" by his hair, as he expressed it, although he 'allowed as how it would be dead easy to plug him fer keeps.'
"I don't wish him killed," answered Gilbert. "Bring him in if you can, but beware that he doesn't knife you."
"I'll have my eyes open, lieutenant," said the corporal. "I've been in the mines where the Chinks worked, and I know 'em all around."
The corporal was soon in the water, and his powerful strokes speedily took him to where the Chinaman was making for the other side of the Pei-Ho. Although wounded, there was still a good deal of fight left in the yellow man; and it was not until the corporal hauled off, and hit him in the back of the neck, that he became limp and next to helpless. Then he was dragged ashore, and made a prisoner.
The Chinaman was well dressed, and had on even his elaborately decorated wooden shoes. He would not speak, although it was afterward learned that he understood English very well.
At Captain Banner's tent the prisoner was submitted to a thorough search. On the inner side of one of his garments a little pocket was discovered, containing several sheets of rice paper, very thin and folded into the smallest possible space. The prisoner tried to throw these sheets away, but Gilbert saw and prevented the movement.
On the sheets of paper was a message, written in Chinese, which no one in the camp could decipher. "We'll have to take it to the colonel," said Captain Banner.
The matter was talked over; and a little later Gilbert was sent off on the mission, and with him went Dan Casey and a private named Hunter, as a guard. In the mean time the prisoner's wounds were attended to, and then he was tied up in the guard-tent.
The colonel was stopping at a deserted Chinese residence, nearly half a mile from the river. He had with him the third battalion, who were guarding a line of communication leading to the Taku road.
Fortunately, the way to the residence was already known to Gilbert; otherwise the party of three must have been lost on the road, which wound in and out over the marshland, with here and there a dangerous ditch to cross, where the Boxers had torn up the sods, so that no artlllery or cart train might pass. Occasionally there would come to their ears the dismal croak of a night bird, feeding upon some corpse in the vicinity. On every hand were those mounds of the dead, previously mentioned. But Gilbert was growing used to them now, and he scarcely noticed them.
"Who goes there?"
It was a cry from out of the darkness; and, standing along the roadway, the young lieutenant saw a picket from the third battahon, with gun levelled, ready to shoot.
"Friends!" shouted Gilbert.
"Advance, one friend, and give the countersign," went on the picket, still keeping his rifle levelled; but, when he caught sight of Gilbert, he lowered the weapon. "Oh, it's you, lieutenant."
"Yes, my man." Gilbert gave the countersign, which was Manila. "Can you tell me if the colonel is up at the house?"
"He was an hour ago."
Gilbert passed on, and his guard with him. At the entrance to the house another picket challenged him; but he soon went in, and the colonel was aroused. The Chinese message puzzled the commander as much as it had Captain Banner. "I must find some Chinese scholar for this," he said, and proceeded to hunt up a missionary without delay. When translated, the message ran as follows:—
"All is ready to blow up the Cross Mission. The powder train leads from Chow Fun's house. Will fire at signal of three rockets. Ching Wo."