Young men, you may resume your journey!"

Thanking the officer in grateful acknowledgment of his courtesy the lads again found their compartment. Scarcely had they regained their former position before the train again began to move.

"Now, Ned," began Harry, as the wheels once more clicked over the rail joints, "produce! Let's have the secret!"

"Produce nothing!" declared Ned. "I have nothing to produce!"

"The package, man, the mysterious package of contraband spy literature!"

demanded Harry in a serious tone. "What secrets are you carrying out of this country to help the English?"

"I tell you I have nothing at all! I don't know what that package contained, nor do I know where it came from!"

"That's all right, too!" declared Jack. "But where did it go to so suddenly? That's the interesting part! What did you do with it?"

"Honestly, boys," protested Ned, "I haven't got it. I saw that fellow fish it out of my kit. I saw him put it on the table. When I turned back after glancing at the door the package was gone!"

"We know that!" continued Harry. "Now, who took it?"

"I'd give a good deal to know that myself!" declared Ned.

"Just how much would you give?" queried Jimmie from his seat in a corner from whence he had been listening. "I'd like to make a stake!"

"Jimmie pinched it!" cried Harry, pouncing upon his comrade.

"Deliver that package!" shouted Jack, going to the a.s.sistance of his chum. "Search him, Ned!" he continued, as Jimmie was dragged to his feet.

"Go through him carefully while we hold him."

"Go as far as you like," grinned Jimmie teasingly. "It's not here!"

"Where is it, Jimmie?" questioned Ned, seriously, "let's have it!"

"I tell you I haven't got it!" declared Jimmie, still grinning. "But I saw it when it disappeared and I know where it went!"

"Hurry up!" shouted Jack, impatiently. "Say something!"

"It went out of the window of the shanty!" declared Jimmie.

"Aw, go on!" scorned Harry. "Just jumped up and flew away!"

With a laugh Jimmie then related what he had seen at the moment when all the other occupants of the hut had been giving their attention to the disturbance at the front door. The tale astonished his chums.

"I saw the hand as plainly as I see my own!" declared Jimmie, holding his hand up to the light of the single oil lamp. "It was the hand of a gentleman, I should say. I mean by that, it was soft and well kept--not hard and calloused. The peculiar mark by which I shall know it again if I see it was a scar extending clear across the back. I somehow connected that scar with a saber or sword cut. It was an ugly wound."

"Did you see anything of the man?" asked Ned, eagerly.

"No, I wasn't turned far enough and I didn't dare move," replied Jimmie.

"All at once I seemed to comprehend that the thief was saving us a lot of troublesome delay, and I just let him make his getaway without raising a holler! I thought he was helping us as well as himself!"

"I think we ought to vote Jimmie a credit mark!" declared Ned.

"He certainly exercised wonderful self-control in not making a noise at a critical time," added Jack. "I wonder, now, if the chap at the door made the disturbance to a.s.sist the other fellow in grabbing the parcel. It would almost seem as if they were working together!"

"It does seem like that!" stated Ned, thoughtfully. "But what puzzles me most is the fact that the package was in our baggage!"

"I wonder what on earth could have been in the old 'U-13'!"

But ponder and speculate as they might the lads were unable to arrive at a solution of the mysterious presence and disappearance of the package bearing the curious mark. Weary with the exertion of attempting to solve the problem the boys at length composed themselves for sleep.

Mile after mile the train b.u.mped jerkily along the uneven track.

Occasionally a guard opened the door to scrutinize the compartment, but upon finding the little party at rest he again proceeded to his duties.

Gradually the train drew away from the inundated section. To the southward, whence they had come, the boys were leaving the scene of the mighty conflict, the like of which history had never seen. Behind them were the trenches filled with soldiers--some happy and gay even in the presence of death, others disheartened and downcast. There, too, they were leaving the great cannon with their roaring, screaming sh.e.l.ls, the vicious crack of rifles and the wasp-like singing of bullets.

Before them in fancy they saw a great ship upon which they would take pa.s.sage to the peace and quietness of their own country. Their dreams were filled with scenes of New York and their beloved club room, hung with trophies of the prowess of the members of their patrol.

At Amsterdam they would embark speedily, and after a week or ten days of ocean travel would see again the G.o.ddess of Liberty holding up to the world a beacon to guide their ships into a haven of peace and plenty.

Could the boys have pierced the veil and looked upon the scenes through which they were soon to pa.s.s their rest that night might not have been so tranquil, their dreams would perhaps have been less pleasant.

Thanks to the consideration extended them at the instance of their friend, von Moltke, the German officer in whose charge they had been placed during the last exciting scenes of their stay in the war zone, the lads had been accorded the privilege of a whole compartment. Due to this fact they found room in which to stretch out as they slept. This exceptional advantage was fully appreciated.

Toward morning the boys were awakened by the bustle surrounding the arrival of the train at Utrecht. At this point another pa.s.senger was thrust unceremoniously into the compartment. After performing this duty the guard hastened away to perform similar services for others.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said the newcomer pleasantly.

"Top of the morning to you!" smiled Jimmie, rising and endeavoring to smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform. "How's the weather outside?"

"Clearing rapidly, but there's promise of some wind," replied the newcomer. "May I ask how far you are going?"

"New York!" declared Jimmie with a grin. "That is," his added, "if this old ark holds together until we get to Amsterdam and we can find a ship there. It would be just our luck to find the last ca.n.a.l boat gone!"

"Been having tough luck?" inquired the other solicitously.

"Rotten!" stated the boy. "How far do you go?" he asked.

"Amsterdam is my present destination," was the reply. "My name's Mackinder--Robert Mackinder, and I'm trying to get out of this forsaken country, don't you know. I'm in hopes I'll be able to find some craft destined to a point where I'll be able to get home."

Introductions of the four lads followed. Mackinder proved himself an entertaining talker. Listening to his tales of adventure in various lands the boys were soon at ease. The man apparently had traveled over the whole world for he seemed familiar with all lands.

"I say," declared Jimmie, as their new found friend concluded a tale of privation through which he had pa.s.sed in South Africa, "that story of starvation reminds me that I am hungry. I haven't eaten in a week!"

"Jimmie, Jimmie!" cautioned Ned. "Get down to recent dates!"

"Well, it feels that way, anyhow," persisted the boy.

"Can you tell us where we'll be able to find a lunch counter?" asked Ned.

"We have nothing in our kits except some hard tack."

"There is no place short of Amsterdam where one can get anything like a decent meal," replied Mackinder. "There I can show you the way to a restaurant that is all right. It is not far from the docks."