CHAPTER XVI
THE HOLLOW TOOTH
Bubu had been running at large--and in the daytime. He had come fromthe north. Ruth believed the dog had crossed the lines and just nowhad arrived at the chateau after his long and perilous journey.
Yet for a greyhound the fifteen or twenty kilometers between thechateau and the battle front was a mere nothing. At the rate the girlhad seen the "werwolf" flying over the fields, he must have coveredthat distance faster than an automobile. And, too, he would take aroute much more direct.
The countess seemed to have forgotten Ruth's presence; but the girlcould not well draw her arm away and remain behind. Besides, she wasdesperately eager to know what would be done to Bubu, or with him, nowthat he had returned to the chateau. It was not unwillingly that thegirl accompanied the countess.
It was some distance around the great building to the rear. They cameupon the excited Dolge and the big dog, the latter lapping water out ofa pan near the well house.
"_Non_! _non_!" cried the countess warningly. "Not that, Dolge. Hemust not be allowed too much cold water after his so-exciting run. Itis not good for him."
The gardener stooped to take the pan away, and the greyhound growled."Oh, la, la!" mumbled Dolge. "Name of a mouse! Would you butcher me,you of bloody mind?"
Ruth noticed that the barrel of the greyhound was almost white, whichassisted in giving him that ghostly appearance at night.
The countess left Ruth and hurried forward. She did not stoop, butwith her foot she straightway overturned the pan, sending the water outon the stones.
The dog looked up at her, wide-mouthed and with tongue hanging. But hedid not offer to molest her. He only dropped his head again, and withhis pink tongue sought to lap up the moisture from the stones.
"The collar, Dolge," commanded Madame la Countess.
The old man hobbled forward with the wide leather strap attached to thechain. The strap was decorated with big brass rivet heads. Shebuckled it around the neck of the panting dog. He lapped her hands.
"Ah, naughty one," she murmured, "would you run the fields like a wilddog? The blanket, Dolge. He may take cold."
Already the gardener was bringing the covering. They fastened it aboutBubu, who finally shook himself and would have lain down had not thecountess said sharply:
"Nay, nay! All is not yet finished, Bubu. Open thy mouth--so!"
She forced open the big dog's jaws. Rather, at a touch he allowed herto hold his dripping jaws apart.
"Dolge!" she demanded decisively, "can you see?"
"_Oui, oui, Madame_!" the old man chattered, shaking his headvigorously. "But not for me will he keep his jaws apart. I am not tobe made into sausage-meat, I hope?"
The countess laughed at him. "Hold his mouth open, then. He would notdesire to bite; but----"
Ruth, amazed, saw her white fingers fumble inside the dog's open maw.She pulled what seemed to be a white rubber cap from one of hisgrinders. Quickly and skilfully, with a fine knitting needle, thecountess ripped from this rubber casing what the girl thought lookedlike a twist of oiled paper.
"All right, my good Dolge. You may let him go," she said, hiding thetwist of paper in her palm. "Let him rest--poor fellow!"
She patted the greyhound with the sole of her slipper and the big dogyawned; then laid his head upon his paws. He was still panting, hissides heaving heavily. His legs and feet were bedaubed with mud.
"He has come a long way," the countess said coolly to Ruth. "Let us goin, Mademoiselle. It must be that our tea is ready."
She seemed to consider Ruth quite worthy of her confidence. TheAmerican girl knew that she was on the verge of an important discovery.It could not be that Bubu carried messages to Germany to give aid andcomfort to the enemy! That suspicion was put to rest.
Bubu was being used to bring news from French spies across the battlelines. Otherwise the countess would never have allowed Ruth todiscover this mystery of the "werwolf."
And how shrewd was the method followed in the use of the obedient dog!A hollow tooth, which would be overlooked even if the enemy shot andexamined the animal.
Ruth wanted to ask a hundred questions; but she did not open her lipsIt might be that the countess supposed she was already aware of the usemade of Bubu, and how he was used. The American girl had been broughtto the chateau by Monsieur Lafrane, the agent of the French secretservice bureau. And the countess knew, of course, his business.
As soon as they were in the library, where the tea things were laid,the countess proceeded to smooth out the bit of paper and examine itunder a strong reading glass.
"Ah!" she cried, in a moment, her smooth cheeks flushing and her eyesbrightening. "He is well! My dear boy!"
Her joy urged Ruth to question her, yet the girl hesitated. Her eyes,however, revealed to the countess her consuming curiosity.
"Mademoiselle!" exclaimed the old lady, "do you not _know_?"
"I--I don't know what you mean, Madame," stammered Ruth.
"It is from the count--my Allaire!"
"The message is from Count Marchand?" cried the girl, in utteramazement.
"But yes. He does not forget his old mother. When able, he alwayssends me word of cheer. Of course," she added, looking at the Americangirl curiously now, "there is something else upon the paper. Hismessage to his mother is not a line. You understand, do you not?Monsieur Lafrane, of course----"
"Monsieur Lafrane has never told me a word," Ruth hastened to say. "Ionly suspected before to-day that Bubu carried messages back and forthacross the lines."
"Ah, but you are to be trusted," the countess said cheerfully. "We dowhat the Anglais call--how is it?--'our little bit'? Bubu and I. He,too, is French!" and she said it proudly.
"And for years, Mademoiselle, we have established this couriership ofBubu's." She laughed. "Do you know what the farmers say of ourso-good dog?"
Ruth nodded. "I have heard the story of the werwolf. And, really,Madame, the look of him as he runs at night would frighten anybody. Heis ghostly."
The countess nodded. "In that's his safety--and has been since beforethe war. For, know you, Mademoiselle, _all_ France was not asleepduring those pre-war years when the hateful Hun was preparing andpreparing.
"My husband, Mademoiselle Fielding, was a loyal and a far-sighted man.He did not play politics, and seek to foment trouble for the Republicas so many of our old and noble families did. Now, thank heaven, theyare among our most faithful workers for la patrie.
"But, see you, Count Marchand owned a small estate near Merz, which isjust over the border in Germany. Sometimes he would gothere--sometimes to drink the waters, for there are springs of note,perhaps for the hunting, for there is a great forest near. He wouldalways take Bubu with him.
"And so we taught Bubu to run back and forth between here and there.He carried messages around his neck in those times. Quite simple andplain messages, had he been caught at the frontier and examined.
"It was our Henri who resorted to the hollow tooth, and that since thewar began. Bubu had one big tooth with a spot on it. Henri knew anAmerican dentist in Paris. Ah, what cannot these Americans do!" andthe countess laughed.
"We took Bubu to Paris and had the decayed spot drilled out. The toothis sound at the root. The dentist made the hole as large as possibleand then we moulded the rubber caps to close it. You see how themessages are sent?"
"Remarkable, Madame!" murmured Ruth. "But?"
"Ah? Who sends the messages from beyond the German lines? Now it isCount Allaire himself," she hastened to explain. "In disguise he wentthrough the lines some weeks ago. The agent who was there came undersuspicion of the Germans."
"And he lives at the castle over there in Germany--openly?" gasped Ruth.
"Nay, nay! It is no castle at best," and the countess laughed. "It isby no means as great a place as this. It was a modest little house andis now the comfortable quarters of a fat old Prussian general.
> "But upon the estate is the cottage of a loyal Frenchman. He wasgardener there in my husband's time. But as he bears a German name andhis wife is German, they have never suspected him.
"It is with this old gardener, Brodart, my son communicates; and it isto him our good Bubu goes."
"But how can the dog get across No Man's Land?" cried Ruth. "I do notunderstand that at all!"
"There are bare and bleak places between the lines which we knownothing about," the countess said, shaking her head. "Not in allplaces are the two armies facing each other at a distance of a fewhundred yards. There is the lake and swampland of Savoie, forinstance. A great space divides the trenches there--all of two miles.Patrols are continually passing to and fro by night there, and fromboth sides. A man can easily get through, let alone a dog.
"Hush!" she added, lowering her voice. "Of course, I fear nobody herenow. Poor Bessie--who was faithful to me for so many years--wascontaminated by German gold. But she was half German at best. It waswell the poor soul escaped as she did.
"However, my remaining servants I can trust. Yet there are things onedoes not speak of, Mademoiselle. You understand? There are many goodmen and true who take their lives in their hands and go back and forthbetween the enemy's lines and our own. They offer their lives upon thealtar of their country's need."