CHAPTER XXVII
THE HAND GRENADE
“Did you hear that?” asked Ned of Jerry, for the sound of the alarm inthe night had penetrated to their barracks, and several had awakened.
“I’ve got him! I’ve got him! He mustn’t get away!” was shouted again,and then a glimmer of the truth began to dawn on Jerry.
“Corporal of the guard, post number seven!” was shouted from somewhereout on the fields about the camp.
By this time all in the immediate vicinity of the barracks, where Ned,Bob and Jerry had their bunks, were aroused. Lights were set aglow,and Ned, looking over to a bed which had been temporarily placed forProfessor Snodgrass, cried:
“He’s gone!”
“Yes. And I guess he’s the one who’s got him!” added Jerry with alaugh. “I think it was his voice that caused the disturbance. Perhapswe’d better go out and see what it all is. If it’s some one who doesn’tknow the professor they might take him for a spy, and use him roughly.”
“Who do you suppose he’s caught?” asked Bob. “Do you think it can beCrooked Nose or one of his cronies?”
“I don’t imagine it’s anything as dramatic as that,” returned Jerry. “Irather think the professor has been bug-hunting again, and he has foundhis quarry most unexpectedly, which has caused his jubilation.”
And this they found to be true. When they had slipped on a few garmentsand their shoes and had gone outside, they found Professor Snodgrasswalking along between two sentries. On the faces of the soldiers werepuzzled looks, but on that of the little scientist was a gentle andsatisfied smile, as though the world had used him very well indeed.
“I have it, boys!” he exclaimed, as he caught sight of his threefriends. “It is one of the rarest of its kind. I caught it----”
“He caught it on my post, whatever it is,” said one of the sentries.“And he nearly scared my supper out of me. Talk about snakes! I’drather see ’em any night!”
“What did you find?” asked Jerry of the professor.
“A new kind of centipede,” was the answer, and the professor showed, ina glass-topped box, a horrible, many-legged insect that was squirmingaround, trying to get out.
“Oh, landy!” cried the sentry who had apprehended the little scientist,peering into the box. “And to think one of them was loose on my post!Say, how long do you live after one bites you?” he asked anxiously.“There might be more where I have to walk, and if one nips me----”
“Don’t worry,” said Professor Snodgrass. “The bite of this centipede,while it is painful, is not deadly. Proper treatment will make yousafe. But this is a most wonderful specimen. I had hoped to find one,but not so soon.”
“And didn’t you discover anything else?” asked an officer who had comeout to see what the excitement was about.
“Anything else? No, but I’ll keep on looking, if you’ll let me. I mayfind a scorpion, though I am a bit doubtful about finding them so farnorth. However, I’m sure that just before I caught the centipede I sawa number of giant spiders with double stings. I’d like to look forthem, and----”
“Excuse me, Lieutenant!” exclaimed the sentry who had caught theprofessor. “But would you mind giving me another post? He found allthem animals he speaks of right here where I’m patrollin’.” And thesoldier looked more frightened than if he had been told to charge on abattery of machine guns.
“I mean you saw no unauthorized persons trying to get through thelines, did you?” asked the lieutenant of the professor. “The insectswere all you found?”
“Yes, but I haven’t found enough,” answered the scientist. “I shouldlike more time. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to hunt for specimens,and I was most successful.”
“I’m afraid we shall have to ask you to postpone your operations untilmorning,” said the officer with a smile. “We want you to feel free toadvance the cause of science as much as you can, but a war camp atnight is a nervous sort of place, and the least alarm disturbs a largenumber of men.”
“I’m sorry,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “I can, of course, wait until it islight. There may be more scorpions and centipedes out then.”
“I’m glad I go off duty,” murmured the sentry.
Official explanations were then made. As he had said, ProfessorSnodgrass had been unable to sleep, and had arisen, without awakeningthe boys or any of their comrades, and had gone outside the barrackswith his electric flash light and his collection boxes.
He had seen the centipede wiggling along in the sand, and had caughtit, his yells of delight, announcing the fact, giving the alarm, andcausing the sentries to think a corporal’s guard of German spies haddescended on them. Two of them made a rush for the professor, much tohis surprise. For when he was getting specimens he was oblivious to hissurroundings, thinking only of what he was after.
The camp finally settled back to quietness again, and the professorwent with the boys back to the barracks, but it was some time beforeany of them got to sleep again.
The next day Professor Snodgrass found a number of what he said werevery rare and valuable bugs from a collector’s standpoint, but which,to the boys and their chums, seemed to be utterly worthless and greatpests, for most of them bit or stung.
“Ah, but you don’t understand!” the scientist would say, whenobjections were made to his viewpoint.
“Well, as long as you catch bugs by daylight, and don’t wake us up inthe middle of the night, we’ll forgive you,” said Ned.
“Especially after disappointing us so,” added Jerry.
“Disappoint?” queried the professor. “Why, I couldn’t have asked for abetter specimen of centipede than the one I captured.”
They had a day’s furlough coming to them, and they decided to use it,when it was granted, in making a search for the crooked-nosed man.At the same time they could enjoy an outing with the professor, andwatch him catch “bugs,” as the boys called all his specimens, whetherthey were horned toads or minute insects that needed a microscope todistinguish them from the leaves on which they fed.
“This will be like old times,” declared Bob, as they started out oneday after the morning mess, the professor being a guest of Jerry’scompany.
But though the expedition was a success from a scientific standpoint,in that Professor Snodgrass secured many new specimens, it was afailure as far as the crooked-nosed man was concerned. There was notrace of him at the old barn. In fact the boys scarcely expected tofind any there. But they did hope to get some news of him from Mr.Martin, the farmer who had so unjustly accused the chums of taking eggs.
“But he isn’t here,” said that person, when the boys had tramped out tohis place and made inquiries. Mr. Martin seemed somewhat ashamed of therôle he had played, and tried to make amends.
“I guess you boys scared him away,” he said, referring to thecrooked-nosed man. “I don’t know anything about him except that he saidhis name was Jim Waydell, and he came along here, asking for work. Isized him up as a sort of tramp, but he was handy around the place,and, as I needed a man, I took him on, though I didn’t like his looks.But I figured he couldn’t help that. Anyhow he’s skipped, and I don’tknow where he is.”
That seemed to end the matter, though the boys had hopes of comingacross the crooked-nosed man again.
“Not only would we like to get him on account of the part he mayhave had in robbing the Frenchman,” announced Jerry, “but I think heand some others, including Pug Kennedy, are mixed up in a plan to dosome damage to the camp. We don’t know enough to say anything withoutgetting laughed at, perhaps, but we may be able to find out.”
“That’s right!” exclaimed the professor. “Keep your eyes open. If Ihadn’t done that I’d never have caught the centipede.”
They returned to camp, and the next day Professor Snodgrass had toleave. He was on his way farther south, to visit a scientific friend,the two expecting to go on a collecting trip together.
“I may stop and see you on my way north again,” said the scientist. “IfI h
ear anything of the crooked-nosed man I’ll let you know.”
Once again the boys took up the routine of camp life. They were beingmade into good soldier material, along with thousands of their chumsand comrades, and they were beginning to love the life, hard as it wasat times.
They drilled, and drilled, and drilled again; they perfected themselvesin the use of the rifle and the bayonet; and they received machine guninstructions.
“What is it to be to-day?” asked Bob, as they went out from the messhall. “Do we hike or shoot?”
“Hand grenade practice,” answered Jerry.
“Good!” exclaimed Ned.
There was a fascination in hurling the lemon-shaped projectiles fromtrenches, and watching them blow up the earth and stones beyond, wheresome Germans were supposed to be hiding.
Hand grenades are of several kinds. That used at Camp Dixton was avariation of the Mills bomb, consisting of a hollow metal container,shaped like a lemon, but somewhat larger. It is made of cast iron andis crisscrossed and scored with a number of depressed cuts, whichdivide the surface of the grenade into lozenge-like sections. Thegrenade is filled with a powerful explosive, set off by a time fuse,and when the bomb detonates it bursts into pieces, along the scoredlines, and the hundreds of lozenge-like pieces of iron become so manybullets, flying in all directions.
The hand grenade is thrown with a motion such as a cricketer uses in“bowling” the ball. It is an overhand style of throwing, and this hasbeen found best for accuracy and does not tire the arm as much as astraight throw. The arm is held stiff as the bomb is hurled.
The time fuse can be set to explode the bomb as it reaches the othertrench, or it may be made to explode in mid-air, and, also, thedetonation can be made to take place after the bomb has landed.
As long as the bomb is held in the hand it is harmless, for the fingerspress down on an outside lever that controls the firing mechanism. Butas soon as this hold is released, after the bomb has been made readyfor firing, it is likely to explode. Consequently after a bomb has beenhurled away from one, it is a good thing to keep one’s distance from it.
“Lively work now, boys!” called the captain, as Ned, Bob and Jerry,with their chums, entered the trench for the hand grenade work. “Justimagine there are a lot of Germans in that other trench who needextermination.”
The practice began, and for a time one would have thought a real battlewas in progress, so rapid were the explosions of the grenades. A shortdistance down the trench, in which the Cresville friends were, stoodPug Kennedy. They had seen little of him during the last few days, as,owing to an infraction of the rules, he had spent some time in theguardhouse. But now he was out.
“This way of throwing these lemons makes me tired!” exclaimed Pug. “Whycan’t I throw one like a baseball? I can make a better hit that way,and I’m going to.”
Before any of his comrades could tell him not to disobey orders thisway, Pug suddenly threw a bomb. In making the underhand toss, his elbowstruck the edge of the trench, the grenade left his hand and fell afew feet away, directly in front of a line of soldiers crouched in thedepression.
“Now look what you did!” yelled the corporal in charge of Pug’s squad.“That’ll go off in a second or two!”
“Heads down, every one!” cried a lieutenant who had seen what hadhappened.
The bomb, with the fuse set to explode it in a short time, lay on theground just outside the trench that was filled with young soldiers.Pug’s recklessness had endangered all their lives.