"The slut," he kept repeating without particular emphasis, "the
little slut! I thought she'd fallen for me. I thought she was my
girl. And now to do that! And now to go for to do us in like that--"
"Well, we're all right, ain't we?" quavered Macniff. "We make our
getaway all right, don't we? Don't we?"
"I can't understand--"
"Say, listen, Harry. To blazes with Helsa! She's hollered and that
ends her. But can we make our getaway? And how about them Germans
waitin' for us by that there crucifix on top of this mountain? Where
do they get off? Does this guy, Recklow, get them?"
"He can't get six men alone."
"Well, can't he sic the Swiss onto 'em?"
A terrible doubt arose in Skelton's mind: "Recklow wouldn't come
here alone. He's got his men in these woods! That damn woman fixed
all this. It's a plant! She's framed us! What do I care about the
Germans on the mountain! To hell with them. I'm going!"
"Where?"
"Into Alsace. Where do you think?"
"You gotta cross the mountain, then--or go back into France."
But neither man dared do that now. There was only one way out, and
that lay over Mount Terrible--either directly past the black
crucifix towering from its limestone cairn on the windy peak, or
just below through a narrow belt of woods.
"It ain't so bad," muttered Macniff. "If the Germans up there catch
McKay and the girl they'll kill 'em and clear out."
"Yes, but they don't know that the Americans have crossed the wire.
The neck of woods is open!"
"McKay may go over the peak."
"McKay knows this mountain," grumbled Skelton. "He's a fox, too. You
don't think he'd travel an open path, do you? And how can we catch
him now? We were to have warned the Germans that the two had crossed
the wire and then our only chance was to string out across that neck
of woods between the peak and the cliffs. That's the way McKay will
travel, not on a path in full moonlight. Aw--I'm sick--what with
Helsa doing that to me--I can't get over it!"
Macniff started nervously and began to run along the path, upward:
"Beat it, Harry," he called back over his shoulder; "it's the only
way out o' this now."
"God," whimpered Skelton, "if I ever get my hooks on Helsa!" His
voice ended in a snivel but his features were white and ferocious as
he started running to overtake Macniff.
Recklow, breathing easily, his iron frame insensible to any fatigue
from the swift climb, halted finally at the base of the abrupt slope
which marked the beginning of the last ascent to the summit.
The girl, Helsa, speechless from exertion, came reeling up among the
rocks and leaned gasping against a pine.
"Now," said Recklow, "you can wait here for your two friends. We've
come by a short cut and they won't be here for more than half an
hour. What's the matter? Are you ill?" for the girl, overcome by the
speed of the ascent, had dropped to the ground at the foot of the
tree and sat there, her head resting against the trunk. Her eyes
were closed and she was breathing convulsively.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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