Tom Slade, Motorcycle Dispatch BearerFitzhugh, Percy Keese
History
Tom Slade, Motorcycle Dispatch Bearer
Fitzhugh, Percy Keese
Boy Scouts of America -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Who but Major von Piffinhoeffer had first suggested the use of the
poisoned bandage in the treatment of English prisoners' wounds? Who but
Major von Piffinhoeffer had devised the very scheme of contaminating
streams, which Tom and Roscoe had discovered? Who but Major von
Piffinhoeffer had invented the famous "circle code" which had so long
puzzled and baffled Uncle Sam's Secret Service agents? Who but Major von
Piffinhoeffer had first suggested putting cholera germs in rifle
bullets, and tuberculosis germs in American cigarettes?
A soldier of the highest distinction was Major von Piffinhoeffer, of
Heidelberg University, whose decorative junk had come direct from the
grateful junkers, and whose famous eight-volume work on "Principles of
Modern Torture" was a text-book in the realm. A warrior of mettle was
Major von Piffinhoeffer, who deserved a more glorious fate than to be
captured by an American dispatch-rider!
But Tom Slade was not vain and it is doubtful if his stolid face,
crowned by his shock of rebellious hair, would have shown the slightest
symptom of excitement if he had captured Hindenburg, or the Kaiser
himself.
In the morning he rode down to Chepoix with some dispatches and in the
afternoon to St. Justen-Chaussee. He was kept busy all day. When he
returned to Cantigny, a little before dark, he was told to remain at
headquarters, and for a while he feared that he was going to be
court-martialled for overstaying his leave.
When he was at last admitted into the presence of the commanding
officer, he shifted from one foot to the other, feeling ill at ease as
he always did in the presence of officialdom. The officer sat at a heavy
table which had evidently been the kitchen table of the French peasant
people who had originally occupied the poor cottage. Signs of petty
German devastation were all about the humble, low-ceiled place, and they
seemed to evidence a more loathsome brutality even than did the blighted
country which Tom had ridden through.
Apparently everything which could show an arrogant contempt of the
simple family life which had reigned there had been done. There was a
kind of childish spitefulness in the sword thrusts through the few
pictures which hung on the walls. The German genius for destruction and
wanton vandalism was evident in broken knick-knacks and mottoes of hate
and bloody vengeance scrawled upon floor and wall.
It did Tom's heart good to see the resolute, capable American officers
sitting there attending to their business in quiet disregard of all
these silly, vulgar signs of impotent hate and baffled power.
"When you first met these Germans," the officer asked, "did the big
fellow have anything to say?"
"He asked us some questions," said Tom.
"Yes? Now what did he ask you?" the officer encouraged, as he reached
out and took a couple of papers pinned together, which lay among others
on the table.
"He seemed to be interested in transports, kind of, and the number of
Americans there are here."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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