Le Saboteur: III.

By C.C. Gaylord and O.R. Kirkpatrick

Chapter III.
C’est du Véritable Sabotage!

The next day was Sunday. It was the major’s habit to read some verses of scripture aloud to the men in the main barracks room before the day’s work commenced. No one was required to attend but most everybody did anyway. Even Allison lent his presence to the proceedings, sitting near the door with his chair tipped back and a cigarette in his mouth. Randolph could not fathom why Allison had come, for the fellow had often evinced his dislike of anything “religious”.
The major was reading from the first chapter of Romans.
“Now I would not have you ignorant, brethren, that oftentimes I purposed to come unto you, (but was not let hitherto,) that I might have some fruit among you also, even as among other Gentiles.
I am debtor both to the Greeks, and to the Barbarians; both to the wise, and to the unwise.
So, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also.
For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Randolph saw Allison fidgeting. He needn’t have come if he didn’t want to, he thought.
“For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith: as it is written, THE JUST SHALL LIVE BY FAITH.”
The major had chosen this particular passage with the vague thought that it might be some good to men who were in danger of being killed several times per diem. Unfortunately, it did not seem to affect Allison at all. He looked out the window and began to absently rock his chair on two legs. “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who—”
BANG!
Everybody jumped. It was not an air raid; it was just Allison’s chair falling over. He got up in embarrassment and went out.
The airdrome was quite deserted. Allison wandered across the barrack yard feeling unpleasantly silly. Why ever had he jumped like that and knocked his chair over? Well, it served him right. He couldn’t understand why he had gone to the service anyhow. He didn’t believe in all that.
He came across Renhard behind one of the hangars.
“What, you here?” said Renhard. “Didn’t you go to hear the sermon either?”
“I didn’t want to be put to sleep,” said Allison.
He was glad he’d met Renhard. It made him feel better to not be the only one who wasn’t in church. He offered Renhard a cigarette.
“Thanks. By the way, the major gave me leave to go into Dupond this morning. Shall I pick up anything for you?”
“A bottle of whisky would be appreciated.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Allison took out his wallet.
“Oh, never mind that,” said Renhard amiably. “I’ll foot the bill.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t bother. Well, so long.”
Renhard got on his bicycle and pedaled off.
Allison wandered about for a while longer with his hands in his pockets.
They really ought to be finished by now, he thought, looking at his watch.
He strolled over in the direction of the barracks, but on coming closer he could tell that the others were not finished after all. They were singing a hymn and the sound drifted out of the building. It is true that none of the men were particularly good singers, but their singing had this in its favor—they sang as if they meant it. It had a queer effect on Allison. He wanted to walk away from it—he felt that they were making fools of themselves—but he felt himself held there, looking idly at the birds flying over the distant trenches and listening to the music.
“A—men,” sang the men.
“Well that’s that,” said Allison, for the service was over.
Suddenly, he felt rather silly just standing there. He hurried behind the barracks lest somebody should come out and see him. The wall against which he leaned presently was the back of the major’s office. Allison saw the major’s telephone cord where it came through the wall and down to the ground. He got down on one knee and had a closer look at it, turning it slowly from side to side. It had evidently been tampered with. It may have been just an accidental thing, but it looked just as if someone had tapped it.
Allison considered. So there was a spy about, was there? A local, sympathetic to the Germans, perhaps? He would have to keep his eyes open.
The major was tacking the orders for the day on the bulletin board when Allison entered the barracks. Nobody seemed to have missed him.
“Has Renhard come back yet?” asked the major of Randolph, pausing on his way into his office.
“No sir, I didn’t know he’d gone out.”
“I gave him leave to go into Dupond earlier this morning, but I expected him back by now.”
Randolph noticed Allison was eavesdropping. Allison mumbled something to himself.
“What’s that you said?” asked Randolph after the major was gone.
“I was thinking out loud, that’s all,” said Allison. “Renhard only left about half an hour ago, you know. He hasn’t had enough time to get back yet.”
“I wonder what the major meant, then.”
“A” flight was assigned to go out on the morning mission, so its pilots began to get ready, but the rest of the men had some time to pass before their services would be required and so sat about in little groups, reading or playing cards.
“Bird-watching, Allison?” asked Randolph, for Allison had been staring out of the window for nearly five minutes.
“I’m watching the back of the major’s office,” Allison replied.
“Why?”
“I—” said Allison and then changed his mind. “Oh, nothing.
“Hey fellows,” he said after a moment, “what sort of attractions do they have in Dupond?”
“What do you mean?” asked Randolph.
“I mean, what is there to do there?”
“I don’t know. It’s rather a quiet town, I think.”
“Well it’s dull as spoons here,” said Allison, yawning. “And cards are no fun as long as there’s a silly rule that you can’t gamble with ‘em.”
“Hearts are trumps, Morgan; take that back,” said Kearns, who wasn’t paying attention.
“Here, Woodward, what do you do when you go into town?” asked Allison.
Woodward looked up from the newspaper he was reading.
“I’ve never been there,” he said.
“Play the queen,” said Hayes, looking over Morgan’s shoulder.
“Look after your own hand, will you?” said Morgan.
“I can’t believe you fellows!” said Allison. “Don’t you ever do anything besides fly airplanes and bum about the barracks?”
“What would you have us do?” asked Hayes.
“Well, this is France. Everybody in the world wants to go to France and here you are right in the middle of it and all you can do is play Bridge. Why, there’s Paris only twenty miles from here.”
“So?” said somebody.
“Who wants to go to Paris?” asked Randolph.
“Well, there’s the Eiffel Tower. You could go see that.”
“Anybody could see it on a picture postcard,” said Kearns. “Who played the trick? Was that Garrett?”
“No, I played the jack.”
“It’s my trick,” said Hayes.
“Well I don’t know, why does everybody want to go to Paris?” asked Allison, considering. “It’s supposed to be the finest place on earth. The best of everything, you know—the finest foods, the oldest wines, the prettiest women…”
Everyone looked at him as if they didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Oh, forget it,” said Allison.
They all did, except for him. He sat observing the card game but really his mind was miles away.
“Care for a game of Rummy, Allison?” asked Randolph.
“I wonder what Renhard means to do there,” he said, not hearing him.
“Do where?”
“In Dupond.”
“Oh. Perhaps he just wanted the exercise.”
“I doubt it. Maybe he has a girl-friend.”
Everyone was surprised into silence at this unexpected thought.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Kearns. “Renhard’s a sensible fellow. Besides,” he said after a moment’s thought, “he’s too ugly to get a girl-friend.”
Whatever support there had been for Allison’s theory dissipated at this remark.
“I remember in New York,” said Kearns, “there was a show where you paid two cents to see the ugliest man in the world.”
“Did you ever see him?” asked Hayes.
“No. I never had two cents. I was just thinking, I wonder if we could make any money off of Renhard.”
“What time is it?” asked Randolph.
“The clock is right behind you,” Hayes remarked.
“Oh, so it is,” said Randolph, blushing, “but—that is, isn’t it slow?”
Farnsworth looked at his watch.
“Only by a minute,” he said. “It’s 9:02. Don’t you have a watch, Randolph?”
“I left it upstairs. I suppose I might as well go get it.”
He left, more to conceal his embarrassment than for any other reason.
Everyone was quiet for a few minutes after he’d gone.
“Is he—well, sort of, you know?” asked Allison.
“The captain? Oh, no,” said Kearns. “He’s got heaps of brains; not a bit funny at all. And he’s a splendid flyer too.”
All the men agreed, although if Randolph had just been committed to Bedlam they would have defended his sanity just as strongly. No one was going to admit to Allison that there was anything wrong with the captain.

The time passed slowly until 10:00 when “A” flight returned. The men came in silently with troubled faces.
“Have any trouble?” asked Lt. Hadley.
“More than trouble,” one replied. “We lost two men.”
“Who?”
“Harris and Gardiner.”
“Sorry about it. Hope they came down on our side of the lines.”
“The fight was uneven from the start,” said a fellow by the name of Ross. “We ran into a whole nest of Bosche ‘planes—outnumbered us five to one. Jerries were making some sort of advance and that was their air cover. Thing was, somebody knew we were coming. Our guns had been tampered with.”
“Tampered with?”
“Jammed up,” said another fellow. “All of ‘em. That’s what put paid to Harris and Gardiner. I could see them signaling something was wrong and the next second my own gun quit and I couldn’t get it going again. There was nothing to do but bolt; we had hardly a working gun in the whole flight.”
“Who did it?”
“Who knows? Some German sympathizer, most likely.”
The men discussed this piece of news excitedly.
“Don’t you suppose it could have been an inside job?” asked Allison.
“Oh, no,” replied Morgan. “Most everyone here is above suspicion.”
He was too polite to say that the only ones who weren’t above suspicion were the two new men, as they hadn’t been there long enough for the others to be sure of them.
The major called the men together a short time later.
“I’ve just had a telephone call from the hospital in Crécy,” he said. “Harris was picked up in no-man’s-land injured, but likely to recover. No word yet of Gardiner. There seems to be some suspicion of sabotage, so we will have to take extra precautions. Security will be tightened and if anyone sees any suspicious activity he is to report it immediately.”
The door opened just then and Renhard came in. Seeing everybody standing about, he quietly shut the door and slipped to the back of the room.
“I’ve notified headquarters,” the major continued. “They promised to send somebody to look into it. That’s all, men. Dismissed.”
Randolph saw Renhard disappear into the bar and wondered why his rucksack clanked so oddly.