Название: America First
Автор: Greene Frances Nimmo
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Историческая литература
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McKenzie walked a little way with him – big-brother fashion, with an arm over his shoulder – and gave him careful directions as to how to proceed. There would be a moon if the clouds broke, his leader warned him, and he was to keep to the shadows.
"I'll be leaving camp myself," said McKenzie, "and will not show up again for a couple of hours. You will probably get back before the rest of us, so just roll up in your blanket and lie close under that ledge yonder – you will be perfectly safe there." A little farther up the mountain trail and McKenzie paused.
"Never mind about the dead man, scout," he admonished finally, "but keep your eye peeled for the live one, and – 'the best of luck!'"
"'The best of luck!'" That was what the men at the front said to a fellow when he was going over the top of the shielding trench into the dangerous unknown.
At the familiar phrase in parting, Danny drew a quick, deep breath. Yes, he was going "over the top" – and he was going alone!
Then McKenzie slipped quietly back, and Danny started forward up the long, dark trail alone. The ghost of a moon showed dimly through the black cloud-rack, now and again, and fitfully relieved the enveloping darkness.
Only once did Danny look back. That was when he came to the first turn in the mountain trail which his leader had carefully explained to him. Beyond that turn, and it would be good-by to the last cheering, reassuring gleam of their camp-fire, to the last faint sound of comforting voices.
Danny paused and looked back. Only two remained in the bright circle toward which his rapidly chilling spirit was reaching back. He recognized at once the tall, slim form of McKenzie, but – Yes, that chunky one was Biddie Burton. The two of them were standing close together, talking earnestly. And now Danny caught, by a sudden leap of the firelight, the fact that they were looking toward him. Biddie was nodding.
It was so bright, so safe back there where they had laughed and feasted and wrangled together. Then suddenly Danny thought of the young crucifer in the little Church of the Holy Innocents.
"Onward, Christian Soldiers!"
The next moment Danny was groping, feeling his trembling way, but that way was onward. The heart in his breast beat an alarm to every nerve in his body, but he kept his face toward the dim, dark trail. A lump rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. He gulped it down, and crept forward.
McKenzie had told him that a scout must keep his head. That was the hardest part. A fellow could force himself to go blindly to a haunted spot at night, but to think, to plan, to watch as he went – !
But he was a scout, and a scout must "be prepared." Danny forced himself to think as he went. He was not following that gruesome trail in response to Whitman's dare – he was scouting old Death Head in the service of his country.
Danny found that he could follow McKenzie's directions better than he had hoped. Now that his eyes were thoroughly accustomed to the dark, he could descry the blacker landmarks for which his leader had prepared him. After the turn in the mountain trail, an abrupt and jagged cliff ahead beckoned the way. The shadow of the cliff won, Danny waited for another appearance of the pale, cold moon by the help of whose light he hoped to locate the three giant pines – his next objective. From the pines, McKenzie had told him, old Death Head could be sighted plainly enough, for from that point it was silhouetted, black and unmistakable, against the sky, and its summit was marked by the stark, white, blasted tree of evil fame.
"That's where the dead man swings!" echoed in Danny's memory. And for a moment it seemed that he must give up and fly back to safety. But something said: "I'll disown you, sir!" And Danny again turned his face in the direction of his duty.
The moon looked out of the drifting clouds. Danny located the three giant pines in the distance, and for one blessed moment saw a reasonably clear path, skirting along the mountainside.
Darkness again! But Danny took the skirting path to the pine giants.
Once he nearly lost his nerve altogether, for suddenly there was behind him a sound as if some human foot had stumbled. The tenderfoot dropped warily to the long grass at one side of the path, and listened. A long, long time he listened, but not another sound did he hear. At length he told himself that the step was that of some wild creature which he had disturbed.
Then forward again! Creeping, panther-footed.
Danny reached the pines at last – and sure enough, old Death Head rose all too plainly before him. He saw, or thought he saw, a tall white something on its summit.
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