show you the plane.”
In a few minutes they stood before the ship. It was apparently uninjured, but the spark was dead. Carnes went back to the tunnel mouth to guard against surprise while Dr. Bird and McCready labored over the motor. Despite the best of both of them, no spark could be coaxed from the coil. As a last resort, Dr. Bird short-circuited the cells with a screwdriver blade. No answering spark came from the terminals.
“Dead as a mackerel,” he remarked. “I guess that ends that hope. Let’s get the machine guns out of her. Well have another attack soon and they’ll be more effective than our pistols.”
It was the work of a few minutes to dismount the two Brownings from the plane. Carrying the two guns, Dr. Bird joined Carnes while McCready staggered along laden down with belts of ammunition.
“Do you remember that rocky knoll we passed just before we landed?” asked the lieutenant. “If we can get this stuff there before we are attacked, we’ll have a much better chance than we will in the open.”
“Good idea, Lieutenant. Carnes, connect yourself to one of these guns. I’ll fasten the other on my back and carry Feodrovna. We can’t leave her here to Saranoff’s tender mercies.”
Through the night the little cavalcade made its way. The thunder of guns from Fort Novadwinskaja kept up and the sky to the north was lighted by their flashes. McCready’s bump of direction proved to be a good one for the sought-for retreat was soon located. As they deposited their burdens and looked back, the lights of two trucks could be seen approaching across the plain from the factory. Hurriedly they mounted the machine gun. Dr. Bird straightened up and listened carefully.
“The guns are sounding less frequently,” he said. “Possibly the Denver has had enough and is pulling out.”
“If I know Captain Evans as well as I think I do, the Denver is not retreating,” replied McCready grimly.
“I hope she’s hammering the fort out of existence,” said the doctor. “However, our main interest just now is on the land front. Gunners to the fore. Carnes, you aren’t so good at this, better let McCready and me handle them.”
The trucks approached slowly. Presently the American plane loomed up in the glare of their headlights. A powerful searchlight mounted on the leading truck swept the country. Discovery was a matter of moments. Lieutenant McCready trained his gun carefully and pressed the trigger. A rattle of fire came from the Browning. A crash was heard from the truck and the searchlight winked out.
“Bull’s-eye!” cried Carnes exultantly.
“Down, you fool!” cried the doctor as he swept the detective from his feet and threw him down behind a rock. His action was none too soon. A burst of machine gun fire came from the trucks and a hail of bullets splattered on the rocks a few yards from them. McCready crawled back to his gun.
“Wait a minute, Lieutenant,” counseled the doctor. “A burst of fire from here will give them our location and probably do them little damage. Wait until they try to rush us.”
They did not have long to wait. A guttural shout came from a point a few yards away and the sound of running feet came to their ears. The rush was directed toward a point a few yards to the left of where they crouched. Dr. Bird swung his gun around. As the rush passed them, he released his trigger. A volley of screams and oaths from the plain answered the crackle of the Browning. McCready’s gun joined in with a staccato burst of fire. The attack could not live before that rain of death. A few running feet were heard from the darkness and a few groans. Presently the roar of a motor came from the direction of the parked trucks. It retreated into the distance and all was quiet.
“Round two goes to us on a knock-down,” said Carnes jubilantly. “What will they do next, Doctor?”
“Probably nothing until daylight, now that they know we have machine guns. I wish that we could make that thicket, but it’s too far to try. It’ll be daylight in an hour or so.”
The night was normally short in Archangel at that season of the year and the unnatural lengthening of the day which Saranoff had accomplished made it shorter still. In an hour red streamers in the east announced the approach of daylight. Hardly had they appeared than a dull drone of truck motors came from the direction of the factory.
“Round three is about to commence,” announced Carnes. “I wish that I could do something.”
“You can as soon as our ammunition runs out, which won’t be long,” replied McCready. “It will be a matter of pistols at close quarters.”
The trucks approached to within a half mile and stopped. The distance was too great to warrant wasting any of their scanty store of ammunition at such long range. In the dim light they would see the Russians working at the trucks. Presently a flash came from the plain. A whining sound filled the air. With a crash a three-inch shell broke behind them.
“No fun,” remarked the doctor. “We’ll have to get better cover than this.”
A second shell whined through the air and burst over their heads. A third burst a few yards in front of them.
“They have us bracketed now,” said McCready. “We’d better slide back a piece before they start rapid fire.”
Dragging their prisoner with them, the three men made their way to the reverse side of the knoll. A short search revealed an overhanging ledge under which they crouched in comparative safety from anything but a direct hit above them.
“We’re all right here except for the fact that they may rush us under cover of the fire,” said the doctor. “One man will have to keep watch all the time and it will be a dangerous detail. I’ll take the first hitch.”
“You will not!” exclaimed Carnes emphatically. “I have done nothing so far and I am the least important member of the party. I’ll do the watching.”
“Let’s draw straws,” suggested McCready. “I’m willing to do that, but if it’s a matter of volunteering, I refuse to yield to the civilian branches of the government. The Navy has traditions to uphold, you know.”
“McCready’s right,” replied the doctor. “Get straws, Lieutenant, and we’ll draw.”
McCready picked up three bits of grass and held them out.
“The shortest goes on watch,” he said. Carnes and the doctor drew, McCready exhibited the remaining bit of grass. It was the shortest of the three. He waited until the next shell burst above them and then stepped out from the shelter.
“I’ll relieve you in fifteen minutes,” said Carnes as he left.
“Right.”
When the lieutenant had left, Dr. Bird removed the gag from Feodrovna’s mouth and tried to argue with her, but the Russian girl only glared her hatred and refused to talk other than to abuse him. With a sigh, the doctor gave over his efforts and talked to Carnes. The time passed slowly with a constant rain of shells on the knoll.
“It’s time for my relief,” said Carnes at length. As he spoke the hail of shells on the knoll ceased.
“What the dickens?” cried the doctor.
He and Carnes jumped from their shelter and ran over the knoll. On the plain a few hundred yards from them, a straggling line of Russians were advancing with fixed bayonets. McCready was nowhere in sight.
“Where the devil is McCready?” cried the doctor. “He must have been killed. Hello, one of the guns is gone, too. There’s only a belt and a half of ammunition left. I’ll try to break that attack up.”
He advanced to the gun and trained it carefully. When he pressed the trigger a dull click came from the gun.
“Misfire!” he cried. He drew back the bolt and inserted a fresh cartridge. Again the gun clicked harmlessly. Dr. Bird ejected the shell and examined it. A deep indentation appeared on the primer. Hurriedly he tried a half dozen more cartridges but they refused to explode. He turned a keen gaze toward the trucks. On the ground was set a tube-like projector pointing toward them. Dr. Bird swore softly and jerked his pistol from its holster. The hammer clicked futilely on a cartridge.
“Stymied!” he exclaimed. “They have that portable ray mechanism, with them, which disabled our bombs. It’s hand to hand, Carnesy, old dear. I wonder where McCready is.”
