The Boy Scouts in Front of Warsaw

C >> Colonel George Durston >> The Boy Scouts in Front of Warsaw

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"It sounds easy," said Warren to Evelyn. "When do you suppose we will
start?"

"As soon as the car is ready," said the Princess. "Get wraps for
yourself, Warren. The nurse is ready, and she has everything needful
for the baby."

"Oh, Warren, be careful, begged Evelyn. I declare I have half a mind
to go with you!"

Warren laughed. "I have a whole mind that you will not!" he said,
patting her shoulder. "You stay right here and don't go out of the
place, and keep father and Ivan and Elinor where you can see them all
the time. And if we are not back by noon tomorrow, don't begin to
worry. Just lay our delay to a puncture or something of that sort. We
won't be molested. The paper from the General is as good as a regiment
of men. You had better believe that no one would dare hurt us, or even
detain us while I have that to show them."

"Well, be careful just the same," begged Evelyn.

"I surely will," promised Warren.

Everything went as smoothly as Warren had anticipated. The trip to
Warsaw was without a hitch. Again and again they were stopped by
soldiers, and each time the paper from the Commanding General acted
like magic. Indeed, they were more than once assisted on their way, or
directed to short cuts. In Warsaw it was the same. Warren, however,
avoided that part of the city where he thought he might come in contact
with Captain Handel, and driving by another route, approached the house
of the neighbor who had so kindly taken care of the homeless little
waif. The child was safe and well, having suffered less than they had
feared from its terrible experience. With a thousand thanks and
promises to write, Warren left the good, motherly woman and started on
the return trip.

They slept at an obscure little village that night in peace. The town
had been overlooked in the tempest of war, and was untouched.

At the inn they found good food and plenty of it. In the morning, when
they started, they found every available part of the car crammed with
offerings for the wounded soldiers. The chauffeur had spent a busy
evening talking to the horrified villagers and it is to be believed
that the terrors he had witnessed in Lodz and elsewhere did not lose in
the telling. So there were all sorts of offerings for the wounded;
bread and dried fish and cheese; and money, sometimes gold, sometimes a
single kopek wrapped in scraps of paper, written over with heartfelt
prayers of pity. There was scarcely room for the passengers to crowd
in the car.

Warren took the wheel, and the chauffeur, still the hero of the
occasion, stood on the running board and waved his cap and called his
farewells as long as they were in sight.

The baby slept most of the time. It was a good baby, and Warren began
to regard it with less distrust. They reached Lodz without accident
and as they drew up at the palace, now only a hospital, Warren's watch
stood at twelve. It had been a wonderful trip.

Everything was going well. The Prince was stronger, and his wife, the
beautiful Princess, was smiling happily.

All that day and the next the Professor and the three boys went from
office to office and back again to the army headquarters, getting the
necessary papers.

It was a difficult matter to get everything adjusted, but finally it
was done, and there was no longer any reason for them to remain.

They said good-bye to the Princess and her children, and at last
started on the journey home.

It was a time to be remembered as long as they lived. All of Europe
was plunged in gloom. Even the neutral countries they touched or
crossed in their roundabout way were oppressed by such sorrow that it
was almost as bad as war.

Reaching a seaport at last, they secured passage on a slow American
boat, and it was not until they watched the shore receding from their
view that they actually believed that they were on the way home.

"Just the things we have seen coming over from Lodz would fill a book,"
said Warren to the group at the rail.

"I wouldn't want to read it," said Jack, shuddering.

"Nor I!" said Evelyn. "Oh, boys, you don't know how funny you look in
the clothes you have on!"

"What's the matter with my clothes?" said Warren, looking down at the
very short trousers and very long coat he was wearing. "I don't see
but what I am all right, but doesn't Jack look cuty-cute? Kind of Lord
Fauntleroy effect!"

Everyone stared at Jack, who looked himself over in surprise. "It is
all they had at that store we went to that would fit me. I try to turn
those pants up, but they keep coming down." Everyone laughed as Jack
stooped and once more tried to turn up the loose trousers which
enveloped his slim legs. Left to themselves, they reached half way to
his ankles, so Jack, who was used to knickerbockers, had carefully
rolled them to his knee. The result was that most of the time one leg
or the other hung dismally down its full length. His jacket was a
short roundabout, something like an Eton jacket, and his shirt was soft
and frilled.

"I don't see why we didn't just wear the things we had on," he
complained.

"I guess not!" said Warren. "Those work clothes? Why, Jack, see how
dressy we are now! We look like somebody; a bunch of 'em! We have
got sample clothes from half the countries in Europe. See how neutral
that makes us! Take yourself, Jack. Your feet are Polish, and your
pants are German, and the top of you looks Dutch. Is it?"

"My cap came from home," said Jack furiously, "and so did my face! The
minute we get out here a way, I am going to yell Hurrah for America as
loud as ever I can."

"Wow!" said Warren. "Excuse me, Jack, old fellow, I didn't mean to be
disrespectful. We are all in the same fix as far as clothes go. Even
Evelyn looks a little queer. 'All the world is a little queer,' he
quoted, 'and thee is a little queer.'"

Safe on board ship, our party found that they were utterly tired out.
They slept hour after hour; they were furiously hungry. The days went
swiftly, without accident. Professor Morris, true to his new
resolutions, spent a great part of each day with his children, and they
found him a most delightful and amusing companion. He developed an
alarming fondness for the baby, which he persisted in calling "him."
He was fond of holding the quiet little creature, but after one of his
lapses into the forgetfulness of the past, he happened to think of
something he wanted to do so he laid his newspaper in Evelyn's lap, and
before she could stop him placed the baby firmly in a waste paper box
head down.

After that Evelyn watched him. They had brought a young refugee with
them as nurse for the baby, so Evelyn was not burdened with too much
care.

The boys played games and made plans and wrote letters. Ivan commenced
a diary. He said he would never be able to remember every single thing
that was happening, and going to happen, and he didn't want to forget
it. Warren planned to have an evening with the home Scouts and tell
them all that had occurred.

"And you will be Exhibit A," he declared, clapping Ivan on the
shoulder.

The voyage drew to an end, as all fortunate voyages will. The last
night came clear and fine. There was a stir of joyful anticipation on
the great ship. Everybody packed up what trifles they had been able to
bring away with them. Everybody talked and exchanged addresses and
said good-bye. The day of landing is always too, full and confused for
anything of that sort. Once more the Professor's manuscript seemed to
him to be a thing of value. He picked it up and put it down a thousand
times. It was a relief to everyone when the hour grew so late that
even the most restless turned in, and went to sleep or at least tried
to.

At gray dawn Ivan was aroused by Warren shaking him.

"Get up, Ivan, get up!" he cried. "I can see it!" The boy was shaking
violently, and his teeth chattered.

"What ails you?" said Ivan, speaking in Polish. "See what?"

Warren answered in English. "America. Home, the little old United
States!" A dry sob choked him. "Oh!" he said, "I didn't know I felt
like this! Hurry up, old Scout! Dress and let's get out!"

Voices sounded through the ship; people stirred and hurried with their
dressing. It was as though a shock of electricity had stirred them.
Certainly there had been no spoken call.

As the boys hurried to the deck, the risen sun, a ball of gold, blazed
like a celestial blessing, a flood of glory on the marvelous shore line
ahead. Warren rushed forward.

But Ivan, without a look, turned and made his solitary way to the stern
of the ship, and there, all alone, looked away over the empty sea.

For long he gazed. His eyes were filled with tears.

"Good-bye, my father," he said. "Good-bye, my country. I will come
back to you." He flung his hand out in a passionate gesture of
farewell. Then with a last look, Prince Ivan, homeless, countryless,
and fatherless, slowly turned, and, the boy Ivan went soberly to join
Warren, who, crazy with joy, hung yelling over the rail at the prow.

Before them, like the vision of an enchanted land, rose the wonderful
shore line of the harbor; and before them, nearer and nearer, clearer
and clearer, the Statue of Liberty, wise, strong, majestic, with the
only true majesty of earth on her beautiful brow, the majesty of
Freedom and of Truth.

They had reached America.

THE END

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