“Time for us to go,” said Fred, with decision.  “We wouldn’t have much chance if they caught us here.  And if we’re to be of any use, those people have got to think that we’ve gone.”

“Right!” said Boris.  “Hello—­look up there!  I was afraid of that!”

He pointed to a monoplane, flying high and coming from the north, from the direction of the Baltic.

“Looking for the raiders,” said Fred.  “Let’s hurry.  I think we ought to report what has happened by wireless.  Your father’s party may need help.”

CHAPTER XII

THE TRICK

It was nervous work going through the lower floor of the house, through the garden, trampled by the rush of the Cossack charge, through bushes clipped and torn by bullets.  All about was a curious silence, broken only by the sounds that the birds made, and the humming insects, which were not at all disturbed by war and the ruin it left in its wake.  It was a relief to both scouts to pass into the tunnel.  There everything seemed normal, strange though the place was.  And in a few moments they were back in the great hall of the Suvaroff house, and were being greeted with delight by old Vladimir, though he reproached them, too, for coming back.

Their first thought was for the wireless.  Fred sent a brief report of what had happened, describing the escape of General von Hindenburg.  And then, as he was about to end the message, Ivan stood beside him.  His eyes were shining and he seemed greatly excited.

“Tell them that von Hindenburg has only a masking force here with very few first line troops,” he said.  “Most of the Germans are far to the south.  Their plan is to join the Austrians in an advance from Cracow.  Here they hope to hold the lakes with a few troops.  They expect our army to advance.  They will give up Johannisberg and Ortelsburg.  They will make no stand at all until we come to Allenstein.  The whole movement here is a trick.  They hope to lead us on here and then drive a great wedge into the heart of Poland, until they can strike at Warsaw.”

Fred made no comment.  He sent the message, then asked his own questions.

“You know of the raid last night?”

“I heard something of it—­and that the old fox Hindenburg escaped.  Tell me the rest.”

“I’ll be off,” he said, when they had done.  “Half a mile away I have a cache.  There is a motorcycle and the uniform of a German soldier—­a man of the cycle corps.  I shall follow General Suvaroff.”

“Can you catch them?” asked Boris, doubtfully.  “They ride fast.”

“Not so fast,” said Ivan.  “There may be fighting to do as well as running, and for fighting you need horses that are not too tired.  It would be foolish to save an hour or two by hard riding and lose everything at the end for lack of the power to break through.  And a motorcycle can do better than the fastest horse.”