CHAPTER XIX. Captured and Under Fire.
Startled by the unusual circumstance of a human voice coming, apparently, from the very earth at his feet, the boy paused in wonderment. He glanced inquiringly about, searching for the owner of the voice.
No one appeared, and thinking it either a trick of his imagination or the work of some ventriloquist who desired to play a joke upon him, Ned again started up the slight rise, intending to hasten toward the group of officers, where he would get the receipt for his message.
Already the droning of the monoplane's motors told him that there was need of haste if he would make the return trip to the Grey Eagle and hope to even overtake his rival before reaching the aviation camp. Impatient at the trick he thought had been played Ned fumed.
"Halt!" again came the command, and apparently from the same direction. No one was in sight, and Ned was plainly puzzled.
Glancing along the slope to his right, he saw what at first sight seemed to be the opening into a burrow of a fox or wolf or some other creature of similar habits. Curiously enough, Ned detected a pair of eyes peering forth from the darkness of the excavation.
With a start the boy realized, however, that the rifle barrel protruding from the cavity was not the property of fox or wolf, but indicated the presence of a human being. A closer glance showed him that the eyes were not those of a wild animal, but belonged to a man. A glint of metal and flash of color from the blackness behind the small opening betokened a uniform. Ned's thoughts rioted frantically.
His first impulse was to turn and hasten from the spot as rapidly as his legs would carry him, but he realized that the man with the rifle was a determined character, and might not hesitate to shoot.
A volley of questions issued forth from the opening, but the language was one unfamiliar to Ned, and he could only shake his head.
"I cannot understand you," he at length ventured. "Can you speak English? Perhaps we might understand each other better if you can."
"English?" repeated the man from his location. "Yes, I speak English very good!" This statement was belied by his accent and pronunciation, but Ned accepted it at its face value, giving his whole attention to the matter of carrying on the halting conversation.
"Why do you stop me?" Ned asked. "How did you get in there?"
"We stop all spies coming from the Germans!" replied the voice. "You will remain where you are and my comrade will appear!"
"That's nice!" scorned Ned hotly. "Why, you are entirely mistaken! I have never been in Germany! I am from the United States!"
"You have had a long journey," replied the other, with mock sympathy, "and will need a rest before proceeding. Therefore, we will be glad to have you accept the hospitality of our poor quarters!"
"But I am from the aviation camp to the westward of here. I am in a race with a French air pilot, and you will cause me to lose the race!" stormed Ned, beginning to see that the fellow meant to detain him.
"We have very comfortable quarters!" urged the other.
"Well, occupy them, then!" snapped Ned, "I am going on!"
"Listen!" commanded the other. "Unless you accept our so freely offered hospitality of the drawing room, we shall be obliged to put you to sleep in one of our nice new beds. They are quite comfortable, I assure you. No one of the occupants has ever complained!"
Ned caught the significance of the remark, and decided that he did not care to become a lodger with this man as landlord. He knew full well why none of the tenants mentioned ever complained of the quarters. The tenants referred to would never complain again of any quarters.
Wisely concluding that nothing would be gained by further efforts to convince the fellow of his identity, Ned put away all thought of immediate escape, and with it also laid aside the cherished hope of beating the French pilot and his monoplane. That must wait.
A man in uniform appeared from behind a clump of bushes a short distance to the right with such startling suddenness that Ned nearly lost his composure. He carried a rope and approached Ned with a smile. Ned held up a protesting hand and waved away the bond.
"You don't have to tie me up!" he said. "I'll go with you peaceably. I shall not try to run away from such good landlords!"
"Will you not step into the parlor?" suggested the newcomer.
Believing compliance with their wishes the only way to placate them, Ned followed his captor to the clump of bushes, behind which he discovered a narrow shaft leading downwards into the earth. Steps, uneven but firm, were cut into the sloping side, affording sure footing.
Under a low lintel Ned stooped and found himself in a sort of cave or cellar, the sides propped and supported by short lengths of small saplings, the roof braced with larger logs, the only opening, the burrow-like hole in the hillside, providing light and ventilation.
A bunk with straw for mattress afforded sleeping accommodation, while straw was plentifully strewn on the floor, making a fine rug.
"I do not understand the arrangement," Ned began, as he surveyed the interior of the place. "What is the idea? Why bring me here?"
"If I had not captured you, another might have been minded to put you to sleep!" replied the first speaker. "Not all of the men in the trenches are considerate of Germans, but I liked your looks, and so you are here now instead of fast asleep," he added, tapping his rifle and smiling significantly, while he still looked out from his window.
"Germans are not usually welcome in the drawing room," added the other soldier, "and they are put to sleep as soon as possible!"
"But I'm not a German!" protested Ned vigorously.
"No?" inquired the other politely. "Listen a moment, I hear an officer approaching. We shall soon learn if you are a 'Bosche'!"
Ned was startled to discover a fourth person in the narrow confines of the place. The late arrival was evidently an officer.
Saluting, the two occupants of the burrow began a report in French concerning their captive. Evidently full details were being asked and given, for the conversation consumed much time.
"Come with me," the officer said to Ned at length, as he turned toward an opening that had heretofore escaped the lad's attention.
"But, officer," protested the boy, "my comrades are out there, waiting for me to return! I cannot leave them!"
A few words of command from the officer caused both soldiers to make hasty preparations for departure. They were evidently about to sally forth to capture the crew of the Grey Eagle. Ned fumed. He had been very foolish, he thought, to make so rash a statement.
The officer indicated that Ned was to proceed into the passageway.
For some distance they passed through a tunnel-like opening, scarcely large enough for a full-grown person to negotiate. At intervals an opening, somewhat similar to the one first seen by Ned, gave ventilation and light. It served the double purpose of window and loop-hole, the officer explained, in case Germans should venture too near. Once, as he paused to look forth from one of the openings, he called Ned's attention to a clump of trees some little distance away.
"Can you see that man moving about?" he questioned. "Yes? Well, presently you will see him throw up his arms and fall. Our sharpshooters will get him! Your men are too reckless. They expose themselves too much! Now he is preparing a position for one of your guns. Tonight your friends will drag up to that clump of trees a gun this big," he formed his arms into a circle. "Then the ranges will be given them, and they will start shelling these trenches. After they have demolished our so hardly earned resting places, they will charge. Tomorrow night they will charge. Then they will occupy these trenches—perhaps!"
"My friends haven't got a gun, except an automatic pistol and a rifle!" protested Ned. "We will not charge the trenches, because we do not know they are here. If your man had not stopped me I would never have suspected that this hillside was undermined as it is!"
"Ah!" ejaculated the officer, eyeing Ned closely. "Perhaps you tell the truth. But come," he added, "we must proceed."
Not far from where they were standing a larger excavation had been made, and this was fitted up more luxuriously than the other. A mirror was on the wall, a stove in the corner, and a telephone instrument rested on an upturned box near the bunks. As they approached, shouts of laughter greeted their ears. Evidently the life in the underground passages had not destroyed the soldiers' sense of humor.
Turning a corner, the cause of the merriment was at once apparent. One soldier was seated on an empty provision case, his face covered with lather. Another stood beside him, endeavoring to play the part of a barber, but with very indifferent success, judging by the expletives from the lathered one. All seemed hugely enjoying the circumstance.
As the officer entered he called out a low order. Instantly every man was on his feet standing at attention. Even the lathered soldier stood. Simultaneously their hands were raised in military salute, and remained so until the salute had been returned by the officer.
Picking up the telephone, the officer spoke rapidly for a few moments, then replaced the instrument and directed a question to the man watching from the window. That individual replied at some length, pointing out toward the same clump of trees that had been indicated to Ned by the officer himself. Evidently something unusual was taking place.
A sharp exclamation from the soldier on watch brought the others to their feet. He was excitedly pointing toward the trees and speaking rapidly. Ned saw a cloud of white smoke appear in the grove.
Following the glances of the men, he was startled to see hurtling through the air a large black object. It appeared to be approaching their position. Ned clearly followed the missile until it fell to earth but a short distance away. Scarcely had it touched the earth before their burrow was shaken and rocked by a mighty explosion.
Dirt fell from the roof in showers. Ned had clapped his hands to his ears as the missile fell, expecting an explosion, and thus did not suffer the painful shock that would otherwise have been felt.
Glancing from the opening he saw an immense cloud of heavy black smoke hovering all about the place where the shell had landed. An awful odor crept into the place, nearly choking the men.
Again a cry from the man on watch startled Ned. Another shell was coming! He turned to run back along the passageway, but stumbled on the uneven floor and fell. A shout from the officer roused the boy.
Looking backward, he could see a revolver leveled in his direction, and lost no time in scrambling to his feet. Just in time he dodged around an angle in the passage. Shot after shot came tearing into the dirt at his side. Luckily the officer's aim was poor.
In a half-panic Ned raced as fast as he was able along the narrow tunnel. His one thought was to regain the open air and find his chums, who would be frantic at his long-delayed return. He had gone but a few steps until the earth seemed to rock violently. A burst of air from the rear swept the boy off his feet. His ears were deafened by a terrific blast that shook the entire surroundings.
Scrambling upward beneath the weight of dirt that had fallen, Ned with great difficulty stood upright. Strangely enough, daylight was all about him. The roof of the trench had fallen!
Glancing backward, Ned saw a yawning pit where once had been the roomful of soldiers. A heavy black cloud of smoke hung over the place.
Astounded at the narrow margin by which he had escaped the disaster that had overtaken the men in the trench, Ned stood for an instant, unable to decide what to do. Then his training prompted him to return to lend whatever aid might be in his power to such as needed it.
Search as he might, the boy could find no indication of living men. All, seemingly, had been blown to atoms. As he was turning away from the scene, sick at heart, he brushed aside a low-growing bush. From an upper branch fell an object. It was part of a man's arm, with a revolver still clutched in the hand. Ned ran at full speed from the spot.
CHAPTER XX. Lost Above the Lines.
Impatiently awaiting the return of their comrade, the four boys sat in the Grey Eagle. Jimmie insisted on keeping the motor running, in order that it would be warm and ready for instant flight upon Ned's return with the receipt for the message.
"It seems to take an awful long time!" fumed Jack, peering into the growth of bushes nearest the Grey Eagle. "He can't be lost!"
"Lost nothing!" exclaimed Jimmie scornfully. "You can't lose Ned Nestor! He's probably having an argument with the guys over there, who will do everything they can to delay him so their friend can win!"
"That wasn't exactly a fair thing to do, anyhow!" protested Francois. "I think it was arranged for a huge joke!"
"Joke?" queried Jimmie, bristling. "Joke? If those things are jokes, I haven't any sense of humor. That's no joke!"
"It's a mighty low sort of trick, I say!" spoke up Harry.
"That's what it is," chimed in Jimmie. "And, say, Francois," he went on, "we like you, and you're a good friend of ours, but please don't try to smooth over this Frenchman's actions. It won't go!"
"All right," replied the lad. "I don't approve of it any more than you do, but I wanted to make peace, that's all."
"Well, you just remain neutral, and it'll be all right!"
A general laugh went up at this declaration. They knew that Jimmie loved neutrality and peace, even if he had to fight to get them.
Directly the clamor of the monoplane's motors ceased. The noise had been growing louder and more distinct, but now died away entirely. Jimmie stood up in his place and peered anxiously about.
"What's going on?" he questioned. "Is he stopping?"
"I don't think so," ventured Francois. "He's just shutting off power, and will volplane down to a point where he picks up the receipt. Then he will swing upward again under power and be away!"
The boy's conjecture was, indeed, correct. The pilot of the monoplane glided swiftly down to a level barely clear of the earth. Swooping along, he caught the immense hoop on which the message had been fixed, wrenched it from its standard, and again started upward.
"There he goes!" shouted Jimmie disgustedly, as the roar of the exhaust from the French machine reached their ears. "Engine working like an Ingersoll, everything all right, clear track, nothing to do till tomorrow! Great Frozen Hot Boxes; this is something fierce!"
"Keep your head, Jimmie," advised Jack consolingly. "We've lost this race, but there may be others. Ned will return directly."
"Well, what's keeping him?" demanded Jimmie, controlling himself with an effort. "I wonder if they are reading the message before replying."
"They're a bunch of pikers!" declared Harry.
Of course, we know that Harry's application of the term to the ones in charge of the receipt was in this case unwarranted. Ned's delay could not in any way be charged to their actions at this time.
"I'm going to run along the path a little ways and see what's keeping Ned!" declared Jimmie at length. "I know something's wrong!"
"Better stay here, Jimmie," advised Harry. "Ned wouldn't like it if you wander away from the machine even a little way."
"That's right, Jimmie," added Jack. "Ned might return here by another route than that which he followed, and you'd miss him!"
"Besides," continued Francois, "I think it is going to rain. I felt a big drop just now on my face, and it seems to be getting colder."
Glancing about, the boys agreed that a change in the weather was imminent. Their previous experiences enabled them to forecast changes with a fair degree of accuracy. Just now they could not decide what might be in store. Heavy clouds were forming on the horizon, but the sun was still shining on the Grey Eagle and its crew.
Speculating and debating on the cause of Ned's delay, the boys passed away several minutes. Presently the suspense became unendurable to Jimmie, who provided himself with several clips of cartridges for his automatic and, declaring his intention of finding Ned, set out.
"Go careful with that smoke wagon!" called Jack.
"Guess I know how to run one of these things!" declared Jimmie. "If it's necessary, I'm going to clean house on that bunch back there! They haven't any right to hold Ned so long as this! I'm sore!"
Walking rapidly, the boy soon entered the undergrowth that hid him from sight of those in the Grey Eagle. Every instinct alert, the lad slipped silently along in the general direction taken by his comrade some time previously. He was studying the ground carefully.
At one point he stopped abruptly, examined the turf at his feet, then glanced about without raising his head. He was standing in the very spot where Ned had been halted. Following the footprints with his eyes, Jimmie detected the opening, and on further examination noticed that the aperture had been made by hands wielding tools.
"Great Frozen Hot Boxes!" gasped the boy. "There's a cave, as sure as guns are iron! Some of those fairies or pygmies or hobgoblins have gone and geezled Ned! Here's their window!"
Stepping lightly over the surface, Jimmie took great pains to leave the tracks of Ned and his captor undisturbed. Arriving at the entrance behind the clump of bushes, the boy stooped, and for some time examined carefully every mark. At length he straightened and set off in the direction of the Grey Eagle, evidently following another trail.
Directly he glanced ahead and saw, to his amazement, that his chums were in trouble. He slipped cautiously out of sight behind a friendly shrub, and crept close to the machine and its occupants.
Jack, Harry and Francois had viewed with some misgivings the departure of Jimmie upon his quest, which they considered useless.
Determined to remain at the spot where Ned had left them until his return, they settled themselves and began a conversation on many topics. The scenery attracted their attention most, and they were admiring a range of hills to the eastward when they heard a command:
"Surrender! You will be shot!"
Surprised at the gruff voice, which they did not recognize, the boys turned instantly, to find themselves covered by two rifles held in the determined grasp of men in uniform. This, at least, was no joke!
"What do you want?" stormed Jack indignantly. "Put down those guns! Don't you know they might go off and hurt somebody?"
"This one has already accounted for several of your countrymen!" replied one of the men with a laugh. "It is ready to do a like service for you if you do not surrender at once! Come, time is short!"
"What does a fellow have to do when he surrenders?" asked Jack. "We strive to please, but are not quite posted as to your customs!"
"Alight from that machine instantly!" commanded the other.
"Why?" questioned Jack argumentatively.
"Because I have told you! I shall shoot if you do not!"
"That's a mighty good argument, Old Scout," agreed Jack, "but we don't like your methods. You are a little too rough in your play!"
"Play!" stormed the other, fast losing patience. "This is not play, as you shall soon learn. Come, I shall not argue!"
"Well, the nerve of some people's children!" exclaimed Harry. "Say, Buddy," he added, "we're from the United States, and we don't see how you can boss us around like that. We haven't harmed you!"
"United States!" scorned the soldier. "So said the other. All Germans come from the United States! No," he decided, shaking his head, "you must invent some other story. That is not good!"
"Do you mean to call us Germans?" Harry cried, rising. "Why, you better look out or I'll get sore! We're not Germans; we're Yankees!"
"Have your own way about it, but come out of that machine instantly!" replied the soldier, dropping his air of banter and raising his rifle.
Just as the boys were preparing to obey this command, they were startled to hear Jimmie's voice crying:
"Stay where you are, boys! And you Landsturm fellows, drop your guns and put up your hands! Do it quick, or something will drop!"
Chagrined at the thought of being captured by a single boy, the soldiers attempted a show of resistance. Their opinions underwent a swift change as Jimmie, seeing their intentions, fired into the ground at their feet. He was advancing, keeping the soldiers well covered.
"Take their rifles, boys," Jimmie directed. "Lay 'em away!"
Raging at this sudden reversal of affairs, the soldiers could do nothing else than meekly permit their arms to be removed.
"Now, then," went on Jimmie, "where did you put our comrade?"
"He went through the trenches with our superior," answered one.
"Where is he now?" asked Jimmie, keeping his automatic ready.
Characteristic shrugs of the shoulders was the only reply.
At that instant the boys heard a terrific screaming in the air, followed by the boom of a distant cannon. Instantly they felt the shock of a bursting shell of large proportions.
"Look, look!" cried Francois, using the French language. "It is one of those dreadful shells. Look at the awful black smoke!"
For the moment all eyes were turned in the direction indicated. It was, indeed, as Francois had said. The dreaded smoke was there.
Again they heard the scream of a shell, and this time as it exploded the tremor of the earth was greater, although the detonation was not so loud as in the case of the former shell.
"That hit into something!" declared Jimmie excitedly.
"Where are they coming from?" asked Harry. "Who's shooting?"
"Those are the dreaded German shells!" replied Francois.
For a few moments the boys stood, expecting to hear other shells. None came, however, and they were about to give their attention to the soldiers when Jimmie espied Ned's figure running toward them.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" he exclaimed, rushing toward his chum. "Where did you come from, Scout? Aren't you lost?"
Ned shuddered and hid his face. He was horrified at his recent experience. In a few words he told the details.
"There's an aeroplane rising from the eastward!" cried Harry.
"I'll bet it's a Taube!" declared Jimmie. "It's bird-shaped!"
Upon seeing the flier the soldiers became panic stricken. They declared that all were in danger from bombs and darts, and begged the boys to take refuge in the trenches, where only lay safety.
"Let's wheel the Grey Eagle under those trees," suggested Ned, "and get into the trenches with them. It is safer than out here!"
No time was lost in carrying out this suggestion, and friendship having been established by Ned's safe return, all were soon at ease in the somewhat crowded quarters. Their anxiety was not lessened, however, for the German flier proceeded to pass above their position, dropping an occasional bomb. This continued until darkness, accompanied by a fog and rain, compelled him to retire to the shelter of his own lines.
Jimmie's hunger, added to the discomfort of the trench, compelled the boys to consider a change. Finding repairs to the damaged trench possible, a detachment of soldiers had appeared. They were joined by the two with whom the lads had become so well acquainted. "Let's fly back to the aviation camp and get supper!" Jimmie proposed. "I have got another of those bad colds!"
In a short time the boys had mounted the Grey Eagle and were away from the scene. Below and all about them lay the fog. Sounds came faintly up to their ears. Suddenly a piercing scream indicated the passage of another of the giant shells. A roar told that it had landed and exploded. Ned steered away in another direction. Below them a great flash of light accompanied a terrific roar. A cannon had been fired.
"Where are we, Ned?" quavered Jimmie. "Can you tell?"
"We're right over a battery!" replied Ned, shifting the levers. "They seem to be firing and fired at! We're between two fires!"
"We're lost, that's what we are," cried Jimmie, "and no compass!"
CHAPTER XXI. Coffee With the Kaiser.
"Lost?" was Harry's startled ejaculation. "Don't say that!"
"Why not?" inquired Jimmie, peering into the thick fog that enveloped them. "Why not say it, when it is so? We sure are lost!"
Gradually the din below them increased, as gun after gun was added to the number in action. It seemed that a general bombardment was in progress along the whole line. Ned drew the Grey Eagle to a greater height, for the sake of safety, hoping to be out of range of shells.
"Suppose we just whoop it up for a few minutes the way you're headed, and see if we can't get away from this racket!" urged Jimmie.
"With a nod of consent Ned touched the throttle, sending the Grey Eagle ahead on fleet wings. The machine dashed into banks of fog so thick the boys were soon dripping wet.
"Up, up, Ned!" cried Jack. "We're into a tree!"
A quick pull at the levers sent the Grey Eagle almost straight up. The tree was cleared by a narrow margin. Ned glanced about and shook his head. He had barely saved the craft and its freight.
Slowing pace and flying low, Ned located a clearing where he determined to land. He circled easily to rest in a plowed field of perhaps two or three acres in extent, and the boys at once proceeded to find shelter under a growth of trees beside the field.
"I see a highway!" announced Jimmie in a moment. "Also, I hear hens talking. Guess I'll forage and get some eggs and things!"
The boys were surprised at Jimmie's short absence. Bearing two fowls and a hatful of eggs, he was back with little delay.
"We're lucky!" he announced. "The house is all shot up, folks gone, but hens still on the job. There's three or four cases of eggs back there, just lying around. How'll you have 'em, fried, scrambled, boiled, broiled, baked, stewed, poached, omelette, or just plain eggs?"
"Make some coffee, too, Jimmie," directed Ned, "but don't let the fire show. No telling who may be scouting around here."
"Right-o, Scout!" agreed Jimmie, in a low tone. "Jack, will you get out that can of sliced bacon and the coffee, and I'll look after the fire. Harry, there's still water in the 'Eagle's' tanks for coffee!"
Jimmie took a stick about an inch in diameter, and with his knife sharpened one end. This he thrust into the earth, after clearing away the leaves and rubbish. Stepping to the Grey Eagle he took from its place a funnel used for filling the gasoline tanks. Plugging the lower end by using his finger, Jimmie drained from one end of the fuel tanks about a quart of gasoline. This he carried to the holes and poured a pint or more into each hole. A match applied completed the stove.
Jimmie set the coffee pot over one hole and used another for frying bacon. Plenty of eggs were available, so the boys did not place a limit on anyone's appetite. Jack afterwards declared that he never tasted better coffee or eggs. The coffee was drained to the last drop.
During the progress of their meal the sound of cannonading had been continuous. No shells had struck near their position, but Ned ventured to mount a rising piece of ground not far from their camp, in an effort to make a survey of the situation.
He reported that the fog was thinning, but was still too thick to permit of navigating the Grey Eagle. He advised getting a little rest. Gladly the tired boys availed themselves of this suggestion. Toward morning Jimmie, dreaming that he was pursued by a monster shell, woke screaming. This roused the others, but they remained sheltered by the tree.
"I hear more firing!" announced Ned. "I wonder if this is a continuation of the same battle, or is it a new one starting!"
"I'll bet it's a new one starting," replied Jack. "See that bunch of autos and men and guns out there on the highway! They're headed this way, too! Maybe we'd better move a little."
"They're going past," put in Jimmie. "They're headed west! I believe they're Germans!" added the boy in astonishment.
"I guess you're right, Jimmie!" Ned agreed. "How does it happen?"
"I know!" spoke up Harry. "We got lost and flew accidentally into German territory. We are probably now in Flanders."
"I'm hungry!" announced Jimmie presently, after the guns had passed. "I'm going back to get some more eggs!"
Directly he returned with a liberal supply of fresh eggs.
"After breakfast," remarked Jack, "I'm going to wring out my clothes and hang 'em up to dry! That fog makes things awful wet!"
"Nice clothes line handy," announced Jimmie, "see it?"
He pointed to a wire suspended not very far from the ground.
"What's that?" queried Harry. "It looks brand new. I wonder what it can be! Oh, I know!" he cried. "It's a military phone line!"
"That's nice!" Jimmie laughed. "Hello, Central! Oh, look!" he continued, "see the nice big buzz-buggy coming, and no officer near!"
All the boys turned to look down the road at an automobile tearing along at a rapid pace. It struck a hole, wrenched an axle, lurched heavily to one side and then stopped just before toppling over. Several men in the uniforms of officers jumped quickly from the machine.
One of the men at once produced from the auto a case from which he took a set of field telephones. Stepping to the side of the road and attaching a clamp to the wire Jimmie had discovered, he pushed a pin into the ground and began a conversation. Harry touched Ned's arm.
"Get ours out, Harry," exclaimed Ned. "Maybe we can get some information. I don't know, though, whether our phone would work here!"
Although the instruments seemed to be wound to the same resistance, Ned could make out but little of the conversation.
"It is in German," he said, "and all I could get was the last part. The fellow said something about 'Uhlans,' and I know they are the light cavalry of Germany. Possibly he is sending for a troop!"
"Must be some dignitary if he can get a troop of Uhlans whenever his auto breaks down!" mused Jimmie. "Say," he continued, "that bunch out there look hungry! Suppose we ask 'em to have breakfast!"
"Go as far as you like," Ned agreed. "There are lots of eggs!"
In a moment Jimmie was racing down the road. The boys saw him give the Boy Scout salute, and then point toward their resting place. After a short conference the entire party made their way to the spot where Jack and Harry were preparing new "stoves" and had already set a pot of coffee boiling. Another can of bacon was opened to supplement the chicken stew which Jimmie had been preparing.
"Help yourselves, gentleman!" Jimmie cried hospitably.
They accordingly fell to with vigor. It was noticed that the officer who seemed to be in command of the party, a tall man of commanding presence, whose well-knit frame showed years of training, did not seat himself, but remained on his feet. His stern yet kindly face bore evidence of days and nights of anxiety. The keen eyes seemed to take in every detail. The boys at once felt a liking for this man.
After all had been supplied with a plateful of bacon and eggs and stewed chicken, with an aluminum cup full of coffee, Ned addressed the leader, in an effort to be of assistance in their trouble.
"You have had a bad accident to your machine," he said.
"Yes," was the reply, "we shall be delayed a short time."
"We have a very good aeroplane there," volunteered the lad, pointing toward the Grey Eagle, "and if you care to accept, I can carry two of you to your destination, provided it be not too far."
"Thank you for your courtesy," replied the officer, "but we are traveling in a party, and do not wish to separate. By the way," he continued, "how does it happen that you are here?"
Feeling that he could trust the kindly face before him, Ned briefly recounted the main incidents leading up to their present position.
"What is your present plan?" asked the officer.
"I wish to get to Berlin as quickly as possible," Ned replied eagerly. "I shall swear out a warrant for The Rat, have him arrested and get extradition papers out and have him taken back to the United States."
"And what is his offense?" asked the officer.
"He has stolen some plans of United States fortifications."
"Ah, and he is trying to dispose of them to Germany?"
"I fear that is his intention. I am almost at a loss to know how to prevent his doing so. Perhaps I can get to see the Kaiser. I understand he is very powerful, and is also friendly to the United States. He might be able to help me have this fellow arrested."
"No doubt the Kaiser will be delighted to assist you in your most worthy endeavor. I may be in Berlin shortly, and if I see the Kaiser I will speak to him about your matter. We appreciate your courtesy, and shall hope to reciprocate. The morning is very chill!" he concluded, as if the subject were closed. Turning away he buttoned his great coat.
"Here comes a monoplane!" announced Jimmie, who had been scanning the morning sky, as well as keeping a sharp lookout all around.
"And what's more important, here comes a troop of cavalry," Harry rejoined, looking down the road. "They've got a lot of empty saddles! I wonder if they have been in an engagement!"
"Those are for us, I believe," an officer said, preparing to depart.
At this moment a roar from the woods behind the party told of the planting of one of the guns which had so recently passed. Another and yet another caused the earth to tremble. At regular intervals the cannon were fired almost as rapidly as they could be loaded.
Amidst the frightful din the boys saw the monoplane descend not far from their camp, but separated by a strip of woods. Their attention was diverted for the moment by the arrival of the group of horsemen.
Shaking hands with all five boys, the officer in command turned. A quick salute was exchanged, and the boys saw another officer assist his superior to mount. The horse was a magnificent animal and restless.
"Look there!" whispered Jimmie into Ned's ear. "See the boob getting up on the wrong side! He isn't much of an army officer!"
Ned's smile as he turned back toward the fire was not observed by Jimmie, who at once began to explain to his comrades how the man had gotten onto his horse from the right, or "off," side, when he should have mounted from the left, or "near," side, raising his left foot first.
The joke was hugely enjoyed until Ned explained that he understood that to be the only way a certain man could mount a horse.
"And who is that man, if you please?" Jimmie asked.
"The man we have just entertained," answered Ned, "the Kaiser!"
"Well, Great Frozen Hot Boxes!" shouted Jimmie. "Now that you mention it, I can see how much he resembles his pictures. Well, what do you know about our frying bacon and eggs and making coffee for him?"
Instantly all was confusion about the little camp. All the boys began talking at once, unmindful of the fact that cannon were booming but a short distance away, and that the enemy might reply at any moment.
Jimmie had already gathered and cared for the dishes, and as he came up to the party after a trip to the Grey Eagle, he seemed to be aware of their danger. Breaking into the conversation he said:
"Ned, we'd better be getting out of here! These Germans are probably shelling a French battery, and if the Frenchmen reply, or should make a charge to get these fellows, we'd be in a mighty bad place!"
"Jimmie, you're right!" decided Ned. "This locality is getting rather warm for fellows about our size! I'm ready to go!"
As the boys turned to take a last look at their camping spot under the trees which had afforded them protection, a shell came screaming through the air. Evidently the Frenchmen were getting the range of the German guns. The shell landed in the top of the big tree and exploded, covering the boys beneath with a shower of limbs and splinters.
"Oh, look!" cried Jimmie, pointing across the field toward the Grey Eagle. "See that fellow by the plane! Hold on, there, you!"
A man beside the machine seemed to be lighting a fuse. He laid a package on the engine, glanced at Jimmie running with drawn automatic, then bounded away through the trees with Jimmie in pursuit.
CHAPTER XXII. Thrown From the Clouds.
"That's The Rat!" shrilled Jack. "He's trying to blow up the Grey Eagle! That was he in the monoplane! Hurry! Hurry!"
At once the lad dashed toward the Grey Eagle. Without stopping to reckon the consequences, he darted for the package, seized it, with its still sputtering fuse, and started to carry it away from the aeroplane.
Harry, who had been close behind his chum, reached Jack's side in an instant with drawn knife in hand. It required only a moment's time to cut the fuse close to the bundle. A last spurt of flame showed that the effort had been successful. Both boys realized their narrow escape.
"What shall we do with this stuff, Ned?" asked Jack shakily.
"Put it on the soft ground at the far side of the clearing!" Ned answered. "But I'm worrying about Jimmie. He may get into trouble out there all alone. Can you follow and learn where he has gone?"
"I don't know about that!" Jack hesitated. "It would be hard work and, besides, he will come back all right! He won't stay long!"
"He won't be back right away if The Rat succeeds in giving him the worst of it!" declared Harry anxiously. "I'll go find him!"
"Thank you, Harry," Ned said gratefully. "We can't afford to lose Jimmie, and I'm afraid The Rat is getting desperate!"
Harry started for the spot where his chum had disappeared. He had not proceeded far when the boys heard the roar of the monoplane's engine. In an instant the machine rose in plain view above the trees.
"There he is!" Francois cried. "There's Jimmie on the machine!"
It was true. Jimmie appeared on the chassis of the monoplane, and seemed to be attempting to climb into the body of the craft. The boys saw him lean far out to peer around the curved side of the body. As the machine rose the pilot described an immense circle, evidently trying to get clear of the surrounding trees before attempting to lay a course in any direction. With the added burden of Jimmie's shifting weight he seemed to have trouble in keeping the machine steadied.
Two shots in quick succession were heard. Jimmie and The Rat were exchanging compliments. Neither had scored.
The machine was now swinging back toward the clearing, where the boys stood lost in amazement at the predicament of their chum.
Harry, who was nearest the Grey Eagle, clambered aboard and unshipped the magazine rifle Jimmie had used early the day before. However, he could get no opportunity to shoot without endangering their chum.
"He's coming right over us!" cried Jack in an excited tone.
"Sure! He's circling around, trying to get high enough to clear these big trees!" answered Ned. "But how can we help Jimmie?"
"Take a shot at the pilot, Harry!" advised Jack eagerly.
"Don't shoot, Harry!" cautioned Ned. "You might hit The Wolf!"
Nearer swept the aeroplane and its warring passengers. Jimmie and The Rat continued to exchange shots, but the conditions were unfavorable to accurate marksmanship. Suddenly the machine turned upward.
Horrified, the boys stood in their places, unable to move. Jimmie seemed to lose his grip on the framework. He dropped from the aeroplane.
Expecting to find the lad badly mangled, Ned dashed away in the direction of Jimmie's probable landing place. Jack followed at a rapid pace. Harry raised the rifle and sent shot after shot in the direction of the retreating craft with vindictiveness. The clamor of the motor suddenly ceased. Evidently a bullet had reached a vital part of the machinery. Realizing his danger, the pilot began volplaning down in an extreme effort to make a safe landing clear of the trees.
Harry ran in the direction taken by Ned, intending to lend his aid in rendering what assistance he might to Jimmie. A shell from some distant gun fell a short distance in front of him and burst, sending into the air a shower of dirt. Staggered and stunned, the boy, determined to do his best, blundered ahead. A bullet whizzed past, but he pressed on.
An attacking party, sent forward under protection of the French guns, was evidently trying to rout the battery recently planted by the Germans who had passed the boys at breakfast. Other bullets came singing through the trees. Frantic with fear for the safety of himself and his comrades, but determined to rescue Jimmie if possible, the boy went on.
Directly he was overjoyed to see Ned and Harry returning. His heart sank, however, when he observed that Ned was carrying Jimmie's form. Lying across Ned's shoulder, his left leg thrown forward and encircled by Ned's left arm, the hand of which clutched the boy's left wrist, Jimmie lay limp and helpless. His eyes were closed, and his head rolled from side to side with every movement of Ned's body.
"Is he——?" Harry did not dare to say the dreaded word.
"Don't know yet," gasped Jack, beside the leader and his burden.
"Where did you find him? What is that blood?" asked Francois.
"He's bleeding at the nose," replied Jack, answering the latter question first. "As he fell, he struck the top of a small tree and bent it until it broke. Then he fell onto the roof of a covered trench or pit and caved that in. We pulled him out of a mess of broken poles and dirt. They are charging this position and shooting, so we didn't dare stop out there to examine him. Get some water and open the medicine chest!"
Ned staggered to the edge of the clearing nearest the Grey Eagle and laid the boy's limp form on the turf. Harry had dashed ahead and now ran up with the medicine chest and a bucket of water.
Nearly exhausted with his violent exertions, Ned at once set about measures to revive the boy, if possible. Both the other lads contributed their best efforts to the same end. In a short time they were rewarded by seeing their chum's eyelids twitch. A gasp and shake of the head told them that Jimmie still lived. Harry threw his hat into the air.
"Hurrah!" he shouted. "Can't kill off a Wolf so easy as that!"
"Jimmie," called Ned, "are you hurt? Can you speak?"
To both questions Jimmie only nodded his head.
"Where are you hurt most, Jimmie? Speak to me if you can!"
"All over!" was the scarcely audible reply. "Great——"
"——Frozen Hot Boxes!" Ned supplied the balance of Jimmie's newest pet expression, and smiled as he observed the grin on the lad's face.
In a moment Harry and Jack were manipulating Jimmie's limbs to discover whether he had suffered a fracture. Then they rolled him over and began to feel cautiously of his ribs and spine.
"Just a case of having the wind knocked out of him!" announced Jack gleefully, as the boys rolled their comrade onto his back again.
"I'm going to sign the pledge!" came Jimmie's faint voice. "That was a drop too much!" he added, with a forced grin at his friends.
"Stop it, Jimmie!" commanded Ned. "That was too serious!"
"Did you get him?" inquired the prostrate lad.
With a start the boys remembered The Rat. They had seen the monoplane descending, but in the excitement had forgotten him. Forgotten, too, had been the danger in which they were now placed. With one accord they scrambled to their feet and began to look about.
"I move we get out of here as quickly as possible," voted Jack.
"You're right!" Ned assented eagerly. "Let's carry Jimmie to the machine, and be on our way. He will need a little help, I guess!"
Supported between Harry and Jack, with Ned carrying the rifle, Jimmie was helped back to the Grey Eagle. The boys began preparing for a quick departure from the spot to one of greater safety.
"What shall we do with the dynamite?" anxiously inquired Jack.
"Explode it!" suggested Jimmie. "With all this other noise going on, nobody will notice it. They'll think it's only another shell!"
The package still lay where it had been deposited. Harry picked up the rifle, intending to fire at the dangerous stuff in an effort to explode it and thus remove the danger of its bringing harm to anyone.
His first shot went a trifle high. The next was sent with truer aim, and a terrific roar greeted the boys. Just as the blast reverberated through the clearing several horsemen dashed into view from the highway.
One in the lead shouted an order to his companions, as he pointed toward the group of boys. Instantly the others dashed forward across the clearing. The boys were quickly surrounded by the horsemen, who threatened them with drawn revolvers. Harry slipped the rifle into its resting place.
The leader was shouting questions and orders in German.
Ned shook his head and held up his hand. He took a step forward.
"I cannot understand you," he said. "Can you speak English?"
"Not very well," answered the officer, "but good enough to tell you to surrender. Escape is impossible. You must come with us!"
"What is the charge?" queried Ned. "What have we done?"
The officer laughed loudly. Apparently the joke was a huge one.
"Charge?" he repeated incredulously. "Do you not know that war is in progress, and it is not necessary to have charge or warrant? You are prisoners because we carry our warrants in these," indicating his revolver. "You must either come with us or be shot. Which shall it be?"
"We surrender!" stated Ned hopelessly. "Where do we go?"
"March along with us. We shall ride slowly."
"But our comrade here has just suffered a bad fall!" Ned protested. "He cannot walk far in his present condition!"
"So?" commented the officer, with a quick glance at Jimmie. "Yes, he is evidently weakened, and is but a boy. We must provide assistance for him. You other four lads can walk, however, for a short distance."
An order was spoken in a low tone to two of the cavalrymen, who at once set off at a sharp gallop. The others prepared to surround the lads to prevent escape, while the officer himself offered Jimmie a ride at the rear of his own saddle. The horse was a magnificent bay, and Jimmie's heart bounded with pride at the thought of riding with the officer.
Refusing to answer Ned's further questions, and deigning no explanation in regard to the care of the Grey Eagle, the officer rode silently among his men. Not far from the place the boys noticed the two troopers returning with four led horses saddled and bridled.
"There," offered their captor. "You may mount and ride!"
"Get up on the 'off' side, Ned," suggested Jimmie with a grin. "Then he may think you are related to the Kaiser, like I am!"
"But the hair?" questioned the officer. He could not see the grimace made by the boy at his back, but laughed loudly at his own joke.
Riding at a rapid pace that kept the boys, and especially Francois, bobbing about at a great rate, the little party soon left the whizzing of bullets and sharp scream of shells a goodly distance in the rear. They approached a little valley through which ran a winding stream.
"I see a castle just ahead!" cried Jimmie.
"Yes, there are we going!" replied the officer. "There is headquarters where we take all distinguished prisoners, especially relatives of the Kaiser. And others who have red hair," he added with a chuckle.
Turning in at a great gate, flanked on either side by immense stone posts, the party clattered up the path to the very castle itself. At the entrance they were halted by a sentry, who permitted them to pass through after receiving an answer to his challenge.
The boys gazed with frank curiosity at the scenes about them. It seemed like a page clipped from a story book. There they recognized the many features about which they had read but scarcely believed existed.
Jimmie was helped down from his position, while the other boys dismounted without assistance. For a few moments they found walking very difficult, owing to the strange experience of riding horseback.
"I wish they had couches for travelers!" announced Jimmie. "I feel rather tired somehow! This has been a hard day!"
Ned was at once overtaken with remorse at his forgetfulness of Jimmie's shaken condition. He was quickly busy with arrangements for his chum's comfort. The other lads gathered about, eager to help.
"I say, officer," Ned called out, "this boy needs rest."
"And he shall have it!" a man at Ned's elbow spoke.
The lad was astonished to see one of the men who had breakfasted with them, and who appeared to be the Kaiser's chief aide.
CHAPTER XXIII. A Mysterious Door.
"How do you do!" greeted Ned, pleased to recognize their friend. He stepped forward and extended his hand, which the other grasped firmly.
"Your young friend?" queried the other. "Is he hurt badly?"
In a few words, Ned outlined the circumstances following the breakfast. He told of Jimmie's fall from the low-flying monoplane, of his striking a small tree which broke the force of his fall, and of his crashing through the roofed-over trench. The rest of the story was supplied by their captor, who seemed greatly interested in Jimmie's welfare.
"Bring him inside," commanded the officer. "We will provide comforts for him without delay, although this is far from being a hospital."
"I can walk all right," protested Jimmie. "I'm only shaken up and tired out! Ned's system of 'setting up' exercises has kept us as hard as nails, and aside from being shaken to pieces, I'm all right!"
Smiling at the exhibition of grit, the officer helped Jimmie to his feet and then guided him through a nearby door. The little party was conducted to what had evidently been a luxurious bed chamber in the rambling building, which was half chateau, half castle.
Here stood a giant four poster bed with a great canopy, and into this Jimmie was tumbled after his shoes had been pulled off by his chums.
"Now, you may lie there and sleep if you like," announced the officer. "I will have some food brought to you directly." Then, turning to Ned, he continued: "It is necessary, under the circumstances, to detain your party for a time. We are informed that you are acting as spies in the interest of our enemy, and until we can investigate that report, we shall be required to maintain a surveillance. You will make it easy?"
"Certainly, we will, sir!" replied Ned, grateful for the assistance to his chum. "We are only anxious to make sure that the man about whom we spoke this morning is not allowed to carry out his intention."
A meaning smile greeted this remark. The officer went on:
"Do not trouble your mind in that direction. I think I am safe in saying that Germany does not desire war with your country, and certainly does not care to make war upon young men of your standing."
"Thank you again!" Ned exclaimed. "You are very kind!"
"I will leave you now for a time," stated the officer. "Should you need anything, you may communicate your wishes to the man just outside the door. I have much work to do, and the time passes rapidly. It is already well past noon. I will see you again presently."
As soon as the officer had departed Ned glanced out into the passageway. A soldier in uniform stood not far away. At Ned's appearance he first brought his rifle into position, then upon seeing the lad he stepped forward inquiringly. Ned gave the Boy Scout salute, shook his head and withdrew again into the apartment. Jimmie had dropped asleep.
"Gritty little rascal," commented Jack, indicating with a nod the sleeping figure. "He got an awful bump, but won't admit it."
"Jimmie's chock full of grit and good sense and loyalty and lots of other fine qualities!" declared Ned, tenderly watching the sleeping lad.
"Don't know what we'd do without him!" Harry almost choked. "I wish there were a lot more just like him, red hair and all," he ended with a laugh that spoke eloquently of his affection for The Wolf.
Truth to tell, the boys had been far more alarmed at Jimmie's recent danger than any of them were willing to admit.
"Here comes the dinner!" announced Francois in a tone of relief.
"Hurrah for the pieman!" cried Jack, advancing to meet a man bearing a huge tray piled high with dishes. "I'm hungry enough to eat a bear!"
"What's that about a bear?" asked Jimmie, attempting to rise.
"Go to sleep, Jimmie!" ordered Harry. "Nothing is going on that you'd be interested in at all. We're only going to have dinner!"
"All right, I'll go to sleep—after dinner!" declared the lad.
No time was lost by the five hungry boys in attacking the food, which, though simple, was plentiful and well cooked. As they ate they discussed the situation in general and their own position particularly.
"This looks like it had been a pretty fine place before——" said Jimmie, glancing about the apartment. "But they've knocked it about some!"
"Francois," asked Ned, "do you know the country hereabouts well enough to tell us what place this is? It looks like an old establishment."
"No, I do not know the place," replied Francois. "It is in Flanders and, therefore, I have not learned of it. I have not seen all in France yet," the boy ended, with a smile. "To me this is just a castle."
"It belongs to the Duke de Swell Elegant Upper Crust!" answered Jimmie, promptly. His disrespect for titles at least had suffered no harm from his tumble out of the sky earlier in the day. "He's a half brother," he continued, "to the Baron von Cheap Skate. They ran the livery stable here!"
Laughingly the boys greeted this sally. Francois asked:
"And where are the Duke and Baron, now that the Germans are here?"
"They are down in the feather foundry shooing geese," declared Jimmie, gravely. "They are working for Walker and Doolittle."
"Hark! I hear singing," said Francois. "I do not know the song."
"That's not strange," returned Jimmie. "That's 'Die Wacht Am Rhine,' and you're not supposed to recognize that, you know!"
"How inspiring and yet how awful it is!" whispered Francois. "It makes me feel as if I wanted to go out and do something real big."
"Let's go out and listen to it," suggested Harry. "They have some good voices in that bunch. I like that singing."
Opening the door the boys stepped quietly out into the corridor. From their right came the sounds of music and laughter. Stepping closer the boys peered through hanging portieres and saw a great room full of soldiers. Some were seated at small tables playing cards, others lay stretched on the floor at full length in a row, while others walked about watching the card playing. All seemed at ease after hard work, for here and there one had removed the heavy hobnailed boots, while helmets and service caps were deposited on a convenient rack. A stack of rifles in one corner spoke grimly of the business which had been temporarily laid aside while the soldiers rested. At a piano an officer was seated.
While he played with no small degree of skill a group gathered about him and sang with excellent voices. As the "Wacht Am Rhine" was finished, a grand tenor voice started an encore, "Silent Night." Bursts of applause greeted his song and urged him to continue. In the German tongue, "Sing Me to Sleep" sounded strangely sweet to the listening boys.
As the song ended, the pianist struck a few chords of a livelier tune, and Jimmie unconsciously whistled "Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?" So interested were his companions that they lifted their voices and sang, unmindful of the roomful of soldiers. Quickly the man at the piano accompanied them. One by one the soldiers joined in until the entire roomful were roaring out the words.
Laughingly the boys were seized and thrust through the curtains. Greeted by cheers and exclamations from the group, they became embarrassed and begged to be excused, but the soldiers, having found some new object of interest, would not let them go. They insisted on having more songs.
"We can't sing, really we can't!" protested Ned.
"Ah, you speak English?" asked the pianist. "Sing us an English song, if you please. We would like to hear one."
"We are from the United States," Ned said unconsciously squaring his shoulders. "We do not know any real English songs at all."
"So?" inquiringly the officer commented, drawing out the word very long. "Then perhaps you will sing us one of the songs of that country. I have traveled in your country and have heard many songs there. Try this!"
He struck a few chords of "Dixie" and at once the boys began. As the four fresh young voices filled the room with the tune so familiar to all Americans, their audience listened appreciatively, bursting into applause at its conclusion. Others followed, but the boys were fairly delighted when the player started "The Star Spangled Banner."
Many of the soldiers were familiar with the tune and while they did not know the words, they listened eagerly as the boys sang.
"Thank you," the pianist said as the boys concluded. "We have enjoyed your effort very much. Will you not remain here?"
"I believe we would be more model prisoners if we stayed in our room, thank you," answered Ned. "We are under arrest, you know!"
Laughingly the officer agreed to excuse them under the circumstances and again complimenting them on their vocal efforts and on their model conduct as prisoners, he permitted them to return to their room.
Jimmie again sought the comfort of the great bed, declaring that he had not slept in a real bed in ages and this was so good he was afraid it would not last. The other boys began an inspection of the place.
"Hello!" cried Harry presently. "Here's a piece of wire. Now I wonder what they were doing with such a thing in a place like this!"
"Let me have it, please," requested Jack. "I've found a hole in the wall and I want to poke something into it. It looks inviting!"
Harry brought the piece of wire to Jack and watched him as he investigated the interior of a curious hole.
"Well, what do you think of this?" he shouted in a moment. "Here's the mate to your key-hole, Jack. It looks just like that one!"
"Maybe it is a key-hole," Jack responded. "Try to pick it!"
The two holes were a short three feet apart and the wire was more than five feet long. Harry, therefore seized the free end and without disturbing Jack began prodding about in the hole he had discovered. Directly a low rumbling was heard coming as it seemed from the wall. The boys looked up startled. As Jack withdrew the end of the wire he noticed a flash of fire from the interior of the key-hole at which he had worked.
"Hello, boys!" he cried. "I struck fire here just now!"
"What are you two boys trying to do?" inquired Ned approaching.
"Just getting some Fourth of July here, that's all," replied Jack.
"Try it again," Ned suggested. "Let me see, too."
"You do it just like this," directed Jack. "Harry had the end of the wire in that hole over there and I had the other end in this hole. Just as I pulled the wire out of this hole when we heard a noise, I saw fire flash and heard a little snapping or crackling sound!"