The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line; Or, With the Allies in France

Rod held his breath and listened. Though his nerves were quivering with excitement he could hold himself in check wonderfully well. Josh was breathing heavily, while Hanky Panky lay quite still; somehow Rod half suspected that the other might also have been aroused, and was, like himself, listening with bated breath to find out what had caused that slight noise close by.

A thrill passed through Rod when something touched him. Then he suddenly realised that it was his bed-fellow, Hanky Panky, wishing to be reassured; and accordingly Rod gave him a slight nudge with his elbow.

Something moved again, and, on straining his vision, for the room was fairly dark, Rod managed to discover what seemed to be the bent-over figure of a man. He guessed instinctively that it was no common thief who had managed to enter their chamber in this Calais inn at the dead of night, meaning to steal money, or any other valuable he could get his hands on.

Jules must have managed to follow after them, and was also in the French city by the sea, which later on the Kaiser became so wild to possess in order to harass the coast of England twenty miles away that he ordered mad charges on the part of his men, and thousands on thousands were slaughtered without accomplishing any favorable result.

Rod did not mean to lie quietly there and allow this sneak-thief time to rummage around. Of course the precious paper wanted by Jules was securely hidden; but for all that it went against his grain to allow such liberties.

Managing to get his mouth close to the ear of Hanky Panky he whispered:

“Shout when I do, and jump out of bed!”

The other gave a sign to the effect that he heard and understood; although this consisted only of a nudge with his knee it was sufficient to tell Rod the game was ready for touching off.

When both of them started to yell the effect was weird, and must have given poor, unsuspicious Josh the scare of his life; for he rolled out of bed and commenced to thresh wildly about him, perhaps under the impression that dreams were realities and his clothes actually on fire.

Rod had eyes only for the dusky figure of the unwelcome intruder. The man made a headlong dive for the open window through which he evidently must have entered the room of the inn. It was all of ten feet, perhaps twelve, to the ground, and he went plunging through space like a huge frog.

They heard him strike heavily, though he managed to gain his feet, and go limping away, groaning as he vanished in the darkness.

Of course there was more or less excitement about the inn. People could be heard calling out as they thrust their heads from the windows. Some men who had been lying asleep in the wagon-yard near by came hurrying up, asking if it was a fire.

Rod explained to the landlord, who appeared, candle in hand; and as no damage had been done the excitement soon quieted down. The boys, however, decided to set a trap by means of a cord, that would warn them if any one again attempted to enter their room by that exposed window.

Apparently the failure of his plan discouraged the schemer, for they were not annoyed any further during the remainder of the night. With the coming of morning they ate an early breakfast, settled their reckoning with the French landlord, who insisted on apologizing profusely for their being so rudely disturbed, just as if he was to blame, and then once more mounted on their reliable motorcycles the trio of boys started forth.

It was a fine morning in early September. All Nature seemed smiling, and it required quite a stretch of the imagination to realize that not so very far away from this fair spot two million determined soldiers were facing one another, bent on slaughter unparalleled. The Battle of the Marne was even then opening, with the fate of fair Paris trembling in the balance.

One thing they soon noticed, which was that the road they were following now seemed to keep even with a railway line, over which trains were passing at a dizzy speed, all heading in the same direction, toward Paris.

Every time one of these was sighted the boys could see that the passengers were wholly soldiers. Sometimes they wore the blue coats of the French, with the beloved red trousers, which have been so dear to the hearts of the fighting men of the republic from away back to the time of Napoleon; then again the dull khaki of the British regulars predominated. They occupied first-class carriages, freight vans, cattle cars–anything sufficed so long as it allowed them to get closer to where a chance for glory awaited them.

All these things kept the boys in a constant condition of expectancy. As the morning wore away and they continued to make good headway Josh even found himself indulging in the hope that they would reach the scene of activity before many hours had elapsed.

Once, when they had halted at a wayside farmhouse to see if anything in the shape of a lunch could be secured for love or money, he even called the attention of his two mates to a faint rumbling far away in the distance.

“As sure as you live, fellows,” Josh went on to say eagerly, “that must be made by some of those monster guns the Germans are rolling along with them, meaning to batter down the forts defending Paris, just like they did the steel-domed ones up at Liege and Namur in Belgium, as we know happened.”

Rod was not quite so positive about it. They had covered many miles, because of good roads, and the few obstacles encountered, but he hardly believed they could be so close to Paris as that.

“I can see something low down ahead of us that may be clouds,” Hanky Panky now asserted.

“More’n likely that’s the smoke of the battle that’s raging over yonder,” declared the positive Josh, who always had to be wrestled with before he could be convinced that he was wrong.

“No matter which is the correct solution of the puzzle,” laughed Rod, not wishing to take sides against either of his chums, “we’re meaning to go ahead after we see if we can get some grub at this little farmhouse.”

Fortune played them a kind stroke, for the farmer’s wife, a voluble little French woman, who had a husband and three sons in the army, on learning that they were actually American boys, insisted on their settling down while she cooked them a fine dinner.

It turned out that Madame had herself spent several years in America, and even then had relatives living in the French Quarter in New York City. She asked them a multitude of questions, and was especially anxious to learn if the great republic across the sea would align itself with the Entente Allies, who were now, she insisted, engaged in fighting the battles of the whole world for freedom from military domination.

Taken altogether, the boys quite enjoyed that hour at noon. They learned considerable about things that interested them, especially the lay of the land ahead, and where they might expect to come upon trouble in meeting some of the troops engaged in the fighting.

Josh was especially tickled when she assured them that the dull throbbing sound they heard almost constantly was indeed the fretful murmur of big guns. Being a French woman, and very sanguine with regard to the valor of her countrymen, the farmer’s wife could already in imagination see the beaten Germans fleeing in mad haste before the invincible soldiers of the republic.

In this humor then they once more started forth, feeling considerably refreshed after that fine meal. Indeed, Rod had been unable to make the little patriotic woman accept the three francs he offered her; and watching his chance he had laid the money on the table where she must later on find it.

An hour later and the throbbing had grown much more perceptible, showing that they must be rapidly drawing closer to where the vast armies were marching and countermarching, with the field batteries in almost constant action.

They understood that several German armies were approaching Paris at the same time, one coming from the north, another veering more to the east, but the most dangerous of all, that commanded by the clever Von Kluck, swinging around so as to come down on the devoted French capital from the northwest.

More than forty years had passed since another hostile army had laid siege to Paris and taken the gay city after many months of desperate fighting. Rod wondered whether history was going to be repeated now. He felt sure that if once those Germans managed to get their terrible forty-two centimetre guns busy, no fort was capable of standing up under their frightful pounding.

So the afternoon began to wear away, and all this while the motors hummed cheerily, as they worked unceasingly, carrying the three bold riders closer and closer to where the greatest battle of the age was being fought to a finish.

There was a sudden whoop from the rear, where Hanky Panky held his place. When the others managed to glance around, almost afraid that they would find him in the ditch alongside the road, with his machine a wreck, they discovered Hanky pointing wildly overhead, while at the same time he shouted:

“Looks like old times, fellows, to see that aeroplane spinning along up there half a mile high; and say, it’s sure a German Taube in the bargain. How about that same, Rob; you ought to know what they look like?”

“You’re right about it, Hanky Panky!” announced Rod, after he had taken a good look aloft, and recognized some of the familiar features distinguishing the Taube aeroplanes used almost exclusively at that early stage of the war by the German military forces.

“It’s snooping around getting information so’s to help Von Kluck strike the Allies where they don’t expect him, most likely!” the boy in the rear called out.

“Mebbe not,” said Josh stoutly; “for all we know old Von may have put his fingers in the trap laid by wily General Joffre, and what he wants to do now is to find a way to draw out again.”

Whether Josh really believed all he said or not was an open question, but at any rate it was in his heart to stand up staunchly for the French and English, whatever came to pass. He had seen that vast German horde overrun poor Belgium, and he was praying they might meet an obstacle when they finally ran up against the whole Allied army, standing before Paris, and determined to do or die there.

They cast many a glance upward as they continued to move along. The aeroplane did not seem to be disturbed, as far as they could make out. If there were French birdmen in the vicinity they had other work cut out for them besides chasing a hostile flier. Possibly they were over the fighting armies, finding out valuable statistics for the use of the French commanders, and which might affect the ultimate outcome of the battle.

All doubt concerning their being in the vicinity of the field of gigantic operations was by this time removed. The roar of guns had kept on growing more and more intense. Besides, it was easy for them to make sure that what Hanky Panky had suggested as a threatening summer storm cloud was in reality smoke from artillery and burning cottages along the line of Von Kluck’s advance.

Once they had to stop and get on one side of the road in order to permit the passage of a convoy of motor lorries loaded with wounded men. The boys noticed that some of these wore the khaki of British soldiers, which seemed to prove that a portion of General French’s little army from across the Channel must be valiantly holding a part of the thin line against the furious rushes of the disciplined German troops.

The three boys took off their hats and waved them heartily as the procession of trucks passed by. Some of the wounded answered them lustily, showing that their spirit had not been in the least quenched by their hard luck in getting in the way of hostile missiles.

Josh was burning with a feverish desire to be moving again.

“Why, judging from that,” he told the others excitedly, as the last of the sad procession passed them by, heading possibly for some French town where a hospital had beds ready against their coming, “we must be almost in the riot by now. Listen to how the guns keep up that whoop, will you? I’ll bet you they’re not more’n five miles away from here! Rod, can’t we push right along?”

Rod, however, realized that they must now begin to exercise a great deal of caution. No matter which side they happened to come upon, there was a fair chance of the three boys being held up, and not permitted to go any further.

“Keep on the lookout for some hill or other elevation, where we can get a good view of the neighborhood!” he told them, remembering former occasions when they had adopted a similar method for seeing operations.

It was late in the day by now. They had come at a tremendous pace over scores and scores of miles, since that start at six o’clock in the morning. Along about two in the afternoon Josh had declared that his cyclometer was marking the hundred-and-fifty mark since beginning the day’s run, which was a pretty good spin, all things considered.

Thanks to the excellent French highways, and the fact that they had met with no accident to detain them, this record could be hung up as one of which any fellow might be proud.

It would be utterly impossible to describe all they saw while on that wonderful day’s run. Each of the boys had secured a little French tri-color, and this flag they took pride in attaching to their machines. It aroused the greatest enthusiasm all along the road. In every town they passed through they were taken for some new type of native soldiers mounted on motorcycles. That they did not carry any guns may have occasioned more or less surprise; but then doubtless they had other methods for destroying the rash invaders when the time came; small but powerful bombs would take up little space in a knapsack, every one knew.

In the country sections where the neat French market gardens predominated they had found the women working amidst the crops, and few men in evidence. Of course those of a military age were already called to the colors, and at that moment might be laying their lives down cheerfully in defence of their beloved land; for their old hatred of everything German had once more leaped to the surface as soon as war was declared.

Rod was trying to figure out what his course should be under the circumstances. He knew how difficult it must prove for them to reach a place where they could observe any of the desperate fighting. The best they might expect would be to see some detached action, and possibly learn where the French regiment might be found to which Andre belonged.

As they proceeded slowly along the road, after watching the procession of motor lorries loaded with wounded wind past, all of them were using their eyes to the best advantage.

The country was hilly to the north of Paris, Rod knew, with many roads crossing in every direction. At any time they might expect to discover some movement of troops belonging to one of the armies engaged.

This came to pass shortly afterwards, and when they found that it was a British regiment that was crossing a field on the double-quick, with guns ready for business, the boys sent up a real American cheer.

“There, they’ve come to a halt, somehow or other!” said Josh, “and listen to the fellows send back an answering cheer, will you? Guess they must take us for some of their boys from over the Channel. Here comes an officer on horseback to interview us, Rod.”

Great was the surprise of the British colonel to find that they were not English boys at all, but cousins from the great republic across the ocean. He asked many questions while his men rested before continuing their movement, which was undoubtedly meant to carry out some purpose or other.

One startling piece of information he gave the three motorcycle boys.

“The Germans have shot their bolt, and are retreating!” was what he declared in his hearty British way. “Von Kluck meant to take Paris by surprise from the northwest, but he made a terrible mistake and left his flank uncovered. It was threatened by our British troops, as well as by a new army that came out of Paris, sent by General Gallieni, the commander of the city. There was nothing to be done but swing in a half circle past Paris without coming within cannon shot of the forts. We are now about to strike with all our force, and beat him back on the Marne. Paris is saved for the time being!”

This was the amazing news that thrilled the three boys through and through. In their minds it meant that the German tide had already reached its flood stage; and that from the hour Von Kluck changed his plans with regard to attacking the forts defending Paris the campaign of invasion was fated to meet with its Waterloo.

Josh actually shouted aloud to show his glee, nor did the grim British officer consider this any discourtesy. He himself was feeling in much the same humor, for victory was already in the air for the Allies, and he knew what that would mean for the future of the whole of Europe.

After a very pleasant and interesting chat the three boys again mounted their machines, and set out. They had been warned by the accommodating officer that they might run into a nest of the enemy at almost any time now, for detachments of the Germans were raiding the country, trying to inspire a reign of terror among the inhabitants.

“If they can catch us,” the confident Josh had remarked in his customary boastful fashion, “they’ll be welcome to our mounts. All the same we don’t mean to let ourselves be taken off our guard. To be made prisoners just now would upset all our lovely plans, you see, Colonel. But it’s awful kind of you to give us the tip, and make sure we appreciate it.”

Shortly afterwards Rod announced that there was something of a hill ahead, and once they had managed to reach the crown they might find a chance to take an observation that would prove profitable to them.

“Drive ahead, then,” chirped Josh, always willing to do anything that came along, especially when it promised fresh excitement; possibly he was hoping that from the top of the low elevation they would be able to see many stirring dramas connected with the great battle that was now opening, and which must seal the fate of the French capital, one way or the other.

“I’m going to slow up first,” observed the cautious leader; “because we don’t know what we may run on at the top of that hill. It’d be rough on us to suddenly come face to face with a whole battalion of Germans, advancing up the other side, and reaching the crown just at the same time we did.”

“Rod, you’re right there!” Josh was heard to call out almost instantly; “look up where we’re heading, and you’ll see the Germans have got there even before we did!”

All of them came to a sudden halt, and dropped off their motorcycles in a desperate hurry.

The summit of the low hill was not more than a quarter of a mile away from the spot where Rod and his two chums had dismounted, to stare aghast at what was transpiring before their eyes.

The hill was almost devoid of trees near its top, and a minute before they had taken note of the fact that the bushes stood out against the sky-line with nothing to interfere with the vision of an observer perched aloft. But now it seemed as though the whole hilltop were alive with moving figures. The declining sun glinted from hundreds of polished guns and bayonets. And clearly could the boys see that these men were garbed in the dun-colored uniforms distinguishing the Kaiser’s troops.

“That settles our hash so far as getting a peek at the fighting goes,” muttered Josh discontentedly, for he always gave a cherished object up very lothfully.

“Oh! I wouldn’t say that!” declared Hanky Panky; “there are other ways of doing it, you can wager. That hill yonder isn’t the only pebble on the beach. What’ll we do now, Rod?”

“Get out of this, and in a hurry, too,” snapped the other instantly.

“We certainly can’t keep on going forward, for a fact,” admitted Josh, still filled with gloom and disappointment; “those chaps’d gobble us up like fun, and it’d be good-bye to our bully wheels.”

“Course they’d take us for Britishers, from our khaki uniforms,” admitted Hanky Panky; “and say, if they once got their hands on us they’d snatch all our papers away in a hurry. I’m counting on keeping that one our friend Albert gave us, to show the boys over in old Garland when we get back home; because they’ll never believe half we expect to tell ’em if we don’t have some evidence to prove it.”

“Huh! That isn’t the worst by a long shot,” continued Josh. “Don’t you see our having those papers on our precious persons would make it look like we might be spies, working in the interest of Belgium and France? You just better believe we don’t want to be nabbed by the Kaiser’s men, not if we know what’s good for us, and I reckon we do.”

“The worst is yet to come!” exclaimed Rod just then; “look off there to the left and tell me what you see moving across those fields toward the road back of us.”

Hardly had he said this than loud outcries arose from his two companions.

“Why, Rod, they’re whole regiments of the Germans, and they’re deploying so as to cut off our retreat, you see!” cried Hanky Panky, in a near panic.

“I don’t expect they’ve even noticed us as yet,” Rod went on to say; “but all the same if ever they do reach the road we’ll be caught like rats in a trap.”

“Looks like we might be between two fires,” said Josh, frowning savagely; “what can we do about it, Rod?”

It was second nature for the other fellows to depend on their leader whenever a knotty problem arose that needed solving. And seldom did Rod disappoint their expectations. He came up smiling on the present occasion.

“Get turned around in a hurry!” he called out; “we’ve one chance in three to slip past before they get near the road. Are you both game to try for it?”

“Sure!” bellowed Josh; “try anything once, is my motto!”

“I’ll go where you lead, Rod,” was the simple but eloquent tribute which Hanky Panky paid the other; and Rod must have felt deeply gratified to know he was able to inspire the hearts of his chums with so much confidence.

“Then let’s get busy!” was all he told them.

The rattle of the machines’ exhausts instantly announced the start. Rod led the way, with the others close behind him. He did not dread the soldiers who were upon the hilltop, even though every movement made by the fleeing motorcycle boys must be plainly seen by their observing eyes; for the distance was too great for them to expect to damage the mounts of the escaping enemy by any gunfire.

It was the forces coming up on the double-quick to reach the road over which the three boys had so lately passed that aroused Rod’s greatest fears. He knew that with the speed of which the machines were capable they could manage to sweep past before the troops reached the road; but should the Germans open fire on them the result might be disastrous indeed.

Hoping for the best, and ready to accept the desperate chances, they dashed along, every fellow bending low in his saddle from some instinct of self-preservation. It was a serious time for them, and with set teeth they hastened into the danger zone. Now they approached the place where there would be the most peril from a volley fired by the oncoming soldiers, who of course ere now had seen them, and perhaps judged that they must be British scouts caught in a trap.

Rod had changed his mind. He suddenly remembered that there was a branch road leading off from the one they had come along. Of course it was a blind move, because none of them could even give a guess where it went to; but if they took it they might manage to slip out of the dilemma into which the fortunes of war had thrown them.

“Be ready to follow me when I turn into a side road!” he called to the others.

Undoubtedly they heard him, though they gave no answering shout. It would have availed little, however, because just at that moment there was a savage burst of firing back in the direction of the hill, and many spent bullets dropped all around them, some even kicking up little clouds of dust as they fell on the road.

Rod turned in the saddle to see if there was any sign of his chums having been struck. So far all seemed well, for they were coming right along after him, and without any indication of having received even the slightest damage.

The forks of the road were now close at hand. Rod was never more delighted in his life than to realize this, for once they turned into this lesser thoroughfare he believed they would be protected by friendly trees from the gaze of those on the hilltop.

A dreadful crash gave him another chilly feeling. He understood that it must be the explosion of a shrapnel shell, not more than fifty feet behind them. The gunner may have been on the hill with the gathering troops; but in calculating the distance he had failed to take into consideration the speed which the escaping boys were making.

Perhaps if given an opportunity to try a second shot he might be able to correct this error of judgment, and the next shell would burst directly over their heads.

Rod almost held his breath. He felt as though so much depended on the next twenty seconds of time, perhaps even the lives of his two brave comrades, as well as his own.

Then he arrived at the forks, and, making a detour, left the main road to plunge into the smaller thoroughfare. Again Rod looked back to assure himself that both of the other boys were as successful in turning as he had been.

Yes, there was Josh, safe and sound, and Hanky Panky, wabbling a bit to be sure, but keeping a firm grip on his speeding machine had now managed to accomplish the deal.

Rod saw something suddenly explode on the road exactly where the forks came. He knew full well it must be that second shrapnel shell, and only for their sudden change of base, which the gunner had not calculated on, it must have burst so near Hanky Panky that he might have suffered seriously.

The outlook was better, though it seemed as yet too early to count on security. Rod kept a keen watch on what lay before him. He would not have been greatly surprised to discover more of the invading hosts appear in view at any second; for they were undoubtedly in the midst of a turning movement that had to do with the great battle opening up. When an army of between two and three hundred thousand men, like that of Von Kluck, the German commander, attempts a gigantic movement, it covers many miles of territory, Rod understood.

After proceeding in this manner for several miles his hopes grew stronger, and he actually felt as though there was a good chance for them to elude the enemy. Josh was growling to himself, keenly disappointed because they seemed to be running away from where momentous things were taking place.

The night was not far distant, and Rod had to bear this fact in mind. Where were they to secure anything to eat in the midst of all this turmoil and confusion? So far as a bed went they could do without, nor would it be the first time such a thing had happened in their eventful career.

“Looks as if we might have outrun the Boches, Rod,” called Josh, using a term he had heard some of the Frenchmen apply toward the Germans, though no one seemed able to explain where it had originated, or just what it meant, save that it was intended as a term of derision, the same as “Yanks” and “Johnny Rebs” passed current during the Civil War between the States.

“Yes, that’s all very well,” replied Rod, “but it doesn’t cut any figure when we try to run across a house where we’re going to get our suppers, and find a place to sleep.”

“Oh! we’re sure to come to some sort of French farmer’s place sooner or later!” declared the confident Josh; “and if they’re anything like the little woman who took care of us this noon it’ll be a picnic.”

Ten minutes later, as they were negotiating a bad section of the road, Rod made an announcement that sent a wave of thanksgiving through the hearts of his chums.

“Farmhouse ahead half a mile or so,” was the burden of his call; “I glimpsed it against that bright place in the sky. As the sun’s already gone down we’ll have to take our chances, and apply for lodging there.”

“I’m with you, Rod!” called out Josh immediately, while Hanky Panky added:

“I only hope none of the enemy slip up in the night and gather us in, that’s all.”

Their arrival at the dooryard of the roadside farm was signalized by a frantic clatter. Dogs barked, chickens squawked on their way to their roosts, ducks quacked, and even a calf tethered to a stake in the rear of the house set up a pitiful bleating, as if under the conviction that the dreaded butcher’s cart had arrived, and the last hope of life now hung by a slender thread.

“One thing I’m glad to see,” announced Josh, as they came to a halt amidst all this bustle and clamor.

“What’s that?” asked Hanky Panky, in duty bound.

“The terrible Germans have not come this way so far, that’s sure,” remarked the observing one.

“I’d like you to tell us just how you know that?” demanded the other.

“Shucks! open your eyes, and look around you, my friend. Would it stand to reason that a bunch of hungry soldiers, raiding through an enemy’s country, could pass by, and allow all this fat of the land to exist? Ducks, and chickens, and pigs, and calves would have gone to make up a German feast this night. And like as not the dogs would have been shot in cold blood because being French they had dared to bark at the uniforms of the Kaiser’s men.”

“Guess you’re right there, Josh,” admitted Hanky Panky, easily convinced when the evidence was there before his very eyes.

“Here are the good people of the house come to see what’s broken loose to give their live stock such a scare,” observed Rod just then.

A woman with a tottering, silver-haired old man just behind her, appeared around the corner of the low building. Possibly they had been alarmed by hearing the splutter of the coming motorcycle brigade’s machines, and hesitated about showing themselves. But when Rod advanced toward them, making a courteous salute, and they saw what a frank boyish face he had, somehow they lost all fear.

Arrangements were soon made that assured the lads some sort of entertainment. That they were not the terrible Germans was enough for the good woman of the farm house. In her mind the whole world was divided into two classes just then: enemies and friends; and all who did not have German blood in their veins she looked upon as naturally favoring the Allies.

The old man became quite solicitous concerning the safety of the splendid motorcycles. He even led the boys to where they might store them for the night. This receptacle turned out to be a sort of dry cave dug into the side of a mound. It was evidently a frost-proof receptacle for the potatoes and other vegetables raised for winter use, and had a good stout door, secured with a hasp.

“There doesn’t seem to be any sign of a lock here, boys,” announced Josh, after they had carefully deposited their machines inside and closed the door.

“Well,” replied Rod, “these people around here are so honest themselves that they never dream of anybody ever stealing a single thing. Chances are you’ll not find a lock or even a chain or a bar in all the house.”

“Sounds all very nice,” grumbled the suspicious Josh, “but I’d sleep better, I’m thinking, if I knew the machines were under lock and key.”

“We could manage to make you a shake-down here in the potato bin if so be you felt disposed that way,” suggested Hanky Panky blandly; but somehow the idea did not appear to appeal strongly to the other, for he snickered.

“If the rest can stand it I oughtn’t to worry,” he grunted, and thus dismissed the subject apparently from his mind.

Later on they sat down to a pretty fine supper, which the good woman prepared for them. The hungry boys were ready to declare that while they had sampled all sorts of cookery since landing on European soil, from English and German to Flemish, they really believed that the French excelled all others when it came to getting up tasteful dishes out of next to nothing.

“No wonder they save so much money, and could pay off that billion dollars the Germans exacted after the war of Seventy-one,” said Josh confidentially.

“They always say that a French family can live comfortably on what an American family would waste,” added Hanky Panky; “and for one I believe it.”

Rod, of course, started in to do the talking, but it was soon discovered that the woman could speak pretty fair English. Great was the surprise of Josh and Hanky Panky when she told them she had lived in the French Quarter of New York as long as three years, some time back, before she was married.

She proudly confessed that her two boys, as well as her husband, were in the ranks of the republic’s patriotic army; and that even though she might never again see them, it would be a sacrifice for the land she loved with all her heart and soul; so that if the hated Germans were only beaten, and France saved to posterity, she could reconcile herself even to the loss of all she possessed in the wide world.

They sat up chatting until a reasonably late hour. Then, as the boys were more or less tired after an exhausting day’s ride they asked to be shown the apartment where they were to pass the night.

It proved to be a room in a wing that had been recently added to the old farmhouse, with evidences of not yet being suitably furnished. Still, all they wanted was a place to throw themselves down and rest. The night was warm, it being still summer, and little if any covers would be needed.

Here then they prepared to sleep. Each of them removed their outer garments, as they had already done with regard to their leggings and shoes.

Josh poked his head out of a convenient open window to take an observation. He grunted as if pleased to know that from that point it was possible to see the mound of earth in which the potato cellar had been located.

A wide double bed occupied one corner of the room. The good woman of the house had also fetched in a cot, which would serve admirably for the odd traveler.

“It looks good to me,” remarked Hanky Panky, after testing the big bed, and finding that it felt reasonably soft. “I reckon, Rod, we’ll let Josh take the cot, because you know he’s such a kicker when he dreams that nobody likes to stand for it.”

“Only too glad of the chance to sleep alone,” chuckled Josh, apparently in no wise feeling hurt by the insinuation.

So it was easily arranged, and in less than ten minutes afterward Rod, being the last one up, blew out the candle that had been given to them, and sought his place in the big bed.

If Josh chose to lie awake for any length of time turning over matters in his active mind at least he did not make any sound calculated to disturb his companions.

Time passed on.

Rob was in the midst of a delightful dream of the far-away home across the sea when he felt some one gently shake him. As he instantly opened his eyes it all came back to him again in a flash, and he knew where he was; also that it must be Josh who was again trying to draw his attention.

“Hello! what’s up, Josh?” asked Rod quietly and without a trace of excitement, whereas a good many boys, upon being so suddenly aroused from a sound sleep would have sat up, trembling with alarm, and demanding to know in quivering tones what had happened.

“Something’s going on outside here that we ought to look into,” whispered Josh.

By this time Hanky Panky had been awakened, and heard the last words.

“Gee whiz! then the Germans have come after all!” he was heard to mutter, as he started to feel around for his shoes.

They hurried to the windows and looked out. Just how Josh had happened to awaken he did not take the trouble to inform the others; but they could see that something out of the common was occurring outside. A couple of lights that might be lanterns seemed to be moving this way and that, as though those who held the same were looking around the outhouses belonging to the farm.

“Get dressed, and in a hurry, too,” said Rob, after he had watched these moving lights for a minute or so.

“Then you think they must be the Germans come after us, do you, Rob?” asked Hanky Panky tremulously, as he started to dress as fast as he could in the semidarkness.

“I don’t know, but I mean to find out,” he was told in low but incisive tones.

They made all the haste possible. Rob was ready some little time ahead of his comrades. This might be because he mastered his feelings better than either of the others, or else on account of having his possessions so carefully arranged before climbing into bed that he knew exactly where to lay a hand on each and every article in the dark.

Finally Josh, and then Hanky Panky announced that he was all ready to issue forth. Josh doubtless was figuring in his mind just how they might get the precious motorcycles out of the potato cellar unobserved, and ride wildly away before the searching Germans suspected their presence. Hanky Panky on his part would have been almost willing to abandon the wheels rather than risk chances of falling into the hands of the invaders; for he had an idea they might be treated as spies, and dealt with in a summary fashion. The thought of being stood up against a barn and riddled with cruel bullets was uppermost in the boy’s mind.

There was a door leading from the new wing of the farmhouse to the outer air. Rod softly opened this now, and led the way forth, the others trailing after him, confident that Rod would know what line of action was best under the exciting conditions by which they were confronted.

The first natural thing for them to do was to peer carefully around, in expectation of again locating the wandering lights. Then Josh uttered a low gasp, as his fingers plucked at Rod’s sleeve.

“Looky there, will you, Rod?” he whispered, intensely excited; “they’ve run across the potato bin, and are going to take a peep inside!”

“Oh! my stars! it’s all up with our poor wheels then!” Hanky Panky was heard to tell the others, though no one seemed to pay the slightest attention to him.

There was no doubt about the situation being grave. The lights had by this time vanished within the vegetable cellar that had been built underground for frost protection in the cold winters.

“Come; let’s creep forward and see what’s happening,” suggested Rod boldly, as though after all he began to have slight hopes that it might not be quite as bad as they had been thinking.

As they advanced hurriedly they soon began to catch the sound of several voices. Evidently the searchers had been amazed to discover three such splendid motorcycles hidden away in a potato cellar on this farm; this was hardly what they had been looking for when using their lanterns so industriously.

“Too bad, too bad it had to happen!” whimpered the disconsolate Hanky Panky, for he had become so accustomed to spinning along on his reliable machine that the prospect of using “Shank’s mare” as a means of progressing did not appeal to him at all.

“Don’t worry!” Rod told him, “but listen again.”

“What’s the use?” complained the other, “when I can’t understand a single word of what’s said, because it’s French they’re using.”

“French!” echoed Josh, a little louder than prudence might have dictated, though in his new excitement he evidently did not consider that; “why, then after all it isn’t the Germans who’ve come snooping around looking for us.”

“What are they saying, Rod?” asked Hanky Panky.

“Asking each other who can be the owners of these wonderful machines,” replied Rod, at the same time taking a step forward, as though meaning to enter the potato cave.

“Messieurs,” he said, “pardon me, but those machines belong to us; and we are friends of France, we beg you to believe.”

Three men who wore the uniforms of French soldiers, one of whom was evidently a lieutenant, looked hastily up when Rod entered the vegetable cellar, and addressed them in the words we have given. The ordinary soldiers carried guns, and these weapons they half raised, as though wishing to be ready for any emergency.

Of course, it was immediately manifest to the officer that these three wideawake lads were not of the enemy. Like most other people he at first suspected them to be English boys. That would mean they were allies of the French; but nevertheless those splendid wheels were a great temptation; and the Grand Army was in sore need of all such means of rapid locomotion it could commandeer.

“You are English, then?” he asked, politely, returning Rod’s salute.

“No, American, monsieur,” replied the boy, promptly; “we were making a trip down the Rhine on our motorcycles when the war broke out. We had just managed to get across the line into poor Belgium when the Germans came. You can well understand that we have seen much of what happened in that unfortunate country, for we were compelled to go to Antwerp on business.”

“But–this is France,” interrupted the lieutenant, as though puzzled; “and here close to the firing line it is peculiar that we find three American boys mounted on such wonderfully fine motorcycles.”

Rod smiled blandly.

“You wonder how we managed to retain possession of them through it all,” he went on to say; “but the secret lay in a certain magical paper which we carry, and which you shall yourself be permitted to examine.”

With that he once more carefully extracted the document given to them by the brave king of the Belgians, and which had proved to be worth a thousand times its weight in gold.

So the French lieutenant, by the light of the flickering lanterns, also read the brief but forceful sentences penned by King Albert. He was of course greatly impressed, as who would not have been, remembering what a prominent figure the royal writer of the “pass” had already become in the world war?

“It is plain to be seen, young monsieur,” the officer hastened to say as he very carefully folded the precious paper, and with a bow returned it to the owner, “that you and your brave companions have found occasion to lend a helping hand to the grand cause for which all loyal Frenchmen are ready to shed their last drop of blood. But I notice that here the writer speaks of five young Americans, and I see but three.”

“That is easily explained,” replied Rod; “two of our chums were compelled to return hastily to America, having received a cable message. They sailed from Antwerp for London, and by now are far on the way across the Atlantic.”

“But what possessed you three adventurous boys to wish to come once more to the scene of battle and carnage? It is hardly a fit place for lads of your age, I should think?”

“But American boys are full of the spirit of adventure, monsieur,” urged Rod; “and the opportunity would surely never come to us again. Still, it was not merely curiosity that caused us to decide to make this trip. We have come on an errand of mercy; to assist one of your countrywomen who was in great trouble.”

He thereupon hastily sketched the situation in which Jeanne D’Aubrey was placed, with a chance of securing a competence could her husband be communicated with, and allowed to sign the important paper within the specified time limit.

A Frenchman is always filled with a love for anything that borders on the dramatic. He also has the greatest respect for such heroism as these three boys were now exhibiting in undertaking the dangerous mission for the sake of the poor woman at whose humble home they had been temporary guests.

Impulsively he stretched out his hand to Rod, and then to each of the other two boys.

“I am proud to meet you, young messieurs,” he announced; “and while these magnificent mounts would be put to a glorious use in the grand army that needs many such so badly, I could not have the heart to deprive you of your property. On account of what you have already done for the cause, and stand ready to aid any further attempt if the occasion arises, here then we hand you back your beloved motorcycles.”

While Josh and Hanky Panky could not understand much that was spoken, still it was possible for them to read the signs aright. Josh grinned as though greatly tickled over their good luck; and Hanky on his part doubtless felt like offering thanks because the searching party had turned out to be friends instead of foes.

When further conversation took place between Rod and the lieutenant the boy was given to understand that the French had learned of the presence of a German spy in that neighborhood, and several patrols were searching every farmhouse and cottage within a radius of three miles, as well as the patches of woods that lay between.

After considerable more talking the lieutenant explained that as there was more country which he and his detail had been directed to search, he must linger no longer.

When the Frenchmen had departed the boys once more sought their room in the new wing of the farmhouse. They had hardly reached their quarters than a timid knock on the door was heard, and the good woman of the house appeared, to ask with more or less trepidation if they had suffered any loss from the visit of her countrymen, whose uniforms she must have recognized.

Rod assured her that all was well with them, at which she seemed particularly pleased, and vanished from the scene.

“Well, after all it turned out to be a false alarm,” ventured Hanky Panky, giving an exhibition of one of his fancy yawns; and really no boy could excel him when it came to stretching his mouth wide open, so Josh always declared.

“But it might have been serious, all right,” asserted the latter. “Our luck only caused them to be French instead of German. It was what you might call a narrow squeak, Hanky Panky; and only for my waking up when I did we’d have lost our property anyway.”

“We owe you our best thanks for your wakefulness, Josh,” Rod told him.

“Oh! that’s all right,” laughed the other; “thanks to a bad dream I chanced to arouse myself, and caught the flicker of some sort of moving light out there. So of course I just tumbled out and made for the window. When I saw lanterns moving this way and that I began to think we were going to be in the soup; so, knowing you ought to be put in touch with the situation, I wakened you, Rod.”

“By the way,” Hanky Panky continued, “what was the lieutenant telling you all the time he kept on talking, Rod?”

“That’s so,” echoed Josh immediately; “whatever it could have been it seemed to give him a whole lot of pleasure to be able to inform you, for he was smiling like everything, and I could see the pride sticking out of his face.”

“Oh! I was asking him for the latest news from the battle front,” replied Rod, “and what he told me was great stuff, to be sure. It seems that what we heard before was part of the truth.”

“You mean how the German General Von Kluck, swinging down to attack Paris from the northwest, didn’t get within gunshot of the outer forts before he found he had exposed his flank, and it was in danger of being turned–was that it, Rod?” and Josh, who was intensely interested in all military matters, eagerly waited to hear the answer to his leading question.

“Just what happened,” Rod explained. “You see, a new army was hastily gotten together by General Gallieni, the Governor of Paris, consisting for the most part of the regiments meant to defend the city. This, assisted by the British forces, was threatening the exposed flank of Von Kluck. If it struck hard it would throw his whole army into confusion, and start a rout. So instead of attacking the forts as he had intended, Von Kluck made a swift swing, and passed Paris on the north.”

“And what did Joffre do then?” asked Josh.

“The whole French army had been held for just such an opening. It was sent forward with impetuous speed to strike like an avalanche. The lieutenant said that already the blow had started to fall, and that there could be no doubt about the Germans being in retreat, heading north again to positions they must have arranged for along the Aisne River.”

“Hurrah! that makes me sing for joy!” cried Josh, exultantly; “then Paris isn’t going to fall like a ripe plum into the hands of the invincible German army. They counted without their host that time, I guess.”

“Much of the praise for what has happened goes to Joffre because he kept his army intact and refused to risk a general engagement until he believed the time was ripe. When Von Kluck exposed his flank, and that new army came out of Paris to threaten it, Joffre knew the fatal hour was at hand. Then he struck home, and already they are pushing the Germans back along the Marne with frightful slaughter.”

Josh was so pleased with hearing this wonderful news that he went around and insisted on shaking hands with each of his chums.

“Why, I’m nearly as tickled over it as if it was Washington that had been spared from the hand of the despoiler,” he went on to say, hilariously; “those Germans are learning something, it seems to me. They believed their army couldn’t be beaten, but by now their commanders know there are others just as brave as Germans–French, British, Belgians, Russians, yes, and Americans too among the lot. I’ll sure be able to sleep better after hearing that glorious news, Rod.”

Somehow they seemed to feel that their machines would not be disturbed again during the balance of that particular night, so fraught with big events for the people of imperiled France. All of them managed to get to sleep again without much trouble, and really knew nothing more until the sun shining in Rod’s face awoke him.

They were soon dressed, and on entering the other part of the farmhouse found that breakfast was already under way. Rod had to explain a lot of things to the old Frenchman, who it seemed had not been awakened by what had occurred in the night, but had heard something of the event from his daughter.

It was worth while to see how both of them smiled when they heard about the sudden change of plans of the German general, and that even then, when the big guns were once more commencing to speak in the distance, it marked the retreat of the rash invaders who had expected to take Paris as easily as they had battered down the defences of Liege and Namur in Belgium, with their wonderful forty-two centimetre cannon.

The incident of the night, while at the time it had been quite thrilling, was already relegated to the past. Rod and his chums had really been through so much that was exciting during the time they owned those motorcycles, that events of this type were only so many reminiscences, once they had passed.

They had a bountiful breakfast, and then prepared to mount for another ride over the good roads lying north of the French capital.

As usual Hanky Panky began to speculate on what they were fated to see or experience during that day. Situated as they were, with warring armies near by, anything seemed possible. Indeed, Hanky could not venture to even give a guess as to what might come their way before the setting of another sun.

“I only hope we manage to get on the track of the regiment that Andre belongs to,” he ventured to say as they made ready to depart; “and that we find him still in the land of the living. Once we get that paper signed and witnessed, Jeanne D’Aubrey’s future is made secure, no matter what happens to her husband afterwards; though we do hope he’ll live to go back home, whole or crippled, as the fortunes of war decide. All ready here, Rod, so give the word to get started!”

“I’m as thirsty as a fish out of water, Rod!” called out Josh some time after they had started moving along the road; “must have been that ham we had for breakfast which was some salty, if fine. And unless I miss my guess there’s a roadside spring ahead of us there. You can see that foot traveler taking a drink right now.”

Rod had of course already noticed this for himself. Possibly he would have given the stop signal, even had Josh not pleaded with him to do so.

They pulled up close by and dismounted. The man at the spring watched them with what seemed to be uncommon interest; but then that was not so strange, considering what splendid machines they were riding. A trio of such wheels must make almost any one take notice.

Josh surveyed the other curiously as they approached him. It seemed to the boy that he hardly looked like a native of the soil; for he wore clothes far better than the average French farmer could afford; and there was also something about his appearance that suggested his being a foreigner.

To the astonishment of the boys he immediately addressed them in English.

“Your motorcycles I see are American made,” he remarked; “and from that fact I guess you must be like myself from the other side of the ocean. It is strange that we should meet here in this war-stricken country.”

“Then you are an American, too?” asked Josh, before Rod could say a word.

“I am a naturalized citizen of your great and glorious republic,” explained the man. “I was born in Switzerland, but my people emigrated while I was a child. My name it is Oscar William Tell.”

“Oh! you don’t mean to tell me that you spring from the original William Tell, the famous archer who defied the tyrant Gessler, and shot the apple from the head of his own son?” cried Hanky Panky, in delight.

“So I have been told,” replied the other, modestly. “But just now I am more concerned how I may get out of this country of the fighting armies than what my dead and gone ancestors may have been. I have been caught napping, as they say, and for days now have been trying to reach Paris, where I hope to secure some funds, and start back across the ocean to my far-away home.”

The boys exchanged glances. Somehow, although the man had not as yet mentioned such a thing plainly, they could read between the lines, and understand that he was hinting about assistance.

“We could supply you with the little money you may need to pay for your food until you get into Paris,” said Rod, promptly.

“That is indeed very kind of you,” continued the other, eagerly, while his eyes fairly sparkled with satisfaction; “but my greatest need is to be helped on my way a few miles. My feet are so sore I can hardly walk; and I have been told that a short distance ahead there is a railway line over which I might get transportation to the French capital, which cannot be more than fifteen miles away at the most.”

Josh lost no time in offering to take him along. He had often carried a passenger, and never had an accident thus far. Had it been Hanky Panky now, or the still more clumsy Rooster, the undertaking might have assumed a more serious aspect.

“Sure, you are welcome to a seat with me,” he told the other, promptly, right from the depths of his generous heart; “that is, if you think you could hold on, and do the grand balance act.”

The man who claimed to be an American took him at his word so eagerly that there was no chance for Josh to change his mind, even had he wanted to do so.

“I’ll accept that offer, my young friend, and with thanks,” he announced. “Yes, I have been on a motorcycle before now, so I trust you will not think I am endangering your safety. And it will be a great help to me if I can stay with you for a short time.”

The boys each took turns in securing the needed drink, while Oscar curiously examined their machines. Josh, once more a little suspicious, kept an eye on the other while this was going on. It may have suddenly occurred to him that since the man admitted a knowledge of riding on one of the machines possibly he might be seized with a sudden mad impulse to jump into the saddle and try to get away with a mount.

Nothing of the kind happened, however, and Josh was doubtless a little ashamed of his suspicions. At any rate he went to some pains to let the other get seated behind him, as though to make amends for his secret thoughts.

Rod led the way again. So far as he could see there was nothing strange about the plight of the said Oscar. Hundreds of American tourists must have been caught stranded in strange lands when the war broke so suddenly; and when they finally reached home they would have all sorts of remarkable stories to tell concerning their experiences and sufferings. Not all of them could have the great luck, like the motorcycle boys, to carry magical documents signed by the king of the heroic Belgians, and calling on all the Allies to favor the bearers as far as was possible.

They covered several miles of the road. The thunder of the guns grew louder all the while, and Rod fully expected to come upon marching regiments at any time, although the thoroughfare they were following seemed to be singularly free from troops heading toward the scene of the battle.

There was no railway line in sight as yet, though they had covered much more than the distance mentioned by Oscar Tell. But then he may have been misinformed as to distances, which was always possible.

In this fashion they came to a little rise which Rod chose, as customary, to ride up slowly and carefully, not knowing what sort of a surprise might await them at the top.

It was while they were proceeding toward the crown of the hill that Josh suddenly found his machine toppling over. He did not know of any obstacle which he could have run across, for the road seemed absolutely free from stones and such things; and even as he struggled desperately to keep the heavy machine from smashing to the ground he felt a suspicion flash through his brain that in some manner his passenger might have been responsible for the unexpected catastrophe.

Both of them fell off, but beyond the shock, and perhaps a few minor scratches, Josh was not hurt. Indeed, boylike he immediately showed much more concern over a possible injury to his motorcycle than he gave any thought to himself.

Rod heard the crash, as well as the exclamation of dismay springing from Hanky Panky, who was put to some quick work in order to pull up in time to avoid running the unfortunates down.

Rod immediately reached the ground, and laying his machine down hurried back.

“Nothing serious, I hope, Josh?” he inquired, Hanky Panky bustling around, while Oscar was hopping up and down, as though he might have received a bruise on his leg that was painful to a degree.

Josh was frowning dreadfully. Truth to tell his suspicions were growing stronger and stronger all the while; and he even believed the man to whom he had extended the courtesies of the road had purposely brought about the accident at such a particular moment when the fall would be apt to prove less serious than when they were whizzing along at twenty miles an hour.

“I don’t know yet whether the machine is knocked out of commission or not,” muttered Josh, disconsolately, as he proceeded to hastily examine into matters; “but it would be exasperating for us if that happened, just when we’re close to the battle line, and want to get around so lively. Hang the luck, I say!”

He glared in the direction of the apparent cause of all the trouble; but as Oscar was now raising his trouser leg, as if meaning to examine into the state of his own injuries, of course the look was wasted so far as he was concerned.

Rod frowned also. Up to then he had not allowed himself to suspect that the so-called Switzer-American could be other than he so frankly claimed; but somehow it began to dawn upon Rod that there may have been a method in his madness. What if it were all a part of a deep-laid scheme calculated to delay them, for some dark purpose or other?

The thought made him angry. Now that it was too late he felt that they should have seen through the scheme of the other, when he asked to be given a lift on his way. He had claimed boldly to have such sore feet that he could hardly bear to stand his weight upon them; yet here he was now dancing around as lightly as any one could.

“But what object could he have in view?” Rod was asking himself, even while continuing to keep a cautious eye on Oscar, though he pretended to be tending over Josh, still examining his wheel.

Like a flash it shot through Rod’s mind that this same Oscar might be in league with the man who was devoting all his talents and energies to the task of getting a certain paper out of their possession–Jules Baggott. He had already shown himself to be possessed of considerable skill at planning, and the story told by Oscar may have all been made up out of whole cloth, just to cause them delay, and give the plotter another opportunity to rob them.

It was well that these thoughts should have raced through Rod’s mind just then; for they caused him to take exact note of what the stranger was doing. Josh chanced to be too busily engaged at the time to observe anything; as for Hanky Panky, really he was not to be depended on. And that his sudden suspicions were well founded Rod presently had positive evidence.