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

This was what happened!

Oscar had for the time being ceased to remember his bruised leg, and even his grunts had temporarily stopped, which would apparently indicate that after all his injuries were not so serious as he had made out.

He was now industriously engaged in ridding his garments of some of the dust which they had accumulated at the time he and Josh rolled over in the road. To the surprise of Rod he even took out his handkerchief, and used this to wipe the sleeves of his coat.

Just then Rod, out of the tail of his eye, noticed the fellow give a quick glance toward Josh and Hanky Panky, both of whom were bending over the former’s machine, anxiously examining to ascertain if it had really been much damaged.

Instinctively Rod made out to be industriously looking at something of interest in the near distance. He even shaded his eyes with one hand, though at the same time he could manage to see Oscar.

It paid him well in the bargain, for he noticed that while dusting his coat as a dandy detesting all manner of dirt might, the said Oscar also flirted that white handkerchief in a strange manner.

Then it suddenly dawned upon Rod that the fellow was actually making some sort of signal to an unknown party further off. He used his eyes to advantage, for he immediately caught what seemed to be an answering wave from a patch of trees possibly three hundred yards away, and along the side of the rise!

This complicated matters exceedingly. Oscar, then, was a fraud of the first water. His story must be a tissue of lies from beginning to end. Perhaps even his name had been assumed for a purpose, which was to entrap the three American boys.

Rod had to think very fast just then. A plan of campaign must be arranged on the spur of the moment, fitted to cover the case. Of course he could not more than give a guess as to what it all meant, except that there was danger in the air for himself and chums.

Could the pretended Swiss-American be in truth a German spy, bent on taking them prisoner for some mysterious reason or other? Rod felt sure this could not be, for he had failed to detect a sign of the Teutonic guttural in the voice of the other. In fact, Rod was inclined to suspect him of being of French origin, for when speaking he had all the shrugs and grimaces which so often mark the natives of France, especially when excited, and making explanations.

The three comrades were almost unarmed. Knowing the constant peril of capture that menaced them, should they chance to run upon a squad of German soldiers, Rod had decided that it would be the height of folly for them to carry firearms; for if found to be armed they were likely to be considered in the light of guerrillas, since they belonged to neither army as enlisted men.

Of course the three of them would easily be able to overcome Oscar, who did not appear to be very brawny in build. But if he had accomplices near at hand even his capture might not prove sufficient to stave off the danger.

Rod conceived a better scheme than to simply overpower the suspect. Why not make him a hostage for the good behavior of his associates? The idea seized hold of the boy, and in that instant he determined to put it into immediate practice.

Oscar would be surprised to find that his cunning plot had been seen through. In fact there would be others in the same fix, for Rod could imagine the astonishment of Josh and Hanky Panky, possibly utterly unsuspicious regarding the true course of events.

It happened that Rod had in his pocket a little tool shaped not unlike one of those modern automatic pistols that can be fired as fast as the finger presses the trigger. He believed this would answer his purpose admirably, and acting on the spur of the moment he immediately drew it forth.

Oscar was still very diligent with that handkerchief of his, switching it to and fro, as though determined that not a speck of dust should remain to mar the appearance of his garments. It would seem as though Oscar must be an exquisite of the first water when on his native heath; though Rod was more firmly convinced than ever that this was Gay Paree rather than Cincinnati, Ohio, which he had so boldly claimed as his home city.

So Rod, sauntering toward the other in an apparently idle fashion, suddenly came up behind him, and clapped the cold metal tool against the nape of Oscar’s neck, causing a shudder to pass through the other’s whole system.

“Don’t try to make a move or you are a dead man!” said Rod, sternly; “I’ll pull the trigger if you so much as turn your head this way!”

“Gee! whilikins!” exclaimed Josh, whirling about; while Hanky Panky, taken completely by surprise, could only stand there and stare as though he imagined Rod had suddenly taken leave of his senses, for up to that moment Hanky had not entertained the slightest suspicion toward the man they were helping on his way.

Oscar apparently understood; at any rate he remained as motionless as though carved out of stone. His face went white, and his eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, but he knew better than to risk having his poor brains blown out by an incautious movement.

“Your game is up, my friend!” said Rod sternly. “I’ve been watching you send a message to some one with that handkerchief of yours. Don’t waste your breath to deny it. You have been trying to lead us into a trap, perhaps for the sake of helping your friend, Jules. Well, we are on to your game, and mean to block it. Josh!”

“On deck, Rod!” exclaimed the one addressed, cheerily, with a wide grin decorating his face; for it amused him to see how after all Rod had taken matters into his own hands, and turned the tables on the scoundrel.

“You’re getting to be a clever hand at playing the frisking act, Josh,” continued the leader of the trio; “suppose you look this chap over, and remove any deadly weapons you may find. I’ll keep him still, dead or alive, while you do it.”

“I beg of you to be careful, young M’sieu!” gasped Oscar, betraying his French origin in that unguarded moment; “I assure you I am not thinking of offering resistance; and it might be your finger it would slip, to my everlasting regret.”

Josh lost no time in commencing work. As Rod had said, of late the other had been having considerable experience at this sort of business, and boasted of being quite an expert.

“Whee! here’s a nasty looking gun, Rod!” he speedily announced.

“Hand it here, then, and I’ll take possession of it,” the other told him; “then keep on feeling in every pocket, Josh.”

“Some papers, Rod–letters they look like,” came another announcement presently.

“Give them to me; when I have time I’d like to look them over, and see if the hand of our friend Jules is back of this game. Hello! what’s this. These letters are addressed to M. Armand Marchant, Rue de Rivoli, Paris. Quite a difference between that name and Oscar William Tell, eh? But I’m not surprised a whit. Keep on looking, Josh, especially for more ugly guns.”

Apparently, however, that one weapon was all the man “toted,” for no more could be discovered.

“All right, then,” said Rod when his chum proclaimed the finish of his search; “I’ll change to his own revolver, which I see is nicely loaded. It is more to be depended on than my own tool,” with which remark he held the article in question before the eyes of the prisoner, who turned fiery red with confusion and anger, while Josh and Hanky Panky burst into peals of laughter at the joke.

“Now listen to me,” continued Rod, sternly again, “you are to go with us over the rise here. Remember you are a hostage for our safe conduct. If your friends attempt to attack us your life will be forfeited the first thing. So I’d advise you not to try and signal again, if you know what’s good for you.”

“One thing I’m glad to tell you, Rod,” remarked Josh; “which is that after all the damage to my machine isn’t worth mentioning. I reckon he meant it to be put out of commission, and even took chances of getting hurt himself so as to accomplish it; but the Whitcomb luck stuck by me, all right, all right. Do you think you can move your machine along and attend to him at the same time, Rod?”

“Oh! that’s easily fixed,” replied the other, cheerily, “because Oscar is going to attend to the trundling act for me. It’s the least he can do to make up for the bother he’s given us. And his feet have gotten well in the bargain, just as if a miracle had been wrought. Get busy, Oscar, and start pushing uphill!”

The man did not dare venture any protest. What was the use of his trying to plead weariness or a bruised leg when they knew that he was a fraud of the first water, and had, as Josh would say, “tumbled to his game?”

So he took hold of Rod’s heavy machine, and toiled manfully up the ascent. As he went he cast numerous anxious glances to the right and to the left; but Rod understood now that these were not in hopes of seeing his confederates suddenly dash into view, since that would be the signal for his own troubles to begin; rather was the man mentally praying they would remain in hiding, having grasped the new state of affairs, which could not be to their liking.

They reached the crown of the low hill, but did not linger there, for the position was too exposed. Once down to the level again Rod began to consider dropping the pilot, as they had no further need of his protecting services, with the road level and straight stretching away for miles ahead.

“Do we get into our saddles again now, Rod?” asked Josh, as a halt was called.

The other glanced around. So far as he could see there did not seem to be any reason for delaying their departure further. Certainly any persons who may have been in ambush on the hillside could not have managed to get further along the road so as to waylay them.

“Yes, you start the ball rolling, Josh; and Hanky will follow. I’ll keep our new friend engaged until you get going, when I’ll start after you both.”

“Then you expect to leave Oscar here, do you, Rod?” questioned Josh.

“Oh! he’ll find assistance, if his sore feet get to hurting him dreadfully again,” replied the leader, whimsically. “But I’d advise him to sit down by the roadside, and not attempt to bother me any. He knows how well his gun is loaded; and I think I could hit that top button of his coat, even when on the move, the first clip!”

Oscar, as they would still have to call him for want of a better name, shrugged his shoulders at hearing this declaration.

“Believe me, young M’sieu, I do not mean to give you the chance. I know when I have enough. Things have not gone to my liking at all. And this is a very comfortable seat, I assure you.”

He sat down and folded his hands while Josh started off, Hanky Panky speedily following him, and calling back:

“Don’t trust him too far, Rod, please; really, I hardly like the look of his eye.”

“That’s all right,” laughed Rod, unconcernedly, “Oscar can’t help his looks; but he knows enough to sit tight sometimes, and this is one of them.”

Rod moved his machine far enough away from the seated man to prevent any possibility of the other playing him any treacherous trick. Then he got himself ready to mount.

Even as he started off, holding the weapon still in his right hand so as to be in a position to use it on Oscar, he had a glimpse of the fellow tumbling backward; and at the same instant his voice rang out in loud shouts. Perhaps he was calling to his comrades, hoping to hasten their arrival so that they might yet cut off the flight of the last boy, who evidently had on his person the paper they were after.

So Rod passed down the road, with the late prisoner still whooping it up in the rear. Taking a fleeting look behind him, Rod could see that Oscar had now managed to scramble to his feet, doubtless deeming the danger point passed. He was wildly accentuating his extravagant gestures by renewed shouting; and Rod even imagined he could catch some movement further back, as though those who were being summoned might be hurrying to the spot.

Well, let them come. He and his two comrades could afford to laugh, because the game had turned so nicely in their favor after all. And then they were ahead one bulky revolver in the bargain.

Rod was at first tempted to toss this weapon away, but on second thoughts concluded to retain it for the present. That wily schemer Jules Baggott might have yet another ambuscade prepared for them a little further on, and such a tool was apt to come in handy in case of a surprise.

Although no mention has been made of the fact, because other stirring events continued to face the boys, they knew that they must be steadily drawing nearer the scene of warfare, because the roaring of big guns became more and more insistent with every mile they covered.

It would not surprise Rod in the least should they come in sight of some spirited action at almost any time now. Realizing that it was his duty to be in the van at such a critical juncture, so as to occupy a position to decide on their course of action, he gave the signal so well known to the others, and which meant that they were to hold up.

They were several miles away from the spot where Oscar had been left in the lurch, so no danger hung over their heads from that source. Rod soon explained just why he had called the temporary halt; and then once more the journey was resumed, this time in their regular order, with Hanky Panky bringing up the rear.

Rod knew they must be drawing near the bank of the Marne, which river flowing from the east empties into the Seine. He had been given to understand that it was along the banks of this river that the vast German host had retreated after their bold plan for taking Paris had been frustrated, and their flanks were threatened by the Allied forces.

Looking ahead when there came a more than usually fierce outburst of cannonading, he believed he could see where the battle was progressing, though the distance was still too great to make out which side manned the guns that were being fired. It was just then that in turning a bend of the road he suddenly came upon a most interesting sight, though at the same time it struck his soul with a feeling akin to awe, and sent a shiver through his frame.

Evidently a field hospital had been established in a spot where it was out of range of the German guns beyond. He saw numerous shelters of canvas, with busy surgeons and attendants, both men and women nurses. Along the roads, and across the level fields were hurrying ambulances and vans of every description, each bearing its load of wounded picked up along the front.

Rod threw up his hand. It was the signal that he was about to stop, and wanted to let his chums know so that they might be prepared to follow suit.

A few seconds later and they were at his side, gaping at the strange picture now spread before them. Josh was going to have his dearest wish realized, for they had undoubtedly now reached the battle line, and could see some of the desperate charges and counter-charges attempted on both sides.

The Germans had evidently turned at bay in their great retreat, and were seeking to hold back the pursuit of the furious French, whose ardor was apt to carry them to desperate attempts to break that solid line of green-gray.

Hanky Panky was almost holding his breath. He did not possess the same disposition that Josh had, and all this dreadful suffering was apt to fill him with horror. Still, he had a boy’s ordinary share of curiosity, and might even be morbid enough to run so as to see an injured man in a railway accident, even if he came near fainting immediately afterwards.

“It’s a French field hospital, isn’t it, Rod?” asked Josh.

“There’s no mistaking the tri-color flag that waves near the one with the Red Cross,” replied the other, without the least hesitation.

“Oh! what a pity we lost our field glasses,” continued Josh, disconsolately. “We could never have such a splendid chance again to watch the play of a real battle like that going on over there; and it’s a bit too far for the naked eye to get the full benefit of it all. I’d give everything I own for binoculars right now. Rod, don’t you think we might push on a little nearer the firing line?”

Rod shook his head in the negative.

“The chances are we’d be rounded up in a hurry, and forced to turn back,” he told the eager comrade. “As it is I’m surprised we’ve been able to get as close as we have right now. It’s a part of our luck, I guess. But I was thinking that if we chose to go over to the field hospital perhaps after we’d made friends with some of the doctors and attendants, helped a little it might be, we’d find a chance to borrow a pair of binoculars from some one.”

“Bully for you, Rod; that sounds good to me!” exclaimed Josh; while Hanky Panky gave a little gasp, and was heard to say almost helplessly:

“Oh! my stars, do we have to run smack into that hospital business, when often the sight of blood gives me the creeps, and makes my knees wobble?”

“You can squat down right here, and stay if you want to, Hanky Panky,” volunteered Josh; whereat the other seemed to make a swift mental calculation, after which he shut his teeth firmly together, and went on to say resolutely:

“I’m game if you both are; besides, something might happen to me here, if that miserable Jules and his crowd came along the road back of us. Yes, I’ll go,” but it could easily be seen that Hanky Panky was not taking any great pleasure in the outlook.

They could use their machines for a short distance along the road; then it became necessary for them to dismount, break down a fence, and trundle the motorcycles across a field to where the temporary hospital had been established, in touch with the battle lines.

Motor vehicles were coming and going at speedy intervals. Rod noticed that they all used another road, which evidently must be the direct course to Paris, where the wounded heroes were being hurried after their injuries had received first care; because that is usually all a field hospital is intended to accomplish, staunching the flow of blood, and in other ways holding the spark of life until operations can be attempted further removed from the scene of action.

Every one inside the limits of the place seemed to be desperately busy. Men were rushing this way and that with stretchers, carrying wounded soldiers back and forth. Vehicles were coming and going, and these seemed of all descriptions, from the customary ambulance to big lorries run with a motor; and all of them bore the sign of the Red Cross on their sides, in order to protect them as much as possible from the fire of the enemy.

It was in this manner therefore that the three Motorcycle Boys found themselves entering a new phase of their extraordinary adventures, and one that would doubtless never be forgotten, even when they found themselves once again safe in their distant homes.

“Look, an aeroplane coming this way!” exclaimed Hanky Panky, pointing upwards.

“If you glance off yonder,” added Josh, “you’ll see more than one of the same. They’re hanging over the battle lines, and I guess sending signals back to tell what the observer notes from his perch away up aloft.”

“Just what they’re doing, Josh,” Rod went on to say, as he stopped for a brief time to take a look in the direction indicated.

In fact, they could make out as many as half a dozen of the fliers, some darting about as swift as swallows on the wing, others more stationary, and evidently with the operators busily engaged transmitting signals.

“There, see that one dropping something white!” cried Hanky Panky; “chances are he’s giving the gunners on his side a tip, so they can get the range of the German battery, and put it out of action with a volley.”

“And there’s going to be something doing pretty soon, or I miss my guess,” added Josh, excitedly; “because there comes a pair of those Taube machines bent on giving the French ones battle. Rod, we’re going to watch a fight in the sky, don’t you see? Whee! but this is the life, take it from me. I never dreamed I’d be so lucky as to be right on the lines when a big battle was taking place.”

The pair of Taube machines came swiftly along to engage the rival aeroplanes that had been making so free with the secrets of the German defences. Evidently the aviators had been ordered to put a stop to the operations of the French pilots, no matter at what cost to themselves.

“They’re shooting at each other now!” cried Josh; “you can see the puffs of smoke break out every second; and it’s different from the bursting of shrapnel shells all around them.”

“Gee! whiz! but this is awfully exciting!” gasped Hanky Panky, stretching his neck still more in order to follow the swift evolutions of the rival air machines; “what if one of them has the hard luck to get his motor smashed by a ball; or his gasoline tank exploded?”

“That’d be a bad thing for the men in the aeroplane, I should say!” Josh informed him. “They must be all of half a mile high, and a fall would flatten a poor chump out like a pancake.”

“There’s one of the Germans turning tail right now and running away!” called out Hanky Panky; “and the other–why, see how queer that machine is acting, will you? It keeps turning around like a corkscrew, and seems to be dropping all the while.”

“A good reason, too,” snapped Josh. “French guns proved superior to the Kaiser’s, for they did some damage. That Taube is falling! Only for the skill of the two men aboard it’d be coming down right now like the stick of a spent rocket, or a meteor aiming to strike the earth.”

All of them watched the erratic course of the disabled aeroplane with the keenest interest. Indeed, the valiant pilot certainly deserved a great deal of praise for the way in which he manipulated his charge. At the same time the Taube was going to strike the earth with a severe blow.

“I wouldn’t like to be aboard that poor craft, let me tell you,” said Hanky Panky, as it neared the earth, not far back of the French front; “the people in it are going to get broken arms or legs, and the machine will be smashed in pieces.”

“Huh! they’ll call themselves lucky if it ends at that,” snorted Josh; “some men would have their necks or backs broken; but these German aviators are a tough lot, I’ve heard, and can stand a heap of pounding.”

Even as they looked the wrecked Taube struck the ground. Some soldiers had hastened in that direction, and were on the spot almost as soon as the disabled German machine landed. They could be seen moving about amidst the wreckage of the aeroplane. Then they appeared carrying something in their midst.

“They’ve picked up the occupants of the fallen Taube,” said Rod, “and from the way they carry them the poor chaps must be badly hurt. Yes, there they’ve stopped that ambulance coming from the front, and are getting the wounded birdmen aboard. The French admire bravery, even in a mortal foe, and you can be sure that those gallant fellows will receive just as good care as if they were their own men.”

He again started to move forward. The field hospital was now close at hand, and they could expect to be within its borders in a few minutes more.

Hanky Panky nerved himself for the terrible ordeal he knew was before him. Both the other lads also shut their lips firmly, so that they might endure the gruesome sights without feeling faint; for they were not accustomed to such things, and but boys after all.

Some of those they met eyed them in wonder, doubtless at a loss to know who the three youngsters were, and what brought them to the battle lines. No one seemed to think of stopping them and asking questions; it might be from lack of time.

Whenever Rod noticed some officer near by he gave the regulation salute, which may have induced the others to believe the boys actually belonged to some branch of the service; though their khaki uniforms would rather indicate a connection with the British army just then co-operating with General Joffre.

The boys had just succeeded in stacking their machines when an opportunity came that allowed them to render assistance in carrying several poor fellows into one of the tent shelters. A lorry had arrived, and there did not seem to be any attendant on hand to help the driver, who looked around in despair.

“Come along, Josh, and lend a hand here!” exclaimed Rod, equal to any emergency, as he sprang forward.

Hanky Panky started, but soon held back, unable to bear the sight of the wounded men who were in the motor truck.

The two boys succeeded in carrying three of them inside the shelter, where they were placed as comfortably as possible, awaiting the time when the bustling surgeon, engaged with other cases, could attend to their hurts. One of them was in a very bad way, having been terribly injured by a bursting shell. It pierced Rod’s sympathetic heart just to look at his white, blood-specked face. But the black eyes were still full of fire and animation; and when Rod held a dipper of cold water to the lips of the soldier of the republic the other drank greedily, and then thanked him in French.

“It may be the last drink I shall ever want,” he told Rod complacently, “but I rejoice to know I have lived to see the day when a French army has made the German beast turn tail and run. My father died before Paris many years ago, and I have prayed for this glorious day to come. I am satisfied. I have done my duty to France.”

It made a powerful impression on both the boys. Such bravery and devotion to country could hardly fail to do otherwise. Secretly they hoped the valiant soldier might survive his terrible injuries, and live to see the day when victory crowned the tri-color of France, which he adored.

The busy surgeon now found a chance to pay attention to the later victims of German bullets and bursting shells and bombs. At the same time he started a conversation with Rod, the latter being the only one of the boys who could speak French.

Presently Rod turned again to Josh to say:

“Here’s a streak of luck for us, Josh. Just as soon as he’s through with the case he’s now working on, the gentleman, Dr. Gervaise, is going to loan us his binoculars. He also says there is a slight elevation twenty yards back of this shelter, from the top of which we can get a pretty fair view of the battle lines. From what he tells me I figure we’ll be just in good time to witness something that is going to take place before long.”

Of course this pleased Josh exceedingly, because it was a field-glass he had been yearning for ever since they found themselves within touch of the field of battle. He even tried to assist the wearied army surgeon as best he might, for Josh had an abundance of nerve, and could accustom himself to almost any sight if he had a motive controlling his actions.

Presently, armed with the Lemaire binoculars, Rod led the way out of the temporary shelter under which the victims of the fierce fighting could be shielded from the hot September sun while the principle of “first aid to the injured” was being applied.

Hanky Panky was lingering near by, watching some of the interesting sights, and evidently finding it a difficult thing to retain a firm grip on himself. He greeted the reappearance of his chums with eagerness. Perhaps he even hoped that they meant to quit the confines of the field hospital, and depart to other regions. At sight of the field-glasses which Rod waved at him Hanky understood, however, just why they were hurrying toward that elevation close by; and he trotted at their heels as an obedient little spaniel might have done.

Once they reached the summit of the rise it was found that the French surgeon had not overstated the fact when saying that a very good view of the battle lines could be obtained from this point. Rod took a look and then handed the glasses over to Josh, knowing how eager the other was to see at close range what was going on over where the big guns were thundering so fiercely–where also the French lay in hiding, ready to again charge desperately upon the German trenches when the word to advance was given. The ground between the hostile armies was covered with the fallen. Josh shivered as he contemplated the terrible spectacle. It would doubtless haunt him for many a day and night to come. He looked everywhere, not even omitting to glance upward so as to see what the flying birdmen might be doing; then he handed the binoculars over to Hanky Panky, who received them eagerly, despite his sensation of horror.

When Hanky Panky leveled the glasses at the distant line of hastily thrown up German trenches the first thing he saw was what seemed to be an innumerable army of men in drab working feverishly to strengthen their defences.

Already they had tasted of the new-born French enthusiasm, and could anticipate that much more of the same sort was bound to break loose. Long years had those fiery Gauls been hugging to their hearts the thought of revenge for the humiliation suffered away back in ’71, when their beloved Paris echoed to the tramp of the victorious Teutonic hosts.

They began to believe the day had dawned at last when the shame of their fathers could be wiped out, and the tables turned on the hated foe.

How Hanky Panky did turn from one point to another and “soak” it all in, as Josh remarked aside to Rod, impatiently waiting for a second chance to observe what was going on over there beyond the windrows of the dead.

It seemed as though Hanky Panky could not tear his eyes away from the amazing sight which fairly fascinated him. As though held in the grip of a nightmare the boy was staring and muttering to himself. Sometimes his words signified wonder and awe; then again there was an underlying vein of compassion in what Hanky Panky said; for his heart was greatly touched by the sight of all this terrible misery. He could see some of the forms on the late battlefield moving. He realized that men in anguish must be calling out for a drink of cooling water so as to quench their burning thirst. Others were doubtless suffering all sorts of tortures from the wounds they had received.

To be sure the hospital attendants were doing everything they could to gather up the wounded. Men bearing the sacred Red Cross, from both the French and the German sides, were moving about, searching for those in whom life still remained. Vehicles could also be seen in places, receiving some of these victims, while the men with stretchers stumbled about carrying their groaning burdens to the rear.

Yes, Hanky Panky would never forget what he saw that day, though he lived to a ripe old age, for it was burned upon his memory indelibly.

Josh, getting impatient, was just about to demand the binoculars when the other uttered a sudden cry that gave them a new thrill:

“Oh! see what’s going to happen now, will you, fellows?” was the burden of his announcement; “there’s a new French army hurrying up to attack them on the flank; and they’ve given the signal for a general advance. Great snakes! but it’s going to be an awful sight when they come to close grips!”

That was too much for Josh to stand. He had been at the point of rebellion before, and this was the “last straw that broke the camel’s back.” He snatched the glasses from the trembling hand of his comrade almost rudely, though perhaps Josh did not mean it that way, only he was fearfully excited.

Of course Rod could see something of what was transpiring, even without the aid of the binoculars, though they were bound to be a great help. He had immediately turned his gaze upon the spot indicated, and discovered that what Hanky Panky called out was true.

A great mass of men clad in the regulation French uniform came rushing forward from the left quarter. Guns were fast starting up here, there, everywhere, to rain a perfect hail of shells on the German line, so as to prevent the defenders from springing forward to meet the new attack.

At the same time those Frenchmen lying concealed in front also sprang to do their part of the work. The air was rent with shouts from thousands of throats, though the tattoo of the guns became so insistent that even this sounded faintly, as rain might on the roof between thunder-claps.

Riveted to the spot with the wonder of the spectacle, which they had never dreamed would fall to their vision, the three boys stood there, unable to speak a single word. Indeed, with all that frightful noise going on speech was next door to folly, and they wisely held their breath.

The Germans had anticipated just such an assault, no doubt, for it was along their flank that they had been so industriously throwing up new entrenchments at the time Rod and his chums first sighted them.

They had not been given sufficient time, however, to get more than half prepared when the mighty blow fell. Those enthusiastic Frenchmen, realizing that they had Von Kluck’s army finally on the run, did not mean to lose any of their advantage by unnecessary delay. They could not be held in, even had their officers wished to attempt such a thing. Rod indeed was reminded of the impetuous charge of hounds, once they were released from the leash.

It was all very plain to Rod, who was a boy with a long head. He knew that when the vast German host had advanced so steadily toward Paris, sweeping everything out of their path with such apparent ease, they had certainly brought along with them many great siege guns, with which to batter down the forts defending the city.

Some of these were the famous forty-two centimetre guns which had proved at Liege and Namur that no modern fort could hold out against the enormous weight of metal they were capable of dropping, almost vertically, on the works, from a distance of many miles.

Then when the sudden alteration came about in the plans of Von Kluck, and his army turned aside from Paris so as to save its exposed flank, the one thought in the mind of the general was to save those wonderful guns, without which all his work would be for naught.

It was for this purpose that these desperate rearguard actions were being undertaken by the retreating Germans. Some of the big guns were drawn by traction engines, and their progress even over good roads must necessarily be very slow. To enable them to be transported to the positions already prepared along the Aisne River, looking to a possible retreat, the victorious French had to be kept at bay.

So tens of thousands of Teutons must fall during those bitter days in order that the Krupp guns might be saved to the cause. Manfully they stood up to their task. There was not a sign of wavering as they met the furious charge of the French, who seemed determined on thrusting the enemy out of their newly made trenches at the point of the bayonet.

Josh, remembering how he had felt a brief time before, presently gave a sigh and reluctantly handed the glasses over to Rod. The latter gladly received them, and without a second’s delay proceeded to glue his eyes to the smaller end.

It was like a living picture of other battles that Rod remembered seeing, done in colors; but the realization that this was the real thing he now gazed on so entranced thrilled him again and again.

Backed by every gun that could be brought to bear upon the German front, the living stream of blue and red-clad French soldiers, men of the line, zouaves, chasseurs and all, plunged madly along. Little they recked that many fell by the way under the storm of missiles that belched from the hostile trenches; the lines closed over the gaps almost mechanically, and only the figures that dotted the field after their passage told of the terrible price with which the action was accompanied.

Now they were close up to the trenches, and some even leaping over the redoubt, to grapple hand to hand with those who so desperately defended it.

Brave though they were, the French had been so decimated in their mad rush that it seemed as though there could not be enough of them left to overcome the resistance of the defenders of the works.

It was while Rod was filled with this sense of anxiety that he noticed something calculated to arouse new hope; for somehow he found himself in sympathy with the French soldiers, perhaps because they had been the under dog in the other war, when their fair country was overrun by Bismarck’s armies.

The wise French commander-in-chief, possibly General Joffre himself, had seen to it that reserves were on hand to take up the fight after the first line had hewn a way into the hostile trenches. Yes, there they came along like a serried mass, or the waters bursting from a vast reservoir after the dam has been broken.

He saw the living wave strike the first embankment and pass over. He knew what terrible work must be going on beyond that thrown-up earth, for in bayonet work the French have ever been without a rival. He pitied the Germans who were trying to hold the first line of trenches so valiantly, for they would mostly be either killed, wounded, or taken prisoner.

The French guns still roared unceasingly, though that part of the great Marne battle was already as good as won. Now their exploding missiles were being hurled further on, so as to add to the perplexities of the hurriedly retreating Germans, making for the next line of trenches, which in turn would doubtless be just as stubbornly defended.

Josh it was now who used the glasses. As a rule Josh had always been reckoned a generous fellow, sharing alike with his friends; but to-day a spirit of greed possessed him. There was Hanky Panky, who really shrank from such scenes as a battle–why bother paying any attention to him when there was only a single pair of binoculars to go around?

Indeed, Hanky Panky made no further claim on the precious glasses; evidently he had seen enough and more than enough as it was, to satisfy his ambition. He was staring toward those figures dotting the new field, and his lips kept moving as though he might be uttering words of commiseration, though of course what he said could not be heard above the universal clamor that continued with unabated vigor.

Gradually, though, the racket began to slacken, as though word had gone forth that the pursuit of the retiring foe must be temporarily abandoned. Victory had perched on the banner of the defenders of the soil; the lilies of France had swept proudly over the trenches of the foe; still further back from the imperiled capital had the host of Von Kluck been pushed, but all gained at a terrible cost.

So the guns began to cease firing. New positions must now be taken up so as to continue the good work. Everywhere the Germans would be pressed back and back until possibly the ardent French believed they would be forced to retreat to the Rhine.

And now new features began to appear upon the field that had so lately been the scene of a fearful engagement. Batches of dejected looking prisoners were being convoyed to the rear, stout-looking young fellows as a rule; for in the early months of the great war the German army consisted of the pick of the whole empire, every soldier being an almost perfect specimen of physical manhood. Later on, when havoc had been made in their ranks by continuous engagements, younger and older reserves would begin to make their appearance to fill the gaps.

Then again did the French Red Cross attendants with their handy stretchers begin to reap the harvest of the battle. Of Germans there were none, for since their side had been compelled to retreat so hastily most of their hospital corps had accompanied them, leaving to the victors the double task of caring for the wounded of both armies.

When Rod, again with the glasses, saw how the French attendants did not discriminate in favor of their own men, but took them just as they came, a German even before a Frenchman, he realized the spirit of brotherly love that really exists between the common people of all countries, even though by force of circumstances they may be compelled to face each other in deadly carnage for the faults of politicians or kings.

Well, it was all over now, but the binding up of wounds and the sad burial of the many who had fallen. The invaders had been pushed still further back, and their hopes of taking Paris received an apparently fatal blow.

“Josh, you can never again say that you haven’t seen a real battle,” remarked Rod, as they made their way back toward the shelter where the almost exhausted surgeon, aided by his assistants, would now have to start in afresh with the incoming of another batch of cases needing immediate attention.

“I’m satisfied,” replied Josh in a suppressed manner; “and between us both, Rod, I want to own up that I hope I’ll never have another chance to look on such a terrible sight; though remember, I wouldn’t have missed it for a whole lot.”

Although the three lads had already performed an amount of labor that would have considerably astonished their home folks, could they have witnessed it, and filled them all with pride in the bargain, they were not yet through, it seemed.

“Here’s plenty more for us to do, fellows,” suggested Rod, as they reached the canvas shelter tent, where the procession of stretchers was beginning to arrive, each with its sad burden.

“I’m willing to help all I can,” said Hanky Panky, trying to look as though he could stand anything after what he had passed through.

Indeed there was need of assistance. Two other field hospitals had already been established not far away, since the subjects were many times more numerous now that Germans as well as French were beginning to be brought in for treatment. And a steady string of ambulances and motor lorries would soon start to taking the wounded in the direction of Paris, where they could be better attended to.

So for at least two hours the three brave-hearted American boys stood up to the work to which none of them were accustomed. They certainly, in that space of time, earned the everlasting gratitude of the nation whose sons they assisted in their time of need.

Rod was interested in several Germans who had been taken prisoners, slightly wounded. He entered into conversation with one of them, and managed to learn more of the other side of the contention than he had known before.

Finally even the willing Josh was heard to declare that he had about reached the limit of his endurance, while Hanky Panky looked ready to drop.

“We’ve got to get away from here, Rod,” Josh was saying; “after all we’re only boys, and this is a terrible experience for us. Our chum is nearly done up; and as for myself I admit that I’m getting shaky.”

Rod himself had to confess that they ought to be making a move. The worst of the bringing in of the wounded was over by now, and besides, more attendants were on hand to look after things.

“That’s all right, boys,” he assured his chums, “we’ve done our level best to be of some help to our friends, the French; and now it’s only fair we should start in looking after our own affairs again.”

“I’ve noticed you talking with a number of men besides our surgeon friend, Rod; have you picked up any sort of information that’d be of use to us?” demanded the other shrewdly, guessing what their leader must have had in mind.

“Something that may turn out to be worth while,” came the reply.

“Meaning you’ve struck a clue about the regiment to which Andre belongs–is that what it is?” continued Josh.

“Yes, and of course it’ll be our object to run across the same as soon as we can,” he was told; “because it’s beginning to strike me that we ought to get away from this war-stricken country. We’ve seen things that few boys ever could run across–things that’ll haunt us for a long time, I’m afraid.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Rod,” remarked Hanky Panky, white of face after his recent experiences; indeed, it was mostly on account of this comrade that Rod had made up his mind not to linger in that region an hour after their mission had been accomplished.

“There’s another thing I want to tell you, fellows, which is a bit more cheerful, I’m glad to say,” continued Rod. “Our supply of petrol is nearly exhausted, you must know, and getting another lot at a time like this might prove a pretty tough proposition.”

“I was just thinking about that!” declared Josh, “and had it on the tip of my tongue to ask you what we ought to do about it.”

“Well, fortunately it’s been made easy,” Rod informed him; “our good friend, the army surgeon, has given me a paper that will allow us to replenish our tanks at the general supply station which I’ve already located. He said it was little enough in recognition of the work we’ve been doing.”

Both the other boys declared that it was a splendid thing, and congratulated Rod on his forethought in looking out for the necessary supplies. Without liquid fuel with which to drive their speedy motorcycles they would find themselves in a “serious pickle,” as Josh said; for every gallon in the whole country had undoubtedly been seized by the military authorities–that is, what little the Germans had not discovered and confiscated while passing through.

Accordingly their first labor was to proceed to the tank, present the order given by the surgeon, who actually ruled the field hospital, and the man in charge readily allowed them to refill their reservoirs with the precious liquid.

It was with a thankful heart that Hanky Panky finally turned his back on the field hospital. He had passed through so many painful experiences since striking that place he felt as though his nerves had been badly rattled.

After the late battle a strange calm seemed to have settled down again. Doubtless both sides were replenishing their stock of ammunition and getting in readiness for the next upheaval; for the French would never cease to attack as long as they knew they had the enemy “on the run,” and that it was French soil those detestable German boots were still pressing.

Rod had figured things out as best he could. The wearied army surgeons had also been able to give him a few pointers that might prove of value.

As they progressed they could no longer say that they had the road to themselves. A score of different sights were before their eyes much of the time, consisting for the most part of vehicles bearing the wounded heroes far to the rear; other empty ones hurrying forward to secure their loads; detachments of sullen prisoners being taken under guard to a detention camp; squads of French soldiers bent upon some duty; here a belated regiment hastening forward, eager to be in at the next furious engagement; peasants standing in the doorways of their cottages watching all that went on, and laughing with the passersby, because victory was in the air for France, and it mattered little that they had lost all their live stock when the German hosts trooped by, if only the “day” they had long prayed for had indeed arrived.

So the Motorcycle Boys had to pick their way along now; it could no longer be said of them that they fairly “flew” over the road. Besides the numerous obstructions in the shape of vehicles coming and going, there were many ragged holes to be encountered, where mighty shells had fallen and exploded, forming craters that had to be carefully negotiated lest the riders meet with a serious catastrophe.

Besides this, all along the way they discovered such cast-off material as the retreating German army had discarded in order to hasten their march–broken caissons and guns that had been rendered temporarily useless by reason of some accident; stocks of provisions that could not be carried; cooking outfits that were the most complete affairs the boys had ever seen; and many other things which could not be safely carried off by an army that was being hourly harassed by a fierce and unrelenting foe.

The day had worn on while they were in the field hospital so that it was now getting well along in the afternoon. Rod knew they would soon have to be thinking of seeking some sort of shelter for the night. He was more particular about this because clouds had come up, and there seemed a chance that rain would follow, as often happens immediately after a great battle has been fought in which there is much cannon firing and consequent concussion of the atmosphere.

At noon they had shared the meagre lunch of the noble French army surgeon, who had conceived such an ardent admiration for the trio of young Americans. Josh was already heard saying that he felt as hungry as a tramp who had been walking the railroad ties from early morning; and hoping that they would be lucky enough to soon strike a house where a meal might be secured.

This was what Rod had in mind when ahead of him he discovered signs of a pretty little French village. His hopes mounted higher because from the evidence before them it seemed plain that the retreating Germans had somehow managed to pass around this small place, so that there was a pretty good chance they would find a hospitable woman there, who, after learning that they had been assisting in the field, would be only too proud to cook them a meal, and it might be allow them to sleep in her house.

“I’d be willing to occupy a shed, or even a dog-kennel so long as it didn’t have a French poodle occupant,” Hanky Panky had solemnly said, when they talked this over at the last crossroads, as they stopped a short time to confer upon their plan of campaign.

Their coming created quite a little furore in the village, for being off the main road to Paris the good people here had as yet not learned what wonderful success General Joffre was meeting with in his attempt to force the stubborn enemy back toward the Rhine country.

The boys were soon surrounded by a throng of women and children, with a smattering of very old men. Apparently there was not a single able-bodied man left in the place, every one having gone to join the colors and defend the capital.

Rod was kept busy telling some of the grand things that had happened miles away, where the roll of the great guns had been sounding so long, bringing terror to the faithful hearts of the good people. How they shouted and even embraced each other as they learned what measure of success was coming to their army. One and all they were now positive that their wonderful commander would never give up the pursuit until he actually dictated terms of peace before the walls of Berlin itself.

When Rod modestly mentioned the fact that he and his two chums were hungry they immediately received a dozen offers of accommodation and supper. Every house in the village belonged to them, and they were at liberty to ask for anything they wanted.

Rod, however, used a little discretion. He did not in the first place want to be separated from his chums, and this meant they must choose some house capable of entertaining them all.

In the end he selected for their hostess a middle-aged woman who looked prosperous and capable of attending to their wants without robbing herself. The three motorcycles were stacked in the yard close by, where they continued to attract the attention of every boy, big or small, in the village.

Rod was not in the least afraid to leave them. He knew full well that there was not any chance of the machines being tampered with; for those French boys seemed well behaved. He wondered what would happen over at his home town of Garland, where such fellows as Oscar Griffin, Gid Collins and their like loved to play all manner of tricks and practical jokes, regardless of other people’s feelings.

Comfortably seated inside the house Rod and his chums awaited the call to supper. They could get tantalizing whiffs of the food that was being prepared for their consumption as the odors crept in from the kitchen; and Josh several times privately declared he did not see how he was going to stand that sort of thing much longer, for it was making him fairly frantic, he was so ravenous.

Rod was figuring on where the three motorcycles should be placed for the night, and had already made up his mind to ask if they could be brought into the house; because while the good people of the village might all be as honest as the day, stragglers from the army were apt to come along who might feel like helping themselves to a “good thing” when they found it so convenient.

It was just at this moment, when they were expecting to be called into the dining-room to sit down at the bountiful feast provided, that, without the least warning, a bombshell seemed to drop among them. Shouts were heard without, and as the three boys sprang to their feet they looked at each other in sudden anxiety.

“What are they yelling about, Rod?” begged Hanky Panky.

“They say the Uhlans are coming down on us, and are already close to the place!” was the startling declaration of the one who understood French.

“Such tough luck, and just when supper was going to be called, too!” groaned Josh, though possibly he did not mean to be at all humorous, but was only expressing the first natural feeling of bitter disappointment that beset him.

Rod realized that it was a time for quick thinking, and rapid action as well. No matter if the raiding Uhlans proved to be only a small detachment bent on striking terror to the hearts of the French, while their main army was still retreating toward the Aisne, they would be in numbers sufficient to awe the village, where only women and boys and aged men were to be found.

He also knew that the three fine motorcycles owned by himself and chums would be either confiscated or destroyed by the German cavalrymen. Uhlans have always been accredited with bold and reckless deeds whenever engaged in warfare in the enemy’s country. They would find incriminating papers, too, upon the boys, and might even take it in their hands to treat them as spies.

“Get busy, fellows; we must fetch our machines indoors and close shop to keep the enemy out, if we can!” was what Rod called, as he hastened to run from the room.

Just then a bell tinkled somewhere near by, apparently to summon them to the supper table; but much to the deep regret of Josh they were hardly in a condition to respond to the alluring call.

Each of them came staggering in, trundling a heavy machine. These they stacked in a room, after which the outer door was shut and secured in the best way possible, though not before a number of people had crowded in with them.

Out on the village street the greatest excitement prevailed. Children cried, women called to one another as they hurried their innocent charges homeward; even the stray dogs started barking again, just as they had done when Rod and his friends hit the place with their buzzing motorcycles.

Above other sounds they could hear loud and heavy voices, as of men bent on terrorizing the peaceful little community. Of course the words they heard were German ones, showing that the speakers must indeed be the dreaded Uhlans.

They were undoubtedly galloping hither and thither, ransacking houses in search of food or anything else worth carrying off. It might be that presently some of them would even be found putting the torch to any building that failed to meet with their approval, after a hasty search.

Rod suddenly remembered something just then. It struck him forcibly, and the more he considered it the stronger did it seem to appeal to him.

He recollected that they had come upon a regiment of French zouaves making a temporary bivouac alongside the road about two miles back. If only they could be communicated with and informed of the presence of the hated Uhlans in the little French village, he felt positive they would not let the grass grow under their feet in hastening to the rescue of the small terrorized community.

But how could it be done? Rod would have given considerable for a chance to use his speedy motorcycle in this work, but there was no use thinking of such a thing, because it could never be carried out.

Perhaps from the roof of the house he might manage to attract the attention of some sentry at the camp, and by means of the Signal Corps code, which he knew very well, communicate their sad condition to the commander of the troops, and thus procure help for the frightened villagers.

“Stay here, and try to keep them out if they make an effort to break in,” he told Josh. “I’m going up to the roof and see if I can send a signal for help to that zouave regiment we noticed camping by the roadside. Here, take this, Josh, and remember that you’re defending women and children when you use it.”

“Bully for you!” cried Josh, as his hand closed upon the revolver which had been taken from the fraudulent Oscar William Tell.

Rod hurried away, and ran upon the woman of the house close by. She was looking greatly alarmed at the sudden coming of the enemy, but for all that Rod believed she would prove true grit.

“I want to get up on the roof if it’s possible,” was what he said to her; “there is a regiment of French troops camped not two miles away on the side of the hill, and if I could get in touch with them they’d come to our help. Show me the way to the trapdoor, if there is one.”

She must have grasped his idea without trouble, for she immediately started up the stairs. The confusion outside was growing worse than ever, and served to spur the boy on to renewed exertions.

The good woman of the house was soon pointing at the trap, and Rod quickly had it open. As he clambered out on the roof he saw to his satisfaction that it was situated on the side away from the village street. In this fashion he believed he might be able to accomplish what he had determined to attempt, at least without being interrupted by any passing Uhlan lancers.

One look in the direction of the hillside gave him cause for further delight, since he found that he could easily see the camp of the tired zouaves, who had marched many miles since sun-up in hopes of participating in the day’s battle, only to arrive when the action was all over.

Rod immediately began to wave his handkerchief wildly, though carrying out a certain program, and hoping to thus attract the attention of some sentry who may have been posted on that side of the camp.

Almost immediately he realized that this was just what had been accomplished, for he saw men running, and then a signal flag was waved in reply to his frantic appeals.

“What do you want to communicate?” was what he made out to be fashioned through the regular wigwag work of the flag.

“Village at mercy of Uhlans–come and help us at once!”

That was the message which Rod sent waving back. How glad he was at that minute he had picked up his knowledge of Signal Corps work, and could both send and receive so accurately.

That the man in the zouave camp had grasped the meaning of his dispatch Rod quickly understood, for almost immediately there was waved back an answer calculated to reassure him:

“Hold on! Relief coming! O. K.”

All this of course took a little time in transmission. Seconds had passed into minutes, and about the time he was through Rod realized that things were getting pretty warm close by. In fact some of the raiders had discovered that the most pretentious house in the entire little village was barred against them. They had leaned from their saddles and pounded heavily on the door. When no one opened up they had given vent to their anger and even threatened to smash their way in, doubtless promising all sorts of terrible things for the inmates if forced to go to this trouble.

Still there had been no response. Josh, who was in charge below, did not mean to risk the loss of the precious motorcycles, as well as take chances of being shot as a spy, just because those lordly Uhlan cavalrymen demanded that he unbar the heavy door and let them enter.

The threatening voices, accompanied by louder blows, continued to sound as Rod hastened downstairs again. He realized that they must do everything possible to keep those rough raiders out until the French zouaves had a chance to arrive on the field.

There were several old men among those who, in the first excitement, had sought refuge in the house that temporarily sheltered the young Americans whom the simple French peasants and villagers considered real heroes. Although far from sturdy in build, and with trembling, half-palsied hands, these old chaps had proceeded to arm themselves as best they could.

One had found a big carving knife which he brandished as though it were a sword, and he a captain leading a charge; a second was swinging a cudgel, as though filled with a hope that it might yet be laid up against a German head; while the last of the trio had taken down a gun of the vintage of ’71, which, together with its glistening sabre bayonet, had hung on the wall in memory of the good man of the house, who doubtless made the right kind of use of it in other days.

Altogether they presented quite a curious collection as they gathered there by the door, and waited to see if the enemy would carry out those loud threats to break in. Rod was reminded of accounts he had read about the patchwork army gathered together by one Falstaff in early English days, which consisted of the lame, the halt and the blind. All the same, those old fellows had the right sort of spirit, and acted as though quite willing to yield up their own lives in defense of the village.

Things were going from bad to worse outside. Smoke could easily be detected now, as if to prove that those awful threats made by the Uhlans were not idle ones; and that some cottage was already in flames.

Rod was almost counting the seconds. He found himself wondering whether the oncoming zouaves could possibly reach there before the door was broken from its hinges and the wolves without rush in to use their heavy sabres against the defenders. How long could they hold the aggressors in check? Those weak old men would be swept aside as though they were pigmies; and what could he and his two chums do against half a dozen big cavalrymen, bent on pillage?

The very first thing Rod did do was to possess himself once more of that revolver. He believed he could make better and more judicious use of such a dangerous weapon than Josh might–Josh was so rash and headstrong, once he found himself up against a dangerous situation.

The door, being very heavy, was resisting the attack of the soldiers successfully, though Rod did not plume himself on this account. He feared there were many other ways by means of which the Uhlans could accomplish their purpose and enter the house did they care to bother about looking.

Just then there arose a new cause for alarm. The good woman came crying from the other part of the building. Rod heard what she said and was able to understand, although the other two were left in the dark.

“What’s happened next, Rod?” demanded Josh, with the air of a veteran; for Josh often affected to liken himself to those old worthies who, when sorely beset, never asked about the number of their foes, but where they could be found, so that they might attack them hip and thigh.

“She says they’ve set fire to the house, and that the whole rear of the same is already blazing fiercely,” Rod explained.

Hanky Panky’s face was a study. Of course it was not really fear that gripped him so fiercely; but nevertheless the boy had a peaked look about the eyes, and watched Rod eagerly, as though hoping the other would eventually find some way of extricating them from this new predicament.

“Now here’s a pretty kettle of fish,” growled Josh; “house afire, and we can’t even rush out to throw water on the flames, just because there’s a lot of cowardly skunks waiting to spit us like we were fowls. Whee! what’re we going to do about it, Rod, tell me? I’ll sally out and try to create a diversion, if you say the word.”

Perhaps Josh honestly meant it, but Rod only laughed at him.

“Don’t be silly, Josh,” was what the other said; “you’d have about as much chance against those half-dozen Uhlans as a baby might. All we can do is to hold tight, and hope the zouaves will get along before it’s too late. But if they do try to smash their way in we’re going to fight; hear that?”

“You just bet we are; every time,” said Josh, who had found a heavy poker and was swinging it around in a way that made poor Hanky Panky duck every time it barely missed his devoted head.

He had hardly finished saying those few expressive words than there was an awful crash, and the front door, struck by some sort of battering ram, seemed to be partly knocked from its hinges. The Uhlans were apparently determined to enter; and the more opposition they met the greater their desire seemed to become.