The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line; Or, With the Allies in France
by Ralph Marlow · English · Gutenberg #30969 · 329,536 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line; Or, With the Allies in France
Author: Ralph Marlow
Release date: January 15, 2010 [eBook #30969]
Language: English
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THE BIG FIVE MOTORCYCLE BOYS ON THE BATTLE LINE
Or
With the Allies in France
by
RALPH MARLOW
Author of
"The Big Five Motorcycle Boys Under Fire," "The Big Five Motorcycle
Boys at the Front," "The Big Five Motorcycle Boys' Swift Road Chase,"
"The Big Five Motorcycle Boys in Tennessee Wilds," "The Big Five
Motorcycle Boys Through by Wireless," "The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on
Florida Trails."
A. L. Burt Company
New York.
Copyright, 1916
By A. L. Burt Company
THE BIG FIVE MOTORCYCLE BOYS ON THE BATTLE LINE
[Illustration: THERE WAS A SUDDEN SPITEFUL CRACK FROM THE REAR, AND
JOSH DUCKED HIS HEAD INVOLUNTARILY. The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on
the Battle Line. Page 35.]
THE BIG FIVE MOTORCYCLE BOYS ON THE BATTLE LINE.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE STREETS OF ANTWERP.
"Good-bye, Elmer, and you, too, Rooster!"
"It's too bad we have to hurry home, and break up the Big Five
Motorcycle Boys' combination, just when we've been having such royal
good times over in the country of the Great War!"
"But there was nothing else to do, Elmer, when you got that cable
message telling you to take the first steamer home, as your mother was
about to undergo an operation, and wanted to see you first."
"And Rooster here chose to go along with you, because he's got such a
tender chicken heart he just hates to see all the misery and suffering
these poor Belgians are enduring."
"There's the last call to go ashore. Come along, Josh, and you too,
Hanky Panky. Boys, to be honest with you I more than half wish I was
going along. Home would look mighty fine to me just now."
"Oh! shucks! you'll soon get over that feeling, Rod," said the lanky boy
called Josh, taking the alarm at once, for he seemed perfectly contented
to stay where he was; "just wait till we're spinning along on our bully
machines down through Ostend, Dunkirk, and Calais to Boulogne, where we
may take a steamer to the U. S. if we can find berths."
"Be sure to keep a regular daily log of your happenings, Josh, so we can
look it over when you get back home," begged the boy who went by the
strange nick-name of "Rooster," doubtless because he crowed so much over
his accomplishments.
"Good-bye, and good luck!" called out Elmer, waving his hand again.
"Remember us to everybody in Garland, particularly all the pretty
girls!" shouted Hanky Panky, after the last exchange of handshakes, when
with his two chums, Rod and Josh, he hurried down the gang-plank to the
dock.
The steamer for London was leaving its Antwerp pier, and all seemed
excitement. Many people were already fleeing madly from Belgium, now
partly overrun by the vast invading army of the German Kaiser. At any
day Antwerp was likely to be bombarded by the tremendous forty-two
centimetre guns that had reduced the steel-domed forts at Liege and
Namur, and allowed the conquering hosts entrance to Brussels.
While the trio on the dock continued to frantically return the salutes
of their two chums as long as they could distinguish their figures on
the hurricane deck of the staunch steamer bound down the Scheldt, a few
brief explanations might not come in amiss. Possibly some of those who
start to read this book may not have had the pleasure of meeting Rod and
his four friends in previous volumes of this series.
The boys who wore the khaki lived in the enterprising town of Garland
across the water in the States. How they came by the fine motorcycles
they owned would be too long a story to narrate here, and those who are
curious about the circumstances must be referred to earlier stories for
the details.
They called their organization the Big Five because they planned to
carry out numerous enterprises that might have daunted less courageous
spirits. Rod Bradley was really the leader, though Elmer Overton, the
Southern boy, often proved himself a good second.
Then there were Henry Jucklin, known to all his mates as "Hanky Panky"
because of his skill as a magician; Josh Whitcomb, with a bit of the
Yankee in his composition; and Christopher Boggs, otherwise "Rooster."
They had covered many thousands of miles with those wonderful steel
steeds, and met with some surprising adventures up to the time when an
opportunity arose allowing them to go abroad. A wealthy old gentleman of
their town, who knew their calibre well, had given them an important
errand to carry out, and stood responsible for their expenses to the
other side of the Atlantic.
Coming leisurely down the Rhine country they had been suddenly caught by
the war tide; and as it was in Antwerp that Rod expected to meet the
party he sought they had to strike out boldly for that far-distant city.
Strange happenings had marked their course through the war-stricken
country of Belgium. Indeed, several times it looked very much as though
they would never attain their goal, but might be sent back as prisoners
of war to Germany.
Of course, their sympathies were mainly with the Allies, and
particularly after they had seen with their own eyes how the poor
Belgians, fighting heroically to defend their native land, were being
cowed by the seemingly limitless legions of the Kaiser.
But in the end they reached Antwerp, and had about decided to make a run
down the coast to Boulogne, where they might take a steamer home, when
that fatal cable message upset their plans.
Elmer and Rooster would not hear of the others accompanying them home.
Josh, too, was really wild to see more of the great war. So finally Rod,
finding that Hanky Panky seemed of the same mind, consented to stay over
for a week or two longer.
Now that their two chums had left them the boys wandered about the city
on the Scheldt and tried to amuse themselves as best they could. But
they soon found that ordinary sights no longer availed to satisfy them.
"You see, the war fills the air wherever you go," explained Josh, to
account for this seeming lack of interest. "What does anybody want to go
snooping into things that had to do with battles of centuries ago, when
the biggest war the world ever knew is raging right now through Northern
France and Belgium?"
"Yes, with Great Britain dragged in, and perhaps Italy and other
countries to follow, not even excepting our own land," added Rod,
seriously.
"Why," spoke up Hanky Panky, excitedly, "everywhere you look you see
signs of the war game right here in Antwerp. Soldiers are marching
through the streets to the cheers of the people. Artillery is dashing
this way and that. Armored cars can be seen starting out to harry the
enemy with their Maxims. And hardly an hour of the day but half a dozen
British or Belgian aeroplanes soar above us, doing all kinds of stunts
calculated to make your hair stand on end."
"It's the greatest thing that ever happened, barring none," declared the
delighted Josh, looking as though he could almost hug himself, such was
his joy; "and let me tell you we're the lucky boys to be on the spot
when history is being made so fast."
"The party I'm to see for Mr. Amos Tucker," remarked Rod, "will be in
the city to-night. I'll get that out of my system; and once I send the
documents by registered post I'm free for anything that crops up."
"Hurrah! then we'll have a chance to climb aboard our wheels again, and
strike out for France!" said Josh. "Here's hoping we may run across a
corner of the big fight that's taking place north of Paris. I'd be a
happy fellow if I could actually see those brave Frenchmen, backed up by
the British troops, meet the boastful Germans who believe they can clean
up the whole world."
Rod shrugged his shoulders, and made a wry face.
"We've already seen something of a battle from a distance, you remember,
Josh," he told the other, "and all of us decided that it was simply
_terrible_. For my part, while I'd like to see the French in action
I'm not going out of my way to take chances. The way they fill the air
with deadly missiles from quick-firers and with bursting shrapnel gives
you a cold feeling."
"Rod," said Hanky Panky, who somehow had not been taking part in this
talk, "do turn and watch that poor little woman over there. She's in a
peck of trouble, I reckon, by the way she acts, first looking at a paper
she's been reading, and then wiping her eyes with her apron."
"You mean the one with the dog team, and the tall, brass-mounted milk
cans, don't you, Hanky Panky?" asked Josh quickly. "I saw her a while
ago, and heard her speak to the little child in wooden sabots that is
tagging at her heels. It was pure French she used, and I'd wager a
cookey she isn't a Belgian at all. There are lots of people from
northern France in Antwerp, you know."
"Well, she's having a hard time of it, some way or other," added Hanky
Panky. "You can see her hug and kiss the little girl, and then read her
letter again. Now she looks around as if wondering where she can find a
friend. Say, Rod, you can speak French right well; what's to hinder our
finding out what the matter is? Everybody in Antwerp is too excited
about the war to bother over a little thing like a poor French woman's
troubles."
Thus appealed to Rod laughed good-naturedly, and then led the way
straight toward the spot where the owner of the dog team stood.
Evidently she was on her rounds delivering fresh milk, when overtaken by
bad news.
When Rod addressed her in her native tongue she looked up appealingly.
Evidently she must have liked the appearance of the three frank-looking
American boys, for she quickly commenced to talk volubly, all the while
shrugging her shoulders, and emphasizing her words with gestures and
face expressions.
The other boys could see that she was comparatively young, and not bad
looking. As for the child, they were greatly smitten with her pink
cheeks and big black eyes, as well as the coy glances the little thing
gave them.
Presently Rod was seen to be reading a letter she handed him, and which
she may have taken from the mail while on her milk route. Again Rod
conversed with her, greatly to the mystification of his comrades, who
thought he would never stop.
Finally Rod turned toward them.
"For goodness' sake tell us what it all means, Rod!" urged Hanky Panky.
"Yes; has her landlord threatened to turn her out unless she can pay the
rent, and ought we put up our spare cash to help settle the bill?"
demanded Josh.
"Oh! it's a thousand times more serious than that," said Rod, which
remark, of course, aroused the curiosity of his chums more than ever.
"Get some speed on then, Rod, and give us the gist of the business,"
said Hanky Panky appealingly; "of course there's a heap of trouble in
the old city just now, but when a case pokes right out in front of you
it's hard to pass by. If we could help the little French woman and her
pretty child, why, we ought to wake up and do something."
"Wait till you hear how the thing stands before you get so rash," warned
Rod, who knew only too well the hasty ways of his two chums. "This
little woman's name is Jeanne D'Aubrey. Her husband is a French
reservist named Andre. He was called to the colors as soon as the war
broke out, leaving her here in Antwerp with her little daughter, and a
living to make from her few cows."
"But what was the paper you read, Rod?" asked impatient Josh.
"I'm coming to that," the other told him; "it is a very important letter
she has just received from a law firm in Paris, informing herself and
husband that an old uncle, Jasper, has died some time since, leaving his
estate to Andre on condition that he sign a certain document within a
given time. It now lacks just three weeks of the limit, and unless his
signature is properly placed there, and witnessed by three reliable
people, the property will go to another nephew, one Jules Baggott by
name, who has long hoped to inherit it."
"Great Scott! that is tough, I should say!" ejaculated Josh.
"And her husband away at the French war front, perhaps shot long before
now in the bargain," muttered Hanky Panky soberly; "because we've heard
that there's been bloody fighting all along the line between the French
border and in front of Paris, where General Von Kluck's German army is
already pressing."
"You can't wonder then that the poor little woman is overcome with the
terrible trouble that has fallen on her," explained Rod. "Once that
document is properly signed and she would be fixed for life, no matter
what happened to her soldier husband. But she hardly knows what to do.
It is utterly out of the question for her to try and find him; and she
doesn't know any person reliable enough in Antwerp to trust them with
the precious papers. You see, this other cousin, Jules, is here in town,
for she has even had him call upon her lately; and she now believes he
knows of his uncle's will, so that he might try to keep the messenger
from ever meeting Andre!"
Rod paused just there. Perhaps he knew his auditors so well that he
really anticipated what the effect would be upon both Josh and Hanky
Panky. The pair looked at the French woman, who was observing them with
such an eager, hungry expression on her face. She wrung her hands
piteously just then, as though she saw the one chance to gain a little
fortune for herself and child slipping away for lack of a brave champion
who would undertake the task of finding her Andre.
That was the finishing stroke. Josh had been hesitating, wondering
whether he ought to make a suggestion that, springing from his generous
heart, was already trembling on his lips.
"Rod!" he exclaimed, with boyish animation.
"Yes, what is it, Josh?" asked the other, encouragingly, for just then
the child had shot him a roguish, pathetic glance that went straight to
his heart.
"Why, I was going to say we've managed to carry out a lot of things
before now that looked as hopeless as searching for a needle in a
haystack. Rod, we might stand a chance of finding this same Andre, if
you thought it was up to us to deliver the goods!"
Hanky Panky uttered a snort as he expressed his opinion.
"I move we undertake the mission," he remarked eagerly; "I'd never sleep
decent again if we left this poor little woman in the lurch after she'd
told us her story. Rod, shut your eyes and make it unanimous! The
Motorcycle Boys in the saddle again!"
CHAPTER II.
A CHANGE OF PLANS.
Rod's hesitation was of brief duration. He saw that both his comrades
were fairly wild to go. Josh in particular seemed to look upon this
chance to see some more of the fighting taking place between the hostile
armies as arranged especially to suit his fancy.
"All right, then," said Rod finally, "let's see what's to be done. If
she can put certain facts in our possession, so that we'd stand a chance
of finding Andre in the army of General Joffre, we might undertake the
task. It'd be hard to refuse, with that little darling of a girl in such
great need."
"Bully for you, Rod!" exclaimed Josh; "I knew you'd come to time right
handsomely. We'll likely see something of the fierce battles that are
raging every day in northern France as the Germans drive the Allies back
mile after mile, aiming to take Paris, and end the war with a rush!"
Apparently Josh had been dreaming of something along these lines, and
the opportunity to gratify his ambition took him by storm.
Rod again turned to the French woman and started to converse with her
once more. How her face did light up when she learned that these brave
American boys had decided to lend her their aid, and try to find her
absent soldier husband among the legions of patriots defending the
beloved Paris.
Hanky Panky and Josh could understand very little of what was said, but
by watching the expressive face and motions of Jeanne they were able to
translate much of her explanations.
"She has told me where her humble home is," explained Rod finally, "and
this very night we will visit her to hear further particulars, and
receive the document which was enclosed in the letter from the French
law firm in Paris."
"And then?" asked Josh breathlessly.
"Perhaps to-morrow we can start away from here and head south, to cross
the border line, and enter France," he was told.
"But not to go as far as Boulogne, eh, Rod?" questioned Hanky Panky.
"No, for that would take us out of our way," the other continued. "After
we get to Calais we will have to strike direct for Paris; that is unless
we learn that one of the numerous German armies has cut across the road,
blocking our way. In that event we will have to shape our plans over
again. But there's no use crossing a bridge until you come to it, so
don't let's worry."
He once more spoke to the little woman, whose face was now beaming with
gratitude. She seized the boy's hand and actually kissed it before Rod
had a chance to snatch it away. The act made him flush with confusion,
especially since Josh was chuckling in his clumsy way. But one thing was
sure, Jeanne considered their crossing her path at the time she needed a
friend more than ever before in all her life as a most fortunate thing.
So the boys walked away.
"Just to think what a wonderful change has come about inside of half an
hour," remarked the delighted Josh. "We had it all arranged for a little
spin down the coast, and then embarking at Boulogne for America. Now
we're planning to strike out to that region where a million German
soldiers are striking hard blows at the lines of the Allies, and meaning
to capture Paris. Why, I'm tickled half to death at the idea of seeing
some more thrilling pictures of the Great World War."
Josh and Hanky Panky could talk of little else during the balance of
that day. Rod seemed very quiet, and it was evident that he foresaw they
would have dangerous work laid out for them, which might try their
boldness as few things had ever done before.
"Listen," he told the others at one time, when they were discussing the
possibilities of the future; "perhaps neither of you happened to notice
a man with a French look who stood by a stoop further along the narrow
street, and kept watching us all the time I was talking to the woman.
Since then it's struck me that perhaps he may have been the other cousin
she spoke of, Jules Baggott, and that he was guessing how the wind lay
when he saw me read the paper, and watched her kiss my hand."
"Whoop!" ejaculated the impulsive Josh immediately, "that would mean
trouble with a big T, wouldn't it, Rod?"
"If he concluded that we were going to find her husband, providing Andre
hadn't already been killed in the fighting," Rod went on to explain, "I
should imagine this Jules would go to some trouble to stop us, and get
the paper away. You can see what it would mean to him if we failed to
make connections."
Many times during the balance of that afternoon Josh and Hanky Panky
referred to the business which they were about to undertake. In fact it
seemed as though both boys enjoyed the idea of again drawing near the
fighting line, and witnessing some of the amazing events taking place
there in this modern war. History was being made every day, and the
thought of being actual witnesses of these grand undertakings thrilled
them as nothing else could have done.
Frequently either one or the other imagined they were being followed;
and a dozen times some innocent citizen was suspected of being the
skulking Jules. If the French cousin of Andre actually had them shadowed
it was done so skilfully that none of the boys were any the wiser.
After supper that night they sallied forth. Rod took extra precautions
to dodge the main exit of the hotel at which they were quartered; if a
spy waited there to keep tabs on their movements he meant the fellow
should have his trouble for nothing.
They found the home of the French woman. It was, of course, an humble
abode, but as neat as a pin. Rod again entered into a fervent
conversation, and from time to time stopped to explain to his chums what
the burden of the talk might be.
In the end Jeanne entrusted him with the precious paper, which, once
signed by her husband, with the names of competent witnesses also
inscribed according to law, would mean a competency for herself and
child the balance of their lives, whether Andre ever came home from the
war or not.
Rod was very cautious in making his way back to the hotel. He avoided
all dark streets, and warned his chums to keep a bright lookout for
skulking figures. Nothing out of the way happened, however, and they
reached their hotel in safety. For once Josh evinced little desire to
stop and watch some of the stirring scenes which were to be met with in
all the principal thoroughfares of Antwerp during those days and nights
when the shadow of the German mailed fist hung over the heads of the
dauntless Belgian nation.
Down at the hotel Rod found the gentleman waiting for him with whom Amos
Tucker, far away in America, had business connections of vast importance
which he had entrusted to Rod to carry through.
This was finally accomplished, and after Rod made sure that everything
had been completed in a satisfactory fashion, he entrusted the papers to
the mail to be carried duly to Mr. Tucker, guarded by registry and every
possible means against loss in transit.
"There; I feel as if I had a big load off my shoulders," said the boy as
he once more joined his two chums, who had spent the hour talking over
the immediate future, and what amazing things it might have in store for
them.
All of them were tired, for they had been up early that August day, and
every hour had been crammed with excitement. Accordingly it was decided
that they had better retire without further delay, and get what sleep
they could.
"There's no telling what sort of a bed we may have to-morrow night," Rod
warned the others; "so make the most of it while you have a soft
mattress under you. The ground is pretty hard, sometimes, you know,
because often we've tried it, and may have to again."
Both the others only laughed, as though they were so well pleased with
the opportunity crossing their path so unexpectedly that they could not
find any fault, no matter how things turned.
When another day dawned they busied themselves in getting breakfast,
settling their account, and then securing their motorcycles, which had
been well taken care of during their stay in Antwerp. Such valuable
wheels might have been commandeered by the authorities for use in the
army, only that Rod chanced to carry a few lines actually signed by King
Albert and which had been placed in his hands by the dauntless Belgian
monarch himself, which warned all concerned that nothing belonging to
the American boys was to be touched, as they had shown their friendship
for Belgium in numerous ways.
Rod was careful enough to make sure that all of them carried a plentiful
supply of the necessary petrol, for he realized how difficult it would
likely be to secure any of this liquid fuel, since every gallon was
being seized for the use of the multitude of lorries and cars employed
for transportation purposes by the armies in the field.
It was about nine in the morning when they were ready to start. The
early September day was a fair one, though promising more or less heat
before noon came and went. Rod led the way, and they soon left the big
bustling city on the Scheldt behind them. A splendid road invited an
increase of speed, and presently they were booming along right merrily.
How delightfully cheery did the rapid clatter of the exhausts sound to
their ears, after having been deprived of this familiar company for days
at a stretch, since abandoning their machines at the home of a woman
market gardener, who had later on brought them to the city, concealed
under a load of produce.
They kept as close together as safety allowed, with Rod as usual in the
lead. Well did the other two know they could always depend on him to
steer them aright. Rod carried a little map of the country with him.
Besides, he had studied it so thoroughly that in most cases he could
tell the lay of the land without consulting the chart.
"This is the life!" called Hanky Panky, who brought up the rear,
squatted in his saddle something after the manner of a huge toad; for
Hanky had a peculiar "style" of his own, entirely original, which he
claimed to have as many good points as a horse jockey's method of riding
on the neck of his mount.
"Pity our two poor chums who had to set out for home so early!" added
Josh, who was in a sense fairly hugging himself on account of the
wonderful possibilities for excitement looming up above the horizon just
then.
"Well, their machines went with them," said Rod over his shoulder, "and
they say 'where ignorance is bliss 'tis a folly to be wise.' Right now
they may be over in England, pitying us for being left behind in the
land of the Great War."
"This is a hunky-dory road, all right!" ventured Hanky Panky shortly
afterward. "Why, we seem to be gliding along as smoothly as if on a
parlor floor. We could go twice as fast, if we wanted to."
"No need of that," said Rod, hearing the remark, which was, however,
intended only for Josh; "we'll pass through Ostend and Dunkirk, reaching
Calais in short order. Then, like as not, we'll have to spend the rest
of the day there, and to-night in the bargain."
"Shucks! what's the use of all that, Rod?" demanded Josh, for he was
fairly wild to get near the firing line again, and witness more of those
wonderful sights that had thrilled him to the bone a short time back.
"We'll have to give an account of ourselves, most likely, and get
written permission to go into France," he was told.
"Say, fellows," called out Hanky Panky just then, "there's a car
whirling along right now in a cloud of dust, with two men aboard.
Wouldn't it be a joke on us if that was the Jules Baggott the woman
spoke of, and that he was chasing after us, bent on making us give up
the paper she entrusted to Rod here?"
CHAPTER III.
THE PURSUIT.
Of course when Hanky Panky made this astonishing statement both his
chums commenced to send anxious glances back along the road over which
they were spinning so grandly.
"What d'ye think of it, Rod?" demanded Josh quickly.
"They act as if they meant to overtake us, all right," the boy in the
van declared, without hesitation; "but I couldn't say for certain
whether one of them is the scheming Jules or not. You remember I only
_thought_ I had a glimpse of him at the time we talked with Jeanne
on the Antwerp street."
"Shall we let them come up, and have it out?" questioned Josh
belligerently, for Josh was something of a fighter in his way, and
always had a "chip on his shoulder."
"We are looking for no scrap, if it can be helped," said Rod; "so first
of all we can try letting out a little more speed."
"And if they follow suit, then what?" asked Hanky Panky, with a vein of
anxiety in his voice; for being in the rear he imagined he would
necessarily be the target for any stray leaden missiles that might come
that way.
"In the first place we'll feel pretty certain they're meaning to
overtake us," Rod called back, as he increased his pace considerably, an
easy thing to do, although he knew the danger of going at headlong speed
over an unknown road, where at any minute they might rush upon a
hay-wagon blocking the whole thoroughfare, and concealed by some bend.
"Well, they've let out another notch, all right!" called Hanky Panky,
from his position in the rear.
"And believe me that's some racer of a car they're running!" exploded
Josh; "why, it can give us a run for our money, try as we may to get
away."
Rod had already discovered this, though saying nothing as yet. He knew
that it was not safe to put Hanky Panky to a severe test, for the other
was apt to get a little rattled, and while going at a mad pace any sort
of accident was likely to be serious.
They continued to speed along at this merry clip for a brief time
longer. Then the rear guard reported that the pursuing car seemed to be
holding its own.
"Hadn't we ought to go faster, Rod?" he besought the leader; "I know
you're only holding in on account of me, but forget that, won't you?"
But Rod knew better than that. He was aware of his chum's failing, and
dared not risk too much. There had been times in the past when he
allowed the limit of speed to be taken, but always with serious
misgivings.
"Leave it to me, Hanky," he called out encouragingly; "I'll fix up a
game that will cook their goose for them."
"Sure you will, Rod," replied the other at the top of his voice, for the
trio of machines made considerable racket as they pushed along in close
formation.
Sometimes the dust raised by their passage completely hid the pursuing
red car; then a little puff of wind would waft it away, so that the
motorcycle boys could easily see the object of their concern.
Past humble homes of the Belgian peasants they rushed. Ducks and
chickens and dogs had to get out of the way in great style in order to
avoid being run over. This was one of the things Rod had in mind when
deciding not to increase their speed any further; a squawking hen has
been the cause of a "spill" with many an unlucky motorcyclist; and every
one has noticed how persistently "Biddy" will try to cross the road
despite the peril, if her home happens to be on the other side.
Rod no longer entertained any doubts concerning the identity of those
who occupied the red racing car. One of them he felt positive must be
Jules Baggott, the unscrupulous cousin of Andre, who would profit if the
soldier should never live to sign the papers which were mentioned in the
will of the dead uncle.
By this time Rod had his fighting blood up. Opposition always made him
the more determined to accomplish his ends, when his heart was back of
the undertaking.
His active mind quickly grasped the situation, and a cleverly arranged
plan was formed that gave promise of success.
"Josh, can you hear me?" he called out, not daring to look back now
because at the time they were negotiating several sharp turns, and his
attention was required at the front.
"Easy thing!" sang out the one just behind him.
"How about you, Hanky?" continued the leader.
"I get you O. K., Rod; let her go!" came the reply in a roar.
"If we can only coax them to leave their car for a short time,"
explained Rod, "Josh might disable it in some way, so the pursuit would
come to an end!"
"A bully scheme, Rod, and don't you forget that you said Josh was going
to be Johnny on the spot!" the party in question bellowed exultantly.
"There's a big house ahead of us," continued Rod, "for I've had several
glimpses of the same, and we'll strike it shortly. I don't know why I
think we'll find it deserted, but it has that look to me. One end seems
to have been burned out. Well, that might be the place we're looking
for, to give our pursuers the slip."
"Oh! I see the house right now," barked Josh; "and sure enough it's just
as you said, with part of the roof gone."
"It sets near the road, so we can rush around it," called out the
leader. "Josh will go on ahead now and hide his machine among the trees
near the road. Hanky, you keep with me. Perhaps we'll enter the house,
and pass out the back way, to speed on again. Josh, you hurry back so
when the men leave their car to see if you're inside the house you can
get busy. Understand?"
Both of the others called out that it was perfectly clear to them. The
abandoned mansion was now close at hand. Rod believed they must be
drawing near the outskirts of Ostend, the Belgian watering place, which
could not lie many miles beyond.
It required a clever mind to arrange all the little details of such a
plan of campaign in a hurry. The fact that Rod was able to do so stamped
him the right kind of a leader. Still, neither of his companions thought
it strange, because they had known him to do numerous similar things in
times gone by.
Josh managed to get ahead, and would thus have a brief time to hide his
machine alongside the road so as to steal back towards the house before
the car arrived, for it was still some little distance away.
When the men in it saw only two boys riding off they would naturally
suspect that some accident had happened to the machine of the third
fellow, who possibly had taken up temporary quarters in the old house.
This was just what Rod wanted them to think; it would allow Josh the
chance he needed to disable the car in some way or other.
Things moved along swiftly. Rod and Hanky Panky dashed up to the front
of the house and stopped. Doubtless the oncoming pursuers would miss the
clattering of the exhausts, and understand that they had halted for some
purpose or other.
"They've slowed down some themselves, Rod!" cried Hanky Panky, as he
stood "at attention," ready to jump on his machine the instant Rod gave
the word, so as to continue the mad flight.
The red car had come around the last bend, and was now in plain sight.
For a distance of at least two miles the road ran as straight as a yard
stick; so that the men could readily see that the third motorcycle lad
was not in sight ahead.
"All right; it's time we were off!" cried Rod presently.
The car had covered half the distance between the bend and the deserted
house, and they could plainly see the man sitting alongside the
chauffeur leaning forward, as though eagerly scrutinizing them. Rod
imagined he was a little taken aback by their halting, and was trying to
puzzle it out.
Suddenly the popping of the exhausts announced that the two motorcycles
were once more in action. Both boys sprang into the saddle and away they
went down the dusty road. As they were in plain sight the men could
readily see that one of the trio was missing. And it would be most
natural to imagine that something had happened to his machine, so that
he must have taken temporary refuge in the abandoned house, while his
comrades continued their flight.
What then?
Would the man they believed to be the plotting Jules stop, and with his
assistant rush into the house to look for the missing boy? Much depended
on his actions, for if the chauffeur remained with the car, Josh, lying
in wait near by, might be utterly unable to accomplish the design he had
in view.
Rod had high hopes. He could figure that Jules would want to make sure
the third American boy did not have the paper on his person, before
speeding after the two whom he could see going leisurely down the road,
as if inviting pursuit.
As their pace was now less swift Rod was able to turn again and again
and look backward. Hanky Panky was doing the same, though his machine
did wabble more or less, and he had to be exceedingly careful not to
land in the ditch alongside the fine road.
It was a moment of considerable suspense to both boys. They saw the car
approach the house, and noted with more or less interest that its pace
was lessening. That began to look as though the bait had taken, and
Jules meant to make sure of the "bird in the hand," before trying for
those in the bush.
"Rod, they're stopping, as sure as you live!" yelled Hanky Panky in
great excitement just then.
"Yes, and there they both jump out; steady, Hanky, don't lose your
head!" warned the leader, noticing how the other's machine wavered.
CHAPTER IV.
JOSH DOES HIS LITTLE TRICK.
Meanwhile Josh had carried out the preliminary part of his share in the
plot to the best of his ability. Rushing ahead of his chums he had
succeeded in concealing his motorcycle amidst the bushes skirting the
road, just a little distance beyond the house.
His heart was beating like a triphammer as he turned, once this had been
done, to discover whether the men in the pursuing car had come in sight
so as to notice what he was doing.
"Everything is lovely, and the goose hangs high!" Josh muttered in
apparent glee, when he found that this was not the case.
His two chums had by this time halted at the door of the house, and it
even looked as though they might be saying something to some one inside.
Of course Josh understood that this was part of the plan intended to
deceive the men.
He was already making his way back toward the house, bending low so that
no one might see his shoulders above the bushes, which grew in profusion
just there, as if on purpose to further his designs.
Then came the rapid pulsations of the engines, as Rod and Hanky Panky
got going again. The car must be in sight, coming swinging along, with
both men keenly observant of all that was taking place.
Still Josh continued to creep forward. He wished to be as close to the
building as possible when the car stopped, as he felt sure would be the
case. Probably the men would not linger long, once they had rushed
inside and taken a look around. Not finding him there they would be
likely to "tumble to the game," as Josh put it, and hasten outside again
in order to avoid any backset to their pursuit of the shrewd American
motorcycle boys.
When the car did stop Josh was only a dozen paces away. The friendly
bushes allowed him to lie there unseen, while at the same time he could
catch glimpses of those in whom he had such great interest.
"Shucks! I do believe the chauffeur is meaning to stick by the car," he
whispered to himself indignantly, only to hastily add in a gratified
way: "No he isn't either, for there he jumps out after Jules, who is
already bolting inside. Now's my chance, if ever I expect to get one!
Here goes, then!"
With the last words Josh was hurrying through the bushes as fast as he
could make time. Of course his pulses were thrilled with the sense of
responsibility that rested upon his shoulders. Would one of the men come
out unexpectedly, and catch him busy with the car? Josh hoped not; at
the same time he had his mind made up just what he meant to do under
such conditions.
If either or both of his chums happened to be looking back just then
they must have seen him there, for he had by now attained his goal, and
was alongside the red racer.
Josh flitted from one side of the car to the other. He seemed to be
working with all the vim of which he was capable, and every time he made
a movement it was accompanied by a strange sighing sound, as though some
restrained captive hailed freedom in a joyous fashion.
After all Josh was not detained there more than a couple of minutes,
though it may have seemed much longer to the anxious lad, for his heart
beat so tumultuously that it really threatened to smother him.
He could constantly hear the men inside the house moving hastily about,
and calling to one another in French. Evidently they were wondering
where the missing boy as well as his machine could be hidden. They might
at any instant begin to suspect that a clever trick had been played upon
them, and come rushing forth to protect their own car, upon which the
continuance of the pursuit depended wholly.
At last Josh seemed to have finished his work, whatever it may have
been, for he turned away from the car and started to run. He took to the
road, meaning to reach the spot where his motorcycle lay hidden in the
bushes. Given just enough time to arrive and lay hands on the precious
machine Josh felt sure he could laugh at any effort on the part of the
men to overtake him.
Just as he came close to the hiding place of the wheel he heard a loud
shout from the rear. This announced that his presence had been
discovered by one or both of the Frenchmen. Of course their first
thought would be to leap into the car and try to speed after him. Josh
chuckled with fiendish glee as he contemplated their disgust when they
found that no matter how hard they tried they could not coax the red
racer to make the first move.
He could hear them roaring as he dragged his machine out on the road.
One look back was sufficient to show him how matters stood. Both men
were tumbling out of the stalled car, wild to make a hasty examination
in order to discover why it would not move an inch, though the engine
was throbbing away tumultuously all the while, just as they had left it.
"The crack I gave that self-starter rod bent it, and placed it out of
commission, all right," Josh exclaimed, as he drew his machine to the
middle of the road, and deliberately prepared to follow after his chums;
"but that was only a beginning; the worst is yet to come when they look
around."
Louder came the angry shouts from the direction of the house. The men
must have learned the full nature of their troubles. Josh saw them
starting toward him as if under the impression that he would be silly
enough to await their coming.
"Not for Joseph; not if he knows it!" he called out, as he turned on the
current, and immediately commenced to spin along the roadway.
There was a sudden spiteful crack from the rear, and Josh ducked his
head involuntarily as he heard some object whistle past close to his
ears.
"Wow! they're trying to wing me, for a fact!" he whooped, at the same
time bending low in his saddle, so as to present as little body surface
as possible to the aim of the one who was doing the firing.
Several more shots rang out, sounding like the popping of champagne
corks. Doubtless the marksman, no other than Jules himself, was more or
less excited, and although he might be a clever shot under ordinary
conditions, just then he failed to accomplish anything.
So Josh rolled away, waving his hand derisively when he felt that he was
safe beyond pistol shot. The boy was trembling all over, though
hilarious concerning the wonderful success of the little plan which Rod
had conceived, and left to him to carry out.
"You've got to have your eye-teeth cut when you run afoul of the Big
Five Motorcycle Boys, and don't forget that!" he shouted over his
shoulder, as he sped along; although of course the outwitted pursuers
could hardly have caught the words, and even if they did might not
understand their import.
Rod and Hanky Panky had halted half a mile further on, watching to see
what happened. It might be they meant to turn back, and come to the
assistance of their comrade, should Fate play a scurvy trick on Josh, so
that he fell into the hands of the enemy.
When they saw him mounting and caught the familiar music of his engine's
exhaust, the muffler being open, both Rod and Hanky Panky felt like
giving shouts of exultation, for they had already discovered that the
two men were having some difficulty with their car, after Josh had
"fiddled" with the same.
Then came the shots, and of course they felt a new anxiety lest Josh be
brought to grief through this means.
"Look at him leaning low over his handlebars, will you?" cried Hanky
Panky, lost in admiration over the smart way Josh was accomplishing the
trick, which perhaps he had seen riders in the Wild West Show do when
pursued by Indians of the plains.
"It's all right, and Josh has saved the day for us!" exclaimed Rod,
beaming with gratification. "Jules will begin to wonder what sort of
boys they raise over in the States, when he finds out what happened."
"But what did Josh do to the car, Rod?"
"You'll have to ask him," replied the other, "though I suspect he put
the starting gear out of commission to begin with. Here he is, and
grinning at a great rate."
The third rider slowed up as he approached the spot where they awaited
him. No danger of the two men starting their car, and swooping down on
the allies; if they commenced to run on foot toward Rod and his chums it
was only necessary to leap into their saddles and be off like the wind.
"It worked like fresh grease, Rod!" panted Josh, as he threw himself
down from his seat, and held one hand to his aching side, for that
boisterous laughter was weakening him more or less; "oh! they fell into
your little trap like innocents. It was like taking candy from the baby
to work them like I did."
"There they are, shaking their fists at us right now!" burst out Hanky
Panky, as he pointed along the road toward the deserted house.
"It's about all they can do; when you come to think of it!" grinned
Josh.
"We were getting cold feet when we heard them shooting, old fellow; and
I hope none of the lead so much as touched you! I saw the dust fly up
after nearly every shot, it seemed to me."
"I rather think the fellow meant to hit my wheel and disable it,"
explained the latest arrival; "but it isn't so easy to do a thing like
that, when a motorcycle is speeding along at the rate of a mile a
minute. No matter what he aimed to do he missed his guess, and I gave
him the slip."
"Rod here says you must have jammed his self-starter so it wouldn't work
when he tried it; how about that, Josh?" asked Hanky Panky, who never
would be satisfied until he had learned all the particulars.
"You just bet that was what I did the first thing," the other told him
exultantly; "but I had another card up my sleeve, too. You see they
might hammer that back into shape again, and get a move on; but I fixed
it so they'll not chase after us to-day."
"What did you do, then?" demanded Hanky Panky.
"I had my big knife all ready," said Josh grimly, "and I used it with
all my might and main."
"On the tires, do you mean, Josh?"
"Every one of them is sliced and slashed the worst way you ever saw,"
replied the other. "I never was guilty of doing such a mean thing before
in all my life; but it was absolutely necessary if we meant to shut off
pursuit. You ought to have heard the air sizzling out after I jammed
that big blade through, and ripped it along! Whee! it was mighty
exciting, because I half expected to see one of the men come rushing out
any old second, and chase after me down the road. But I was lucky, and
nothing like that happened."
Hanky Panky looked his deep admiration. He often wished Nature had made
him as smart as Josh, with that underlying streak of Yankee blood in his
veins. Hanky was willing to try to accomplish anything that came his
way; but being a bit clumsy in his actions there was always a chance
that he would bungle his job, and fail to attain the expected results.
He slapped the late actor in the stirring little drama heartily on the
back.
"Good boy, Josh!" he went on to say; "you're all wool, and a yard wide.
Why, even Rod here couldn't have done a whit better. There, see, the men
are starting this way as if they meant to make us get a move on."
"Oh! we're willing to oblige Jules," laughed Rod; "especially since
we've accomplished all we meant to do, and their car is placed out of
commission. Good-bye, Jules; if we meet again before we've played this
game out it will be where the cannon are roaring, and the battle is on!
Until that time, then, adieu!"
Immediately the trio started along the road leading to Ostend. Rod had
figured some time back that they would soon be across the border, and
traversing French soil. The last glimpse they had of the baffled plotter
he was standing in the road and still staring hard after the vanishing
Motorcycle Boys.
CHAPTER V.
ON THE ROAD TO CALAIS.
"What's this I see ahead there, boys? Looks like there might be some
other motorcycle fellows around these regions, though I guess they've
left their mounts behind."
It was Hanky Panky who said this. They had halted at a wayside spring to
refresh themselves, for the road was proving pretty dusty.
At noon the three boys had swung through Ostend on the Belgian coast.
The famous watering place did not look just the same as on other
summers, when tens of thousands visited it for the sport to be enjoyed
in the sea. True, it was swarming with people, but in the main soldiers
walked the sands, and there was a decidedly martial air to the place
generally given up to gaiety.
The boys had, of course, been stopped quite frequently. With war in the
land this was only to be expected. Still the papers they carried always
won the day, and they were allowed to proceed. This could hardly be
wondered at when one of those little documents was written wholly by
King Albert himself, and contained an express desire that the bearer and
his friends should be given every possible courtesy by loyal Belgians,
as they had proved their friendship for the little kingdom to the
utmost.
Then later on the motorcycle trio knew they were on French soil, for
they had been stopped by a patrol in the famous blue tunics of the
republican army. Once more had their passports been scanned, and after a
little consultation, in which Rod was able to mingle a few sentences, he
speaking French, they were saluted respectfully by the patrol, and
allowed to proceed.
After that they had arrived at Dunkirk, where later on hundreds of
thousands of British soldiers were destined to be landed.
Once through this city the boys headed on south, aiming to reach Calais
before evening came. So far nothing serious had hindered their forward
progress, and all of them felt light-hearted indeed.
Then had come the halt at the cool wayside spring; and it was after
drinking their fill of the delightful water, thanks to a gourd some kind
person had supplied, that Hanky Panky announced his discovery.
Josh took a look, and then burst out into a loud laugh.
"Why, if you're going to believe because a fellow wears khaki he must
own a motorcycle," he told the other, "you'll have the whole country
full of spinning machines. Those are British soldiers, Hanky; Tommy
Atkins, you know, come over to France to give a helping hand to keep the
Germans out of Paris."
"Sure they are," grinned the other; "as if we didn't spy a lot of the
same up at Dunkirk when we slipped through. I was only guying you, Josh.
But we must be near Calais, don't you think, Rod?"
"Only a few miles more and we'll get there," the leader advised him.
"Like as not there's a regiment of Britishers camped near by, ready to
start off in the direction of Paris when trains can be supplied."
"Huh! they'll need all the hands they can muster to hold back that army
we saw passing through Brussels, I wager," said Josh.[1]
"Hundreds of thousands of Germans, if there was one," added Hanky Panky;
"why, they passed on the dog-trot for hours all that afternoon; and in
the morning the drab-colored line was still moving steadily through the
city, headed south."
"There, those two men are going down the road now, in the same direction
we are," Josh went on to say; "I'd like to come up with them, and hear a
few words in my own mother tongue. Let me tell you I'm tired of
listening to only German, Flemish and French."
The two soldiers, hearing the splutter of the motorcycles behind them,
drew to one side of the road so as to allow the trio of boys to pass.
Instead of doing this the chums dismounted and saluted.
"We're three Americans boys who got caught in the whirl of the war on
the border of the Rhine country," Rod hastened to explain. "We've had a
pretty warm experience getting through Belgium with our machines, but by
great good luck managed to do so. Now we want to get to the front where
the fighting is going on. We've a good reason for wishing to do that,
you see. Where is your camp, may I ask, fellows?"
The two young Britishers exchanged surprised looks. Evidently they
hardly knew whether to believe Rod or not, his story seemed so
remarkable. Still they must have been favorably impressed with his
looks, as nearly every person was, for presently they smiled broadly,
and insisted on shaking hands with each of the motorcycle boys.
"Our camp is about a mile ahead, and alongside the road," one of them
hastened to explain; "you will be held up there, unless you sheer off on
a little side road that lies just beyond that batch of squatty trees."
Evidently this was intended as a gentle hint. Rod, however, only
laughed.
"Thanks for the tip, my friend," he said gaily; "but we mean to spend
the night in Calais, and will be only too glad to meet your commanding
officer. We have papers he will be pleased to see; and there isn't a
general on French soil but who would gladly let us pass on the
recommendations we carry."
"When do you expect to start for the front?" asked Josh just then, as
with his companions he prepared to move on.
"We have received notice that a train will be ready for us an hour after
sundown; and let me tell you we are highly pleased to know it," came the
reply, accompanied with a good-natured smile.
"What is the news from the front?" continued Josh eagerly.
"A tremendous battle is on before Paris," replied the Britisher. "Von
Kluck has swung around from the northwest, and is trying to envelope the
city with his forces, while two other armies are bearing down from the
north and northeast. It will be all the French can do to hold them back.
Most of us expect that Paris will fall inside of a few days. But we're
fair wild to get in the ruck, and strike a blow at the Kaiser's
soldiers. He's called the British a contemptible little army, you must
know."
"Here's hoping that you do have that pleasure!" called Josh as he turned
and looked back over his shoulder, for the three boys had started along
the road; "and my dearest wish is that I get on the ground before all
the scrapping is over."
A short time afterwards and they arrived at the place where the regiment
of khaki-clad Britisher regulars was in a temporary camp. They were
awaiting the summons to take their train when it was made up, and be
whirled off to the scene of carnage, where tens of thousands of men on
both sides were fated to be killed and wounded before three more suns
had set.
Rod expected to be held up, and therefore was not in the least surprised
when a patrol stepped into the road, motioning to the three lads to
halt. They were soon taken to the place where several officers sat
looking over a map of Paris and its environs, where they fully expected
to be in action before another twenty-four hours had passed.
The British officers eyed them with more or less wonder, and not a
little suspicion in the bargain, for they soon realized that the boys
were not English, as they had at first supposed; and ugly rumors
concerning clever German spies had already begun to pass current in the
ranks of the Allies.
When Rod gave a brief account of all their adventures, from the time
they heard the first news of how war had been declared against Russia
and France by Germany, all of them were deeply interested. And they
scanned the wonderful paper bearing the signature of King Albert with
eager eyes, for already had the monarch of the dauntless little Belgian
nation become an heroic figure over across the Channel, on account of
his defiance to the Kaiser's demand that he allow the German army to
march through neutral territory in order to swoop down on Paris.
After a very pleasant ten minutes with the British officers the boys
passed on toward Calais, followed by the best of wishes.
"No use talking," Josh was heard to say, "blood is thicker than water,
after all. I've got some English and Scotch and Irish blood in me, and
that's why my heart is with the cause of the Allies. I suppose if I'd
had German ancestors I'd be just as much for their cause; but all the
same I am not."
Shortly afterwards they arrived in Calais, and put up at an inn
recommended by one of the officers as being decent and reasonable.
Calais was already in the throes of the war, for the streets were
crowded with marching soldiers; and artillery trains could be seen
moving this way and that, as they were being loaded on flat cars to be
taken to the front.
The boys expected to pass the night there, getting such sleep as was
possible, considering the confusion that prevailed. In the morning, if
all were well, they could make an early start in the direction of Paris,
expecting to find splendid roads all of the way, and with nothing to
delay them, unless it were the fact that moving armies clogged the
thoroughfares so that a passage was impossible.
After they had had their supper they wandered forth to look around a
little, because on account of meaning to get away so early they knew
there would be no opportunity to do this in the morning.
All of them felt rather tired, however, and it was not long before Hanky
Panky voiced the general sentiment when he suggested that sleep would
fill the bill better than anything else he knew of.
They had a room with two beds, and as Josh was a restless sleeper he was
given the single cot. It may have been about one or two in the morning
when Rod awoke, oppressed with the conviction that there was something
moving in the room, which suggestion sent a thrill through his whole
being, and aroused him thoroughly.
[Footnote 1: See "The Big Five Motorcycle Boys Under Fire."]
CHAPTER VI.
THE FRETFUL ROAR OF BATTLE.
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?"
CHAPTER VII.
CLOSE TO THE FIRING LINE.
"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.
CHAPTER VIII.
OUT OF THE JAWS OF THE TRAP.
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."
CHAPTER IX.
THE NIGHT ALARM.
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."
CHAPTER X.
MORE NEWS FROM THE FRONT.
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!"
CHAPTER XI.
HELP FOR THE STRANDED ONE.
"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.
CHAPTER XII.
TURNING THE TABLES.
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.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE FIELD HOSPITAL.
"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.
CHAPTER XIV.
WHERE THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE RAGED.
"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 _aw_ful sight when they come
to close grips!"
CHAPTER XV.
THE TAKING OF THE GERMAN TRENCHES.
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."
CHAPTER XVI.
A SUDDEN SURPRISE.
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.
CHAPTER XVII.
BEHIND THE BARRICADE.
"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.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE COMING OF THE ZOUAVES.
"Why don't you give them a shot, Rod?" Hanky Panky was heard calling
just then, for apparently things had reached a crisis, and he expected
seeing one of the raiders come pushing through the opening the next
thing.
Rod was only holding back so as to keep his fire to the last extremity.
The boy was pale, and his teeth were set, but there was a blaze in his
eyes that boded no good for the first Uhlan who ventured to try to
enter.
Although the Motorcycle Boys in the start decided not to take sides if
such a thing could be avoided, they had found it impossible to control
their feelings in the matter. The cause of the Allies seemed to be
closer to American ideals than the militarist methods of the Kaiser's
men; and by degrees Rod and his chums had come to sympathize with the
French and Belgians until finally ready to openly declare that they were
for them heart and soul.
Rod hated the thought of shedding blood, even though his own life, as
well as those of his chums, seemed in deadly danger. Only as a very last
resort was Rod willing to use that weapon which had come into his
possession so strangely; and in his mind he had already determined to
only wound, if such a choice seemed possible.
The Uhlans without were exultant over the success they had already
attained. To continue their work and presently smash the door completely
in, they drew back the ladder which they were using as a battering ram.
Rod saw his chance to look out through the vent. What he saw was not of
a reassuring nature. There were five stout men in the uniform of the
reckless rough riders belonging to the German army; and they were
swinging that heavy ladder in a way that showed what delight they
experienced in just such work of destruction.
Rod did not class them as different from the soldiers of any army
raiding through the enemy's country. In fact he was not bothering his
head just then making comparisons, for he had enough to do in figuring
how he might further delay the crisis so as to give the coming zouaves a
little more time in which to arrive.
"I guess it's got to be done!" the boy was muttering to himself as he
peeped through that narrow slit of an opening and saw that the pack had
about reached the end of their swing, so that the forward rush was about
to begin.
It was easy enough to pick out the man who seemed to be the head and
brains of the bunch. He was of course in the van, and by his actions as
well as by his loudly shouted exclamations exerted a most important
influence on the others. In fact he served as the pilot of the little
group; when he gave the word they surged forward with whoops, meaning
this time to finish smashing that objectionable door.
Why the Uhlans did not attempt to force an entrance through the rear of
the house, which was absolutely undefended, Rod never could tell.
Perhaps they were of the "one-idea" class of men, who, having made up
their minds to do a thing in a certain way, could not deviate from the
plan they had laid out.
Rod saw his chance to break up that next assault if only his aim were
true. He thrust his weapon forward, finding plenty of room for his
purpose. While he did not claim to be much of a shot with such a clumsy
weapon as he now held, at the same time the boy knew considerable about
firearms in general, and that counted for a whole lot.
Besides, the distance was ridiculously scant, and really Rod would have
been deeply mortified had he missed his aim under the circumstances.
He meant to wound the leader by shooting him in the leg, and with that
intention in view aimed low when pulling the trigger. The five Uhlans
had actually started on the run at the time, so that they might strike
the tottering door a tremendous blow, and complete matters with one fell
swoop, which would give them entrance to the house.
Josh, who was peeping over Rod's shoulder, gave a howl of delight when
through the little puff of smoke that followed the feeble crack of the
revolver he saw the big leader suddenly crumple up, and, falling in a
heap, bring every one of his companions down in a struggling mass.
"A great shot, Rod, a magnificent hit!" was the burden of his shout;
"pinked the whole five at a clip! Splendid work, let me tell you, Rod!
However did you manage to do it?"
Apparently, Josh had allowed his enthusiasm to run away with his better
judgment, for he imagined that in some mysterious manner the missile
from Rod's weapon had split in sections, and scattered like a load of
bird shot, bringing down victims by the wholesale.
However that might be, Josh speedily realized his error, for a number of
the soldiers were already struggling to their feet. Only one remained on
the ground, and he was hugging his left leg as though in sudden anguish,
a fact that sent a qualm of regret through Rod's heart.
He hoped they would draw off now, and give up the attempt for a little
time at least. True, there were five more charges in his gun, and only
four of the Uhlans, so that it seemed as though he might be equal to the
task of holding them in check, but one victim was enough to satisfy him.
"They're going to try it again, Rod!" cried Josh, shrilly.
He was trembling violently with the excitement, and his face had taken
on the look of one wrought up to the fighting pitch. To tell the truth,
Josh had but a single regret just then, which was that he did not
possess the mate of the weapon his chum gripped in his hand.
"And I'd never have bothered just peppering 'em in their legs, either,"
he afterwards affirmed, when talking matters over with Hanky Panky;
"they were meaning to get us, and if the shoe happened to be on the
other foot who would be to blame?"
When Rod saw that the four men once more picked up the heavy ladder and
started to swing it forward he realized that it was up to him to try
again. By gradually reducing the number of their foes he must in the end
check their drive.
So he coolly picked out the next victim. As before, it had to be one of
those in front, so as to bring confusion to the charge, as the rest were
bound to trip over him should he fall.
All this while there arose from different quarters loud outcries and
shouts of laughter from the spoilers, filled with the mad desire to
inflict a reign of terror and frightfulness upon the natives. Shots were
also heard at intervals, women screamed, children shrieked, dogs barked,
and taken in all it was a combination of sounds never to be forgotten by
those who happened to be in the little French village.
Well, Rod was just as successful with that second shot of his as he had
been on the former occasion. With the report of his weapon he could see
the man start, and give every evidence of being hard hit. He managed to
keep from falling, however, being sustained by his grip on the ladder,
as well as the impetus of his companions' advance.
It might have altered things somewhat had Rod been given an opportunity
to discharge a third shot, this time selecting the other fellow in the
van; but before he could really grasp the immensity of this idea it was
too late.
The heavy ladder struck the already weakened door, and such was the
force with which it was hurled forward that it tore the latter from its
hinges and sent it to the floor, the end of the ladder projecting
several feet into the room.
Rod, seeing what was about to happen, had swept his two comrades back so
that none of them chanced to be struck by the falling door. There was
now a wide gap, and the three uninjured Uhlans might easily rush through
this. They would find, however, that the resistance of the inmates did
not end with the breaking in of the door; for there was Rod holding
himself in readiness to shoot again, Josh with his upraised poker, Hanky
Panky also in line with a club, and the old man who had secured the
revered gun that had hung on the wall since '71, waiting for this day,
had its sword bayonet adjusted so as to pin the first German who dared
venture across that threshold.
Fortunately there was no necessity for further action on the part of the
valiant defenders of the village home, for just at that moment there
arose a series of the wildest shouts Rod had ever heard. They were
shouting in unison, those zouaves, as they spread through the village
looking for Uhlans to spit upon their hungry bayonets. Hanky Panky in
times past had more than once ventured to make fun of certain phrases
which he had heard spoken in French; but he was now ready to confess
that there was no language on the face of the earth to be compared with
the French as falling from the bearded lips of men who wore those baggy
red trousers of the famous zouaves.
"They've come, Rod, they've really got here!" he cried, in a paroxysm of
delight.
Josh too was equally satisfied, though he should always deeply regret
that it had not fallen to his lot to strike _one_ blow for the
cause, and that all the honors had gone to Rod.
Rod, seeing that none of the Uhlans seemed disposed to renew the attack,
managed to look out; and the others were speedily at his side.
The danger, in so far as it related to the inmates of the village
houses, was past; but evidently it had only begun for the Uhlans. They
had mounted their already tired horses in hot haste, that is, all those
capable of doing so, and were trying to get out of the village, turning
and firing back at the French with reckless abandon as they went
galloping away.
Rod saw one man trying to help another mount a prancing horse. He had
his arm about the wounded man and seemed to ignore his own danger in the
desire to fetch his comrade safely away.
"That's the fellow you pinked the first time!" cried Josh,
understandingly.
Rod had already guessed as much. He hoped deep down in his heart that
the Uhlan would manage to regain his saddle and ride to safety, for the
boy did not want to feel that through any act of his the raider might be
finally brought down.
Half a minute later and the two were galloping off. Once the injured man
sat in his saddle he seemed capable of taking care of himself, though
unless his wound were attended to shortly he must become too weak from
loss of blood to continue on his way, and would find it necessary to
allow himself to be taken prisoner by the French in order to save his
life.
All around the active zouaves were running madly, and shouting in their
wild excitement. The Uhlans had not attempted to make any sort of a
stand, for they realized they were vastly outnumbered, and that it was
"safety first" with them.
From the crackling of guns that continued for some time Rod felt assured
that all of the raiders who had so boldly entered the French village
could not have gone out of it again. Some there must be caught in a
trap, for it seemed that the first of the zouaves arriving had started
to encircle the place, with the idea of cutting off the retreat of the
pillagers when they took the alarm.
Josh first of all insisted in shaking hands with each of his chums, and
then with the three valiant old men who had shown such grit. Rod, more
practical, knew that there was other work to be done.
"Here, we must find buckets, and put out that fire before it gets too
big a headway!" he told both of his companions, upon which they
bestirred themselves; and some of the zouaves coming to their
assistance, they presently had the flames completely smothered.
Things began to assume a settled appearance in the village as the sun
sank low in the west, seen through the breaks in the clouds. There was
wailing in a few of the houses over the destruction that had been
wrought during the temporary occupation of the place by the enemy.
Luckily, however, no one of the inhabitants had been killed, or even
seriously injured. Two buildings were burned, several dogs shot because
they had dared bark at the invaders, a few slight wounds received; but
on the whole every one felt that they had good reason for congratulating
themselves on the fact that things were no worse. Other French villages
did not fare so well when overrun by the invaders.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE ROAD OF VON KLUCK'S RETREAT.
After all the boys were not sorry for the experience. They had witnessed
some sights that they would never forget. Rod too could plume himself on
having done the right thing when he used his weapon twice with telling
effect.
After the fire in the rear of the house had been effectually
extinguished the good woman appeared before them to announce that supper
was served; and she added her apologies because they might find some of
the dishes not quite so warm as they liked, "For," as she naïvely put
it, "we had too much heat in another quarter; and one never knows just
how to manage when those terrible Uhlans are around."
Certainly none of the three boys found anything to complain of. They
never remembered sitting down to a finer meal, when their appetites were
on edge, as just then happened to be the case.
Hanky Panky ate until Josh solemnly warned him that he would surely
founder unless he curbed that awful appetite of his. It might have been
noticed, however, that Josh was sitting there for some little time after
his comrades had left the table, and still "sampling" the good things
that tempted him.
It was settled that since the three motorcycles were already in the
house they might as well remain there. Rod managed to fix the smashed
door so that it would close again, though a carpenter's skill would be
required to place it in its former excellent condition.
When they got through eating it was beginning to grow dusk. Josh
remarked that he guessed he would saunter out to stretch his legs, and
at the same time see the extent of damage inflicted by the brief
occupation of the village by the raiders.
"They say those Uhlans can make a howling wilderness of a Paradise
quicker than any men on the face of the earth, once they set out to do
things," Josh explained as he picked up his hat, "and I'd like to find
out if there's any truth in the yarn."
Rod told him to "mind his eye," and not wander away, since with the
night coming on there could be no telling what danger might not hover
over his head.
"For all we know some of those Germans may still be hanging about,"
added Hanky Panky, "and I'd really feel better if Rod loaned you his
gun."
"Oh, come! there's no necessity of Josh going out at all if he has to
load himself down with deadly weapons like that," laughed Rod.
Josh had his little outing, and returned in good time. He acted as
though he did not regret his determination, and Hanky Panky, knowing
from the signs that the other must have seen something worth while,
immediately set to work "pumping" him, being filled with curiosity.
"You ran across something while you were out, Josh, and I'd thank you to
open up and tell us about it," he went on to say. "Did the French chaps
with the baggy red trousers and the big yell manage to bring down any of
the German raiders when they used up so much powder and ball?"
"I believe they did, for one woman who could talk some English managed
to tell me the zouaves took three prisoners back with them, and in
addition one fellow who would have to be buried, she said, because he
was dead."
Hanky Panky would have shivered at one time on hearing such gruesome
news, but after witnessing the terrible sights accompanying the battle
along the bank of the Marne he somehow seemed to think little of it.
"Was that _all_ you saw or heard, Josh?" he continued, bent on
making the other confess to the limit.
Josh grinned, showing that he had purposely acted so as to excite the
suspicion of this curious comrade. Having attained his end, he consented
to explain further.
"Well, no, not quite all, Hanky," he remarked calmly; "I'm most sure I
saw a man skulking around who showed a whole lot of concern when I
approached, and even hurried away. He wasn't an old man either, and let
me tel
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