For a moment Tom and Jack did not quite know what to make of the excitement of Major de Trouville. And excited he certainly was beyond a doubt.
"You must come and tell this to Lieutenant Laigney at once," he said. "It may mean something important. Are you sure of the sequence of the colors?" he asked. "That makes all the difference."
"There was first an orange tint," said Tom, "which was followed by green and purple, the last gradually dying out."
"Orange, green and purple," murmured the major. "Can it be that for which we are seeking?"
He hurried along with the boys, seemingly forgetting, in his haste and excitement, that he was their ranking officer. But, as has been noted, the aviators are more like friends and equals than officers and men. There is discipline, of course, but there is none of the rigidity seen in other branches of the army. In fact the very nature of the work makes for comradeship.
Tom and Jack knew, slightly, the officer to whom Major de Trouville referred. Lieutenant Laigney was an ordnance expert, and the inventor of a certain explosive just beginning to be used in the French shells. It was simple, but very powerful.
"You must tell him what you observed—the strange colored lights, my boys," said the major. "By the way, I hope you carefully noted the time of the colored flares."
Tom and Jack had. That was part of their training, to keep a note of extraordinary happenings and the time. Often seemingly slight matters have an important bearing on the future.
They found Lieutenant Laigney in his quarters, making what seemed to be some intricate calculations. He saluted the major and nodded to the boys, whom he had met before.
"Lieutenant," began Major de Trouville, "these young gentlemen have something to tell you. I want you to think it over in the light of what you told me about the action of that new explosive you said the Germans might possibly be using."
"Very good, Major. I shall be delighted to be of any service in my power," was the answer.
Then Tom and Jack described what they had seen, giving the location of the colored lights as nearly as they could, and the exact time they had noted them.
"How long would it take a shell to reach Paris, fired at a distance of eighty miles from the city?" asked the major.
The lieutenant made some calculations, and announced the result of his findings.
"Then," went on the commanding officer, "if a shell was fired from the big gun, say at the moment when these two scouts observed the tri-colored fire, it should have reached Paris at seven-fifty-three o'clock."
"As nearly as can be calculated, not knowing the exact speed of the projectile, yes," answered the lieutenant.
Major de Trouville picked up the telephone and asked to be connected with the wireless station.
"Have you had any reports of the bombarding of Paris this evening?" he asked. "Yes? What time did the first, or any particular shell, arrive? Ah, yes, thank you. That is all at present."
He turned to the others, after having listened to the reply and put the instrument away.
"One of the shells exploded in a Paris street at seven-fifty-two o'clock this evening," he said.
"It beat your calculations by one minute, Lieutenant Laigney."
"Ah! Then this means—" and the younger officer seemed as excited as the major had been when Tom and Jack told him what they had seen.
"It means," finished the commanding officer, "that, in all likelihood, these young men have discovered the location of the big German cannon."
"Discovered it!" cried Jack. "Why we didn't see anything!"
"Nothing but those queer lights," added Tom.
Major de Trouville smiled at them, and Lieutenant Laigney nodded his head in assent.
"Those queer lights, as you call them," said the ordnance expert, "were the flashes of a new explosive. What the Germans call it I do not know. For want of a better name we call it Barlite, from the name of Professor Barcello, one of our experimenters, who discovered it. But a spy stole the secret and gave it to Germany. They must have managed to perfect it, though we have not used it as yet, owing to the difficulty in constructing a gun strong enough to withstand its terrific power."
"And do you mean they're using this explosive in the big German gun?" asked Jack, "And that we really saw it being fired?" cried Tom.
"That is my belief," said the lieutenant. "This explosive burns, when fired from a gun, first with an orange flame, changing to green and then to purple, as the various gases are given off."
"Those are the very colors we saw!" exclaimed Jack.
"Yes," went on Major de Trouville. "And when I heard you mention them, and when I recalled that Lieutenant Laigney had spoken of a certain explosive that gave off a tri-colored light, I suspected you had hit on the German secret."
"And do you believe we actually saw the giant cannon being fired at Paris?" asked Tom.
"Without a doubt. The time of the arrival of one of the shells coincides almost to the minute with the time that would elapse after the missile was sent on its way, and this was when you saw the queer flashes. You have discovered the area where the big gun is placed. All that is needed now are some exact observations to give us the exact spot."
"And then we can destroy it!" cried the lieutenant. "Then the menace to beloved Paris will have passed!"
"And thanks to our brave American friends!" cried the major, shaking hands with Tom and Jack. "You will win promotion for this!" he murmured.
"But the big gun isn't found yet," said Jack.
"Why, if you are right, sir," Tom said to the major, "the shells must pass right over our camp."
"They probably do. But at so far above—several miles up so as to reach the height of thirty-five—that we never know it. We neither see them nor hear them. Boys, I believe you have located the big gun! All that now remains is to destroy it!"
Modestly enough Tom and Jack took the new honors that came to them. As a matter of fact they were in no wise sure that they had discovered the location of the German giant cannon. It was all well enough to come in and report seeing some strange-colored flares of fire. But Tom and Jack felt that they wanted to see a thing with their own eyes before surely believing.
Of course, though, the French experts knew about what they were talking, and the major and the lieutenant seemed very sure of their ground.
"I only hope we have had the good luck to have spotted the beasts' machine," said Tom.
"You will have the honor of proving it to yourselves in the morning," Major de Trouville told them. "You shall accompany the first scouting party that goes out. We will send out two photographing machines, and enough of a squadron to meet anything the Huns can put forth. Paris shall be delivered from the Boche pests!"
"We'll do our best," said Tom, and Jack nodded in agreement.
It did not take long for the news to spread about Camp Lincoln that the two young United States aviators had, very probably, discovered by accident the big German gun.
And in telling what they had seen Tom and Jack remarked that the peculiar tri-colored fire had been in the midst of other flashes of flame, and, doubtless, smoke, but that could not be seen on account of the darkness.
"The other flashes were probably guns fired to camouflage the flash from the giant cannon, or possibly cannons," observed Major de Trouville. "But we shall see what to-morrow brings forth."
The hours of the night seemed long, but there was much to do to get ready for the next day's operations. More aviators were sent for, and the men of the air spent many hours tuning up their motors and seeing to their guns, while the big machines, which it was hoped could take pictures of the giant cannon's position, were gone over carefully.
In addition some powerful French guns were brought up—some of the longest range guns available, and it was hoped that the big aeroplanes might signal by wireless the exact location of the super-gun, so that a devastating fire could be poured on it, as well as bombs be dropped from some machines especially fitted for that work.
Camp Lincoln, where the picked squadron was situated, was in the neighborhood of Soissons, France, in a sector held by the French troops. The lines of German and French trenches, with No Man's Land in between, was about ten miles to the east of this point. This section had changed hands twice, once being occupied by the Germans, and then abandoned by them when they made the great withdrawal.
Now, perhaps ten miles back of the German trenches, the great gun was hidden, making its total distance from Paris about eighty miles, but its distance from Camp Lincoln something less than twenty miles.
Modern guns easily shoot that distance, but the commander of the forces in this section was going to shorten that. Soissons was the nearest large city to the camp. As a matter of fact the air squadron was some distance east of that place, and nearer the battleline. So that it was comparatively easy, once the location of the big gun was known, to bring up heavy artillery behind the French lines to batter away at its emplacement.
After a night of arduous labor, during which there was anxiety lest the Germans find out what was going on, morning broke, and to the relief of all it was bright.
There was an early breakfast, and then the aviators' helpers wheeled the machines from the hangars. Several big photographing craft were in readiness, and ten bombing planes were in reserve.
Major de Trouville inspected his brave men. They were as eager as dogs on the leash to be off and at the throat of the Huns. A wireless message from Paris had come in soon after breakfast, stating that nearly a score had been killed in the capital the previous night by fire from the "Bertha."
"And it's up to us to avenge them!" exclaimed Jack.
"That is what we'll do if we have any luck!" added Tom grimly.
There was a last consultation of the officers, instructions were gone over, and everything possible done to insure success. The moment a big gun was sighted, the signal was to be given and the French long-range cannon would open fire, while the bombing machines would also do their part.
"All ready! Go!" called the major, and there was a rattle and a roar that drowned his last word. The men of the air were off.
Led by Tom and Jack, the others followed. Up and up they arose, the smaller planes flying high as a protection to the more cumbersome machines of the bi-motored type. And soon the squadron, the largest that had yet ascended from Camp Lincoln, was hovering over the German lines.
The Huns seemed to realize that something more than an ordinary attack from the air was impending, for soon after the anti-aircraft guns began firing a swarm of German aviators took the air, and there was no shirking battle this time. The Huns so evidently felt the desperate need of driving away their attackers, that this, more than what the major and lieutenant had said, convinced Tom and Jack that they were at last on the track of the big gun.
Of course the two boys could not communicate with one another, but they said afterward that their thoughts were the same.
The battle of the air opened with a rush and a roar. The Germans, though outnumbered by their opponents, did not hesitate, but came on fiercely. They attacked first the big photographing planes, for they realized that these were the real "eyes" of the squadron. The impressions they received, and the views they carried back, might mean the failure of the German plans.
But the French were ready for this, and the swift little Nieuports, dashing here and there, swooping and rising, attacked the other planes vigorously.
It was give and take, hammer and tongs, fire and be fired on, smash and be smashed. It was not as one-sided a battle as it would seem it might have been owing to the superiority of numbers in favor of the French—at least at first. Several of the Allies' planes were sent down, either out of control, or in flames. But the Huns paid dearly for their quarry.
Jack and Tom ran serious risks, for the Germans, realizing that the two leading planes had some special mission, attacked them fiercely. Tom managed to shake off and disable his antagonist. But Jack's man shot with such good aim that he pierced his gasolene tank, and had it not been that Jack was able to thrust into the hole one of some wooden plugs he had brought along for the purpose, he might have had to come down within the German lines. But the wood swelled, filled the hole, and then the petrol came out so slowly that there was comparatively little danger.
And having, with some of their companions, fought their way through the German air patrol, and having escaped with minor damage to their guns, Jack and Tom looked down at the place where they had seen the queer lights.
And then, high up and at a vantage point, while below them hovered their photographing planes, the two young aviators beheld a curious sight.
In German-occupied territory, but on French soil, they saw near a railroad junction, where they were fairly well hidden in a camouflaged position, not one, but three monster Hun cannons. The guns looked more like gigantic cranes than like the accepted form of a great rifled piece of armament. The guns were so mounted that they could be run out on a small track at the moment of firing, and then propelled back again, like some of the disappearing cannon at Sandy Hook and other United States forts. Only the German guns advanced and retreated horizontally, while the usual method is vertically.
"We've discovered 'em! There they are!" cried Tom, but of course he could not hear his own voice above the roar of his motor. But he knew that he and Jack were over the very spot where the night before they had seen the colored flares from the great guns.
And they had, indeed, by a most lucky chance, located the big German guns, for there were three of them. They were placed almost midway between the railroad station of Crepyen-Lannois and the two forts known as "Joy Hills," forts which had fallen into German hands. There were two railroad spur lines from the station, and on these the heavy guns were moved to position to fire, and then run back again. Other spur lines were under course of construction, Jack and Tom, as well as the other airmen, could observe, indicating that other guns were to be mounted, perhaps to take the place of some that might be destroyed.
As a matter of fact, as was learned later, there were but two guns in service at this time, one of the three having burst.[1]
Even as the French squadron came hovering over the place where the German monster guns were placed, the advance of Tom, Jack and their comrades being disputed by the Huns, one of the super-guns was run out to fire on its specially constructed platform.
That this should be done in the very faces of the French was probably accounted for by the fact that the Germans were taken by surprise. It took some little time to arrange for firing one of the big cannons, and it was probably too late, after the French airmen were hovering above it, to get word to the crew not to discharge it.
As it happened, Tom and Jack, with Boughton, who had kept pace with them, witnessed the firing of the big gun. As it was discharged, ten other heavy guns, but, of course, of much less range, were fired off, being discharged as one to cover the report of the giant mortar. And at the same time dense clouds of smoke were sent up from surrounding hills, in an endeavor to screen the big gun from aeroplane observation. But it was too late.
In another moment, and even as the echoes of the reports of the ten cannons and the big gun were rumbling, the bombing machine of the French came up and began to drop explosives on the spot. At the same time word of the location of the great cannon was wirelessed back to the camp, and there began a devastating fire on the guns that had been, and were even then, bombarding Paris.
It was a battle of the air and on the ground at the same time. From above the French, American and British airmen were dropping tons of explosives on the emplacements of the big guns and on the railway spurs that brought them to the firing points. It might seem an easy matter for an airship flying over a place to drop an explosive bomb on it and destroy it. But, on the contrary, it is very difficult.
The bombing plane must be constantly on the move, and it takes a pretty good eye to calculate the distance from a great height sufficiently well to make a direct hit.
But a certain percentage of the bombs find their mark, and they did in this case. Tom and Jack, as well as the other scouts, looking down from their planes, saw fountains of brown earth being tossed into the air as the French bombs exploded. At the same time the photographers in the other planes were making pictures of the guns and their location.
They were hindered in this not only by the shooting of the Germans from below, who were working their anti-aircraft guns to their capacity, but by screens of smoke clouds, which were emitted by a special apparatus to hide the big guns. At the same time other cannons were being fired to disguise the sound from the immense long-range weapon, but this was of little effect, now that the location had been discovered.
Meanwhile a score or more of the Hun planes appeared in the air. They had taken flight as soon as their pilots saw the squadron of enemy machines approaching, and were eager, this time, to give battle.
"Our work's being cut out for us," murmured Tom, as he steered his machine to engage a German who seemed eager for the fray. Tom sent a spray of bullets at his enemy, and was fired at in turn. He knew his craft had been hit several times, but he did not think it was seriously damaged.
Jack, too, as he could tell by a quick glance, was also engaged with a German, but Tom had no time then to bestow on mere observation. His antagonist was a desperate Hun, bent on the utter destruction of Tom's machine. They came to closer quarters.
Down below the fighting was growing more furious. It was in the form of an artillery duel. For now the French observation machines were wirelessing back the range, and French shells were falling very near the big guns.
The heavy guns, in modern warfare, are placed miles away from the objects they wish to hit, and the only way to know where the targets are is by aeroplane observation. When the guns are ready to fire one of the artillery control planes goes up over the enemy's territory. Of course it is the object of the enemy to drive it away if possible.
But, hovering in the air, the observer in the double-motored machine notes the effect of the first shot from his side's cannon. If it goes beyond the mark he so signals by wireless. If it falls short he sends another signal. Thus the range is corrected, and finally he sees that the big shells are landing just where they are needed to destroy a battery, or whatever is the object aimed at. The observation complete, the machine goes back over its own lines—if the Germans let it.
This sort of work was going on below them while Tom, Jack and the others in the Nieuports were engaging in mortal combat with the Hun fliers. Some of the heavy French shells fell beyond the emplacements of the big guns, and others were short. The observers quickly made corrections by wireless for the gunners. Tom Raymond, after a desperate swoop at his antagonist, sent him down in flames, and then, seeking another to engage, at the same time wondering how Jack had fared, the young aviator looked down and saw one of the largest of the French shells fall directly at the side of the foremost of the three German giant cannons.
There was a terrific explosion. Of course, Tom could not hear it because of his height and the noise his motor was making, but he could see what happened. A great breach was made in the long barrel of the German gun, and its emplacement was wrecked, while the men who had been swarming about the place like ants seemed to melt into the earth. They were blotted out.
"One gone!" exclaimed Tom grimly. And then he noted that the other two guns had been withdrawn beneath the camouflage. They were no longer in sight, and hitting them was a question of chance.
Still the French batteries kept up their fire, hoping to make another hit, but it would be a matter of mere luck now, for the guns were out of observation.
The airmen observers, however, still had a general idea of where the super-weapons were, and the French gunners continued to send over a rain of shells, while the bombing machines, save one that had been destroyed by the German fire, kept dropping high explosives in the neighborhood.
"The place will be badly chewed up, at any rate," mused Tom.
He glanced in the direction where he had last seen Jack, and to his horror saw his chum's machine start downward in a spinning nose dive.
"I wonder if they've got him, or if he's doing that to fool 'em," thought Tom. As he was temporarily free from attack at that instant he started toward his friend. Hovering over him, and spraying bullets at Jack, was a German machine, and Tom realized that this fighter might have injured, or even killed, Jack.
"Well, I'll settle your hash, anyhow!" grimly muttered the young birdman to himself. He sailed straight for the Hun, who had not yet seen him, and then Tom opened fire. It was too late for the German to turn to engage his second antagonist, and Tom saw the look of hopelessness on his face as the bullets crashed into his machine, sending it down a wreck.
"So much for poor old Jack!" cried Tom.
They were well over the German lines now, and the fight was going against the French. That is, they were being outnumbered by the Hun planes, which were numerous in the air. But the French had accomplished their desperate mission. One of the German guns was out of commission, and perhaps others, while the location had been made "considerably unhealthy," as Boughton expressed it afterward.
It was time for the French to retire, and those of their machines that were able prepared to do this. But Tom was going to see first what happened to Jack before he returned to his lines.
"He may be spinning down, intending to get out of a bad scrape that way, and then straighten for a flight toward home," mused Tom. "Or he may be—"
But he did not finish the sentence.
There was but one way for Tom to be near Jack when the latter landed—if such was to be his fate—and to give him help, provided he was alive. And that was for Tom himself to go down in a spinning nose dive, which is the speediest method by which a plane can descend. But there is great danger that the terrific speed may tear the wings from the machine.
"I'm going to risk it, though," decided Tom.
Down and down he spun, and as he looked; he became aware, to his joy, that Jack had his machine under some control.
"He isn't dead yet, by any means," thought Tom. "But he may be hurt. I wonder if he can make a good landing? If he does it will be inside the German lines, though, and then—"
But Tom never faltered. He must rescue his chum, or attempt to, at all hazards.
Down went both machines, Jack's in the lead, and then, to his joy, Tom saw his friend bring the machine on a level keel again and prepare to make a landing. This was in a rather lonely spot, but already, in the distance, as Tom could note from his elevated position, Germans were hurrying toward the place, ready to capture the French machine.
"If he's alive I'll save him!" declared Tom. "My machine will carry double in a pinch, but he'll have to ride on the engine hood."
Tom was going to take a desperate chance, but one that has been duplicated and equalled more than once in the present war. He was going to descend as near Jack's wrecked machine as he could, pick up his chum, and trust to luck to getting off again before the Germans could arrive.
That Jack was once more master of his craft became evident to his friend. For the Nieuport was slowing down and Jack was making ready for as good a landing as possible under the circumstances. It was plain, however, that his machine was damaged in some way, or he would have gone on flying toward his own lines.
Tom saw his chum drop to the ground, and then saw him quickly climb out of his seat, loosing the strap that held him in. By this time other German planes were swooping toward the place, and a squad of cavalry was also galloping toward it.
"I'll beat you, though!" cried Tom fiercely.
He throttled down his engine, intending to give it just enough gas to keep it going, for he would have no one to start it for him if the motor stalled. He calculated that he could taxi the craft across the ground slowly enough for Jack to jump on and then he could get away, saving both of them.
Jack understood the plan at once. He waved his hand to Tom to show that he would be ready, and Tom felt a joy in his heart as he realized that his chum was uninjured.
Down to the ground went Tom, and he guided his machine toward Jack, standing beside his own damaged craft, waiting. Suddenly there was a sharp report, and Tom saw Jack's machine burst into flames.
"He fired into the gasolene tank!" thought Tom. "That's the boy! He isn't going to let the Huns get his machine and the maps and instruments. Good!"
Jack leaped back from the blaze that suddenly enveloped his aeroplane and then ran toward Tom's machine. As he leaped upon the engine hood, which he could do with little more risk than boarding a swiftly moving trolley car, there was a burst of rifle fire from the cavalry, some of which had reached the scene.
Jack gave a gasping cry, and fell limp. He almost slipped from the motor hood, but with one hand Tom quickly fastened his companion's life belt to the support and then, knowing Jack could not fall off, opened his engine wide.
Across the ground the double-loaded craft careened, while the cavalry opened fire.
"If they hit me now, it's all up with both of us!" thought Tom desperately.
But though the bullets splattered all around him, and some hit the machine, neither he nor Jack was struck again, nor was any vital part of the machinery damaged. Poor Jack, though, seemed lifeless, and Tom feared he had arrived the fraction of a minute too late.
Then up rose Tom's plane, up and up, the powerful engine doing its best, though the machine was carrying double weight. But the Nieuports are mechanical wonders, and once the craft was free of the earth it began climbing. Fortunately there were no swift German machines near enough to give effective chase, though some of the heavier bi-motored craft opened fire, as did the cavalry from below, as well as some of the anti-aircraft guns.
But Tom, keeping on full speed, soon climbed up out of danger, and then swung around for a flight toward his own lines. He could see, ahead of him, the fleet of French planes, going back after the raid on the big guns. Tom's plane was the rearmost one.
Then he knew that he was safe! But he feared for Jack!
One after another, such as were left of the raiding party landed. Their comrades crowded around them, congratulating them with bubbling words of joy. Yet there was sorrow for those that did not return.
"Is he dead?" asked Tom, as orderlies quickly unstrapped Jack, and prepared to carry him to the hospital. "Is he dead?"
"Alive, but badly wounded," said a surgeon, who made a hasty examination.
And then all seemed to become dark to Tom Raymond.
"Well, Jack, old man, how do you feel?"
"Oh, pretty good! How's yourself?"
"Better, now that they've let me in to see you."
"You got the big guns, I understand."
"You meanyoudid, too. It was as much your doings as mine. Yes, we sprayed 'em good and proper. They won't fire on Paris again right away, but I suppose they'll not give up the trick, once they have learned it. But we have their number all right. Now you want to hurry up and get well."
Jack was in the hospital recovering from several bullet wounds. They had not been as dangerous as at first feared, but they were bad enough. Tom had come to see him and give some of the details of the great raid, which Jack had been unable to hear because of weakness. Now he was convalescing.
"What's the idea of hurry?" asked Jack. "Are we going after more big cannon?"
"No, this is a different stunt now. We're going over the Rhine."
"Over the Rhine?" and Jack sat up in bed.
"Monsieur—I must beg—please do not excite him!" exclaimed a pretty nurse, hurrying up. "The doctor said he must keep quiet."
"But I want to hear about this," insisted Jack. "Over the Rhine! Say, that'll be great! Carrying the war into the enemy's country for fair!"
"I'll tell you a little later," promised Tom, moving away in obedience to an entreaty from the nurse.
Whether it was Tom's news or Jack's natural health was not made clear, but something certainly caused Jack Parmly to recover strength much more rapidly then the surgeons had believed possible, so that he was able to leave the hospital soon after Tom's visit.
"And now I want you to explain what you meant by saying we were to go over the Rhine," Jack insisted to his chum. "I've been wondering and thinking about it ever since you mentioned it, but none of them would tell me a thing."
"No, I reckon not," chuckled Tom.
"Why, you old sphinx?"
"Because they didn't know. It's a secret."
"Can you tell me?"
"Sure! Because you're going to be in it if you are strong enough."
"Strong enough? Of course I'll be! Why, I'm feeling better every minute! Now you go ahead and relieve my anxiety. But first tell me—have you had any news of your father?"
Tom shook his head.
"Not a word," he answered. "I'm beginning to feel that he has been captured by the Germans."
"That's bad," murmured Jack. "And now, have you heard anything about—"
"Bessie and her mother?" finished Tom, breaking in on his chum's question with a laugh. "Yes, I'm glad I can give you good news there. They are all right, and I have a letter from Bessie for you. She wants you to come and see her."
"You have a letter? Why didn't you give it to me before? You fish!"
"It just came. And so did news about their safety."
"Then the spy didn't get 'em after all."
"Oh, yes, he got 'em all right! But he bungled the job, or rather, Bessie bungled it for him. They were rescued, and the spy was locked up. We're to go to Paris to see them. They'll tell us all about it then."
"But what has that to do with our going over the Rhine?"
"Nothing. We're to go to Paris for a rest, and to get in shape for a big effort against the Germans. I'll tell you about it."
"Forge ahead, then."
Tom got up to look at the doors and windows of the French cottage back of the lines, where Jack had been moved to complete his recovery. Tom and Jack, after the sensational raid, had been given leave of absence.
"I just want to make sure no one hears what I say, for it's a dead secret yet," Tom went on. "But this is the plan. The French have several of the biggest and newest Italian planes—planes that can carry half a dozen men and lots of ammunition. Our aerodrome is going to be shifted to the Alsace-Lorraine front, and from there, where the distance to German territory is shorter than from here, we are to go over the Rhine and bombard some of their ammunition and arms factories, and also railroad centers, if we can reach 'em."
"Good!" cried Jack. "I'm with you from the fall of the hat!"
"First you've got to build up a little," stated Tom. "There is no great rush about this Rhine-crossing expedition. A lot of plans have to be perfected, and we've got to try out the Italian plane. And, before that, we are to go to Paris."
"Who says so?"
"Major de Trouville. He's greatly pleased with the result of the raid on the big German guns, and says we're entitled to a vacation. Also he knows I want to make some more inquiries about my father. But I fear they will be useless," and Tom sighed.
"And are we to go to see Mrs. Gleason?" asked Jack.
"Yes. And Bessie, too. They'll tell us all that happened."
A few days later, having received the necessary papers, Tom and Jack were once more on their way to the capital. And this time they did not, with others, have to suffer the danger and annoyance of the long-range bombardment. It was over for a time, but there was no guarantee that the Germans would not renew it as soon as they could repair the damage done to their giant cannons.
The boys found Bessie and her mother in lodgings in a quiet part of Paris, and were met with warm greetings. Then the Gleasons told their story.
They had been inveigled out of their lodgings by the false note from the boys, and had immediately been taken in charge by the spy, who, it was proved, was an agent of the infamous Potzfeldt. But Bessie, after several days' captivity in an obscure part of the great city, managed to drop a letter out of the window, asking for help.
The police were communicated with, and not only rescued Mrs. Gleason and her daughter, but caught the spy as well, and secured with him papers which enabled a number of Germany's ruthless secret service agents to be arrested.
It was because of the necessity for keeping this part of the work quiet that no word of the rescue of Bessie and her mother was sent to the boys until after the big gun raid.
There was much to be talked about when the friends met once more, and Mrs. Gleason said she and Bessie were going back to the United States as soon as they could, to get beyond the power of Potzfeldt.
As Tom had feared, there was no news of his father, but he did not yet give up all hope.
"If he's a prisoner there's a chance to rescue him," he said.
The time spent in Paris seemed all too short, and it came to an end sooner than the boys wished. Jack was almost himself again, though he limped slightly from one of the German bullets in his leg. There was every hope, however, that this would pass away in time.
Good-byes were said to Bessie and her mother, and once more the two Air Service boys reported to their aerodrome. There they found not one, but two, of the big Italian machines, which are capable of long flight, carrying loads that even the most ponderous bombing plane would be unable to rise with.
Preparations for the bold dash into the enemy's country went on steadily and swiftly. Tom and Jack were trained in the management of the big birds of the air, and though it was essentially different from what they had been used to in the Nieuports and the Caudrons, they soon mastered the knack of it, and became among the most expert.
"I believe I made no mistake when I picked them to be part of the raiding force," said Major de Trouville.
"Indeed you did not," agreed Lieutenant Laigney. "Their work in discovering the big guns, and their help in silencing them, showed what sort of boys they are."
And finally the day came when those who were to take part in the raid across the Rhine were to proceed to a point within the French lines from which the start was to be made.
Other Italian planes would await them there, and there they would receive final instructions.
They bade farewell to their comrades in Camp Lincoln, and were given final hand-shakes, while more than one, struggling to repress his emotion wished them "bonne chance!"
This raid against one of the largest and most important of the German factory and railroad sections had long been contemplated and details elaborately worked out for it. The start was to be made from the nearest point in French-occupied territory, and it was calculated that the big Italian machines could start early in the evening, cross the Rhine, reach their objective by midnight, drop the tons of bombs and be back within the French lines by morning.
Such, at least, was the hope. Whether it would be realized was a matter of anxious conjecture.
At last all was in readiness. The final examinations of the machines and their motors had been made and the supplies and bombs were in place.
"Attention!" called the commander. "Are you ready?"
"Ready!" came from Tom, who was in command of one machine.
"Ready!" answered Haught, who was in charge of the second.
"Then go, and may good fortune go with you!"
There was a roar of the motors, and the big, ponderous machines started for Germany.
Would they ever reach it?
Under the evening stars, the two big Italian machines slowly, and, it must be said, somewhat ponderously, as compared with a speedy Nieuport, winged their way toward the German river, behind which it was hoped, some day, to drive the savage Huns.
"What do you think?" asked Jack of his chum, for in these latest machines, by reason of the motors being farther from the passengers, and by means of tubes, some talk could be carried on.
"I don't know just what to think," was the answer. "So much has happened of late, that it's almost beyond my thinking capacity."
"That's right. And yet I can guess one thing you have in mind, Tom, old scout."
"What is it?"
"Your father! You're hoping you can rescue him."
"That's right, I am. And as soon as this drive is over—if we come back from it with any measure of success, and I can get a long leave of absence—I'm going to make a thorough search for him."
"And I'll be with you; don't forget that!"
There was not time for too much talk of a personal nature, as Tom and Jack had to give their attention to the great plane. The motors were working to perfection, and with luck they should, within a few hours, be over the great German works, which they hoped to blow up.
Tom was in charge of the plane, but he had Jack and others to help him, and there was a certain freedom of movement permitted, not possible in even the big photographing or bombing planes.
Down below little could be seen, for they were now over the French and German trenches, and neither side was showing lights for fear of attracting the fire of the other.
But Tom and Jack had been coached in the course they were to take and, in addition, they had a pilot who, a few weeks before, had made a partially successful raid in the region beyond the Rhine, barely escaping with his life.
And so they flew on under the silent stars, that looked like the small navigating lights on other aeroplanes. But, as far as the raiders knew, they were the only ones aloft in that particular region just then. They had risen to a good height to avoid possible danger from the German anti-aircraft guns. There was not much danger from the German planes, as, of late, the Huns had shown no very strong liking for night work, except in necessary defense.
Off to the left Tom and Jack could see the other big Italian plane, in charge of Haught. It carried only small navigating lights, carefully screened so as to be invisible from below.
"I suppose you understand the orders," said Tom, speaking to Jack.
"Well, we went over them; but it wouldn't do any harm to refresh my memory. You're to be in general charge of the navigation of the plane, and I'm to see to dropping the bombs—is that it?"
"That's it. You'll have to use your best judgment when it comes to your share. I'll get you over the German works and railroad centers, as nearly as I can in the dark, and then it will be up to you."
"I hope I don't fail," said Jack, speaking through the tube.
"You won't. Don't get nervous. Any kind of a hit will throw a scare into the Huns, and make them feel that they aren't the only ones who can make air raids. But in this case we're not bombing a defenseless town, and killing women and children. This is a fortified place we're going over, and it's well defended."
"Some difference," agreed Jack.
"And if we can get some direct hits," went on Tom, "and blow to smithereens some of their munition or armament factories, we'll be so much nearer to winning the war."
And that, in brief, was the object of the flight over the Rhine.
Once more the boys fell silent.
On and on swept the planes. Whether the Germans beneath were aware of the danger that menaced them, it is impossible to say. But they made no attempt to fire on the Italian craft. Probably because of the darkness, and owing to the great height at which they flew, the Huns were in ignorance of what was taking place.
On and on in the night and beneath the silent stars they flew. Now Tom and the pilot began watching for some landmark—some cluster of lights which would tell them their objective was within sight. But for another hour nothing was done save to guide the big craft steadily onward.
Once, as Jack looked down, he saw what seemed to be a city, and he thought this might be the place where the great factories were situated.
"No, it's an important town," Tom said, in answer to his chum's inquiries, "but it is only a town—not a fortress, as the Huns call London. That isn't fair game for us."
But half an hour later the pilot spoke sharply, and gave an order. He pointed downward and ahead and there a faint glow, and one that spread over a considerable area, could be made out.
"That is where we are to drop the bombs," said Tom to Jack.
The other machine, which had flown somewhat behind the one in which were the two chums, now swerved over at greater speed. Her pilot, too, had picked up the objective.
And now began the most dangerous part of the mission. For it would not do to drop the bombs from too great a height. There was too much risk of missing the mark. The planes must descend, and then they would be within range of the defensive guns.
But it had to be done, and the order was given. As Jack and Tom went lower, in company with the other plane, they observed that they were over a great extent of factory buildings, where German war work was going on.
And now the noise of their motors was heard. Searchlights flashed out below them, and stray beams picked them up. Then the anti-aircraft guns began to bark.
"We're in for a hot time!" cried Jack.
"You said it!" echoed Tom, as he steered the great plane to get into an advantageous position.
Through a glare of light, and amid a hail of shots, the great airships rushed down to hover over the German factories. They would not let go their bombs until in a position to do the most damage, and this took a little time.
"How about it, Tom?" asked Jack, for he was anxious to begin dropping the bombs.
"Just another minute. We'll go down a little lower, and so do all the more damage."
And down the airship went. She was hit several times, for shrapnel was bursting all around, but no material damage was done, though one of the observers was wounded.
"Now!" suddenly signaled Tom.
"There they go!" shouted Jack, and he released bomb after bomb from the retaining devices.
Down they dropped, to explode on striking, and the loud detonations could be heard even above the roar of the motors. Tom noted that the other machine was also doing great destruction, and he saw that their object had been accomplished.
Several fires broke out below them in different parts of the factory property, and soon the Germans had to give so much attention to saving what they could, that their fire against the hostile airships noticeably slackened.
"Any more bombs left, Jack?" asked Tom.
"A few," answered his chum.
"Let 'em have it now. We're right over a big building that seems to be untouched."
Down went the bombs, and such an explosion resulted that it could mean but one thing. They had set off a munition factory. This, as the boys afterward learned, was the case.
So great was the blast that the great plane skidded to one side, and a moment later there came a cry of alarm from some of the crew.
"What's the matter?" shouted Tom.
"Out of control," was the answer. "One of the motors has stopped, and we've got to go down."
"Can't we go up?"
"No!" was the despairing answer. "We've got to land within the German lines."
And down the great Italian plane went, while her sister ship of the air sailed safely off, for it would have been foolhardy for her to have tried to come to the rescue.
The crew worked desperately to send their craft up again, but it was useless. Lower and lower she went, fortunately not being fired at, so great was the confusion caused by the destruction of the factories.
"Take her down as far away as possible from this scene," said Tom to one of his men. "If we land in a lonely place we may be able to make repairs and get up again."
"I will," was the answer.
Through the light from the burning buildings, a spot in a level field was selected for a landing. And down the Italian plane went.
A hasty examination showed little wrong with the motor, and this little was quickly repaired.
But the hope of getting the airship to rise again was frustrated, for just as the raiding party was about to take its place in the machine again, a company of German soldiers came running over the fields, demanding the surrender of the intrepid men of the air. There was nothing else to do—no time to set the craft on fire.
So it fell into the hands of the Germans! Tom, Jack and the others were prisoners!
"Well, this is tough luck!"
"Tough is no name for it, Jack. It's the worst ever! I don't suppose they'll do a thing to us after what we did to the factories."
"No. We certainly scotched 'em good and proper. Everything went off like a tea party, except our coming down. And we could have gotten up again, only those Germans didn't give us a chance."
"You can't blame 'em for that."
"No, I suppose not. But it's hard lines. I wonder why they're keeping us here?"
Tom and Jack were talking thus while held prisoners by the Germans, after the airship raid over the Rhine. It was an hour after they had been forced to descend.
So sudden had been the rush of the German infantry that no chance was had to destroy the great Italian plane, and it, and all the crew, including the two Air Service boys, had been overpowered, and disarmed. They were thrust into what might pass for a guardhouse, and then, a guard having been posted, the other soldiers hurried back to aid in fighting the fire which had been started in the great factories, and which was rapidly spreading to all the German depot.
"Well, it's worth being captured to think of the damage we've inflicted on the Huns this night," observed Jack, as he stood with Tom in the midst of their fellow prisoners.
"That's right. We don't need to be ashamed of our work, especially as we've helped put the big guns out of business. I reckon the Boches won't treat us any too well, when they know what we've done."
"And the other plane got away, they tell me," observed one of the French crew.
"Yes, I saw her rise and light out for home, after dropping a ton or so of bombs on this district," said Tom. "Well, she can go back and report a success."
"And let the folks know we're prisoners," said Jack. "It's tough luck, but it had to be, I suppose! We're lucky to be alive."
"You said it," agreed Tom. "We came through a fierce fire, and it's a wonder that we weren't all shot to pieces. As it is, the plane is as good as ever."
"Yes, and if we could only get out to it, and start it going we could escape," observed one of the Frenchmen bitterly. "There she is now, on as good a starting field as one could wish!"
From their stockade of barbed wire they could look out and see, by the glare of the flames, that the great plane stood practically undamaged. A good landing had been made, but, unfortunately, in the midst of the German ammunition depot section.
"Whew, that was a fierce one!" exclaimed Jack, as a loud explosion fairly shook the place where they were held prisoners. "Some ammunition went up that time."
Indeed the explosion did seem to be a disastrous one, for there was considerable shouting and the delivering of orders in German following the blast. Many of the soldiers who had been summoned to stand on guard about the barbed-wire stockade, where the captured raiders were held, were summoned away, leaving only a small number on duty.
But as these were well armed, and as the wire stockade was a strong one, and as Jack, Tom and the others had nothing with which to make a fight, they were as safely held as though guarded by a regiment.
"There goes another!" cried Jack, as a second detonation, almost as loud as the first, shook the ground. "Some of our bombs must have been time ones."
"No," said Tom. "What's probably happening is that the fire is reaching stores of ammunition, one after the other. This whole place may go up in a minute."
That seemed to be the fear on the part of the Germans, for more orders were shouted, and all but two of the soldiers guarding the captives were summoned away from the wire stockade.
There had been a bright flare of fire after the second explosion, but this soon died away, and the shouts and commands of the officers directing the fire-fighting force could be heard.
Tom and Jack were standing near the wire barrier trying to look out to see what was going on beyond a group of ruined factory buildings, and at the same time casting longing eyes at the great aeroplane which seemed only waiting for them, when the two boys became aware of a figure which appeared to be slinking along the side of the stockade. This figure acted as though it desired to attract no attention, for it kept as much as possible in the shadows.
"Did you see that?" asked Jack of his churn in a low voice.
"Yes. What do you make it out to be?"
"He isn't a German soldier, for he isn't in uniform. Have any of our crowd found a way out of this place by any chance?"
"I don't know. If they have—"
The boy's words were broken off by a low-voiced call from the slinking figure. It asked:
"Are you American, French or English prisoners?"
"Some of each variety," answered Jack, while at the sound of that voice Tom Raymond felt a thrill of hope.
"If you get out, is there a chance for you to get away in your aircraft?" the figure in the shadow questioned. "Be careful, don't let the guards hear."
"There are only two, and they're over at the front gate," said Jack, as Tom drew nearer in order better to hear the tones of that voice. "They seem more occupied in watching the fire than in looking at us," went on Jack.
"Good!" exclaimed the man. "Now listen. I am an American, and I was captured by the Germans, through spy work, some time ago, in Paris. I was brought here, and they have been trying to force me to disclose the secret of some of my inventions.
"I refused, and was sentenced to be shot to-morrow. But to-night you fortunately raided this place. My prison was one of the places to be blown up, and I managed to escape, without being hurt much. I heard that they had captured the crew of one of the airships, and I came to see if I could help. They don't know yet that I'm free, and I have two hand grenades.
"Now listen carefully. I'll throw the grenades at the front gate. By shattering that it may be possible for you to get out. The two sentries, will have to take the chances of war. If you get out can you get away in your airship?"
"Yes, and we can take you with us—Dad!" exclaimed Tom in a tense whisper.
"Who speaks?" hoarsely asked the man in the shadow of the stockade.
"It is I—your son—Tom Raymond! Oh, thank heaven I have found you at last!" exclaimed Tom, and he tried to stretch his hand through the barbed wire, but it was too close.
"Is it really you, Tom, my boy?" asked Mr. Raymond in a broken voice, full of wonder.
"Yes! And to think I should find you here, of all places!" whispered Tom. "I won't stop now to ask how it happened. Can you throw those grenades at the gate?"
"I can, and will! Tell your friends to run back to the far end of the stockade to avoid being hurt. I can crouch down behind some of the ruined walls."
Tom and Jack quickly communicated the good news to their friends, that a rescue was about to be attempted. It was a desperate chance, but they were in the mood for such.
The two guards alone remaining of the force that had been posted about the stockade were so distracted by the fires and explosions around them, and so fearful of their own safety, that they did not pay much attention to the prisoners. So when Tom and Jack passed the word, and the airship crew ran to the end of the stockade and crouched down to avoid injury when the hand grenades should be exploded, the guards paid little attention.
Mr. Raymond, for it was indeed he, crawled to a position of vantage, and then threw the hand grenades. They were fitted with short-time fuses, and almost as soon as they fell near the stockade gate they exploded with a loud report. A great hole was torn in the ground, and one of the sentries was killed while the other was so badly injured as to be incapable of giving an alarm. The gate was blown to pieces.
"Come on!" cried Tom to his friends, as he saw what his father had done. "It's now or never, before they rush in on us."
They raced to the breach in the wire wall of the stockade. Mr. Raymond, springing up from where he had taken refuge behind a pile of refuse, was there to greet those he had saved, and he and Tom clasped hands silently in the gloom that was lighted up by the fires and the bursts of light from the munition explosions.
"Oh, Dad! And it's really you!" murmured Tom.
"Yes, my boy!Inever expected to see you again. Did you know I was here?"
"I never dreamed of it! But don't let's stop to talk. We must get to the airship at once! But you are wounded, Dad!"
"Nothing but a splinter from a bomb. It's only a cut on the head, Son," and Mr. Raymond wiped away the blood that trickled down on his face.
The newly freed prisoners lost no time. With a rush they made for the airship. If they could only get aboard and start it off all would yet be well. Could they do it?
Momentary silence had followed the detonation of the two hand grenades thrown by Mr. Raymond, but now there came yells of rage from the Germans, disclosing that they had become aware of what was going on.
"Lively, everybody!" cried Tom, as he led the way to the big plane.
"Are we all here?" asked Jack.
A rapid count showed that not one of the brave force had been left behind.
"Is there room for me?" asked Mr. Raymond.
"Well, I should say so!"
"If there isn't I'll stay behind," cried Jack.
"No you won't!" exclaimed Tom. "There'll be room all right!"
The running men reached the plane just as they could see, in the light of the burning factories, a squad of Germans rushing to intercept them. In haste they scrambled aboard, and pressed the self-starter on the engine. There was a throbbing roar, answered by a burst of fire from the German rifles, for the place had been so devastated that no machine guns were available just then.
"All aboard?" asked Tom, as he stood ready to put the motors at full speed and send the craft along the ground, and then up into the air.
"All aboard—we're all here!" answered Jack, who had kept count. And Mr. Raymond was included.
Then with a louder roar the motors jumped to greater speed, and the Italian plane started off. In another instant it rose into the air.
With yells of rage the Germans even tried to hold it back with their hands, and, failing, they increased their fire. But though the plane was hit several times, and two on board shot, one later dying from his wounds, the whole party got off. A few minutes later they were above the burning factories, and had a view of the great destruction wrought on the German base. So completely destroyed was it that few defense guns were left in condition to fire at the aeroplane.
"Well, we did that in great shape!" exclaimed Jack, as they were on their way over the Rhine again.
"Couldn't have been better," conceded Tom. "And, best of all, we have dad with us."
"How did it all happen?" asked Jack.
"I don't know. We'll hear the story when we are safe in France."
And safe they were as the gray morning broke. They arrived just as the crew of the other plane were relating, with sorrow, the fall of Tom, Jack and their comrades, and the rejoicing was great when it was known they were safe, and had not only outwitted the Huns, but had brought away a most important prisoner.
"And now let's hear how it all happened," begged Major de Trouville, when the injured had been made as comfortable as possible. There were three of these, and one dead on the plane that returned first.
The story of the attack on the German base was given in detail, and then Mr. Raymond took up the tale from the point where he had landed in Europe.
He had started for Paris, just as he had written Tom, and had taken lodgings in the Rue Lafayette. He went out just before the starting of the bombardment by the big gun, and so escaped injury, but he fell into the hands of some German spies, who were on his trail, and who succeeded, after having drugged him, in getting him into Germany.
The spies had succeeded in getting on the trail of a new invention Mr. Raymond had perfected, and which he had offered to the Allies. He had come to Paris on this business. The Huns demanded that he devote it to their interests, but he refused, and he had been held a prisoner over the Rhine, every sort of pressure being brought to bear on him to make him accede to the wishes of his captors.
"But I refused," he said, "and they decided I should be shot. Whether this was bluff or not I don't know. But they never got a chance at me. In the night I heard, in my prison, the sound of explosions, and I soon realized what had happened. It was your bold airship raid, and one of the bombs burst my prison. I ran out and saw the Italian planes in the air.
"What then happened you know better than I, but what you probably do not know is that you very likely owe your lives to a dispute that arose between the German infantry and the air squadron division," and he indicated Tom, Jack and the others who had been in the stockade.
"How was that?" asked Jack.
"The airmen claimed you as their prey, and the infantrymen said they were entitled to call you theirs. So, even in the midst of the fire and destruction, the commandant had to order you put in the stockade until he could decide whose prisoners you were. The infantrymen said they had captured you, but the airmen said their fire had brought down your plane."
"Well, that was partly true," said Tom. "But it was an explosion from below that knocked us out temporarily. But we're all right now. And so are you, aren't you, Dad?"
"Yes, but I worried a lot, not knowing what had happened to you, Tom, and being unable to guess what would happen to me. I was in the hands of clever and unscrupulous enemies. How clever they were you can judge when I tell you they took me right out of Paris. Perhaps the bombardment made it easier. But tell me—what of the big guns?"
"Some of them are out of commission, thanks to your brave boy and his comrades," said Major de Trouville.
"Good!" cried Mr. Raymond. "Some rumor to that effect sifted in to me there, but it seemed too good to be true. The Germans must be wild with rage."
"I guess they are," admitted Jack.
"And it would have gone hard with you if they had found you were the ones responsible," went on Tom's father. "As soon as I was out of my prison and saw the state of affairs, I managed to get the grenades, and I decided to rescue the airship men if I could. I never dreamed my own son would be among them, or that I might be brought away."
And now it but remains to add that because of their exploits Tom and Jack received new honors at the hands of the grateful French, and, moreover, were promoted.
Mr. Raymond, who had steadfastly refused to reveal the secret of his invention to the Huns, immediately turned it over to the Allies.
Word of Mr. Raymond's safety and of the success of Tom and Jack was sent to those in Bridgeton, and that city had new reasons for being proud of her sons.
But the war was not over, and the Germans might be expected to develop other forms of frightfulness besides the long-range guns, which, for the time being, were silenced. However, the destruction of the factories and ammunition stores by the raid over the Rhine was a blow that told heavily on the Hun.
"Well, it seems there's another vacation coming to us," said Tom to Jack one morning, as they walked away from the breakfast table in their mess.
"Yes? Well, I think we can use it. What do you say to a run into Paris to see your father? He's surely there now, and I'd like to have a talk with him."
"With—him?" asked Tom, and there was a peculiar smile on his face.
"Of course," said Jack.
"Oh," was all Tom answered, but he laughed heartily.
And so, with Tom and Jack on their way to Paris, for a brief respite from the war, we will take leave of them for a time. That they were destined to take a further part in the great struggle need not be doubted, for the Air Service boys were not the ones to quit until the world had been made a decent place in which to live.