The din soon became general, one after another of the American planes joining in the battle. The German aircraft held off a little, fighting from afar, evidently thinking to accomplish their ends without taking too much risk. Had they boldly assaulted, doubtless the result would have been much more disastrous to both sides.
The big bombers had but one object in view, which was to bomb the important target below. To drop an explosive on a certain spot had been the most important training of those aboard these craft. They had been carefully selected from the ranks of the many observers taking service in the aviation branch of the service; and great things were expected of them now.
The Huns had concentrated the glare of numerous searchlights on the hub of the squadron's activities, so that the speeding planes could be seen darting hither and thither like bats during an August evening, darting around some arc-light in the street.
The flash of the distant guns aboard the planes looked like faint fire-flies in action. No longer was the earth wrapped in darkness, for flares dropped by the bombers kept continually on fire. The bridge stood plainly out, and a keen eye, even without the aid of glasses, could distinguish the rush of terrorized German troopers trying to get clear of the danger zone before a well directed bomb struck home.
Jack, leaning from his seat, took all this in. He was keyed to the top-notch by what he saw and heard. Tame indeed did most other incidents of the past appear when compared with this most stupendous event.
"Wow!" burst from his lips, as a sudden brilliant flash below told that the first huge bomb had struck; but with all that racket going on around of course no ordinary human voice could have been heard.
He could see that it had not been a successful attempt, for the bomb struck the ground at some little distance away from the terminus of the structure spanning the river. However, it did considerable damage where it fell, and created no end of alarm among those who were near by.
As yet the Air Service Boys had not been engaged with any of the hostile planes, though most of the other Yankee pilots seemed to be having their hands full in meeting and repelling fierce attacks.
Both kept in readiness for work should their turn come, Tom manipulating the plane, and Jack working the rapid-fire gun which he had learned to handle so cleverly.
Strangely enough, Jack, as he looked, was reminded of a vast circus which he had once attended, and where tumblers, athletes, and trained animals were all performing in three rings at the same time. He had found it utterly impossible to watch everything that went on, and remembered complaining lustily afterwards in consequence.
Now there were some eleven rings in all, besides what was taking place thousands of feet below, where the bombs had started to burst, tearing great gaps in the ground close to the bridge, and causing the water itself to gush upward like spouting geysers.
Lower still dropped the venturesome pilots guiding the destinies of the four huge bombers. What chances they were taking, bent only on succeeding in the important task to which they had been assigned!
Jack knew he would never forget that dreadful crisis, no matter if he were allowed to live to the age of Methuselah; such an impression did it make upon his mind.
But their turn came at length, for in the dim light two big Gothas were discovered swinging in toward them as though bent on bringing about the destruction of the Yankee battleplane.
Jack forgot about what was taking place below, since all of his energies must now be directed toward beating off this double attack. It had come to the point of self-preservation. The Hun airmen were playing a prearranged game of hunting in couples. While one made a feint at attacking, the other expected to take advantage of an exposure and inflict a fatal blow that would send the American aeroplane whirling to death.
Jack saw when the nearest plane opened fire. The spitting flame told him this, for it darted out like the fiery tongue of a serpent. He also realized that the bullets were cutting through space all around them; and a splinter striking his arm announced the fuselage of the plane had already been struck, showing the gunner had their range.
Then Jack began work on his own account, not meaning to let the fight become one-sided. His duty was to pepper any of the enemy craft that came within range, regardless of consequences. To Tom must be left the entire running of the plane motor, as well as the maneuvering that would form a part of the affray.
Heedless of what was taking place around them, the two chums devoted their attention to the task of baffling the designs of their two foes. Wonderfully well did Tom manage his aerial steed. They swung this way and that, dipped, rose, and cut corners in a dizzying fashion in the endeavor to confuse the aim of the Hun marksmen.
Once Jack experienced a sudden sinking in the region of his heart. There was a strange movement to the plane that made him fear the motor had been struck. He also missed the cheery hum at the same time, and felt a sickening sensation of falling.
But immediately he realized that Tom was only executing his pet drop, the nose-dive. One of the Huns followed them down, just as a hawk-might pursue its prey. When the American plane came out of the dive at the new level Jack saw that the Hun was closer than ever, and once again starting to bombard them.
At least they now had only a single adversary to deal with, which could be reckoned a point gained. Most of the fighting was going on above them, but Jack believed the bombers must be somewhere near by, possibly at a still lower level.
Again the maneuvering, or jockeying, for position commenced. In this air duel the pilot who knew his business best was going to come out ahead. It might be they were opposed by some celebrated German ace with a long list of victories to his credit, which would render their chances smaller.
Tom, however, seemed to be keeping up his end wonderfully well. The hissing missiles cut through the canvas of their wings, beat upon the side of the fuselage, and even nipped the Air Service Boys more than once as they stormed past. Neither of the boys knew whether they were seriously wounded or not; all they could do was to fight on and on, until something definite had been achieved on one side or the other.
Once Jack felt something blinding him, and putting up a hand discovered that it was wet; yet he was not conscious of having been struck in the head by a passing bullet. Dashing his sleeve across his eyes he shut his jaws still tighter together, and continued to play his gun as the opportunity arose.
They were coming to closer quarters, and the issue of the battle, however dreadful the result, could not be much longer delayed, Jack knew.
Then it happened, coming like a flash of lightning from the storm cloud!
"Tom, we've done it!" Jack shrieked, when he saw the enemy Gotha plane take a sudden significant dip and flutter downward like a stricken bird.
Evidently a shot more fortunate than any that had preceded it had struck a vital part of the rival craft, putting the motor suddenly out of repair.
When he felt his plane begin to crumple up under him the Hun pilot had commenced to strive frantically to recover control. Jack, horror-stricken by what was happening, leaned over and watched his struggle, which he knew was well nigh hopeless from the beginning.
Still the German ace made a valiant effort to avoid his fate. He could be seen working madly to keep from overturning, but apparently his hour had struck, for the last Jack saw of the beaten Gotha it was turning topsy-turvy, falling like a shooting star attracted to the earth by the law of gravitation.
That affair being over, Jack, breathing hard, now allowed himself to pay some attention to what was going on in other quarters. At the same time he proceeded to introduce a fresh belt of cartridges into the hungry maw of the machine gun, in case they were forced into another engagement.
Above them the battle still raged, though of course Jack could not decide which side might be getting the better of it. His interest focused chiefly on the bombing machines, which he found were now far away, moving along in erratic courses as their pilots strove to get in exact position for a successful blowing up of the bridge.
Jack could count only three of them. Unless the fourth had wandered far afield it looked as though disaster had overtaken its crew. No matter, even such a catastrophe must not deter those remaining from seeking by every means in their power to reach their objective.
Even as he stared downward Jack saw another of those brilliant flashes that proclaimed the bursting of a bomb. He felt a sense of chagrin steal over him, because so far no explosive seemed to have succeeded in attaining the great end sought. The bridge still stood intact, if deserted, for he could catch glimpses of it when the smoke clouds were drifted aside by the night breeze.
Fires were now burning in several quarters, started undoubtedly by some of the bombs that had missed their intended objective. These lighted up the scene and gave it a weird, almost terrifying aspect as witnessed from far above.
All at once Jack saw some bulky object pass between their machine and the ground below. It must be the missing bomber, he concluded, though the realization of the fact made him thrill all over in admiration of the nerve of those who could accept such terrible chances.
Yes, despairing of getting in a telling blow at such a height, the reckless crew of the big Yankee plane had actually dropped down until they could not be more than a thousand feet from the earth. And now they were speeding forward, meaning to test their skill at such close quarters.
Not being able to make Tom hear his voice, Jack gave the other a tug, and so managed to call his attention to what was passing below. Just in time did Tom look, for at that very moment there came another of those amazing brilliant illuminations, and the dull roar greeted their ears a few seconds afterwards.
They saw with staring eyes the air filled with the material that had once constituted the wonderful bridge, across which day and night the retreating Huns were taking their valuable guns and stores. A brief space of time did the scene bear the aspect of chaos, and then, when the smoke cleared sufficiently for them to see, they looked upon a void where the bridge had stood.
Jack fell back appalled, yet quivering with deepest satisfaction. Their raid would be one of triumph, since the main object had now been achieved.
Hardly had he allowed himself to exult after this fashion than Jack discovered that Tom seemed to be greatly agitated. So he once more looked down, filled with a sudden fear lest the gallant fighters in that adventurous bomber had paid dearly for their success.
He immediately saw that his alarm was not groundless. The big Yankee plane must have been struck in some vital part, for it was rapidly sinking as though doomed. Jack's only consolation lay in the fact that the crew seemed to be in better luck than those of the stricken Gotha; for they managed to keep from turning turtle; and unless striking the ground with too great violence might yet come out of the affair alive, even though finding themselves prisoners of war.
Tom was already striking for the upper levels. He saw that the other three bombers had also commenced to climb, since their mission was now carried out, and further risks would be only a needless hazard. Then, too, the crews of the battle Gothas, realizing that they had failed to save the bridge, concluded to withdraw from the combat, leaving the Americans to make their way back to their starting point, victorious and rejoicing.
Yes, there was the signal flashing from the plane of the commander, which meant that the raiding squadron should assemble above the reach of the crackling shrapnel, and prepare in a body for the homeward journey.
A sense of exultation, mingled with sincere thankfulness, gripped the hearts of the two Air Service Boys as they realized that the peril was now really a thing of the past. The homeward trip would be a mere bagatelle, for surely no Huns would venture to attack them while on the way. By exercising good judgment they ought also to keep above the reach of those elevated anti-aircraft guns along the front hills.
Now Jack remembered the temporary blinding sensation. He found on investigating that he had been near a serious accident, since a passing bullet had grazed his head, cutting the skin and causing quite a copious flow of blood.
"What's happened to you?" called out the alarmed Tom, on seeing that the other was binding his handkerchief about his head.
"Another scratch, that's all," replied Jack, as though that were only a matter of course, to be expected when modern knights of the upper air currents sallied forth bent on adventure. "A miss is as good as a mile, you know, Tom. And I guess I have a hard head in the bargain. It's all right, nothing to worry over. Fortunately it didn't strike me in the face, and mar my beauty any."
Jack could joke under almost any serious conditions; but Tom felt relieved to know the worst. They were at the time back again in their appointed place, tailing the procession.
Counting again as best he could, Jack discovered that there were only seven of the battleplanes in the double line now. It looked very much as though the loss of the big bomber was not the only penalty they had paid for their daring raid. But no doubt the story would all be told after the flight was over and the various pilots and observers could get together to compare notes.
Again were they subjected to a bombardment when they sailed over the German front lines; but this time, taking a lesson from their previous experience, they maintained such an altitude that no shrapnel was able to reach them.
Shortly afterward, and one by one, the battered Yankee planes dropped on the open field where the hangars lay, like huge buzzards alighting to satisfy their hunger in an orgy.
The first thing Tom did when he and Jack found themselves again on their feet and the waiting mechanics and hostlers looking after their plane, was to reach out and seize upon his chum's hand.
"We've got good reason to congratulate ourselves on coming through that nasty business so well, Jack," he said earnestly. "If you look at our machine you'll see how near we came a dozen times to cashing in our checks. They knocked us up pretty well, for a fact."
"I should say they did," admitted Jack, as he examined the various marks showing where the Hun bullets had punctured different parts of the wings, or struck the fuselage, narrowly missing both the motor and the partly protected petrol supply tank.
They lingered around for a full hour, there was so much to talk about as they gathered in groups and compared experiences, as well as commented on the possible fate of their fellow aviators who had failed to return.
In spite of the loss incurred, the achievement accomplished was of such a character as to fill them with pardonable pride. No member of that historical night raid, whereby the retreat of the Germans was so badly handicapped by the loss of the big bridge, would ever have cause to blush for his part in the bold undertaking.
Finally the two chums, finding themselves exhausted and in need of sleep, broke away from the chattering throng and sought their bunks in the former Hun dugout. All was now silence around them, the enemy batteries having ceased sending over even occasional shells; and they were able to enjoy a few hours of rest undisturbed by having the roof of their shelter damaged by a chance explosion.
On the following morning the advance was resumed, the same tactics being employed that had met with such success all through the Argonne. Wherever they discovered that machine-gun nests had been placed these were "mopped-up" by surrounding them, and then attacking from the rear, while the attention of the defenders of the stone house, or it might be a windmill foundation, was gripped by a pretense at frontal assault.
Those who had participated in the air raid on the bridge were given a day off, so as to recuperate. They felt that they deserved it, for the destruction of that bridge was apt to be a serious stumbling-block in the path of the retreating Huns, one that might cost them dearly in the way of prisoners and lost artillery.
Jack utilized this opportunity by striving to learn important facts in connection with the matter that was weighing so heavily on his mind. He absented himself from the dugout which the air pilots continued to occupy and which they disliked giving up until assured of some other half-way decent billet in a village that might be abandoned by Fritz when falling back.
Of course Jack had to have his slight wounds attended to, and in order to make sure that he had not neglected this before going off, Tom, during the morning, found it absolutely necessary to wander over to the field hospital, where of course he looked up Nellie.
Really it took almost a full hour for him to make all the inquiries he considered essential; and he might have consumed a still longer time but that there was a call for the nurse's services, and she had to excuse herself.
"Never mind," said Tom grimly to himself, as he made his way back to the old dugout, "it was well worth the walk. And Nellie is looking fine, for a fact. They call her the most popular nurse at the front, and I've heard fellows in plenty say that if ever they got knocked out by Hun bullets they'd want nothing better than to have her take care of them."
He did not find Jack anywhere around when he got back, nor had those he asked seen anything of him since early morning. Of course Tom knew what it was that engaged the attention of his comrade, and he only hoped Jack might not meet with any bad luck in his endeavor to learn something of the movements of his cousin, Randolph Carringford.
Then came the afternoon. From indications Tom fancied that would be their last night in the old dugout. The Huns were still falling back, and word had been going around that by another day the Yankees would undoubtedly occupy the village that lay just beyond the hills where the bursting shrapnel had ascended on the occasion of the passage of the air squadron.
It was about four o'clock when Tom sighted his chum. Jack's face was gloomy, and he lacked his customary sprightliness of walk.
As he came up he tried to smile, but it was a rank failure.
"Well," he said disconsolately, "the very worst has happened, Tom. I've managed to get word after trying for hours, and have learned that my cousin sailed yesterday from Havre. He's beat me to it, and I've lost out!"
"Are you sure about that?" asked Tom, though at the same time realizing that Jack was not the one to give in easily, and must have used every avenue for gaining information before reaching this condition of certainty.
"There's not the slightest reason to doubt it, I tell you, Tom," Jack replied slowly, shaking his head at the same time to emphasize his sorrowful feelings in the matter. "I asked particularly, and the word came that a passenger named Randolph Carringford had sailed yesterday on theLa Bretagnefor New York."
"Then that point seems settled," admitted Tom, though disliking to acknowledge the fact. "Still, something might happen to prevent his reaching New York City, or Virginia."
"What could stop him, since I'm utterly powerless to do anything?" askedJack, still unconvinced.
"Well," continued the would-be comforter, "vessels have started out before this and never arrived at their destination. Take theLusitaniafor instance. More than ever are the Hun submersibles on the job these critical days, for their commanders know they've almost got to their last gasp."
"No such luck for me, I'm afraid, Tom," sighed the other, quickly adding: "And for that matter I wouldn't want to profit at the expense of the lives of others. So I hope the French boat gets safely past the closed zone, no matter what it costs me personally. But it galls me to feel how helpless I am. If my hands were tied this minute I couldn't be worse off."
"Are you sure cabling would do no good, if we could manage to send an urgent message?"
"Nothing will do except my presence there in person before Randolph can present himself, thanks to our uncle's foolish will that puts a premium on rascality. Yes, it's a bitter pill I have to swallow. I'd do anything under the sun if only I could hope to beat that scheming cousin out! But it's useless; so I'll just have to grin and bear it."
"I wish I had any suggestion to offer," remarked Tom; "but to tell the truth I don't see what you can do but wait and see what happens. We've got our applications for leave in, and some influential friends pulling wires to help us through. Something may turn up at the last minute."
"It's mighty fine of you to say that, though I know you're only trying to keep me from discouragement."
"See who's coming, will you?" suddenly ejaculated Tom.
Even before he looked the other could give a shrewd guess as to the identity of the person approaching, for Tom seemed unduly pleased.
"It's Nellie, as sure as anything," muttered Jack. "I wonder what's brought her over here. You don't imagine anything could have happened to Bessie or Mrs. Gleason—the Huns haven't been trying to bomb any 'Y' huts or hospitals lately, have they, Tom?"
"Not that I've heard," came the ready answer. "And besides, I had the pleasure of chatting with Nellie for a whole hour this morning. You see I got a bit anxious about you; was afraid you'd neglected to step over and get those cuts attended to as you'd promised; so to make sure I wandered across."
"Of course you did!" jeered Jack. "And if that excuse hadn't held water there were plenty more shots in the locker! But never mind; here's Nellie hurrying toward us. Doesn't she look rather serious, Tom?"
"We'll soon know what's in the wind," was the answer, as the pretty RedCross nurse hastened to join the two boys.
"You didn't expect to see me again so soon, I imagine, Tom," she said as she came up, trying to catch her breath at the same time, for she had evidently hurried.
"No, I must say I didn't dream I'd have that pleasure, Nellie," replied the air pilot, as he took her hand in his and squeezed it. "But something unusual must have brought you all the way over here, I imagine."
"Well, it was, Tom," she told him.
"It isn't safe either," continued Tom, "for you to be abroad. The Huns are likely to begin long range shelling any minute, and the road's a favorite target for their gunners; they've got it's range down fine."
"It isn't about Bessie, I hope?" ventured Jack, still more or less apprehensive.
Nellie looked at him and slightly smiled, for she knew Jack was exceedingly fond of the young girl.
"Bessie is perfectly well," she assured him; "and when I passed the Y hut she and her mother were helping some of the Salvation Army girls make a fresh heap of doughnuts. But my coming does concern you, Jack."
"Please explain what you mean by that?" he begged her, while his face lighted up with interest, showing that for the moment his troubles, lately bearing so heavily upon him, were forgotten.
"I will, and in as few words as possible," she answered, "for my time is limited. I left several cases to be cared for by a nurse who has not had as thorough a training as she might have had, and the responsibility lies with me. But I can give you five minutes before I start back again."
Needless to say Nellie by this time had both boys fairly agog with curiosity, for neither of them could give the slightest guess as to the nature of the news she was bringing.
"You see, they were bringing in a lot of fresh cases," she explained, "for there has been some furious fighting going on this morning, as our boys drove in to chase the Huns out of the village. Among the number of wounded, one man among others fell into my care. His name is Bertrand Hale, and I think both of you know him."
Tom and Jack exchanged looks.
"We have met him many times," said the former; "but I can't say that he has ever been a friend of ours. He's rather a wild harum-scarum sort of chap—I imagine his own worst enemy, for he drinks heavily when he can get it, and spends much of the time in the guard-house. Still, they say he's a fighter, every inch of him, and has done some things worth mentioning."
"I imagine you describe him exactly, Tom," Nellie told him. "Very well, this time he's in a pretty bad way, for he has a number of serious injuries, and, besides has lost his left arm, though it's possible he may pull through if his constitution hasn't been weakened too much through dissipation."
"But what about Bertrand Hale, Nellie? Did he tell you anything that would be of interest to us?" asked Tom.
"I can see that you're beginning to suspect already, Tom," she continued."For that is exactly what happened. He kept following me with his eyes asI moved around doing my work, after taking care of him. Then he beckonedto me, and asked whether I wasn't a particular friend of Jack Parmly andTom Raymond.
"Of course I assured him it was so, and with that he looked so very eager that I knew he had a secret to tell me. This is the gist of what he said, boys. Just four days ago he was approached by a man he didn't know, who managed to get some strong drink into his hands, and after Hale had indulged more than he ought made a brazen proposition to him.
"It was to the effect that he was willing to pay a certain sum to have you boys injured so that you would be laid up in the hospital for weeks. He had gained the promise first of all that Bertrand would never say a word about what he meant to tell him.
"Although he admitted that his mind was hardly clear at the time, still Bertrand assured me he had repelled the offer with indignation, and even threatened to beat up his tempter unless he took himself off. The man hurried away, and then in the excitement of the order for his battalion to go over the top, Bertrand Hale forgot all about it.
"From that time on it was nothing but fighting and sleeping for him, so he had no time even to think of warning you. Then he got into the mess this morning that finished him. With that arm gone he's done with fighting, he knows, even if he pulls through.
"It was the sight of me that made him remember, for he said he surely had seen me with one of you boys several times. And so he confessed, begging me to get word to you, so that if the unknown schemer did find a tool to carry out his evil plots you would be on your guard.
"I could not wait after hearing that, but came as fast as I could, fearing you might have set out again and that something would go wrong with your plane. That is the story simply told, Tom. Can you guess why any one should wish to do either of you such a wrong as that?"
"What you tell us, Nellie," said Tom soberly, "clears up one mystery we've been puzzling over."
Then he rapidly sketched what they had discovered on the preceding night, when they had arrived at the hangar prepared to go forth with the raiders, only to learn that some unknown person had been meddling with their plane.
"So it looks as if Bertrand's refusal to play the dirty game didn't prevent that man from finding some one who was willing to sell his soul for money," was the way Tom wound up his short story.
Nellie was appalled. Her pretty face took on an expression of deepest anxiety, showing how much she cared should ill-fortune attend these good friends of hers.
"How can such wickedness exist when war had made so many heroes among our boys?" she mourned. "But you must be doubly on your guard, both of you. Tell me, can you guess why this unknown person should want to injure you?"
"Simply to keep me from setting out for America," said Jack bitterly. "Let me describe my cousin Randolph to you, Nellie; and then tell me if what Bertrand said about the unknown man would correspond to his looks."
After she had heard his accurate description Nellie nodded her head.
"He saw very little of his face, so he said. Bertrand only said the other was a man of medium build, with a soft voice that made him think of silk and then too he had a trick of making gestures with his left hand, just as you've said your cousin does. Yes, something tells me your guess is close to the mark; but he must be a very wicked man to attempt such a dreadful thing."
"Worse than I ever thought," admitted Jack grimly. "But after all nothing came of his lovely scheme; nor did it matter, since he's given me the slip, and is right now almost a third of the way across the sea. I'm like a race-horse left at the post."
"Whatever you do, Jack, don't lose the fine courage that has been your mainstay through other troubles," Nellie said, as she laid a hand on his arm and looked steadfastly into the young air-pilot's face.
"Thank you, Nellie, for your confidence in me," he continued, showing some of his old spirit again. "I ought to be ashamed to give in so easily. Yes, Tom and I have been in plenty of bad scrapes, and pulled out just because we set our teeth and refused to admit we were down and out. So I'm going to try the same dodge in this case, and not acknowledge defeat until the ninth inning is through, and the last man down."
"Good-bye, both of you, and remember, no matter what comes some of us are always thinking of you and praying for your safety."
With these words, long remembered by both boys, Nellie gave each of them her hand, and hurried away before they could see how her eyes dimmed with the gathering mists.
"A brave girl," said Tom, with considerable vigor, as he tenderly watched her retreating figure and waved his hand when he saw her turn to blow a farewell kiss in their direction.
"Yes," said Jack, heaving a sigh. "She and Bessie seem to be our good angels in this bad mess of war, Tom. I feel better after hearing her words of encouragement; but all the same I'm still groping in the dark. How am I going to beat Randolph across the Atlantic? For once I wish I had wings, and might fly across the sea like a bird. How quickly I'd make the start."
Tom realized that for once his chum was completely broken up, and hardly knew which way to turn for help. This told him that if anything were done to relieve the desperate situation it would have to originate with him.
"Stick to your programme, Jack, and don't give up the ship. Until you know that Randolph has reached the other side, and entered into possession of the property, there's still some hope left."
"Yes, a fighting chance. And I must hang to it like a leech," admitted the other, trying to smile, but making a sorry mess of it.
"How do we know what the good fairy may do for you, so as to outwit the villain of the piece?" continued Tom. "While it isn't a pleasant thing to speak of, still some marauding undersea boat may lie in wait for his ship, and in the sinking who can tell what fate may overtake your cousin?"
"It would only serve him right if he did go down like others, a thousand times nobler than Randolph, have done before now," grumbled Jack; and somehow the vague possibility excited him, for his eyes began to sparkle and take on a look that told Tom he was seeing the whole thing before his mental vision.
For a purpose Tom chose to encourage this supposition; it would have the effect of building up Jack's sinking hopes, and just then that was the main thing. So Tom proceeded to picture the scene, having plenty of material from which to draw, for he had read the details of more than one submarine sinking.
"It must be a terrible sensation to any passenger, no matter how brave he may think himself," he went on to say, "when he feels the shock as a torpedo explodes against the hull of the steamer and knows that in a short time she is doomed to be swallowed by the sea. And you told me once yourself, Jack, that this scheming cousin of yours couldn't swim a stroke."
"Worse even than that!" declared Jack, with a sneer on his face to express his contempt, "he's a regular coward about the water. And if they do have the hard luck to run up against a Hun torpedo, Randolph will be frightened half to death."
"Queer," commented Tom, "how most of these schemers prove to have a yellow streak in their make-up, when the test really comes. Just picture him running screaming up and down the deck, and being kicked out of the way by every officer of the vessel when he implores them to save him."
"I can see it all as plain as day!" cried Jack excitedly. "And if I know human nature the chances are those sailors would think of the coward last of all."
"Yes, they'd leave him to the sinking ship if there was no room in the boats, you can depend on that, Jack. And now set your teeth as you usually do, and tell me again that you're not going to own up beaten until the umpire says the game is over."
"I do promise you, Tom," came the immediate response, showing that Jack was getting a fresh grip on his sinking courage and hopes. "But all the same, I keep on groping, and I'd like to see the light."
"For a change of subject," Tom observed, "shall we tell LieutenantBeverly about your troubles? I've just glimpsed him coming this way."
"No reason why we shouldn't," agreed Jack. "He's a good friend of mine and three heads might be better than two in cracking this hard nut I'm up against. But he looks as if he might be bringing us news. Ten to one he's going to say the way is cleared for us to take that long trip with him to Berlin and back in his big Martin bomber."
"Too bad to disappoint him," remarked Tom. "But of course that's out of the question now."
"I'd have been glad of the chance to go, only for this sudden complication in my own affairs," Jack sighed. "But why couldn't you take the spin in his company, Tom? It's a pity to break up his plans."
"And desert my chum when he's in trouble? I'd never forgive myself for doing such a thing. The lieutenant will have to find some other pals for his record making Berlin and back flight."
Jack thought he detected a vein of regret in his comrade's voice, and he quickly flashed:
"You're disappointed, of course, Tom; you've been counting on that trip all the while, because its daring and dash appealed to you, just as they did to me."
"Forget it, please," urged Tom sturdily. "It was only a dream, and, after all, perhaps it couldn't be carried out. For all we know it may be the best thing in the world for us that we're prevented from starting; for such a long flight is a great risk, and might end our careers."
"Well, here's the lieutenant," said Jack, turning to greet the newcomer, and striving to look natural, though it cost him a great effort.
"I've hurried here as fast as I could!" exclaimed Beverly, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. "I wanted to bring the good news before you received it officially."
"What's that?" demanded Jack, turning a puzzled look toward his chum.
"Why, when they notified me I could have three weeks' leave of absence from duty, with no question concerning my movements during the interim, I chanced to learn that your request had also been granted. Both of you will be free, don't you understand? and the big game is now open to us."
"Well, that's certainly good news you've brought us, Lieutenant Beverly," said Tom, accepting the other's extended hand which was offered in congratulation. "I suppose you're counting now on getting that long flight off your mind? I regret to tell you I fear it's hull down in the distance for the two of us!"
"What! You haven't flunked, Tom? I'd never believe either of you could go back on me like that," cried the other, looking sorely distressed and bitterly disappointed.
"Circumstances over which we have no control," continued Tom, while Jack hung his head and looked gloomy, "have arisen to knock our plans galley-west. Much as we'd be pleased to make the game, we simply can't do it."
"But the bomber is all ready and waiting!" gasped Lieutenant Beverly. "And we're having a vacation extended to us, with no red tape or strings tied to the conditions! Why, the track is cleared for the biggest flight on record, and now you tell me you'll have to drop out. See here, what's this mean? There's something queer about it all, I know."
"Just what there is, Lieutenant," remarked Jack, looking him squarely in the eye, "and it's only right you should know the reason. Tom might go along with you, but he absolutely refuses to leave me alone to fight against the slickest scoundrel living. Now listen, and I'll sketch the whole story for you."
This he proceeded to do rapidly, omitting nothing that seemed of moment. When the meddler's secret work in tampering with their plane before they went up on the night raid was mentioned, the flight lieutenant's eyes flashed with indignation. Being a pilot himself he could appreciate such rank treachery better than any layman could.
"That's how the land lies," said Jack in conclusion. "And you understand now just why we must disappoint you, and make you look elsewhere for two companions on your trip to Berlin to frighten the Huns. It breaks my heart to decline, but this other matter must take my whole attention."
"You don't blame Jack, do you?" asked Tom.
"I should say not!" came the ready answer, accompanied by a keen look, first at Jack and then at the other, as a dazzling idea suddenly flashed into Beverly's mind. "Business before pleasure, every time with me; and it's only right you should devote every atom of your mind and body to beating that skunk to the post."
"We've settled on that policy all right," said Jack. "The only trouble is we haven't so far found a remedy to overcome his long lead; for he's got almost two days' run head of me, you understand."
Tom saw the lieutenant smile broadly and draw a long breath. Then something seemed to grip his heart as he heard Beverly say:
"Hold on! I've got an inspiration, boys. Perhaps there may be a way open to beat him to it yet!"
"Tell us what you mean, please?" begged the excited Jack.
"Take things coolly, to begin with," warned the other; "because what I'm going to say will almost stun you at first, I suppose. But it's no new idea with me. Fact is, I'd planned it all out in my mind long ago; had it more than half arranged at the time I ordered that monster Martin bomber built at my own expense and shipped over to France."
"Yes," muttered Jack, while he kept his eyes glued hungrily on the flushed face of the other.
Tom said nothing, but looked as though he already half guessed what was coming, if the eager and expectant gleam in his eyes signified anything.
"I explained to you," the lieutenant continued steadily, "that the big bomber was equipped for a trip to Berlin and back; and went so far as to say the flight could berepeated without making a landing, if there was any need of such a thing. All right, then; in a pinch, properly loaded with plenty of gasoline and stores, that machine would be able to take three fellows like you two and myself all the way across the Atlantic, and land us on American soil! Get that, do you, Jack?"
No one said a word for half a minute. The proposition was so astounding that it might well have appalled the stoutest heart. At that time no one had attempted to cross the Atlantic in a heavier-than-air plane, a feat later on successfully accomplished. Nobody had piloted the way in a Yankee-made seaplane; nor had any one navigated the air passage in a monster dirigible. The three thousand miles of atmosphere lying between Europe and America still stood an uncharted sea of vapor, where every imaginable evil might lie in wait for the modern Columbus of aerial navigation.
Then Jack drew a long breath. The lieutenant was watching the play of emotion across his face, and he knew the seed had been sown in good ground, where it was bound to take root. Jack's extremity would be his, Lieutenant Beverly's, opportunity. So he returned to the attack, meaning to "strike while the iron was hot."
"It staggers you at first, of course, Jack," he said, in his confident, convincing way. "But why should it? The danger is great, but nothing more than we're up against every day we set out for the clouds to give battle to a tricky Hun ace, who may send us down to our death. And I assure you we'd have at least a fighting chance to get across. What do you say, Jack?"
For answer the other whirled on his chum. His face was lighted up with that sudden and unexpected renewal of hope, just when it had seemed as though he had fallen into the pit of despair.
"Tom, would it be madness, do you think?" he cried, clutching the other by the arm, his fingers trembling, his eyes beseeching.
"We'd have a fair chance of making it, just as Colin says," Tom slowly answered. "Much would of course depend on contrary winds; and there'd be fighting in the fog banks we'd surely strike. But Jack,—"
"Yes, Tom?" gasped the other, hanging on his chum's words eagerly, as one might to the timbers of a slender bridge that offered a slim chance to reach a longed-for harbor.
"If you decide to accept the venture I'm with you!" finished Tom.
At that the eager flight lieutenant showed the utmost enthusiasm.
"Call it settled then, Jack, so we can get busy working out the programme!" he begged, again insisting upon gripping a hand of each.
Jack found himself carried along with the current. He could not well have resisted had he so desired, which was far from being the case. It seemed to him as though he were on a vessel which had drifted for hours in the baffling fog, and then all of a sudden the veil of mist parted, to show him the friendly shore beyond, just the haven for which he was bound.
"It is, perhaps, a desperate attempt to make such a flight on short notice," Jack said. "But think! If we succeed! And think, too, of that schemer winning the prize! Yes, Tom, since you've already agreed to stand in with me, I say—go!"
After that a fever seemed to burn in Jack's veins, due to the sudden revulsion of feeling from despair to hope. He asked many questions, and for an hour the three talked the matter over, looking at the possibilities from every conceivable angle.
Tom was not so sanguine of success as either of his mates; but he kept his doubts to himself. As an ambitious airman he was thrilled by the vastness of the scheme. As Lieutenant Beverly had truly remarked, while it held chances of disaster, they were accepting just as many challenges to meet their death every day of their service as battleplane pilots.
Then again it seemed to be the only hope offered to poor Jack; and Tom was bound to stick by his chum through thick and thin. So he fell in with the great scheme, and listened while the flight lieutenant touched upon every feature of the contemplated flight.
Luckily it was no new idea with him, for he had spent much time and labor in figuring it all out to a fraction, barring hazards of which they could of course know nothing until they were met.
"I've got all the charts necessary," he assured them, after they had about exhausted the subject, with Jack more enthusiastic than ever. "And while you boys are waiting to receive your official notifications, which ought surely to come to-morrow, since there was a hurry mark on them, I noticed, I'll rush over to the coast and see that additional supplies of fuel and food are put aboard."
"Don't stint the gas, above everything," urged Jack. "We'd be in a pretty pickle to run out while still five hundred miles from shore. If it was only a big seaplane now, such as we hear they're building over in America, we might drop down on a smooth sea and wait to be picked up by some ship; but with a bomber, it would mean going under in a hurry."
"Make your mind easy on that score, Jack," came the lieutenant's reply. "I'll figure to the limit, and then if the plane can carry another fifty gallons it'll go aboard in the reserve reservoir. I'm taking no chances that can be avoided. There'll be enough to bother us, most likely. And, for one, I'm not calculating on committing suicide. I hope to live to come back here aboard some ship, and see the finish of this big, exciting scrap."
Tom liked to hear him talk in that serene way. It showed that Lieutenant Colin Beverly, while a daring aviator was not to be reckoned a reckless one; and there is a vast difference between the two. Tom was of very much the same temperament himself, as was proved in past stirring incidents in his career, known to all those who have followed the fortunes of the Air Service Boys in previous books of this series.
"Is there anything else to confer about?" asked Tom. "Because I can see you're itching to get away, Colin."
"Not a thing, as far as I know," came the reply. "If any fresh idea happens to strike me I'll have it on tap when you arrive. Are you sure you've got the directions how to get to Dunkirk, and then how to find my secret hangar on the coast beyond the town, Tom?"
"We'll be ready to skip out just as soon as our official notice comes to hand," the other assured him.
"That's the only thing bothering me just now," observed Jack. "Any delay there might ruin our plans at the last minute. As it is, we're not apt to have any too much time to beat the steamer to New York."
"I expect you to show up to-morrow night, and then we can slip away unnoticed in the dark," said the lieutenant. "I've kept tabs on the weather conditions, as it's always been a fad with me; and I'm happy to say there seems to be no storm in prospect, while the winds are apt to be favorable, coming from the east, a rare thing these fall days. So-long, boys, and here's success to our jolly little flight!"
After he had left them Jack turned on his comrade to say:
"It seems to be our only chance, and not a long one at that; but I'm bent on trying it out. Anything to beat Randolph to the tape, Tom!"
From that hour on Jack continued in a fever of suspense. His one thought was of the coming of the official notification connected with their hoped-for leave.
Tom fancied that his chum did not get much sleep on the following night, the last both of them hoped they would have to spend in the dugout used as a billet back of the American front.
So another day found them. Jack took special delight in casting up figures connected with the case. These he would show to his chum, and make various comments. Tom, realizing how the other was endeavoring to suck consolation from this proceeding, encouraged him in it.
"By to-night," Jack said, more than once, "it will be three whole days since the steamer sailed from Havre. I've tried to find out how fast she is, and then figured that they'd have to slow down when passing through the barred zone. I reckon it will take her eight or nine days to get across."
"Oh, all of that," Tom assured him; "and it might be as many as twelve. You see, the few passenger steamers still in use haven't been in dry dock for the longest time, and their hulls must be covered with barnacles, which cuts off considerable from their speed."
Jack gave him a thankful look.
"You're the best sort of jollier, Tom," he observed. "You know how to talk to a fellow who's quivering all over with eagerness and dread. What if something happens to hold up those notices until it's too late for even Colin's big bomber to catch up with the steamer?"
"You're only borrowing trouble when you allow yourself to fear that," was the reply. "But all the same, I mean to do everything I can to get things hurried along. I'll see the general, and with your permission explain to him that there's great need of our getting word to-day."
"But, surely, you wouldn't dare hint anything about the big trip we want to take, Tom?" asked Jack, looking alarmed.
"I should say not!" came the immediate response. "If we did that, the general would consider it his duty to put his foot down on the mad scheme right away. Trust me to let him know we stand to lose out in something that concerns your whole future if the notifications are delayed beyond early this afternoon, and I'm sure he'll start the wires going to get them here."
"What can I be doing in the meanwhile?"
"You might see to making arrangements for crossing to the coast on the first train that goes out," answered Tom.
"But that's going to be slow traveling, even if we're lucky enough to get aboard," protested the other. "Tom, do you think the general would permit us to take our machine, and fly to Dunkirk?"
"Good! That's a clever idea you've hit on, Jack!" exclaimed the other. "I'll take it up with the general when I see him. He might find itconvenient, you know, to have some message sent across the country to the coast; and it would save us hours of time, perhaps win the race for us. A splendid thought, Jack!"
"Then let's hope it can be carried through," returned the other.
Tom did not lose any more time but hurried away to try to get an opportunity to talk with the kindly old general. He had always shown an interest in the fortunes of the two Air Service Boys, and they had already received favors from him on several occasions.
The minutes dragged while he was gone. Jack could not keep still, so nervous did he feel, but continued walking up and down, "like a tiger in its cage," he told himself. He ran through the entire gamut of possible troubles and triumphs in his mind, as he tried to picture the whole thing.
"What great luck to have Colin Beverly break in on us just at the time when my fortunes had reached their lowest ebb," Jack kept saying to himself.
At last Tom came back. Jack could read success in his looks, even before the other had had a chance to open his mouth and say a single word.
"It's all right then, I take it, Tom?" he exclaimed impulsively.
"Didn't have any trouble at all in interesting the general," replied the messenger joyfully. "He said he'd see to having an urgent call go out to hurry the notifications along, and almost promised they'd get here by two this afternoon."
"And how about the plane business?"
"That's all settled in the bargain. I have written permission to make use of our plane, turning it over to a certain agent in Dunkirk after we've arrived there. The general will send a message over to us which we're to deliver at the same time we give up the machine."
"Great work, Tom! I've always said you'd make a mighty fine diplomatic agent, if ever you tried, and now I know it."
"No soft-soap business, please. If it had been anybody but the general I'd have surely fallen down on my job. But you know he's always had an interest in us, Jack."
"Do you think he suspected anything?" asked the other.
"Sure he did, but notthething, for nobody in the wide world would ever dream we were planning such an unheard of thing as a non-stop flight across the Atlantic."
Tom dropped his voice to a whisper when he said this; not that there seemed to be any particular need of caution, but simply on general principles. They could not afford to take any chance of having their great plan discovered in these early stages of the game.
"Well, I don't know how I'm going to hold out much longer," complained Jack. "I can't keep still five minutes, but have to jump up and walk it off. Let's see—two o'clock you said, didn't you? That'll be nearly three long hours more. It's simply terrible, Tom! Sixty minutes in each hour!"
"But then we'll have to eat our regular midday meal, remember," Tom tried to cheer his companion up by saying. "If you prefer it, we might walk over to the field-hospital, which, by the way, I hear is to be moved ahead to-night, to keep in closer touch with the wounded straggling back from the front. The Y hut's close by, too, and we'd enjoy an hour or so with the girls. Nellie told me she expected her brother, Harry, to be back on our sector any day now, and if he should come before we clear out we'd be mighty glad to see him."
Jack hesitated.
"Gee! you do tempt a fellow, Tom," he finally remarked, as though coming to a conclusion. "Nothing I'd like better than to chat with Bessie and have a few of those Salvation Army girls' doughnuts to munch. But I guess it would be foolish in our laying off just now."
"You mean the notifications might arrive while we were gone?" remarked Tom, nodding his head, pleased because the other took such a sensible view of the matter.
"Yes. We might lose a whole hour, perhaps two, by being away," explained Jack. "That would be too bad; it might even turn out a catastrophe, if in the end that hour would save us from being beaten in the race against time."
"All right, then, we'll hang around and watch for something to come from Headquarters. The general promised me he'd have the notifications sent over without any delay just as soon as they came."
"Let's go over to the flying field and watch some of the boys come in," suggested Jack, and to this the other readily assented.
Even when an airman is off-duty his special delight lies in "hanging out" at the aviation field, seeing his fellow workers go forth, watching their return, and listening to the many thrilling accounts of battles fought, as well as perils endured.
The fascination of the sport, once it has fairly gripped a man, makes him its slave; he can think of little else; and doubtless even in dreams he fancies himself performing unusual hazards and earning the applause of the multitude.
However this proved to be a very good panacea for Jack's nervousness and they managed to put in a full hour there. Business was unusually brisk in the way of engagements; and Tom more than once secretly regretted that circumstances beyond their control caused them to miss a "whole lot of fun."
The enemy was up in the air in more ways than one on that day. Desperation on account of the blowing up of the bridge caused the German plane scouts to meet the challenges offered by the exultant Yankees, and news of many an encounter kept coming in about the time the two boys thought of leaving the field and going for their dinner.
Word had also been received of several accidents to American pilots, and it looked as though the history of that eventful day would set a new high-water mark in the way of losses.
Jack even began to fear they might be ordered to go up, which would bring about a fresh delay while communication was being established with Headquarters to verify their story. So he was really glad when Tom drew him away by suggesting that it was time they dined.
At one o'clock they were at their headquarters, killing time and waiting. Jack's nerves once more began showing signs of being frayed, or "ragged," as he called it. He jumped at the least unusual sound, and alternately looked expectant and despairing.
It was now close to two o'clock, and as yet there was no sign of relief. Jack jumped up for the twentieth time and started to walk back and forth, while others among the airmen were gathering their belongings together, preparatory to a change of base.
Then a messenger was seen hurrying toward them. Jack became almost wild with excitement, until he knew for a fact the notifications had arrived.
"And now," said Tom, "let's put for the field and get away without any further loss of time. It's a long way to Dunkirk, remember, even by way of the air line, as a bee would take it. And we must get there before dark!"
They ran part of the way, and thus presented themselves before the hangar. Ample preparations had already been made. The petrol tank had been filled, and, everything being in readiness, they would have nothing to do but jump aboard and make a quick start.
But Tom was too old a pilot to take things for granted. After that recent experience with treachery he meant to be doubly careful before risking their lives in the air. Dunkirk on the Channel was a considerable distance off; and a drop when several thousand feet above French soil would go just as hard with them as if it were German territory.
Accordingly he took a survey of the plane from tip to tip of the wings; looked over the motor, tested every strut and stay, leaving nothing to Jack, who was fairly quivering with the intensity of his feelings.
Even the longest day must come to an end, and Tom's examination was finally completed.
"Get aboard!" he told Jack. "We're in great trim to make a record flight of it. And even the breeze favors us, you notice."
"Let's hope it keeps on as it is," said Jack, quickly; "because an easterly wind will help carry us on our way to-night!"
"We'll be in luck to have such help," Tom replied. "As a rule, the passage from Europe to America meets with head winds most of the way. How are you fixed, Jack?"
"All ready here, Tom."
"Half a minute more, and I'll be the same. Take your last look for some time, Jack, at the American fighting front. We'll never forget what we've met with here, and that's a fact."
"But, Tom, we expect to come back again, if all goes well," expostulated Jack. "In fact, we've just got to, or be accused of running away. We arranged all that, you remember, and how we'd manage to get across in such a way that no one will be any the wiser for our having been out of France."
"Don't let's worry about that yet," said Tom. "The first big job is to get across the Atlantic. Ready, back there? Here goes!"
Another minute, and with a rush and a roar the plane sped along the field, took an upward slant, and set out for the coast. The first leg of the great flight had actually been started!