218CHAPTER XXVIIST. MIHIEL
“What are we going to do?” asked Bob.
“What can we do?” Ned returned.
“Let’s go after him and bring him back!” exclaimed the excitable Bob. “Maybe the Germans have him!”
“Then we’ll not easily get him,” said Jerry. “And, as a matter of fact, we can’t even try.”
“Why not?” asked Ned.
“Because we can’t leave. All furloughs have been stopped these last three days. We may go into action any minute. If the professor is in trouble we can’t help him.”
“That seems hard,” murmured Bob.
“It is,” agreed Jerry. “But it’s the fortune of war. We’re here to fight, and we’ve got to do that when the time comes. It may be that the professor has only wandered off among our own soldiers, or those of the French or English, after a butterfly or some other bug.”
“But without his hat!” exclaimed Bob.
“And gone more than a day!” added Ned.219
“Those things wouldn’t worry him,” said Jerry. “Half the time he forgets his hat, and it is midsummer now. As for being gone more than a day, he’s often spent longer than that chasing a single flea. He is used to camping out, and he’ll get along somehow. We’ll just have to let him go, that’s all.”
“I suppose so,” agreed Ned; “but it’s too bad.”
It was, but there was nothing they could do. The professor might wander into the enemy’s territory and be captured, or he might come safely back to the little French village.
“Though if he doesn’t come back what are we to do with his things and about Professor Petersen’s nieces?” asked Ned.
“The best we can,” advised Jerry.
“After the war, if we’re alive, we can look for the girls,” suggested Bob.
“Pretty slim chance of finding ’em,” murmured Ned.
“It wouldn’t do much good, anyway, if we can’t find the professor. The money was not left to us to divide,” was Jerry’s comment.
Jerry had spoken truly when he said that all leave had been stopped, for now were beginning the final great assaults of the American and Allied armies that were, if not actually to overwhelm the Huns, at least to approach so nearly that state that there was a distinction without a difference.220
And it was well that Ned, Bob, and Jerry returned to their station when they did, for not ten minutes later the general order to move forward was given up and down the long line.
“Forward!” was the battle cry—the watchword that was to guide them all. “Forward!”
Forward they went, against Germany’s best troops. Forward against a relentless and almost impregnable foe. Forward in the name of Humanity, Freedom, and Right. Forward all!
And as Ned, Bob, and Jerry marched with their comrades up to the firing lines there began that great movement of American troops which took part in the reduction of the St. Mihiel salient—the wiping out of the great wedge the Germans had driven into France. And with the wiping out of this there began the final battle—the cleaning of the Argonne Forest which brought an end to the war.
For some time General Pershing and his general staff had looked forward to the reduction of the St. Mihiel salient. With that out of the way it meant the concentration of the American divisions in their own zone.
Late in August the line, beginning at Port sur Seille, east of the Moselle, and extending to the west through St. Mihiel, thence north to a point opposite Verdun, was placed under the supervision of the American commander. Later the221American sector was extended across the Meuse to the western edge of the Argonne Forest, and included the Second Colonial French, which held the point of the salient and the Seventeenth French Corps, which occupied the heights above Verdun.
As Ned, Bob, and Jerry marched on with their comrades they saw, or became aware of, the immensity of the preparations needed to make this movement a success. For they had to move against a German position second to none in strength. To quote General Pershing:
“The preparation for a complicated operation against the formidable defenses in front of us included the assembling of divisions and of corps of army artillery, transport, aircraft, tanks, ambulances, the location of hospitals, and the molding together of all of the elements of a great modern army with its own railheads, supplied directly by our own Service of Supply. The concentration for this operation, which was to be a surprise, involved the movement, mostly at night, of approximately 600,000 troops, and required for its success the most careful attention to every detail.
“The French were generous in giving us assistance in corps and army artillery, with its personnel, and we were confident from the start of our superiority over the enemy in guns of all calibers.222Our heavy guns were able to reach Metz and to interfere seriously with German rail movements. The French Independent Air Force was placed under my command which, together with the British bombing squadrons and our air forces, gave us the largest assembly of aviation that had ever been engaged in one operation on the western front.”
It must not be imagined that all this great army went forward in a day or two, or that the battle lasted but a short time. On the other hand, it was a fight, tooth and nail, for almost every foot of the way. The battle line from Les Esparages, around the nose of the St. Mihiel salient to the Moselle River was about forty miles, and was greatly strengthened by artificial defenses. This gives some idea of the task ahead of General Pershing. If you will picture to yourself a distance from your own home, as you sit reading this, to some point distant forty miles, in the woods or mountains, and then figure this forty miles occupied by advancing troops, fighting against a ruthless foe, you will have some idea of the battle of St. Mihiel.
And it was forward into this battle that Ned, Bob, and Jerry and their comrades moved. It would be impossible to tell all that happened—of the surging forward into the face of devastating fire; of the men who fell at the sides of the chums,223killed or desperately wounded; of the terrible and awful sights they saw. For days they fought on. Gaining ground here, losing, perhaps, a little there, hiding all night in rain-filled shell-holes, being driven out, but going back to recapture them again. On and on they went.
They were weary to death, but they kept on, and, for a wonder, such is sometimes the fortune of war, neither Ned, Bob, nor Jerry was seriously wounded. They received minor knocks, scratches, and bruises, and once Bob’s cheek was grazed by a bullet. But they did not have to drop out of the fighting.
And it was fierce! No other word describes it. They fought, and fought, and fought again, onward, ever onward. For they must not stop. The American army did not know that word.
And then, after nearly two weeks of steady fighting, with only such rest for the exhausted troops as was absolutely necessary, came the final stage. Ned, Bob, and Jerry, staggering from weariness, took their places in line one gray morning.
Suddenly about them thundered great salvos of firing. It shook the very ground. The chums looked at one another in wonder.
“This must be another big show,” shouted Jerry. He had to shout to be heard above the noise.224
“It is,” said Ned.
And it was. It was the final assault against the last of the German defenses in St. Mihiel.
“Forward!” came the cry, given after four hours of the greatest artillery barrage ever laid down. At five o’clock, on the morning of September 12th, seven American divisions in the front line advanced. They were assisted by tanks, manned by Americans and French, and there were groups of wire-cutters and other groups armed with bangalore torpedoes. “These,” says General Pershing, in his report, “went through the successive bands of barbed wire that protected the enemy’s front line and support trenches, in irresistable waves on schedule time, breaking down all defenses of an enemy demoralized by the great volume of our artillery fire, and our sudden approach out of the fog.”
And forward, in their own modest and humble way, with this great army of liberation went Ned, Bob, and Jerry. Shooting and being shot at they went forward until the iron strength of the foe was broken, and the cry sounded:
“They’re running away! We’ve got ’em beat!”
And thus it was. German troops were giving way in a rout. Let General Pershing tell it in his own simple way:
“Our 1st Corps advanced to Thiacourt, while our 4th Corps curved back to the southwest225through Nonsard. The 2d Colonial French Corps made the slight advance required of it on very difficult ground, and the 5th Corps took its three ridges and repulsed a counter-attack. A rapid march brought reserve regiments of a division of the 5th Corps into Vigneulles in the early morning, where it linked up with patrols of our 4th Corps, closing the salient and forming a new line west of Thiacourt to Vigneulles and beyond Fresnes-en-Woevre. At the cost of only 7,000 casualties, mostly light, we had taken 16,000 prisoners and 443 guns, a great quantity of material, released the inhabitants of many villages from enemy domination, and established our lines in a position to threaten Metz. This signal success of the American First Army in its first offensive was of prime importance. The Allies found they had a formidable army to aid them, and the enemy learned finally that he had one to reckon with.”
And that was the battle of St. Mihiel.
226CHAPTER XXVIIIIN ARGONNE FOREST
“Well, I reckon we get a rest now, don’t we?” asked Bob of his two chums, as they were ordered to report to a certain point with others of their command.
“A rest?” cried Ned. “Say, Chunky, I’m going to take a leaf out of your book and wish for something to eat.”
“I guess we’ll get that, but I doubt if we get much rest,” put in Jerry Hopkins. “I can smell something cooking, but I don’t see ’em getting any beds ready for us.”
And Jerry proved a true prophet, for there was refreshment for the battle-worn troops—hot food which they very much needed.
“Have we got to fight some more?” asked Bob, as he ate his rations with every indication of appetite.
“I should say so!” cried Jerry. “Why, we’ve got to take the Argonne Forest yet, and that’s going to be worse than this.”
And it was.227
Without giving his divisions a rest, which he dared not do, General Pershing, on the day after the capture of St. Mihiel, sent some of them toward the area back of the line between the Meuse River and the western edge of the Forest of Argonne. Though the fighting to gain St. Mihiel had been terrific, with this out of the way the German line was still intact from Switzerland to the east of Rheims. The general attack, all along this line, was with the hope of cutting it, and the part assigned to the American armies was, as the hinge of the Allied offensive, directed toward important railway communications of the German armies through Mezieres and Sedan.
Knowing that the Germans realized what it would mean to them to lose the Argonne Forest, General Pershing and his staff made every preparation for success. To this end as much secrecy as possible marked the advance of the Americans.
Says General Pershing:
“We expected to draw the best German divisions to our front, and to consume them, while the enemy was held under grave apprehension lest our attack should break his line, which it was our firm purpose to do.”
Ringing words that will go down in history to the honor of America!
And with this advance, fighting as they went, Ned, Bob, and Jerry, and thousands of their brave228comrades, dashed forward into what was to be one of the bloodiest and most desperate engagements of the war. To let General Pershing tell the story in part, by quoting again from his wonderful report:
“On the night of September 25th our troops quietly took the place of the French who thinly held the line in this sector, which had long been inactive. In the attack which began on the 26th we drove through the barbed-wire entanglements and the sea of shell craters across No Man’s Land, mastering all the first-line defenses. Continuing on the 27th and 28th, against machine guns and artillery of an increasing number of enemy reserve divisions, we penetrated to a depth of from three to seven miles and took the village of Montfaucon and its commanding hill and Exermont, Gercourt, Cuisy, Septsarges, Malancourt, Ivoiry, Epinonville, Charpentry, Very, and other villages. East of the Meuse one of our divisions, which was with the 2d Colonial French Corps, captured Marcheville and Rieville, giving further protection to the flank of our main body. We had taken 10,000 prisoners, we had gained our point of forcing the battle into the open, and were prepared for the enemy’s reaction, which was bound to come, as he had good roads and ample railroad facilities for bringing up his artillery and reserves.229
“In the chill rain of dark nights our engineers had to build new roads across spongy, shell-torn areas, repair broken roads beyond No Man’s Land, and build bridges. Our gunners, with no thought of sleep, put their shoulders to wheels and drag-ropes to bring their guns through the mire in support of the infantry, now under the increasing fire of the enemy’s artillery. Our attack had taken the enemy by surprise, but, quickly recovering himself, he began to fire counter-attacks in strong force, supported by heavy bombardments, with large quantities of gas. From September 28th until October 4th we maintained the offensive against patches of woods defended by snipers and continuous lines of machine guns, and pushed forward our guns and transport, seizing strategical points in preparation for further attacks.”
And Ned, Bob, and Jerry had an honorable if humble part in all this. Forward they fought their way, now falling back as some fierce German resistance turned into a counter-attack and again rushing on to capture some little wooded knoll or hold some group of trees after the Hun machine gunners had been killed.
That was the worst of the fighting—against the machine guns. They were almost as thick as leaves in this Argonne Forest and the woods offered excellent protection to the enemy.
But it was fight, if not exactly in the open, more230nearly so than battles of the trenches, which the Americans hated. It was like being on their own ground, for, though the forest was in France, the trees and bushes were like those in any dense American woods.
“It’s like being with the professor on some bug-hunting trip!” yelled Bob, as he and his chums rushed on, firing as they went.
“Except it isn’t so healthy,” added Jerry. “Look out!” he shouted, and he pulled Bob down into the underbrush beside him only just in time, for there came a burst of bullets from a machine gun, concealed in a clump of trees, and but for Jerry’s timely act when he saw it, Bob might have been killed.
Then, with a yell, a company of Americans, with Ned, Bob, and Jerry aiding them, rushed on the Hun nest and wiped it out, turning the machine gun on the gray troops about them.
So the fighting went on, bitterly and terribly, as it had been going on for over a month, for this was now the beginning of October.
There came a lull in the conflict in the immediate neighborhood of the Motor Boys. They sank down exhausted on the ground under the trees, waiting for further commands, for an officer had ordered a halt.
As the captain of the company to which Ned, Bob, and Jerry had been assigned was approaching231to gather his men together, a runner came along a scarcely defined path.
He saluted the captain, and talked to him for a moment. Jerry, who was nearest his commander, saw a queer look on the latter’s face. Then, as the runner, with his message disappeared into the depths of the forest, the captain turned to his lieutenant, and our heroes heard him say:
“We’re cut off!”
“Cut off?”
“Yes, our battalion and another is surrounded here in the Argonne Forest. There are Germans all around us. We’re cut off. A runner has just gone to see if he can get through and summon help.”
“Surrounded!” was the thought that came to all who heard. “Surrounded by the Germans! Cut off!”
And then, almost as soon as that thought formed came another.
“We’ll hold out until help comes or fight our way through!”
And then began the tragic story of the “Lost Battalions.”
232CHAPTER XXIXCAPTURED
Just how or why the two battalions became lost and surrounded in the Argonne Forest probably no one will ever know. It was probably a case of the commands rushing on irresistibly to get as far as possible into the fore of the fight, and in going too far through over-zealousness. Or there may have been misunderstandings, which would not be uncommon in such a great battle.
However it was, two American battalions were cut off from their supporting friends, and surrounded by the Germans who, after having been driven out of the woods at a certain point, stormed back and closed the gap through which the two battalions had gone. Thus they were held at the mercy of the Huns.
But, as has been said, there was only one thought in the minds of all—or rather, two. To fight their way back and establish communication with their comrades if possible, or to stand off the attacking Germans until help came.
And then began a terrible time that lasted from233October 2d to October 8th—a week of terror, death and anguish. But the brave Americans bore it all with fortitude. They had no thought of surrender even when their food gave out and their ammunition was reduced to the last few rounds.
Once it was certain that the two battalions were surrounded by the Germans in the thick woods, a plan of defense was laid out. The commanding officers held a consultation and outlined what they hoped to do. Sending runners for help was one of these. But this plan did not succeed. Most of the runners were either killed or captured. Some may have gotten through, wounded, but for some time it was impossible for the relieving army to locate their lost comrades. Efforts were made to find them by means of aeroplanes flying over the woods, but the growth of trees and bushes was so dense that no observations could be made.
And, all this while, the Germans were firing steadily at the brave men whom they had surrounded in a ring of steel. Mortars and machine guns poured a storm of shot and bullets on them, but the Americans replied in kind, killing and being killed. For terrible toll was taken by the Huns, who had the advantage.
Ned, Bob, and Jerry did their duty as it came to them, as their companions did. Once Jerry, volunteering as a runner from one position to another, to take the place of a man killed, came234to a lonely spot in the forest and as he advanced he heard the shrill whine of a bullet near him.
Instinctively he felt where it came from, and thought he had located the German sniper. Dropping into a pile of leaves, as though shot, Jerry watched from under his cap. He saw a Hun cautiously raise his head from behind a distant stump, and that was the last act on the part of that particular German.
Jerry fired from his pistol, prone as he lay, and the shot went true. Then the tall lad resumed his journey, delivered the message and brought back the answer.
The days and nights of terror passed slowly. There was engagement after engagement. Time after time the Americans tried to break through, but were driven back with terrific loss. But the Germans could not approach close enough to wipe them out. Always when the Huns stormed there was such a withering fire from the American guns that the Kaiser’s troops fled back to the fastness of the woods.
Then came the sending, under a flag of truce, of the German commander’s invitation to surrender. He asked the American commander to give up, to save useless bloodshed, and said the Americans taken prisoner would be well treated.
The American commander sent back an answer which rang with defiance.235
And the fighting went on.
It was awful! The food dwindled away as did the ammunition. But still the surrounded battalions—now less than half their original strength—would not surrender.
“What will be the outcome?” asked Bob wearily, as he and his chums, hidden in a shell hole, held their part of the line.
“We’ll win! That’s what will be the outcome!” cried Jerry fiercely. “We’ll show the Huns how we fight!”
There came a terrific burst of firing, and a hail of bullets swept over their heads.
“They’re coming on again!” yelled Ned.
The firing increased, but it did not seem to approach nearer. Instead, it appeared to be going away.
“What can it mean?” asked Jerry.
“There’s heavy fighting going on over there,” and Ned indicated a point in the forest where it was known the Germans were in strong force.
There was activity among those that were left of the two battalions. Last desperate efforts had been made to send runners through the enemy line to regimental headquarters to summon help, but all had been killed or captured. It seemed the end of everything, when this new and heavy firing was heard.
And then, like a drink of cold water to a fever-dying236man, a ringing American cheer came through the woods to the ears of the exhausted ones.
“What is it? What is it?” cried Bob. “What does it mean?”
“It means we’re rescued!” shouted Jerry, jumping up and swinging his cap, disregarding possible German snipers. “It means the relief has come through!”
The lost battalions were found, the Germans holding them in the forest were killed or driven away, and the remainder of the men were saved.
So ended one of the most dramatic episodes of the war, the losing and finding of these brave men who would not surrender, but preferred death first.
On came the relieving army, and there was rest and food and sleep for the beleaguered ones—and of it all perhaps they needed sleep most, for they had not dared to rest much during that terrible week.
“But it will be something to tell the folks back home,” said Bob, as the three chums sat down together, able to eat and talk without the fear of a German bullet or shell.
“Yes, if we ever get there,” admitted Ned.
“And, all this while, we haven’t heard a word from the professor,” said Jerry. “I’m worried about him.”237
So were his chums, and if they could have seen their friend at that moment their anxiety would have been justified.
For briefly to chronicle the adventures that befell the little scientist: The morning he had wandered from his temporary French boarding place without his hat, he really had gone in pursuit of a strange and rare butterfly.
Then, as so often happened, he became so engrossed in his scientific work that he forgot all about everything else, and, before he knew it, he was miles away from home—or what passed for home in those days.
It was late afternoon when Professor Snodgrass finally captured the butterfly which had eluded him so long, and put it carefully away in a pocket case. Then he began to think about getting back. His stomach told him it was long past his dinner hour.
Just how it happened he never knew, and probably it would never happen again, but he managed to wander across No Man’s Land at a place secluded, and thinly guarded, and found himself behind the German lines.
Professor Snodgrass was not aware of this. He saw only that he was approaching a small French village down a pleasant valley, so far away from the immediate theater of war that the distant guns made but a dull rumble.238
At first the little scientist thought it was his own humble village he was coming to, and it was not until he saw some German soldiers about, and noted the queer looks on the faces of the French inhabitants, that he realized his mistake.
As it happened, the big American attack was in progress, and every available soldier was being rushed to the front, the few remaining in this village being among the number. They were preparing to leave.
So that, in their haste to obey orders and get to their firing line, or perhaps because they were too busy to notice one lone little American scientist, no attention was paid to Professor Snodgrass.
When he saw that he was in an unfamiliar village and began to ask questions, he was met with astonished looks, perhaps as much at his peculiar way of speaking French as anything else. But one Frenchman said:
“How did you, an American, manage to get through?”
“I don’t know,” answered the professor. “But now I want to get back.”
“Impossible, Monsieur. But come, I will hide you, if I can. I have some fellow countrymen of yours at my house, or rather, some fellow countrywomen.”
“Americans?”
“Yes, two young ladies. They were left behind239by a certain German, by name of Louder or Chowder—name of a name—and I looked after them. They will be glad to see you.”
“Oh, dear!” said the professor. “Ladies—American ladies—here in this terrible place! I must do what I can for them. Take me to them, please.”
And the Frenchman did so, with all the caution he could use. But it was not needed. Events were transpiring that made the Germans think of beginning a retreat instead of capturing one lone United States college professor.
“Here!” exclaimed the Frenchman, as he ushered his new friend into his humble home. “Here are the ladies. I have brought you a fellow countryman,” he added, nodding to his guests.
Two girls, whose pretty faces bore worried looks, arose to confront Professor Snodgrass. He bowed, rather flustered as he always was in the presence of women, and then, as he looked intently at the girls, a strange look came over his face.
“Excuse me,” he murmured, as he reached for something in his pocket. He took a card from an envelope and, looking at one of his companions, asked:
“Are you Gladys Petersen?”
“I am!” was the surprised answer. “But how––”240
“And are you Dorothy Gibbs?” went on the little scientist, turning to the other.
“That is my name, but––”
“Then I have found you,” said the little man quietly. “My name is Snodgrass, and I have a letter to you from your uncle, Professor Emil Petersen. He leaves you half his fortune and me the other half. I have been looking everywhere for you, and now I have found you. But I wish the boys were here.”
“What boys?” asked Miss Petersen.
Without answering this question the professor explained his errand, and told of his long search for the girls, to their no small astonishment. They were shocked to hear of their uncle’s death, but they had, long since, given up all hope of ever sharing in his wealth, even though he had become reconciled to them after the deaths of their parents.
“But it is all true,” said Professor Snodgrass. “He wants you to share in his fortune, or rather, he wanted you to, and I am to carry out his wishes as expressed in his will. By so doing I get a fortune for myself. It is really a great relief. But now tell me—how did you girls get here? The last I heard of you was that you were near Metz.”
“We were there,” answered Miss Petersen; “but the German family with whom we were staying after uncle went away thought the place in241danger of capture and left, taking us with them. Finally, after traveling about, they said we had better shift for ourselves, as it was dangerous for any German to befriend any American, which we are. So we did what we could. We tried to make our way to the Allied lines, but this was as far as we could get. Tell me, Professor, do you think the Americans will come?”
“Oh, of course! Yes!” asserted Professor Snodgrass, who would have said anything, just then, to gain time to think, and not to worry the girls. “Of course they’ll be here, but perhaps we had better go to meet them.”
“Oh, yes! Let’s!” cried Dorothy. “Poor Uncle Emil! If he were only here! He was very kind to us.”
“Yes, we loved him,” added Gladys softly. “He was so much like you, Professor Snodgrass—you remind me very much of him.”
“I am glad I do,” was the simple answer. “Emil Petersen was a man to be proud of. He was my friend. And now let us consider what is best to do. I think we had better leave.”
And so, though only after much protest on the part of the kind Frenchman, who warned them of their danger, the three set out. A hat was provided for Professor Snodgrass. They were going to try to reach the American lines.
“I fear you will all be captured,” said their242host. “And, if you are, it will go hard with you. The Germans hate the Americans worse than ever since the recent defeat of the Kaiser’s best troops. I fear you will not get through.”
And they did not. Just as they seemed on the point of success, having reached a French village at a place opposite the Allied line, they were halted as they were about to cross in a secluded spot, and during a lull in the fighting.
In his innocence the professor made no effort to conceal his purpose, and he and the young ladies were turned back, while a German officer, smiling in contempt, said:
“You will do for hostages if the Americans come too close!”
“Oh, are they that near?” cried Dorothy.
“Too near—the pigs!” muttered the officer.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried Gladys. “Maybe they’ll save us after all!”
But, in spite of her brave words, she looked worried as she and her cousin were led back. As for Professor Snodgrass, he bowed his head. He had failed. Oh, if only the boys had come!
243CHAPTER XXXRECAPTURED
Once more the desperate fighting was resumed. Ned, Bob, and Jerry, after a brief rest, were again thrown into the conflict after their rescue from the dense Forest of Argonne. That wood had not yet all been won, but it was in the way of being. The Germans were fighting their last desperate battles, and full well they knew it. Only a miracle could save them now, and there was no miracle for them.
Not that they did not fight, for they did. The resistance to the American and Allied advance was stiff and formidable, but it was overcome, and immense losses inflicted on the Huns as they made counter-attack after counter-attack.
It was one day, after some of the most severe fighting of the war that they had ever seen, that the battalion, in which Ned, Bob, and Jerry then were, crossed a little stream, driving the desperately defending Germans beyond it, and entered a small French village. When the echo of the shots had died away, and it was seen that the Huns244were in full retreat, the three chums and their comrades, at the head of a victorious force, marched down the main street of the quaint and ancient little town.
Forth from their hiding places came the French population, weary and scarred from four years of enemy occupation. Here and there the tricolor, so long hidden, waved in the wind. The hated and dastardly Germans had departed, never, please God, to come again!
Forward, into the recaptured town, marched Ned, Bob, Jerry, and their comrades in arms. With tears in their eyes the French people watched the Americans come. It was the day so long prayed for.
Near one of the half-ruined houses, which had been their abode—their prison, in fact, since their capture,—stood Professor Snodgrass and the two young ladies.
“Oh, can you believe it, Gladys!” exclaimed Miss Gibbs. “It doesn’t seem possible, does it, that we are saved?”
“No, but I am beginning to believe that it is not a dream any more. Those American soldiers are real, aren’t they?”
“They are, indeed, young ladies,” said the professor. “At last I shall be able to go back to my collection, and finish, I hope, the moving pictures of insects under the influence of big guns. Oh, I245shall also hope to take you to safety with me,” he added, as he thought of his wards. “If only the boys were here!”
“What boys do you mean?” asked Miss Petersen. “You have so often spoken of ‘the boys,’ but you have never mentioned who they were.”
And this was true, for, just as the professor had been on the point of doing so, he and the girls had been captured by the Germans, and, since then, he had not had the heart to speak of his friends.
“Well, I can tell you now,” he said as he and the two nieces of Professor Petersen watched the victorious troops go marching by. “There are three boys—three young men, American soldiers who––”
The professor paused, and looked hard at a certain group of marching Americans. He took off his glasses, wiped them, and put them on again to stare with all his power at three youths who swung along with thesang-froidof veterans.
“Why!” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass. “Why—bless my—bless—why, it’s Ned, Bob, and Jerry themselves!” he fairly shouted. “Oh, there they are! There are the boys themselves!” and he rushed forward, tears of joy for the moment dimming the glasses he had so carefully cleaned a moment ago.
“There are the boys. Jerry! Ned! Bob!246Here I am! And here are the girls! Hurrah! Hurrah for the U. S. A.! Hurrah for President Wilson! Hurrah for General Pershing! Down with the Germans! The United States and the Allies forever! Hurrah!”
There was a laugh in the ranks of the marching Americans. Most of them did not catch all that the little, excited, bald-headed man said, but they laughed at his enthusiasm and loved him. But Ned, Bob, and Jerry heard.
“It’s him!” yelled Bob.
“It’s the professor!” cried Ned.
“And the girls are with him!” added Jerry.
The lieutenant of the boys’ company, seeing that something unusual was in the wind said:
“You may fall out. Join us later. We’ll probably stay here a while. This is our objective, and we’ve made it.”
And then the boys fell out and such a reunion as there was!
The stories were told and retold, and Ned, Bob, and Jerry, after having been presented to the young ladies, listened to their accounts of what had happened to them since they were caught in war-torn Europe.
“And do you think we are safe now?” asked Miss Petersen.
“As safe as in a church,” declared Bob. “We’ve come to stay!”247
And so the Americans had. As General Pershing, in his report of the operations culminating in the last phase of the Meuse-Argonne battles, said:
“The strategical goal which was our highest hope was gained. We had cut the enemy’s main line of communications, and nothing but surrender or an armistice could save his army from complete disaster.”
And the armistice of November 11, 1918, came, bringing an end to the war.
And it also brings to an end this story. Not that the fighting was all over, for there was some after the boys and the professor and his charges were so happily reunited. But the Motor Boys had no further part in it. They remained in the village where they had met the little scientist, as a guard, until the Germans were so far away as to render them harmless.
“And to think you found the girls all by yourself!” exclaimed Ned, as they were talking over the events after the first day of the capture of the French town.
“Well, yes, I did manage to,” said the professor, “though I never expected, when I started out for a butterfly that morning, that I’d end up with meeting the girls I so much wanted to see.”
“But we were glad to see you,” said Miss Gibbs.
“Very,” echoed Gladys.
Ned, Bob, and Jerry were very curious to know248what branch of scientific study Miss Petersen and Miss Gibbs were interested in, for they remembered that Nick Schmouder had said that they had left his father’s home to go further into Germany for some sort of scientific work. It developed, however, that Schmouder, ashamed to confess that, in his fright, he had abandoned the two girls, had made up the story to clear himself of the charge of cowardice and neglect.
“Well, I guess it’s all over but the shouting,” said Bob, at last. “And now I guess nobody will say anything if I eat.”
“We’re all with you, Chunky!” cried Ned. “I’m as hungry as—as Bob Baker!”
But of the “shouting,” a little must be told. For when the fighting was over, and it was certain that Germany could never resume, when the armistice had been signed and the victorious movement of the Allies into Germany began, Jerry and his chums were called one day before their assembled comrades, and there, much to their surprise, they were each given honorable mention for their acts while on duty with the lost battalions in Argonne Forest. Jerry, for his work as a runner received the Distinguished Service Cross, and Bob and Ned honorable mention for their part in the desperate fight.
JERRY RECEIVED THE DISTINGUISHED SERVICE CROSS.Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Firing Line.Page 248
JERRY RECEIVED THE DISTINGUISHED SERVICE CROSS.Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Firing Line.Page 248
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“They ought to decorate Professor Snodgrass for going alone into the enemy’s territory and rescuing two young ladies,” said Ned, when the cheering was over.
“All I want to do is to get back to my bugs,” sighed the little scientist, and he soon had his wish. It might be added that his moving pictures of insects, showing their actions when heavy guns were being fired near them, were very successful, and created a sensation in scientific circles, even though the professor’s “wasp-gun” was not adopted.
As soon as it was possible the two young ladies were sent back to the United States with their share of their uncle’s wealth, while Professor Snodgrass made plans to use his share in making a full and complete study of the insects of the Amazon. Also, the boys learned later, Professor Snodgrass used a part of his fortune to further assist his old friend, and thus saved the fortunes of this man and enabled him to pay all his debts, including the money lent by the professor himself.
“And now I wonder what will happen to us!” exclaimed Bob, when these three friends of theirs had departed.
“Oh, I fancy we can find something to do,” said Jerry. “I understand the problems of peace will be as hard to solve as those of war, and we’ll have to do our share.”
“Sure thing!” assented Ned.250
What was in store for the boys will be related in the next volume of this “Motor Boys—Second Series.” In that we will see how Ned, Bob and Jerry covered themselves with glory by solving a most unusual mystery.
A month or so later the three chums, with other soldiers of the victorious armies, some of them sorely wounded, were sent to a port in France, there to take ship for home.
“And believe me!” exclaimed Bob, with feeling, as he went on board, “France and Europe may be all right, and so are those Salvation Army doughnuts, but give me a piece of mother’s cherry pie!”
“So say we all of us!” chanted Ned and Jerry.
And then, as they stood together on deck, the transport began her homeward trip.
THE BASEBALL JOE SERIESBY LESTER CHADWICK12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 80 cents, postpaid.