Looking down from above, as he was doing, it was hard for Frank to keep his bearings at all. Naturally, everything looked very different. He had been used to looking up at houses, and had had them in one plane. Now everything was flat before him. In the day time the resemblance of the country as he now saw it to a map might have helped him. But at night, even on a clear night, things were blurred. Fences and roads ran together confusedly. And this night was not clear. The day had been fair, but now clouds were coming up.
"We'll have some rain, hang it!" said Greene. "The firing seems to bring it. At least that's what they say. Wonder if it's true? I suppose it might."
"I should think it might be a good thing," said Frank. "It'll make it harder for them to seeus, won't it! And that ought to help us."
"Yes, but it'll make it a good deal harder for us to see what we're after, too. Cuts both ways, you see. Still I don't mind as long as we don't have fog or wind, and I think I'd rather have the wind. You know where you're at with wind, anyway. In a fog—Lord! You've no idea what a thing fog is until you've tried to make a landing in it."
With the motor muffled down, they were able to talk easily. In the earlier days of aeroplanes the motor made so much noise that anything like a sustained conversation was impossible. But now the motor only purred gently in their ears, just like that of a motor car. For military purposes the silence thus obtained more than made up for the slight sacrifice of power. The more old-fashioned 'planes, many of which were still in use, advertised their presence to an enemy as soon as they came at all near. But this new type, largely used by the British and the French, as Frank knew, had to be seen before they were inany danger, so silently do they wing their flight.
"Talking about fog," Greene went on, talking as indifferent as if they had been on solid ground, "I had a nasty experience just before Kaiser Bill started this trouble. Went up at Sheerness, for an experimental flight in this same 'plane. First time I'd had her out, and I didn't know her very well. And one of those old-fashioned sea fogs came rolling in when I was ten miles from anywhere. Never saw anything so sudden in my life!"
"How did you find your way, sir?"
"I didn't! I just went up and up until I was above the fog and in the sunlight. You can do that, you know. But that was a queer fog—rose a whole lot. Anyway, when I got above it, it was precious cold. And the sun didn't do me much good. I'd got lost, so far as my bearings below were concerned, making spirals as I went up. What I hoped for was to find out something when I was above the fog."
"How was that? You mean that the fog wouldonly spread over a certain distance?" he asked.
"That's it exactly. Only I didn't know that fog! So far as I could tell, it spread over all England and Ireland, too, with some left over for France! Only one thing for it, of course. I knew I'd get away from it if I kept on flying. So I steered by the sun as well as I could, and kept on until my petrol began to run short, and a cylinder began missing. And then, just as I was wondering whose windows I'd break when I went down, it began to thin out, and slipped away as quickly as it had come. And I was right above the golf links on Wimbledon Common. I volplaned down, and landed on a putting green, and an old colonel who'd been invalided home from India said I'd done it on purpose, and he was going to have me court-martialled!"
Frank laughed heartily at the story. But at the same time, he suspected Captain Greene's purpose in telling it. He thought the captain wanted to keep his spirits up, and make him forget that he had never had a flight before, and he admiredand liked him more than ever in consequence, even though, as he told himself, it wasn't necessary.
"Hello! I think we're getting near your spot, young 'un," said Greene, abruptly. He dipped down, and Frank peered down to see where they were.
"Yes," he cried, in assent. "There's the hill we were coming down when we saw them, just as we rounded that turn. That's the road they were marching along, and there, over to our left, are the woods. I wonder if they're still there."
"We'll soon know," said Greene. "Now for a little climbing. I'm not afraid of being hit, but orders are to find them without being seen, if we can manage it. So we'll try the high spots for a bit."
At once the monoplane began climbing, ascending in great spirals. Frank was absorbed by the sensation. He found that he could see the ground receding without feeling any qualms, and said so.
"You're lucky," said Greene, briefly. "Mademe feel queer first few times I tried it, I can tell you. You're probably a born flyer—and the chances are you'll never do much of it, I suppose! Always the way!"
Frank, looking down, saw that they were moving away from the woods which they were to reconnoitre, and mentioned it.
"Got to," said Greene, briefly. "Then we'll fly back. We can't climb in a straight line. When I went out for altitude once, I made twelve thousand feet, and when I finished climbing I was nearly fifteen miles, in a straight line, from where I started. Let's see. Got that flashlight I gave you? Play it right on the board there till I tell you to stop."
Frank obeyed, shooting the little spear of light on the various instruments in front of the aviator.
"All right. Hold it there. My barograph, you see. Gives me my height by showing the change in atmospheric pressure. That's how we calculate height. Not very exact, because all sorts of things vary the pressure. But it's near enough. Athousand feet! That's good enough. I don't believe they're looking for us. We don't usually scout behind our own lines."
Now he brought the monoplane around in a great sweep and flew straight over the woods. But, though Frank looked down through powerful navy night glasses, of the sort that are used for look-out duty at sea, he could see nothing.
"Clasp them around my head—so," said Greene. "See the trick? All right! Now I'll have a look. There's another pair in my pocket—use those for yourself."
But if the Germans were there, they were concealing their presence with a good deal of care and skill.
"Have to go lower, then," decided Greene. "Get ready! We'll shoot the chutes now."
He pointed the monoplane straight down, cut out his motor, and glided earthward in a glorious volplane, the most wonderful sensation that even flight, with all its wonders, can afford. When the earth seemed about to come up and hit them,though it was still actually a good five hundred feet below, he caught the machine, righted it, and started the motor again. Then he had to fly back until he was again directly over the woods, and once more, while the monoplane moved very slowly, they peered down. But still there was no sign.
"Humph!" said Greene. "If they were supposed to be anything but Germans, I'd say you'd told us a cock and bull story, young 'un! English troops, or French, would show some sort of a light. Some fool would take a chance to get a smoke. But these Germans! They're not men—they're machines. They'll obey orders that officers wouldn't take the trouble to give in any other army. We'll have to make sure. Up we go again!"
Frank could not see how going up would make it possible for them to get the information that coming down hadn't afforded. But he said nothing, because he had come to feel by this time that when Captain Greene did a thing he had a perfectly sound reason for his action. Nor was he wrong. Once more they climbed in a high spiral curve until they were higher than they had been before. For the first time, Frank now felt a peculiar ringing in his ears. He mentioned it, and Greene laughed.
"Pressure," he said. "You'll get used to it! Lord, sometimes I've felt as if my head would burst when I started to climb. But it doesn't last long. Feel in the seat there beside you, at your left. There ought to be a big electric torch."
"Here it is! I've got it, sir," said Frank, a moment later.
"All right. Touch the button at the end. Let's see if it lights up properly."
It did, decidedly, for the result was a blinding glare.
"Pretty powerful, isn't it?" said Greene. "It's used for signalling, you see. Flash the light, and you can reproduce Morse perfectly. When you're high up it can be seen a long way, too. Now hold it straight down and flash it, then give a steadyglare. Let us see if we cannot draw anything."
Frank obeyed, at the same time getting a glimpse of Greene's idea. He held the torch pointing straight down, and saw the beam of light shooting straight down. It was not powerful enough, of course, by the time it reached the treetops, to illuminate them, and so make anything below visible, but it was certainly strong enough to be observed from below, he thought. But still there was no movement, and the uncanny silence and darkness below persisted.
"All right. There's still another chance," said Greene, patiently. He drew a revolver from his pocket.
"Flash your little light this way. Let me see if it's all right," he said.
Frank obeyed.
"New fangled automatic—very powerful, and shoots a .44 bullet almost as far as an old-fashioned rifle," explained Greene. "Very useful if one runs into another 'plane unexpectedly—and the other fellow happens to be a German."
A moment later he opened fire, shooting straight downward. He could not aim, of course, but it was not his object to hit anything. He emptied one clip of cartridges, and before the last shot was fired the woods below began to spit fire. At once the monoplane began racing.
"Got 'em!" cried Greene, exultingly. "I thought that would do it! It isn't human nature to be under fire without sending back a shot or two—not even German human nature!"
No bullets came near them, but there was no longer any possible doubt that the Germans were below. The fusillade had settled that. Greene slowed down.
"Show your light quickly, then douse it at once," he cried.
Frank flashed the light of the big torch for an instant. And at once the monoplane shot forward.
"See the point?" cried Greene. "They'll aim at where the light was. Only we won't be obliging enough to be there! Well, this is a goodnight's work, my lad! You were right, and if I'm not much mistaken, you'll get your name in dispatches for this. The beggars! I'd like to know how they got through without being spotted!"
All the time the monoplane was racing away. But suddenly there was a sharp crack behind them, and in an agony of concern Greene twisted around in his seat.
"Oh, Lord!" he groaned. "I crowed too soon! That's the petrol tank—bullet hole! It'll leak out, and we can't stop the leak!"
"If you went down right away, would it all get out before you reached the ground?"
"No, but they'll catch us if we go down here. Can't do that."
"It's the only chance!" said Frank. "Isn't it?"
"You're right. I'll take it. Good boy! You don't mind the risk?"
"No!" said Frank.
Then they were rushing down. It was a desperate venture. Greene pointed for a field, but inthe darkness the risk of capture by the Germans was the least that they faced.
Greene had cut out his engine; there was too much danger of an explosion, with the leaking petrol, to allow the spark to continue. He had to volplane down this time, not as a quick way of descending, but as the only means of preventing a disastrous fall. Even in broad daylight there is always risk in landing with a dead motor. Here, in the darkness and with unknown country below, the risk was multiplied a hundred times.
All that Greene knew with any certainty was that he was over country broken up into fields. The fences were numerous, there were ditches, too, and obstructions of all sorts. The larger ones he could see readily enough, when he got close; it was the smaller ones that threatened the real danger.
But if the danger was great, Greene was a master of his craft. He swooped downward. Then, when he was scarcely a hundred feet up, he caught the machine with a fine show of skilland held it, for a moment, on an even keel.
"We'll chance it in the next field," he called. "Can't stay up any further. Here goes!"
Down, down, they went. Then they were down, bumping along. But the element of luck that, despite all his skill, Greene had to have, favored him. The field was smooth and the monoplane came to rest safely. In an instant both were out, Greene first, since Frank, having to free himself from his straps, was delayed.
"Quick! The small flashlight!" called the flyer. "Here, give it to me! If we're to save any essence we've got to be quick!"
He took the light. But a quick look over the tank failed to show a spurting stream of gasoline.
"By Jove! Wonder if I could have been mistaken? Perhaps it was something else they hit!" cried Greene. But then he groaned. As he unscrewed the cap of the tank and peered in, he saw that it was bone dry.
For a moment Greene was speechless with despair. Fate had tricked him, it seemed, after he had done his best—and a better best than most men could even have attempted. Then he grinned.
"We'll have to hoof it," he said. "A good twelve miles, too! If we were champions at cross-country work it would take us the best part of two hours. And it's so long since I've used my legs that I don't know how long I'll be."
"There's one chance," said Frank. "I remember that I saw a little inn on the road the Germans took this afternoon. We're not so very far from that now. These little inns along the roads in France all have petrol for motorists who run short. If I went there I might get some."
Greene shook his head doubtfully.
"The government's taken all the essence it could find," he said, "I don't believe they'd haveany. And, besides, there's a good chance that the Germans have men there."
"Still it's a chance," said Frank. "Won't you let me try? If I can't get it we shan't lose much time. And if I do, look at the difference it would make."
"That's true enough," said Greene. "All right, try it. I'll mend up the hole, when I find it, and if you do get some essence, we can be off at once. Good luck!"
Frank was on his way already, slipping away in the direction whence they had come. Luckily enough, he got his bearings by the windmill from which he had observed the wood into which the Germans had gone. To make his way to the road along which he and Henri had first seen the Germans passing was an easy matter. But he was afraid of roads by this time, and the more so because he knew that the Germans, having been aroused by the attack from the sky, would be doubly on the alert. So he stuck to the side of the road, religiously taking advantage of every bitof cover he could find to escape the foe.
"They knew they'd given themselves away just as soon as they fired at us," he reasoned, thinking half aloud as he trudged along, which was a habit of his. "And I don't believe they know they hit us at all. They do know that they didn't bring us down at once. Anyhow, there's no reason for them to be secret any more, and if they stay in that wood, they'll throw out pickets now, because they'll think that as soon as we went back and made our report troops would be sent to rout them out. It's up to me to be mighty careful."
That was good sound reasoning, too. From all he had learned since the war began, he knew that the Germans were by no means foes to be despised. They had been pretty generally victorious, but that was not all. They had shown a capacity for being always ready, for thinking of everything that might come up to block their plans. And he was sure, therefore, that the German commander would not argue that the aeroplane had got clean away just because the probabilities indicated that it had. He was almost certain to beat the country within a reasonable area for it, in the hope of finding it crippled and thus unable to carry the news it had come to get.
"I bet the Germans wouldn't have sent just one aeroplane," he reflected. "They'd have sent two, so that if anything happened to one, the other could have brought back the news."
But though he was thinking hard, he didn't linger as he went. Soon he came to the transverse road along which the Germans had gone, and turned in the direction they had taken. It was beginning to rain a little now, and it was very dark. He still stuck to the fields, though he was close to the road, and he found nothing to bar his way to the inn. When he got there, moreover, he found the place dark and deserted. Not a soul was in sight, but there were evidences that spoke as eloquently as men or women could have done. In the tap room furniture was smashed and broken and shattered glass was about the floor. Plainly the Germans had stopped as they went by.
"Of course!" he said, to himself. "If there were people here they took them along with them. They wouldn't be likely to leave any French people, whose first idea would be to tell what they had seen! It's certainly lucky that they didn't see us. We'd be with them now, I guess."
It was spooky work exploring the abandoned inn in the damp, dark night and with the knowledge that German soldiers were probably no great distance away. It was less than a quarter of a mile to the edge of the wood that had assumed such an important aspect, and he expected at any moment to hear the footsteps of intruders. None the less he went about his task quietly and coolly.
"If they had any essence, they'd hide it," he said to himself. "They'd know that both armies would need it for automobiles and aeroplanes, and they'd try to keep any they had left. So it won't be in any of the usual places."
For that reason he did not even leave the main building to make a search in the stable that was used as a garage. Instead, he went into the cellar. Here it was still plainer that the Germans had passed through. His feet stepped into puddles of sticky dampness, and, using his flashlight, he saw that it was wine. The heads of casks had been knocked in; broken bottles, too, strewed the floor.
This, however, had not been wanton destruction, he was sure. It had an object, and that object had been to prevent the soldiers from getting anything to drink. Troops on an errand requiring such extraordinary secrecy as had been maintained in this case could not be allowed to drink any liquor. That would have spoiled in all likelihood the remarkable discipline of which Captain Greene had spoken.
But, once more, it was not his business to think of what he saw, or to speculate about it, but to find the petrol if any was to be found. And he stumbled upon the hidden store quite suddenly, and quite literally, too. In one corner of the cellar was what looked like a pile of kindling wood. Harry kicked it indifferently in passing, and wasalmost thrown when his feet encountered a resistance more solid than he had any reason to expect. He looked down, and there, under the kindling, were two ten-gallon cans of petrol!
"I knew it must be there!" he cried to himself. He was down on his knees in a moment, shaking the cans to make sure that they were full. One had never been broached; the other was nearly half full. And this second can was the one he took. That would be more than enough to get the monoplane back to headquarters, and there was no reason for burdening himself with too great a load. He picked up the can, and at the same moment his heart leaped up into his throat, for overhead there came the sound of heavy footsteps. For a moment he stood as if paralyzed, listening.
The footsteps continued; guttural voices sounded,—the voices of Germans. It was impossible to distinguish what they were saying; and it made no difference, in any case. The only point that mattered was that they were there; that they blocked the only means Frank had of getting awaywith the precious petrol he had so luckily found.
He was safe enough personally. Even if they were led to come down into the cellar the chances were all in favor of his being able to conceal himself. What he feared was that some use was to be made of the place, and that the men whose voices he heard would stay there, thus preventing him from getting out of the building and so getting the petrol to Greene. It was more than possible, he thought, that the German commander, knowing that the presence of his troops in the woods had been discovered, would decide to use this place for headquarters.
And what he could hear confirmed this idea. There was a continual tramping overhead. Men came and went. That seemed to indicate that the occupation was to be permanent. He racked his brains for some means of escape. Windows there were none in the cellar. He found no trace of a trap door, such as there would have been in almost any American cellar. And then the saving thought came to him like a flash. He debated fora moment, then decided that the risk was worth taking. First he took his can of gasoline to the steps. Then he poured a little into a broken bottle, and poured this, in turn, on the wood under which he had found the cans. He dragged the full can of petrol to the other side of the cellar. And then, very deliberately, he set a match to the gasoline soaked wood and retreated to the steps.
The fire he had started blazed up at once, owing to the petrol. And at once a thick, acrid smoke filled the place. He was well up on the stairs, and thus safe from being choked. But he was in danger should the Germans come down, though even so, since the steps were wide, there was a chance for him. But he did not expect them to come down. He thought the smoke would drive them out, since as nearly as he could judge his fire was directly under the room in which the most of the commotion upstairs was taking place.
It was not long before he heard coughing upstairs, the first sign that the smoke was doing its work. By that time a brisk fire was burning. Ithad run up the posts to the beams that formed the chief support of the room above, and to his delight Frank saw that these burned far more fiercely and quickly than he had hoped. Plainly the wood was old and dry.
Above, as the fire spread, louder cries succeeded the coughing. And then came the crucial test by which his daring experiment had to stand or fall. Some one opened the door at the head of the stairs. Now, if ever, he was to be discovered! But as the door was opened the smoke was drawn up, and the German who had come to it jumped back.
"The whole place is burning! Get out!" he cried, in German. "There may be explosive spirits still down there!"
He slammed the door shut, and Frank heard running footsteps above. He waited until there were no more, and then, almost overcome by the smoke, slipped through the door. No one was left in the hallway into which he came. The place was full of smoke. He did not venture to the front door by which he had entered, but, still dragginghis can of petrol, went to the back. Going through the kitchen, he found another door, as he had been sure he would and in a moment he was drinking in the cool, fresh air. The rain that was beating down on him now was welcome.
Just as he reached the open there was a sharp explosion behind him, and he looked back, to see the windows on the ground floor glowing. That was the other can of petrol, as he could guess readily enough. At once he ducked, and, running low, got well to one side of the house. Then, just as a great burst of flame lighted up the whole scene, he dropped to the ground, and lay peering toward the road in front of the inn.
A dozen officers and as many men, all in the German uniform, with the spiked helmets that made them so unmistakable, were in the road, staring at the burning house. And it was not until Frank saw how angry one of the officers was that he realized what a useful idea his had really been. Now detection of the Germans was certain. Investigation was almost certain to be made of afire in a building so far out of the range of the German artillery as this. And so, even if neither he nor Captain Greene got back in time, the torch he had lighted, meaning only to secure his own escape, was likely to prove a death blow to the German hopes of secrecy.
Frank could not hear what the Germans were saying, but he had no intention of getting closer in an attempt to do so. Instead, having satisfied himself that there were no pickets behind the burning inn, he began crawling cautiously to the rear. It was a difficult task, especially so because of the petrol, which was no light burden. But he managed to get well out of the lighted zone and then he decided that it would be safe to straighten up and walk along.
As he went along the burning building served him well. It gave him a fixed landmark from which he could lay his course to the spot where he had left the monoplane and Captain Greene. By looking back from time to time he could correct his course, when he was crossing fields. And sowithout the guidance of roads, and partly to make better time and partly to avoid stray German pickets, he chose to stay away almost entirely from the roads and go across country.
From the fields in which they had descended to the inn the distance, as nearly as he had been able to guess it, was about a mile. He shortened this somewhat on the return trip. And he was within a quarter of a mile of the meeting place when he became suddenly conscious of something that was not just right. At first he was tempted to stop, but he overcame the temptation. The thing that had warned him of a possible danger was a trifling noise, yet one that was out of the ordinary. What the noise was he could scarcely have told. Perhaps the breaking of a twig, perhaps the slipping of a foot along a suddenly encountered patch of mud. At any rate he was sure that he had been followed.
He slowed down and now he could hear, or thought he could, the heavy breathing of at least two men. He was not certain of this; he was willing to admit to himself that he might be fancying it.
"If they're after me, why don't they take me?" he wondered to himself. But the explanation came to him almost as soon as he had asked himself the question. Whoever was following him could reason from the sight of the can of petrol he was carrying that he was going to some definite place where that petrol was wanted. And it would require no great stretch of the imagination for his trailers to decide that he must be carrying fuel to the aeroplane that had worked such havoc with the German plans.
"They think I'll lead them to the 'plane," he thought. Half a dozen plans for misleading them came to him. But none seemed practicable. Frank was intensely dogged in his determination to accomplish anything he had set out to do. The idea of giving up now, even to mislead his pursuers and so save Captain Greene from capture, was repugnant to him. He wanted to foil the men behind him—unless, as was possible, he only imagined that they were behind him—and still do what he had set out to do, which was in this instance to refill that empty petrol tank on the monoplane.
It was the purely accidental movement of putting his hand into his pocket to dry it off that gave him the idea. It met the pocket flashlight Captain Greene had given him, and at once he remembered a use for it of which the aviator had told him. To follow the plan did not mean that it would succeed, but it represented a chance, anyhow. And so when he came to the fence which he remembered climbing on his way from the monoplane, he stopped on the top rail, having pushed his can of petrol through first. In the field now immediately in front of him, but far away still, on the other side of the field, lay the monoplane. He could not see it in the driving rain but he knew that it was there.
There too would be Greene, waiting for him, and in all probability at this moment straining his eyes watching for his return. On that depended his chance of success in the plan that had come to him. On that, and on Greene's presence of mind and quick-wittedness.
So, still astride of the top rail, he began signalling with his pocket flashlight. He spelled out his message in Morse code, using a long pressure of the releasing switch for the dash and a short one for the dot. Word by word he spelled out his message, telling that he suspected that at least two Germans were trailing him. And at the end he signalled a request that if he had understood, Greene should wait a half minute and then imitate an owl's cry. He chose an owl because he had heard one or two earlier in the night. And he added that if he got the signal he would keep on heading for the monoplane. He suggested nothing to Greene; the rest was decidedly up to the aviator. Frank had done his share.
If there were Germans actually within sight of him, they did not attempt to interfere with him while he was flashing his message. But he had reckoned confidently that they would not. Hewas sure that he had not betrayed the fact that he knew he was being followed, and they would naturally suppose that this stop for signalling was part of a pre-arranged plan. He now dropped to the ground, picked up his can and took two or three quick steps. Then he stopped abruptly and was sure that he heard a footstep behind him. He grinned to himself, and just then the hoot of an owl sounded. Then he went on.
"I'll make it easier for them," he said. "Perhaps they wouldn't like to follow me right across the field!"
So he skirted the fence and the hedge at the side, and went around three sides of the field to reach the monoplane. And, as soon as it was in sight, all his suspicions were verified, for from behind there came a sharp exclamation in German, and he was told to stop, just as a heavy hand gripped his shoulder.
"Ja, we were right!" exclaimed one man in German. "There is their aeroplane! Now for the other—"
He never finished the sentence. Instead, he threw up his hands and pitched forward, just as a revolver cracked sharply in the silent night. With an oath the man who held Frank threw him aside, at the same moment shooting in the direction of the flash of Greene's pistol. But the Englishman's revolver spoke at the same moment, and he too fell. Frank's ruse had saved the day!
"Keep back!" called Greene sharply to Frank.
His revolver still in his hand, he flashed the powerful light Frank had used in the monoplane into the faces of the two Germans. They lay groaning within a foot or two of one another.
"No tricks!" said Greene, sharply. "I don't want to finish you, but I'll shoot again if you make a move, except you can throw away your revolvers."
He spoke in German, and both of the wounded men obeyed. Frank was immensely relieved. He had been afraid that they had been killed, and the thought had sickened him. He realized fully that it would have been in accordance with the idea of war had Greene killed them both; that it would have been no more than his duty. And yet he was more than glad that they were alive and, so far as he could judge at that moment, not badlyhurt or not dangerously wounded, at least.
"Fill that tank with the petrol," said Greene to Frank, "but leave a little in the can."
Frank obeyed, wondering why the order was given. Then Greene pushed the monoplane along the ground for some distance until it was in a favorable position to take the air.
"All right! Get in!" he said. "Strap yourself in. Know how the straps go? Right! I'm going to make a bonfire. It'll bring someone to help those poor chaps. I don't want them to have to lie here all night unless they have to."
He took the can which Frank had almost emptied and poured what gasoline remained on the ground that had been protected from the rain by one wing of the monoplane. Then he flung a match into the now highly inflammable stubble, and a flame leaped up at once, lighting the monoplane and the two wounded Germans. In a moment more he was in his place and the monoplane was plunging along the ground. Then it took the air and rose swiftly to a safe height. And thenfor the first time there was a chance for explanations.
"By Jove, how did you come to think of flashing that message to me?" cried Greene. "That was an idea! I almost gave it all away by answering before I realized what you were telling me. What was that fire I saw? Looked to me like the very place you said you were going to."
So Frank explained.
"Oh, splendid—my word, splendid!" cried Greene. "I fancy we'll find they've started this way already. Hullo—yes, by Jove, there come some of our fellows now! See, over there to the right? Aeroplanes—gone to spot those Johnnies. They didn't wait for us to come back!"
He dropped to a bare hundred feet of elevation now and in a moment Frank could see why. Below them a mass of cavalry was in motion.
"There they go!" cried Greene. "Your beacon gave them the line. The general must have decided that was confirmation enough."
Now came a shouting from below, and Greeneanswered it by swooping down to a landing in the field. An officer put his horse to the wall and rode up beside them.
"Captain Greene, by any chance?" he called, peering at them.
"Yes, colonel," said Greene, saluting. "The Germans are in a clump of woods on the Amiens road. In an angle of that road and the one from LaFere, rather. I don't know the exact strength, but have reason to believe about five thousand."
"There's no doubt about their being there, though?"
"None at all, sir. They shot a hole in my tank, and I had to wait to get enough essence to come back. All mine leaked before I could make a landing to plug the bullet hole. Did you start on the sight of that burning house?"
"Yes. The staff couldn't see why a house should be burning unless there were Germans about. Very well. Report back to headquarters, captain. They're waiting for you."
"Very well, sir."
"I thought so," he said to Frank, when they were in the air again. "You'll hear more of this night's work before you've done, my boy. There's a deal of gratitude due you. But I'd like to know what those Dutchmen were up to!"
Five minutes more saw them landed safely at headquarters, and it was only a few moments before they were in the presence of General Smith-Derrien. He listened to Greene's brief report in silence.
"There is more to be told of what my passenger and observer did, sir," he added, when he had sketched the essential facts. "I will make a written report of that direct to you."
"Do so," said the general. "You have done very well. Had it not been for the information we have obtained in this way, the whole headquarters staff might have been captured. The Germans evidently learned, through spies, of the orders that had been issued for continuing the retirement, and had slipped this force through to intercept the staff. I have been able to turn thetables on them, however. They will have trouble, I think, in escaping the forces sent against them."
For some time heavy firing had been heard in the direction of the woods where the Germans had lain. Now this died away. General Smith-Derrien glanced significantly at a colonel of his staff and permitted himself the luxury of a smile, a rare one for him in those days of the retreat.
Just then the telephone on his table rang. The nearest officer answered, listening attentively for a moment.
"Colonel Mewbray using the field telephone, sir," he said to the general. "It's been connected with our wires here. He reports that the horse artillery completely surrounded the wood in which the Germans were quartered, and shelled the woods for ten minutes. After that the Germans ceased firing, and when we played searchlights a dozen white flags were shown. The German commander, General von Garnst, surrendered to avoid a further useless sacrifice of lives."
The general nodded.
"My compliments to Colonel Mewbray," he said. "Ask him to convey my thanks to Brigadier-General Lannin. The German prisoners will be placed on trains at once and sent to Paris, through Amiens. The staff will prepare at once to take the new position as indicated in the order of to-night. Orderly!"
"Yes, sir!" said a private, stepping forward.
"My motor is to be ready in five minutes."
"Yes, sir."
The orderly went to transmit the order. Then the general turned to Frank and held out his hand.
"I shall see to it that you and your companion Boy Scout are mentioned in dispatches," he said. "I shall also see to it that your scoutmaster is informed of your excellent work, and shall request him to give you the highest possible promotion for distinguished services!"
Frank felt that he was dismissed, and a gentle pressure on his arm from Captain Greene made him sure of it. The aviator went out with him, and when they were outside he slapped him on the back.
"Well, you've got a right to feel proud of yourself!" he said. "And the general doesn't begin to know all you did. He will, though, as soon as he gets my report. I'll write that directly because there's no telling what will happen any time I go up. You've seen something of how it goes in a monoplane."
"I wonder what I'm to do now," said Frank.
"Go away from here as quickly as you can," said Greene, with a laugh. "I can tell you that much. That's what we've been doing ever since they smashed us at Mons, in Belgium. You see those beggars creep out, trying to get around us.The Frenchmen made a bad guess at the beginning, and sent too many men to Alsace, and so this chap Von Kluck had enough men to threaten to surround us. But his turn's coming!"
"When?" asked Frank.
"Ask me something easy! Before very long, though, I think. We'll be south of Amiens by to-morrow. We've got to wait until we get enough men. But there's a surprise coming to the Germans. If I told you any more I'd be shot at daybreak for betraying military secrets. Good luck, young 'un! Sorry you're not going to be with us in the flying corps!"
"Good-bye," said Frank.
Then he went to look for Henri, and found him in the same room in which they had first been received by Major Cooper. Henri started up with a cry of delight at seeing him and embraced him, in the French fashion, to the huge amusement of the Englishmen present and Frank's own disgust and embarrassment. But he tried to hide how he felt, for he knew that Henri was only doing whathe had been brought up to regard as the proper thing, and he would not have hurt his chum's feelings for the world.
"You two youngsters have got to get back to Amiens," said the major. "For one thing because the Germans will be here as soon as we get out, and for another because I want you to take some dispatches to the French staff there. Can either of you drive a motor?"
"I can," said Henri, proudly.
"Really? All right. I'd rather not spare a man. You will take these dispatches in the same containers in which they were brought, and deliver them to Colonel Menier, if he is still in Amiens. If not, to Major Fremille. You will also turn over the motor car to the French authorities there. Shall you stay in Amiens after that, even if the French leave, which they will?"
"Yes, sir, unless there is something we can do elsewhere."
"I rather think you'll be able to do more there than anywhere else, if the Germans don't driveyou out. But you'll hear of that from the French officer you report to. By the way, when I spoke of the convoy that resisted a Uhlan attack, you didn't tell me you'd had anything to do with that. Why not?"
"We didn't, sir," said Frank, surprised. "We got away just as the fighting began."
"Yes, and sorry to go, too, I'll wager! Captain Hardy reported that it was your quickness and intelligence that saved him, and enabled him to get help up in time to save the convoy. Something about the hands of a clock you saw moving, eh?"
"That was nothing, sir," said Frank. "I just happened to see that they'd moved, when a minute before the clock had seemed to have stopped."
"Maybe it was nothing, but we hadn't got on to it before. And if they've been doing that at all steadily it accounts for the way they've been able to drop shells on to what we supposed were concealed positions. They shelled the house the staff was in two days ago. We're giving them a good fight, but they beat us pretty badly when itcomes to spying. If we had a few more people with eyes as quick as yours, we'd be better off. Come on, I'll take you out and see you started."
As they reached the street they saw General Smith-Derrien climbing into a great automobile that started off at once, moving south toward Paris. What little they had seen of him had already made them conceive a great admiration for the silent British commander, who only a few days later was to be honored as the first brilliant figure of the war on the allied side. It was for his very conduct of this retreat that Field Marshal French, the British commander-in-chief, selected him for special mention in his dispatches.
They had to wait a few minutes while Major Cooper attended to the details of getting a car for them.
"Oh, Frank," said Henri, wistfully, "I wish I'd been the one to go! Though I wouldn't have done so well, I'm sure of that."
"Nonsense! You'd have done as well, and better," said Frank.
"No! But think of what you have done for France, for what is done for the English now is done for France as well. I am glad the English are fighting with us now, instead of against us. I—"
Major Cooper's return interrupted him.
"Here's your car coming now," he said. "You'll have to take a long way around. There are troops, or will be, on all the direct roads, and, besides, bridges are being blown up fast. Take the road that leads to Abbeville, over toward the sea. Use your own judgment about when you turn south, but keep moving toward the west until you are very close to Abbeville. After that you will have a fairly clear course. We haven't any reason to think that the Germans are in that direction at all as yet, though where they may be to-morrow no one knows. I needn't tell you to keep your eyes open. But if you do run into Germans, don't try to get away. There's very little chance of their finding the papers you carry, and, if they do, it is not important enough for us towant you to run any great risk. If you see them coming, hide at once. The motor doesn't matter."
Henri took the driver's seat and Frank sprang in beside him. And Henri, feeling that he had been pushed a little into the background, started the motor at once. He really could drive a car, having learned from his father years before, and he soon showed, when he had made himself familiar with the details of his machine, that he was to be trusted with it. And so, with a blast of his horn, he made a quick turn and sent the car roaring into the night. That was only to show off, however, for in a moment he muffled his engine, and the car spun along almost in silence, the motor purring evenly, as if to show that it was in perfect trim and ready to give the car all the speed that was needed.
The rain had stopped by this time, but the roads were still muddy and greasy, and at first, too, there was a good deal of traffic. Guns and men were moving, and, moreover, there was anotherdanger. The German guns had evidently moved up, and a shell fell near them once in a while, but not so near as to bother them.
After a few miles of travelling, however, they found the road freer, and found also that the sound of the rear guard engagement that was covering the British retreat was further off. Five miles saw them riding through fields where twinkling lights showed the presence of troops, and they were stopped by a French guard. The pass Major Cooper had given them got them through, and the soldiers laughed and chatted while an officer was examining it. These were fresh troops, hurriedly brought up to hold off the Germans while the exhausted British retired to new positions, and they were gay, light-hearted fellows. True, they had not yet been in action, but to Frank it seemed that they were likely to be jovial after they had heard bullets singing over their heads.
"They don't seem to feel bad," said Henri. "And it is the same with the English. They are retreating, and still they are cheerful."
"You say that as if it was something remarkable!" said Frank, with a laugh. "Of course they're cheerful. They've got faith in their leaders, and they know, I suppose, that a retreat is often necessary. They'll turn the tables before long."
"It seems strange to be where it is so quiet," said Frank, when they had finally passed beyond sound of the skirmishing on the extreme left of the allied line, formed by the French force through which they had passed. "I'm expecting to see Germans every time we make a turn."
"So am I," said Henri. "And why shouldn't we? If they are trying to turn the allied flank, we're as likely to see them in this direction as not."
"Look here," said Frank, "you're perfectly right. We haven't got orders to make particularly good time. Let's keep on right to Abbeville. That's at the mouth of the Somme. Then we can turn toward Boulogne. If there are Germans around here at all they'll be in that direction. Wemight get some trace of their cavalry. Or we might do what we did before, strike some of their infantry. I don't think we're so likely to do that, though."
"We'll try it, anyhow," said Henri.
And so they turned toward St. Pol, instead of making the sharp turn at right angles that would have brought them to Amiens. Here there were traces, indeed, of a German invasion. Peasants, alarmed by the reports of Uhlans seen at Arras and near Boulogne, were in full flight.
"We needn't bother about that," said Frank. "Anything that these people know the intelligence department has found out. No troops advancing at all openly could get by the aeroplanes without being seen. And I think the railroad in this direction has been watched. I saw a lot of aeroplanes flying over this way this afternoon, and there would be more from Boulogne. There are English warships there, I've heard, and their naval flyers would cover this part of the country."
Suddenly Henri slowed down the car. He kept one hand on the wheel, the car moving slowly forward, but his gaze was fixed on the sky. Finally he stopped the car altogether.
"Look up there," he said, quietly, to Frank. "Do you see that light? First I thought it was a star. But there aren't any other stars, and now I'm sure it's moving. Do you see?"
He pointed, and Frank's eyes followed his finger.
"You're right," he said. "Hello! Now it's gone—no, there it is again! See, it flashes and then disappears! It's some sort of a signal from the air. Keep the car still."
He tried to follow the flashes of the light, hoping to read the message if it was in Morse code. But he soon found that it was not. And then Henri cried out sharply.
"If it's a signal, it's being answered from over there!" he said. "See, there's a light waving there. It looks as if it might be from the roof of a house. I—"
Frank leaped out.
"Turn the car around first," he said. Henri obeyed. "Now try your starter. Cut out the motor and then see if she starts quickly."
Henri, mystified, obeyed.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because when we want to start, we may have to do it in an awful hurry," said Frank. He searched the road for a moment. "Run her back a few feet to where that big tree is. It's darker there than anywhere else around here. All right, that's far enough. We'll have to take the chance of something coming along while we're gone and bumping into her but I don't believe there's much risk of that. Now, come on! And quiet! We've got to get up to that place without being seen."
Cautiously they approached the house. No lights showed in any of its windows; the placelooked deserted. Indeed, all around it were traces of hasty flight. It was a wayside inn, of a type common always in France, commoner than ever since the spread of the craze for automobiles and motor touring. Suddenly Frank stopped.
"Wait a minute for me," he said. "I've got to go back to the car. I ought to have thought of it before."
"What do you want?"
"Batteries. I saw a coil of wire in the car and I want that, too. And there must be batteries. A car like this would carry everything needed for small repairs, wouldn't it?"
"Yes. I think you'll find them under my seat."
Frank was back in less than five minutes.
"All right," he said. "I don't know whether we'll have time to do what I want or not, and whether I'll be able to do it, anyhow. But it's worth trying. Now come on past the house. Easy! This is the hardest part of it."
They slipped by. However, Frank uttered a suppressed exclamation as soon as they had doneso. Before them, on the right of the road was a field easily two or three times as large as the ordinary French field. As a rule the land in France is split up into very small sections, closely cultivated. But here was a cleared field as large as those commonly seen in England or America, with no fences for perhaps a quarter of a mile in any direction. Henri turned to look back at the inn.
"They're still signalling from there—and look! There are two lights now, instead of one, above!"
These lights were still some distance away. Frank studied them. Then he led the way into the field.
"I thought so!" he said, with suppressed triumph in his voice. "Do you see those barrels over there toward the inn? There's petrol in those—or I'll eat my shirt!"
"And if there is?" said Henri. "What then?"
"Can't you guess? What do you suppose those lights mean?"
"Aeroplanes?"
"Never! They wouldn't flash that way. They'd have to be in a different position entirely. No. Dirigibles!"
"Zeppelins?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps Parsevals or Schutte-Lanz airships. I think Parsevals, for they need gasoline. And Zeppelins could fly from Brussels or Liege, almost from Cologne—oh, I have it! That's why they need petrol!"
"Why?"
"They haven't flown over Belgium at all! They are from the sea!"
"Oh—so that they could come secretly, and not be seen as they passed over Belgium?"
"Yes. If they flew over Belgium they would have to cross some territory that the Germans do not hold, and word would go to Antwerp and from there to the army here. Now quickly! They will be here soon. They are coming nearer every minute."
They went to the barrels as fast as they dared. There was nearly a score of them, all close together. Each had a tap, and it was proof enough that they contained petrol to open the tap of one. The smell identified them beyond any doubt whatever.
"Come on, and help me dig a hole," said Frank. He dropped to his knees, and began scooping out the soft earth with his hands. Henri fell to with a will, though he was sadly puzzled. But when the hole had been dug to a depth of perhaps two feet, and Frank began to hollow out a trench toward the barrels he began to understand. And as soon as he did, he worked as hard as Frank himself, careless of torn finger nails and bleeding hands. They carried the trench to the foot of one of the barrels, and Frank turned the tap. The gasoline ran out into the trench, and flowed to the hole. Frank ran back to the hole.
"Stop it when I give the word," he said. "Now!"
Then he was busy with the copper wire he had brought from the automobile for several minutes. The wire had been carried either to repair cuttelegraph or telephone wires, or to serve as the conductor for a field system of lighting. But whatever its original purpose had been, Frank was thankful now that he had found it. He worked fast, and was satisfied at last.
"Now a little straw and a few twigs over the hole and the trench—and the sooner they come, the better!"
"Yes, the sooner, the better!" echoed Henri, tremendously excited, now that he understood, even if rather vaguely, what Frank planned. "Vive la France! A bas les Allemands!"
As they went back toward the road Frank trailed the wire behind him in two lengths. And when they reached the road, he dropped into the ditch, and was busy for some minutes.
"Now if it only works!" he said. "Perhaps it will; perhaps it won't. But it can't do any harm. That's certain."
"They're coming closer. I think I can see their shapes now—and there are two of them," said Henri. "Do you see?"
For a moment Frank could not. Henri's eyes were sharper than his. But then he did make out vaguely two immense shapes that were coming through the air. Soon, too, the faint hum of their powerful motors made itself heard.
"Zeppelins and big fellows, too," said Frank. "All the better!"
He wondered if his plan would work, and if he would be able to carry it out. If, in the final test, would he dare to do what he had tried to arrange? Time enough to think of that when the moment for decision came. And meanwhile there were a hundred things that might happen to ruin his plan. There was nothing to do now but wait. But every moment of waiting brought the climax nearer. The hum of the motors of the airships rose louder on the quiet air, broken only by the faint and distant mutter of the battle that was still being fought miles away. It sounded now like the buzzing of a swarm of bees, magnified a thousand times. And then the field was full of men, rushing from the inn. He wondered how theycould have been concealed there. But such wonder was idle, and he did not think of it. Instead he watched keenly. First one monstrous aerial battleship came to rest on the earth. At once the men in the field surrounded her, seizing the ropes that were flung out, and made her fast.
There was a good deal of noise. Men were calling in German of course. But soon order was restored, and the only voices were those giving commands. Suddenly Frank's face lighted up.
"Did you understand, Henri?" he said. "The men in the field are to be the crews for the fighting. They have sailed here with only enough men to steer them. And now all are ordered out, to stretch their legs!"
"Yes, I heard that order," said Henri.
"Now keep your eyes glued to them. What are they doing?"
They listened and watched intently.
"Just as I thought," said Frank. "See, they are going to fill the tanks. There, they are attaching hose. And they have a pump—they surelymust have a pump, to send the petrol uphill!"
Meanwhile the other airship had come down, on the other side of the barrels, and there as nearly as they could judge, the same procedure was carried out.
"Watch, Henri! Are they pumping?" cried Frank.
"Yes!" said Henri. "Now—now—now is your time, Francois!"
Frank hesitated the fraction of a second.
"If it meant killing them, I could not do it," he said, solemnly. "But they are all out of the airships. Now!"
On the word he closed the circuit he had made by connecting the loose ends of the wire he had carried from his petrol filled hole to the two batteries he had brought from the car. He had broken the circuit at the other end, leaving the two wires separated by the fraction of an inch, and cunningly held in place. The result was a spark—or would be, if he had not erred.
And he had made no mistake! For as he closedthe circuit, he saw a flash of flame at the spot where he and Henri had dug the hole into which the petrol had flowed from the barrel they had opened. The spark had fired the explosive gas that results when petrol is mixed with air. The flame ran along the shallow trench, and, amid a chorus of shrieks from the Germans who scattered in all directions, the fire reached the barrel. In a moment there was a loud explosion. The flame flew to the other barrels—the whole neighborhood of the barrels, owing to the mixture of the petrol and the air, was then filled with an explosive and inflammable gas.
There was a great flash of flame, broken by a dozen sharp reports as one barrel after another blew up.
And still, though the Germans were flying in all directions, plainly visible in the light of the blazing gasoline, the real success of Frank's plan hung in the balance. But then what he had calculated happened. The flame ran through the lines of hose. And a moment later two greatshafts of flame marked the spread of the fire to the helpless monsters of the air. There was no chance to save them. Indeed, even the Germans had no other thought than to save their own lives. Their raid, whatever its ultimate object, was ruined and two vessels of the great air fleet of the Kaiser were destroyed.
For a moment after the final catastrophe the two scouts stayed, caught by the wonder and the magnificence of the ruin they had wrought. But then Frank cried out,
"Come on! We haven't a moment to lose! They'll know that that was no accident! Some came running this way. They'll find the wires! And then they'll know. The wires will bring them here. Hurry!"
They began running desperately toward the automobile.