CHAPTER II
ANXIOUS DAYS
While Tom and Jack were hastening toward the man who seemed to havereceived some message, telephone, telegraph or wireless, from theheadquarters of this particular aviation section, a throng of theaviators, their mechanicians, and various helpers, had surrounded themessenger and were eagerly listening to what he had to say.
"I wonder what it can be, Tom," murmured Jack, as the two fairly ranover the field.
Those of you who have read the two preceding volumes of this series willremember Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly. As related in the first book, "AirService Boys Flying for France; or The Young Heroes of the LafayetteEscadrille," the youths had, some time previously, gone to a UnitedStates aviation school in Virginia, their native state, and there hadlearned the rudiments of managing various craft of the air. Tom's fatherwas an inventor of note, and had perfected a stabilizer for anaeroplane that was considered very valuable, so much so that a Germanspy stole one of the documents relating to the patent.
It was Tom's effort to get possession of this paper that led him and,incidentally, his chum Jack into many adventures. From their homes inBridgeton, Virginia, they eventually reached France and were admittedinto that world-famed company--the Lafayette Escadrille. Puttingthemselves under the tuition of the skilled French pilots, the AirService boys forged rapidly to the front in their careers.
It was while on a flight one day that they attacked a man in a motorcar, who seemed to be acting suspiciously along the sector to which ourheroes were assigned, and they pursued him, believing him to be a Germanspy.
Their surmise proved correct, for the man, who was hurt when his machinegot beyond control, was none other than Adolph Tuessig, the German whohad vainly tried to buy Mr. Raymond's stabilizer from him, and who had,later, stolen the paper.
In our second volume, entitled, "Air Service Boys Over the Enemy'sLines; or The German Spy's Secret," Tom and Jack found furtheradventures. On their way to England, whence they had gone to France,they had met on the steamer a girl named Bessie Gleason. She was in thecompany of Carl Potzfeldt. The girl seemed much afraid of him, though hewas her guardian, said to have been so named by Mrs. Gleason, a distantrelative of his. Mrs. Gleason had been on the ill-fated _Lusitania_, andit was related by Potzfeldt, for purposes of his own, that Bessie'smother had been drowned. Moreover, he declared that before she died shehad given him charge of Bessie.
Tom and Jack, the latter especially, grew very fond of Bessie, but thereseemed to be a mystery about her and something strange in her fear ofher guardian.
When the two young men reached England, they lost sight, for a time, oftheir fellow passengers, but they were destined to meet them again understrange circumstances.
During one of their flights they landed near a lonely house behind theGerman lines. They were traveling in a Caudron, which contained themboth, and on investigating the building after dark they found, to theirsurprise, that Bessie and her mother were kept there, prisoners of CarlPotzfeldt, who was a German spy.
Bessie and her mother were rescued and then departed for Paris, thelatter to engage in Red Cross work, and the boys, remaining with theirfellow aviators, longed for the time when they might see their friendsonce more.
But they had enlisted to help make the world safe for democracy, andthey intended to stay until the task was finished. Over a year hadelapsed since the sensational rescue of Bessie and her mother. TheUnited States had entered the war and the Air Service boys were thinkingthat soon they might be able to join an American aviation service inFrance.
"What is it? What has happened?" Tom demanded of one of the aviators onthe outskirts of the throng about the messenger. "Have we won a victoryover the Germans?"
"No, but we're going to," was the answer. "Oh, boy! It's great! We're init now sure! Hurray!"
"In it? What do you mean?" asked Jack.
"I mean that Uncle Sam has at last stepped over the line! He's sureenough on the side of the Allies now, and no mistake."
"You mean--" cried Tom.
"I mean," answered Ralph Nelson, another American aviator, "that theUnited States has made a big success of the Liberty Bonds loan and isgoing to send a million soldiers over here as soon as possible! Say,isn't that great?"
"Great? I should say so!" fairly yelled Tom. "Shake!" he cried, and heand his chum and everybody else shook hands with every one whose palmthey could reach. And there were resounding claps on the back, and wilddances around the green grass, even the French joining in. No not thatword "even," for the French, with their exuberance of spirit, reallystarted the joy-making.
To the brave men, who, with the British, had so long endured the bruntof the terrible blows of the Huns alone, the efforts of the UnitedStates of America meant much, though it was realized that it would besome time before Uncle Sam could make his blows really tell, even thoughan Expeditionary Force was already in the field.
"Say, this is the best news ever!" said Jack to Tom, when quiet, in ameasure, had been restored. "It's immense!"
"You said something, old man! It's almost as good news as if you hadcome in and told me that you had downed a whole squadron of Germanaircraft."
"I wish I could, Tom. But we'll do our share. Shouldn't wonder, beforethe day is out, but what we'd get orders to go up and see what we canspot. But I'm almost forgetting. You had some news of your own."
"Yes, I have. And now I have a chance to finish reading dad's letter."
"But first you can tell me what the special news is, can't you?" askedJack. "That is, unless you think it will be too much for me to standall in one day--your news and that about Uncle Sam's success in raisingfunds and troops."
"Oh, I guess you can stand it," said Tom with a smile. "It's this. Dadis coming over!"
"He is? To fight?"
"Well, no, not actively. He's a little too old for that, I'm afraid,though he's anxious enough. But he left for Paris the day he wrote this.He ought to be here now, for he would, most likely, get off ahead of themail, which, sometimes, seems slower than molasses."
"That's right!" exclaimed Jack, with such energy that Tom asked:
"What's the matter? Haven't you heard from Bessie lately?"
"Oh--that!" murmured Jack, but Tom noticed that his friend blushed underhis coat of tan. "Go on," Jack said, a moment later, "tell me about yourfather. Is the French government going to give him a big order for hisstabilizer, now that we got that paper away from that sneak of aTuessig?"
"Well, I guess dad's trip here has something to do with his aeroplanedevice, but he hints in his letter about something else. He said hedidn't want to write too much for fear a spy might get hold of theinformation. But you know my father is an expert on ordnance matters andbig guns, as well as in other lines of fighting."
"That's so, Tom. He certainly is a wonder when it comes to inventingthings. But what do you suppose his new mission is?"
"I can't quite guess. But it is for the service of the Allies."
"And you say he's on his way to Paris now?"
"He ought to be there by this time," Tom answered. "I'm going to see ifI can't get permission to send a message through, and have an answerfrom dad. Maybe he might get out here to see us."
"Or we could go in and meet him."
"Not for a week. You know we just came back from leave, and we won't beover our tour of duty for seven days more. But I can't wait that longwithout some word. I'm going to see what I can find out."
Tom and Jack, like all the other American fliers, were in high favorwith the French officers. In fact every aviator of the Allied nations,no matter how humble his rank, is treated by his superiors almost as anequal. There is not that line of demarcation noticed in other branchesof the service. To be an aviator places one, especially in England andFrance, in a special class. All regard him as a hero who is takingterrible risks for the safety of the other fighters.
So Tom readily received permission to send a message to the hotel inParis mentioned by his father as the place
where Mr. Raymond would stay.And then Tom had nothing to do but wait for an answer.
Nothing to do? No, there was plenty. Both Tom and Jack had to holdthemselves in readiness for instant service. They might be sent out on abombing expedition at night in the big heavy machines, slow of flightbut comparatively safe from attack by other aircraft.
They might have the coveted honor of being selected to go out in theswift, single Nieuports to engage in combat with some Hun flier. Tobecome an "ace"--that is a birdman who, flying alone, has disposed offive enemies--is the highest desire of an aviator.
Tom and Jack, eager and ambitious, were hoping for this.
Again, in the course of the day's work, they might be selected to go upin the big bi-motored Caudrons for reconnoissance work. This isdangerous and hard. The machines carry a wireless apparatus, over whichword is sent back to headquarters concerning what may be observed of theenemy's defenses, or a possible offensive.
Often the machines go beyond the range of their necessarily limitedwireless, and have to send back messages by carrier pigeons which arecarried on the craft.
By far the most dangerous work, however, is that of "_relage_" or firecontrol. This means that two men go up in a big machine that carries alarge equipment. Their craft is heavy and unwieldy, and has such aspread of wing surface that it is not easily turned, and if attacked bya German Fokker has little chance of escape. A machine gun is carriedfor defense.
It is a function of those in the machine to send word back to thebattery officers of the effect of the shots they are firing, that theelevation and range may be corrected. And those who go out on "_relage_"work are in danger not only from the fire of the enemy's batteries, butoften, also, from their own.
Tom and Jack had their share of danger and glory during the week theywere on duty following the receipt of the two pieces of news. They wentup together and alone, and once, coming back from a successful trip overthe enemy's lines, Tom's machine was struck by several missiles. Hischeek was cut by one, and his metal stability control was severed sothat his craft started to plunge.
Tom thought it was his end, but he grasped the broken parts of thecontrol rod in one hand, and steered with the other, bringing hismachine down behind his own lines, amid the cheers of his comrades.
"And I'm glad to be back, not only for my sake, but for the sake of themachine. She's a beauty, and I'd have hated like anything to set fire toher," remarked Tom, after his wound had been dressed.
He referred to the universal practice of all aviators of setting fire totheir craft if they are brought down within the enemy lines, and are notso badly injured as to prevent them from opening the gasoline tank andsetting a match to it. This is done to prevent the machine, and oftenthe valuable papers or photographs carried, from falling into the handsof the enemy.
The end of the week came, the last of seven anxious days, and it wastime for Tom and Jack to be relieved for a rest period. And the days hadbeen anxious because Tom had not heard from his father.
"I hope the vessel he was coming on wasn't torpedoed," said Tom to hischum. "He's had more than time to get here and send me some word. Nonehas come. Jack, I'm worried!" And Tom certainly looked it.