THE FIGHT IN THE AIR. _Page 42._
_Our Young Aeroplane Scouts In Germany._]
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY
Or
Winning the Iron Cross
by
HORACE PORTER
Author of"Our Young Aeroplane Scouts In France and Belgium.""Our Young Aeroplane Scouts In Turkey.""Our Young Aeroplane Scouts In Russia."
A. L. BURT COMPANY]
NEW YORK
Copyright, 1915By A. L. Burt Company
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY
CONTENTS
I. SAVED BY QUICK WIT 3 II. A STIRRING HOLIDAY 13 III. A THRILLING MOMENT 23 IV. THE STOLEN PAPERS 34 V. WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT 45 VI. A FLYING VICTORY 56 VII. THE RAIN OF BOMBS 67 VIII. ALONG THE BATTLE LINE 78 IX. THE LUMINOUS KITE 90 X. THE CARRIER PIGEONS 101 XI. UNDER THE RED ROOF 112 XII. THROUGH FIRE AND FOG 123 XIII. CAPTURED BY COSSACKS 135 XIV. A WONDERFUL RESCUE 146 XV. DUEL TO THE DEATH 157 XVI. DRAWN FROM THE DEPTHS 168 XVII. A MIGHTY STONE ROLLER 179 XVIII. TRAILS THAT CROSSED 190 XIX. RABBIT'S FOOT FOR LUCK 200 XX. WINNING OF THE IRON CROSS 210 XXI. HELD IN WARSAW 219 XXII. AN HOUR TOO SOON 229 XXIII. A LEAP FOR LIBERTY 238 XXIV. AGAIN THEY WON OUT 248
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY.
CHAPTER I.
SAVED BY QUICK WIT.
"HOLD on there, I want a word with you!"
Billy Barry and Henri Trouville, the Boy Aviators, were in the act ofclimbing into a superb military biplane on the great parade ground atHamburg when thus hailed by a mild looking man in citizen's attire,with face half-hidden by a slouch hat and a pair of huge, horn-rimmedspectacles.
There was a note of authority in that voice, gently tuned as it was,and behind those spectacles were a pair of eyes as keen as gimletpoints.
The speaker was none other than Roque, the noted secret agent--"HerrRoque," if you please, fitting into his masquerade as a merchant havingcontract business with the authorities of the canvas city of aeroplanehangars.
"Come over to quarters for a few moments, young sirs, won't you?"
The polite manner of request was for the benefit of the bystanders, whohad been awaiting the flying exhibit, but the slight gesture that wentwith the words indicated a command to Billy and Henri.
They knew Roque!
Heinrich Hume, aviation lieutenant, who usually had a good deal to sayon those grounds, made no more protest than a clam at this interruptionof a special aeroplane test. He simply waved two other aviators onduty into the machine, as Billy and Henri marched meekly away with theimitation merchant.
While many of the spectators marveled at the apparent breach ofdiscipline, the lieutenant was content to let them wonder. At least, heoffered no explanation.
Billy and Henri did a lot of thinking as they crossed the paradeground--there must be something brewing, or Roque would not have beenso impatient as to invade the parade ground at the time he did.
Roque conducted the boys into Lieutenant Hume's private office atheadquarters, closed and locked the door behind them.
Removing his spectacles, and throwing his slouch hat among the mapsthat littered a big table in the center of the room, the secret agentat the same time changed his form of address--the oily manner wassucceeded by abrupt and stern speech, which showed the real man ofbrain and unlimited authority.
The secret agent had seated himself, without invitation to the boysto do likewise. They stood, facing the real Roque they knew by formerexperience.
"Where is Ardelle?"
Roque put the question like a pistol shot, and fiercely eyed theyoungsters before him.
The point-blank query failed to reach the mark intended.
Billy looked at Henri and Henri looked at Billy, and then they bothlooked at Roque with never even a quiver of an eyelash. They had notcomprehended what was behind the dreaded agent's snapshot at theirnerves. The truth of the matter was, they did not know anybody by thename of "Ardelle."
So Billy, with a bold front, remarked: "You can't prove it by us, sir.Mr. Ardelle is not in our list of friends."
"None of that!"
Roque pointed a menacing finger at the astonished pair of youngsters.
"I have it beyond doubt that Ardelle was on these very grounds a day ortwo ago, and by the word of a man who could not be mistaken. Fool thathe was not to be sure at the time, and only the garb of a sailor tomislead him."
Then it jointly dawned upon the minds of Billy and Henri that Anglin,the smiling secretary of the eminent director of affairs at Calais,and later in the role of a bubbling sailor here in faraway Hamburg,must be the Ardelle about whom Roque was talking.
They realized, too, that through their boyish delight in lending aidand a helping hand to one they had known in intimate association withthat best of friends in France, they had unconsciously maneuveredthemselves into a dangerous game, a slip in which meant a dance withdeath.
A tissue message from this very suspect that Roque was so eager toapprehend even then burned against the breast of Henri, a little wad ofpaper that now represented the price of the world to a pair of brightboys.
Condemned of mixing in the battle of wits between the grim Roque andhis strongest wily rival from over the sea, and it were better that theyoung aviators had tumbled from their aeroplane during the last highflight.
But those who traveled in spirit with Billy Barry, the boy from Bangor,Maine, U. S. A., and his plucky teammate, Henri Trouville, in Franceand Belgium, can assure that it is no easy task to catch this pairnapping.
The courage tempered by that first and continuous baptism of fire wasgood steel for any emergency.
Roque owned to himself that his quickfire had failed to get results.His informant, himself just returning from a secret mission on hostilesoil, had noted the movements of the sailor suspect on the aviationexhibit day, and also the attitude of Henri at the moment when themessage was passed. But of the message itself, the reporting agentcould have no knowledge. He was not near enough to detect a trick sodeftly done.
Roque and Ardelle had measured brains many a time and often, butheretofore at long range, and the former had never seen the latter inperson. Had such been the case, the French agent's invasion of theempire would have ended at Bremen, when these two masters of craft hadboth been guests at the same time of the same cafe.
Roque's unerring judgment had convinced him after the first questionthat the boys had no knowledge of the name Ardelle. Their firstprofession of ignorance was too real to be mere acting. The boys tookcare that the light that came to them as Roque proceeded did not shinein the direction of the lynx-eyed questioner.
The rigid lines in the face of the secret agent relaxed. These boys,after all, had once served him a good turn, with a skill, courage andfidelity far beyond the ordinary, and, perhaps, he was not sorry thathe had apparently found them guiltless.
"Now, young sirs," said Roque, resuming the manner of the merchant, "Ihave another little journey in store for you. I don't know for certainthat it will prove as exciting as the last jaunt we took together, whenyou located a shipload of guns for me, but maybe so, maybe so.
"After we have made our excuses to the lieutenant," he continued, "wewill go over to my humble home in the city, where I have some newclothes for you. I do not think you are wa
rlike enough to want totravel in any sort of uniform, especially with a simple tradesman likemyself."
It was on the tip of Billy's tongue to ask Roque why he kept up thatsort of talk with those who knew him without his mask, and when therewas no purpose to be served, but Billy concluded that he had better letwell enough alone.
A roomy carryall was in waiting at the further end of the paradeground, toward which the merry old merchant led his young friends, witha hand under the elbows of both. It was pardonable for the aviationlieutenant to grin when the trio were passing, after making theirexcuses.
It had not, however, occurred to Henri to smile a response. He was justthen indulging in a cold perspiration, caused by a leaping thought thatRoque might personally supervise their change of garments, and in thatcurious way of his light upon the tissue billet pinned on the inside ofhis (Henri's) shirt-front.
Because they had not fully understood the meaning of the dimly dashedmessage, Billy had suggested that they keep it for another sitting. Thepaper wad had not then turned into a torpedo.
Roque's house might have belonged to a retired gardener rather thanto the man with the iron grip who claimed it as home. The dooryardblazed with red flowers, and the well-kept lawn was lined by earth bedsspangled with blooms in colors beyond count.
"Welcome, young sirs."
Roque waved the way into a wide hall, at the end of which yawned agreat fireplace. Bowing before them the boys saw the tallest man theyhad ever met outside of a sideshow, a very giant, who wore a long graycoat, with a good day's output for a button factory in front.
"This is my man of business, young sirs--Paul Zorn."
The "young sirs" instantly formed the opinion that Zorn would have notrouble in cracking a cocoanut between the row of glittering teeth hedisplayed when Roque so introduced him.
"We are going to put our young friends into store clothes, Paul. I hopeyou will be able to properly fit them, and it will also be my care thatyou do."
"Confound the man," thought Henri, "he has never since he called meout of the machine shifted his eye long enough for me to get a hand onthat tissue, and now he's going to act as my valet. He's just full ofsuspicion."
Billy, also, had been figuring some in his mind just what would breakloose if Roque should find the sailor's note in Henri's possession.All of the powers of argument this side of the North Sea would thenavail nothing in the matter of convincing Roque that he had not beendouble-crossed.
The only crumb of comfort that Billy felt he could hope for if the dropfell was that Roque would quit his comedy acting behind the scenesfor the once--but that was scant comfort, surely, under this cloud ofanxiety.
The boys soon knew what Roque had meant by "store clothes," forit was a regular storehouse of the styles of all nations that themakeup magician maintained in the second floor back of his Hamburghome--uniforms galore, the garb of the fighting man in the Old Worldwar, known under the folds of Britain's Union Jack, the Tricolor ofFrance, the black double-headed eagle of Russia, the sable Cross of theGerman Empire; the attire of the dandy civilian, the sedate tradesman,the student, the clerk, the livery of house and carriage service, and,indeed, what not?
"A nice little collection, young sirs," observed Roque, which remarkagain prompted the giant Zorn to display his mouthful of shiningmolars.
"How do you think Paul would look in this outfit?"
Roque indicated on the display rack a regulation English uniform ofolive drab, with puttees, and a cap of the traditional French armsshape, but of khaki color.
Even if the boys had been in the mood to say that Zorn would look likethe Eiffel tower in any sort of uniform, Roque gave them no time tobreak in upon his humor.
"Nothing like keeping up-to-date, young sirs, in my business. It wasonly a few weeks ago that this new style French soldier first appearedin Havre. And here we can make his mate in a minute or two."
This cat and mouse play was wearing on Billy and Henri. Free ofanxiety, they might have enjoyed digging into the maze of disguises asthey would the pages of a popular detective story, but they had a playof their own to make, and no chance yet to make it.
"Now, Paul, how will we fix up these young flyers for a bit of groundwork? Something plain, yet neat, I think, will do for the sons ofDoctor Blitz--I am Blitz to-morrow, I believe, Paul?"
Zorn simply showed his teeth. He was not expected to answer.
"Now, my bird boys, get out of those uniforms and I'll make a pair oflikely students out of you. Do you prefer Heidelberg, the School ofArts, or the Conservatory? No matter, though, it is just a shift for ashort journey, and I guess I can make you up to pass muster."
All the time Roque was chatting principally for the amusement ofhimself and Paul, his hands were busy sorting a pile of clothing and hewas ready to start a couple of young Blitzes into society in the mostfinished style--from glazed cap to shiny shoes.
It was just at this moment that Billy was seized suddenly with a fit oflaughter, and his high glee was directed at Henri.
"Won't you set 'em going in that layout!" he howled.
With that he made a jump for his chum, as if to hurry the processof transformation. The playful effort commenced at the throat andscattered a few buttons. Henri resisted the attack, and for a second ortwo held Billy in close arm lock--time enough for the assailant to geta pin-jab in the thumb, and a wad of tissue paper in the clench of fourfingers!
Roque viewed the antics with a frown of impatience, but the assistantof grenadier size roared his approval of the fun.
Henri was brisk enough then in taking off the old for the new, and bythe time Billy commanded attention there was no occasion for worry.
Billy had swallowed the tissue!