“Well, I guess we stay downstairs, to-day,” remarked Tom to Jack,
the day following their exhibition flights for the benefit of the air
students.
“Yes, it doesn't look very promising,” returned his chum.
Jack looked aloft where the sky--or what took its place--was represented
by a gray mist that seemed ready to drip water at any moment. It was
a day of “low visibility,” and one when air work was almost totally
suspended. This applied to the enemy as well as to the Yankees. For even
though it is feasible to go up in an aeroplane in fog, or even rain or
snow, it is not always safe to come down again in like conditions.
There is nothing worse than rain, snow or fog for clouding an aviator's
goggles, making it impossible for him to see more than a plane's length
ahead, if, indeed, he can see that far. Then, too, little, if anything,
can be accomplished by going aloft in a storm or fog. No observations
of any account can be made, and the aviator, once he gets aloft, is as
likely to come down behind the German lines as he is to descend safely
within his own.
That being the case, Tom and Jack, in common with their comrades of the
air, had a vacation period. Some of them obtained leave and went to the
nearest town, while some put in their time going over their guns and
glasses and equipment and machines.
Jack and Tom elected to do the latter. There was one very fast and
powerful Spad which they often used together, taking turns at piloting
it and acting as observer. They thought they might have a chance soon to
go over the German lines in this, their favorite craft, so they decided
to put in their spare time seeing that it was in perfect shape, and that
the two machine guns were ready for action when needed.
“'Would you rather do this than fly, Jack?” asked Tom, as they went
over, in detail, each part of the powerful Spad.
“I should say not! But, after all, one is just as important as the
other. I hope we get a good day to-morrow. I'd like to do something
toward seeing if we can't get Harry out of the Boche's clutches,” and he
nodded in the direction of the German lines.
“'Tisn't going to be easy doing that,” remarked Tom. “I'd ask nothing
better than to have a hand in getting him away, but I haven't yet been
able to figure out a shadow of a plan. Have you?”
“The only thing, I can think of is to organize a big raid on the section
where he's held--I mean somewhere near the German prison--and if we
bombed the place enough, and created enough excitement, some of us might
land and get Harry and any others that might be with him.”
Tom shook his head.
“That'd be a pretty risky way of doing it,” he said.
“Can you think of a better?” Jack demanded quickly.
“Not off hand,” came the reply. “We've got to stew over it a bit. One
thing's sure--we've got to get Harry out, or his sister never will feel
like going back home and facing the folks.”
“That's right!” agreed Jack. “We've got a double motive for this. But
I'm afraid it's going to be too hard.”
“That's what we thought when we rescued Mrs. Gleason from the old castle
where Potzfeldt had her caged,” retorted Tom. “But you made out all
right.”
“Yes; thanks to your help.”
“Well, we'll both work together again,” declared Tom. “And now let's
try this Lewis gun. The last time we were up it jammed on me, and yet it
worked all right on the ground.” So they tested the guns, looked to the
motor, and in general made ready for a flight when the weather should
clear.
This happened two days later, when the fog and mist were blown away and
the blue sky could be seen. In the interim the artillery and infantry
on both sides had not been idle, and there had been some desperate
engagements, with the brigaded American troops making a new name for
themselves.
“I guess there'll be something doing to-day,” remarked Tom, as he and
Jack tumbled out of bed at the usual early hour. “Clear as a bell,” he
announced, after a glance from the window. “Shouldn't wonder but what we
went over their lines to-day.”
“And I suppose, by the same token, they'll be coming over ours,” and
Jack nodded to indicate the Germans.
“Let 'em come!” exclaimed Tom. “It takes two sides to make a fight, and
that's what we're here for.”
Hardly had the two air service boys finished their breakfast, than an
orderly came to tell them the commanding officer wanted them to report
to him. They hurried across the aviation ground, toward the headquarters
building, noting on the way that there were signs of unusual activity
among the newer members of the American air forces, as well as among the
French and British veterans.
“Must be going to make a raid,” observed Jack.
“Something like that--yes,” assented Tom.
“Hope we're in on it, and the commanding officer doesn't have us take
some huns up to show 'em what makes the wheels go around,” went on Jack.
“Of course that's part of the game, but we've done our share.”
However, they need have felt no fear, for when they stood before the
commanding officer, saluting, they quickly learned that they were to go
on a special mission that day--in fact as soon as they could get ready.
“I want you two to see if you can discover a battery of small guns that
have been playing havoc with our men,” he said, as he looked up from a
table covered with maps. “They're located somewhere along this front,
but they're so well camouflaged that no one has yet been able to
discover them.
“I want you boys to see if you can turn the trick. The guns have killed
a lot of our men, as well as the French and English. We've tried to rush
the emplacement, but we can't get a line on where it is for it's well
hidden. I asked permission of the British commanding general to send up
two American scouts, and he mentioned you boys. Get your orders from the
major, and good luck to you.”
“Do you want us to go together or separately?” asked Tom.
“Together--in a double plane. I might say that we are going to try a
raid on a big scale over the enemy's lines, and you two will thus have a
better chance to carry out your observations unmolested. The Hun planes
will have their hands full attending to our fighters, and they may not
attack a single plane off by itself. We'll try to draw them away from
you.
“At the same time I might point out that there is nothing sure in this,
and that you may have to fight also,” concluded the commanding officer,
as he waved a dismissal.
“Oh, were ready for anything,” announced Tom. And as he and Jack got
outside he clapped his chum on the back, crying: “That's the stuff! Good
old C.O. to send us! That's what we've been looking for! Maybe we'll
have time to drop down and shoot some of the Huns that are guarding
Harry.”
“No chance of that--forget it now,” urged Jack. “We'll clean up this
location trick first, and then think of a plan to get Harry away. It
sounds hard to say it, but it's all we can do. Orders are orders.”
They were glad they had made ready the speedy Spad plane, for it was
in this that they would try to locate the hidden battery, and, having
received detailed instructions from the major in command, the two lads
climbed into their air plane and started off.
The day was clear and bright, just the sort for aeroplane activity; and
it was evident there would be plenty of it, since, even as they began
climbing, Tom and Jack saw planes from their own aerodrome skirting
ahead of and behind them, while, in the distance and over German-held
territory, were Fokkers and Gothas with the iron cross conspicuously
painted on each.
Tom and Jack had been given a map of the front, their own and the German
lines being shown, and the probable location of the hidden Hun battery
marked. This they now studied as they started over the front, Jack being
in front, while Tom sat behind him, to work the swivel Lewis gun.
Their Spad machine was one that could be controlled from either seat, so
that if one rider was disabled the other could take charge. There
were two guns, one fixed and the other movable, and a good supply of
ammunition.
“Well, I guess there'll be some fighting to-day,” observed Tom, as Jack
shut off the motor for a moment, to see if it would respond readily when
the throttle was opened again. “They're closing in from both sides.”
And indeed the Allied planes were sailing forth to meet a squadron of
the enemy. But none of the Hun craft seemed to pay any attention to Tom
and Jack. Steadily they flew on until an exclamation from Jack caused
Tom to look down. He noted that they were over the German lines, and
headed for the probable location of the battery that had been such a
thorn in the side of the Allies.