CHAPTER XIII. A DARING SCHEME

Tom sat up on his bunk and looked across at Jack, who was just showing

signs of returning consciousness--that is, he was getting awake. It was

the morning after the successful discovery of the hidden German battery,

and since this exploit the two lads had not been required to go on duty.

“What's the matter?” asked Jack, opening his eyes and looking at his

chum. “Has the mail come in? Any letters?”

“No. I was just thinking,” remarked Tom, and though his eyes were fixed

on Jack it was clear that his thoughts were somewhere else.

“Thinking, Tom? That's bad business. Have you seen the doctor?”

“Oh, shut off your gas!” ordered Tom. “You're side slipping. First you

know you'll come down in a tail spin and I'll have to be looking for a

new partner.”

“It's as serious as all that, is it?” asked Jack, as he began to dress.

“Well, in that case I withdraw my observation. Go ahead. How's the

visibility?”

“Low. We won't have to go up to-day, unless it clears.”

“Um. And I was counting on getting a few Huns right after breakfast.

Well, what's your think about, if you really were indulging in that

expensive pastime?”

“I was,” said Tom, and he got up and also proceeded to put on his

clothes. “I was thinking about Harry.”

“Oh!” and Jack's voice was decidedly different. It had lost all its

flippant tone. “Say, he certainly is in tough luck. I wish we could do

something for him--and his sister. Doubtless you were thinking of her,

too,” and a little smile curled his lips.

“Yes, I was thinking of Nellie,” conceded Tom, and he was so bold and

frank about it that Jack choked back the joke that he was about to make.

“I was thinking that we haven't done very much to redeem our promise.”

“But how can we?” asked Jack. “We haven't had a chance to do anything to

rescue Harry. Of course I want to do that as much as you do, but how is

it to be done? Can you answer me that?”

“We can't do it by just talking,” said Tom. “That's what I've been

thinking about. A scheme came to me in the night, and I've been waiting

to tell you about it.”

“Shoot then, my pickled blunderbuss,” returned Jack. “I'm with you to

the last drop of petrol.”

“Well, I don't know that it's so much,” said Tom. “It's only that we

ought to get word to Harry, somehow, that we're thinking of him and

trying to plan some way of rescuing him. We ought to tell him his sister

is here, too, and, at the same time we might drop him something to smoke

and a cake or two of chocolate.”

Jack looked at his chum in amazement. Then he burst out with:

“Say, while you're at it why don't you send him a piano, and an

automobile, too, so he can ride home when he wants to? What do you

mean--getting word to him? Don't you know that the beastly Huns will

hold up the mail as they please, and anything else we might send. They

don't even let the Red Cross packages go through until they get good and

ready. Talk about your barbarians!”

“Oh, I wasn't thinking of the mail,” replied Tom.

“No? What then?”

“Why, we know where he is held a prisoner--at least we have the name of

the prison camp, and he may be there unless he's been transferred. Of

course that's possible, but it's worth taking a chance on.”

“A chance on what?” asked Jack, “You haven't explained yet. What do you

plan to do?”

“Fly over the place where Harry is held a prisoner and drop down a

package and some letters to him,” said Tom. “Now wait until you hear

it all before you say it can't be done!” he went on quickly, for Jack

seemed about to interrupt.

“If Harry is held where he was first made a prisoner, it's a big place,

and there are thousands of our captives there, as well as French and

British. Well, where there are so many they have to have a big stockade

to pen 'em in, worse luck. And dropping a bomb on a big place is easier

than dropping one on a small object.”

“Say! Suffering snuffle-boxes!” cried Jack. “You don't mean to drop a

bomb in Harry's prison, camp, do you? Do you think he might possibly

escape in the confusion?”

“Nothing like that,” said Tom. “I mean drop a package containing some

smokes, some chocolate and a letter telling him we haven't forgotten

him and that we're going to try to rescue him, and for him to be on the

lookout. That could be done.”

“How?”

“By us flying over the place in our speedy Spad. We needn't make a very

big package, though the more of something to eat we can give him the

better, for those Boches starve our men. Let's get a week off--the

commanding officer will let us go. We can go to our old escadrille and

make arrangements to start from there. The boys will help us all they

can.”

“Oh, there's no doubt about that,” assented Jack. “They all liked Harry

as much as we did. But I can't see that your scheme will succeed. It's a

risky one.”

“All the more reason why it ought to succeed,” declared Tom. “It's the

fellows who take chances who get by. Now let's see if we can get a few

hours off to go to Paris.”

“Go to Paris? What for?”

“To see Nellie Leroy and have her write her brother a letter. It will be

better to have one come direct from her than for us merely to give him

news of her in one of our notes.”

“Yes,” agreed Jack, “I guess it would. And I begin to see which way the

wind blows. You wish to see Nellie.”

“Oh, you make me tired!” exclaimed Tom. “All you can think of is girls!

I tell you I'm doing this for Harry!”

“And I believe you, old top, and what's more, I'm with you from the word

go. It's a crazy scheme and a desperate one, but for that very reason it

may succeed. The only thing is that we may not get permission to carry

it out.”

“Oh, I don't intend that anyone shall know what our game is,” returned

Tom. “Of course the authorities would squash it in a minute. No, we'll

have to keep dark about that. All we need is permission to do a little

flying 'on our own,' for a while.”

“Suppose they won't let us do that?”

“Oh, I think they will, after what we did yesterday,” said Tom. “Come

on, let's get ready to go to Paris.”

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