The scheme evolved, or, perhaps, dreamed of by Tom Raymond in his
anxiety to get some word to the captive Harry Leroy worked well at the
start. When he and Jack asked permission to have half a day off to make
the trip to Paris it was readily granted. Perhaps it was because of
their exploit of the day before, when their sharp eyes had discovered
the camouflaged German battery and brought about its destruction, or
maybe it was because the day was a misty one,+ when no flying could be
done.
At any rate, soon after breakfast saw the two boys on their way to the
wonderful city--wonderful in spite of war and the German “super cannon,”
which had itself been destroyed.
Tom and Jack knew that unless their plans were changed, the two girls
and Mrs. Gleason would be at home in Paris, for they had a holiday once
in every seven, and it was their custom to come to their lodging for
a rest from the merciful, though none the less exceedingly trying, Red
Cross work.
Nor had the boys guessed in vain, for when they presented themselves
at the Gleason lodging, where Nellie Leroy was also staying, they were
greeted with exclamations of delight.
“We were just thinking of you,” said Bessie, as she shook hands with
Jack.
“And so we were of you,” Jack replied, gallantly.
“I thought of it first,” said Tom. “He'll have to give me credit for
that.”
“Yes,” agreed Jack, “I will. He's got a great scheme,” he added, as Mrs.
Gleason came in to greet the boys. “Tell 'em, Tom.”
“Is it anything about--oh, have you any news for me about Harry?” asked
Nellie eagerly.
“Not exactly news from him, but we're going to send some news to him!”
exclaimed Tom. “I want you to write him a letter-a real, nice, sisterly
letter.”
“What good will that do?” asked Nellie. “I've sent him a lot, but I
can't be sure that he gets them. I don't even know that he is alive.”
“Oh, I think he is,” said Tom, hopefully. “If the German airmen were
decent enough to let us know he was a prisoner of theirs, they would
tell us if--if--well, if anything had happened to him.”
“I think,” he went on, “that you, can count on his being alive, though
he isn't having the best time in the world--none of the Hun prisoners
do. That's why I thought it would cheer him up to let him know we
are thinking of him, and if we can send him some smokes, and some
chocolate.”
“Oh, he is so fond of chocolate!” exclaimed Nellie. “He used to love the
fudge I made. I wonder if I could send him any of that?”
Tom shook his head.
“It would be better,” he said, “to send only hard chocolate--the kind
that can stand hard knocks. Fudge is too soft. It would get all mussed
up with what Jack and I have planned to do to it.”
“What is that?” asked Bessie Gleason. “You haven't told us yet. How are
you going to get anything to Harry through those horrid German lines?”
“We're not going through the German lines we're going above 'em; in an
aeroplane. And when we get over the prison camp where Harry is held,
we're going to drop down a package to him, with the letters, the
chocolate and other things inside.”
“Oh, that's perfectly wonderful!” exclaimed Bessie. “But will the
Germans let you do it?”
“Well,” remarked Jack, “they'll probably try to stop us, but we don't
mind a little thing like that. We're used to it. Of course, as I tell
Torn, it's a long chance, but it's worth taking. Of course it isn't easy
to drop any object from a moving aeroplane and have it land at a certain
spot. We may miss the mark.”
“For that reason I'm going to take several packages,” put in Tom. “If
one doesn't land another may.”
“But if you do succeed in dropping a package for Harry in the midst of
the German stockade, won't the guards see it and confiscate it?”
asked Mrs. Gleason. “You know they'll be as brutal as they dare to the
prisoners--though of course,”' she added quickly, as she saw a look of
pain on Nellie's face, “Harry may be in a half-way decent camp. But,
even then, won't the Germans keep the package themselves?”
“I've thought of that,” replied Tom. “We've got to take that chance
also. But I figure that, in the confusion, Harry, or some of his fellow
prisoners, may pick up the package, or packages, unobserved. Of course
there's only a slim chance that Harry himself will pick up the bundle.
But it will be addressed to him, and if any of the French, British, or
American prisoners get it, they'll see that it goes to Harry all right.”
“Oh, of course,” murmured Mrs. Gleason. “But what was that you said
about the 'confusion?'”
“That's something different,” said Tom. “I'm counting on dropping a few
bombs on the German works outside the camp, to--er--well, to sort of
take their attention off the packages we'll try to drop inside the
stockade. Of course while we're doing this we may be and probably shall
be, under fire ourselves. But we've got to take that chance. It's a
mad scheme, Jack says, and I realize that it is. But we've got to do
something.”
“Yes,” said Nellie in a low voice, “we must do something. This suspense
is terrible. Oh, if I only could get word to Harry!”
“You write the letter and I'll take it!” declared Tom.
“And I'll help!” exclaimed Jack.
And then the letters--several of them, for each one wrote a few lines
and made triplicates of it, since three packages were to be dropped. The
letters, to begin again, were written and the bundles were made up.
They contained cigarettes, cakes of hard chocolate, soap and a few other
little comforts and luxuries that it was certain Harry would be glad to
get.
The rest of the plan would have to be left to Tom and Jack to work out,
and, having talked it over with their friends, they found it was time
for them to start to their station, since their leave was up at eleven
o'clock that night.
Getting permission for a week's absence was not as easy as securing
permission to go to Paris. But Tom and Jack waited until after a sharp
engagement, during which they distinguished themselves by bravery in.
the air, assisting in bringing down some Hun planes, and then their
petition was favorably acted on.
Behold them next, as a Frenchman might say, on their way to their former
squadron, where they were welcomed with open arms. They had to take the
commanding officer into their confidence, but he offered no objection
to their scheme. They must go alone, however, and without his official
knowledge or sanction, since it was not strictly a military matter.
And so Tom and Jack were furnished with the best and speediest machine
in their former camp, and one bright day, following a hard air battle
in which the Huns were worsted, they set out to drop the letters and
packages over the prison camp where Harry Leroy was held.
“Well, how do you feel about it?” asked Jack, as he and his chum stepped
into their trim machine.
“Not at all afraid, if that's what you mean.”
“No. And you know I didn't. I mean do you think we'll pull it off?”
“I have a sneaking suspicion that we shall.”
“And so have I. It's a desperate chance, but it may succeed. Only if it
does, and we get Harry's hopes raised for a rescue, how are we going to
pull that off?”
“That's another story,” remarked Tom. “Another story.”
They mounted into the clear, bright air, and proceeded toward the German
lines. Would they reach their objective, or would they be shot down, to
be either killed or made prisoners themselves? Those were questions they
could not answer. But they hoped for the best.