ON GUARD.
"You will restore to me my papers, I hope?" remarked the man.
"If you mean the naturalization papers that stamp you as one Hans
Larsen, formerly of Sweden," replied Frank, "I am going to put them in
your inside pocket. But they will be taken by the officials, and I doubt
if you ever see them again. They must know they are either stolen,
bought, or forged, and that you only carry them to give trouble in case
you are arrested."
He was as good as his word, for he had taken the papers to show the
Major in case any proof were desired after his story had been told.
Then came the file of British soldiers, direct from Major Nixon. They
brought a note from the officer to Frank and his chums, desiring that
the prisoner be turned over, and also stating that the word he had given
Frank would be religiously kept.
The spy walked away in the midst of his guards, who had orders not to
let him communicate with anyone on the way. In order to make more
positive of this, they had a covered wagon close by, in which he was to
be conveyed to the jail.
"I'm glad we're free from him," said Billy, after they had watched the
party leaving the stockade.
"You don't think there would be any attempt made at trying to rescue him
while they're on the way?"
"Sugar and sandwiches, but I should hope not!" exclaimed Pudge.
Frank did not seem to be worrying about such a remote possibility.
"No, I don't think they're numerous enough to risk an encounter with a
dozen armed Tommies looking for trouble, just as Pudge here would look
for his breakfast," he observed.
"Now we've got the place all to ourselves," said Billy. "There's such a
thing as being overcrowded, as the backwoodsman remarked when he heard
that another family had started a clearing three miles away from his
shack. But I'd like to have been down in Dunkirk when they sighted those
gulls coming sailing along, ever so high up in the air."
"Dories and dingbats, but I warrant you there was some excitement to the
square inch," Pudge insinuated.
Frank laughed as he stretched himself out on a bench to rest.
"You missed a grand sight," he told them.
"Lots of people scared, I take it?"
"Well, they were fairly crazy," he was told. "If a menagerie of wild
animals had broken loose and come to town it could hardly have created
more of a panic than when that cry sounded through the streets: 'The
Germans are coming!' Men, women and children all ran this way and that.
Some dodged down into cellars, while others crawled under front
door-stoops, as though that would save them in case a bomb burst close
by. It was a panic, all right, and I never saw anything like it in all
my experience."
"They must have felt silly after they found out what it really was?"
Billy went on to say.
"Oh, not so very much," he was told by the one who had been on the spot,
and was in a position to relate things at first hand. "You see a good
many started to make out they knew the dots must be birds, and said they
had just been carrying on in that excited way for a lark."
"To be sure," declared Billy, "that's the way lots of people always try
to crawl through a little hole when caught with the goods on. Some of
the others, I reckon, laughed it off, and admitted that they didn't care
to be blown up; that they got plenty of that sort of thing at home, as
it was. But, Frank, how about our own program?"
"You mean about staying here and being ready to start off when we get
the word--is that it, Billy?"
"Yes; shall we stick it out here the rest of the day?"
"I think," said Frank, "none of us have any need to leave the place
again until we start the motors and open up on the second trial spin,
this time with some of the best British aviators along to observe how
the _Sea Eagle_ carries herself."
"Do you think there will be a representative of the French Government
aboard to take notes along the way?" asked Billy.
"That's my understanding of the case," he was told.
"Well, it ought to settle the matter of our business, Frank."
"Just what it must," came the reply. "We'll give an exhibition of all
the _Sea Eagle_ is capable of doing in a way to make those other
seaplanes look sick. Then we'll expect to have the deal closed. That's
my understanding of the bargain."
"But, Frank, whatever are we going to do for eats between now and
to-morrow, when we come back from the raid up the coast?" asked Pudge,
with a despairing expression on his fat face that would make anyone
believe he had lost his last friend; or else just heard the news that he
was to be hanged in three hours.
"I've fixed all that," the other told him, "and right now I think I see
the wagon coming with a lot of good stuff, such as can still be had in
Dunkirk if you've got the francs to buy it with."
Pudge was comforted by hearing such glorious news. He immediately took
up his position outside the door from where he could keep an eye on the
road close to the stockade gates.
"What are you doing out there, Pudge?" called Billy.
"Sandwiches and sauerkraut, but you wouldn't want to run the risk of
having that grocery wagon miss the place and drive past, would you,
Billy?" demanded the sentinel; and the others let him alone, knowing
full well that Pudge would not allow any accident of that sort to come
about as long as his voice held good.
It turned out that Frank had bought a whole assortment of things to eat;
indeed, Billy declared he believed they could stand a siege of a whole
week with that lot of foodstuffs to fall back on.
"Three days, anyhow," assented Pudge, who evidently had a different
viewpoint from Billy when it came to sizing up the lasting qualities of
edibles.
With the aid of the little stove they prepared a lunch, and really
enjoyed it immensely. Pudge seemed to be reminiscent, for he brought up
numerous half forgotten times of the past when in company with Harry
Chester they had enjoyed many a similar repast, cooked under strange
conditions it might be, but never to be wholly forgotten by those who
took part in the feast.
Then the afternoon came and it was a long one to the three chums shut up
for the most part in the hangar. The fire was kept up in the stove,
because there was a tang to the February air so close to the Channel.
Frank went carefully over every part of the seaplane to make certain it
was in the best shape possible for the long journey they had before them
under conditions that no one could possibly foresee. He did not mean to
neglect the slightest thing that could add to their comfort and safety.
Pudge had managed to make himself a pretty cozy nest with a couple of
blankets, and he put in part of the afternoon "making up for lost
sleep," he told them. It was a standard joke with them that the fat chum
was always far behind in his customary allotment of sleep; somehow or
other he never did seem able to fully catch up.
Billy and Frank often stepped outside and took an observation. This not
only included the weather but the conditions existing on the harbor,
where there were boats of various descriptions to be seen, for the most
part unloading war material sent from Great Britain in spite of
Germany's submarine warfare.
"This has been a pretty good day for aërial work, Frank," suggested
Billy. "What about the prospects for to-morrow?"
"I think we can count on it holding about as it is for another
twenty-four hours," came the answer, "and then a change is about due.
It's still cold enough to snow, and I expect we'll meet a lot of snow
squalls when we're making that trip up the Belgian coast."
"Do you really believe there'll be that many seaplanes in the
bunch--thirty or more, the Major told us?"
"They have planned to make this raid a record breaker, it looks like,"
said Frank, "and will try to get out every machine they have a pilot
for. It's going to be a feather in our caps to be able to say we
accompanied them, no matter what amount of damage they manage to inflict
on the submarine bases, or railway stations and gas or oil tanks of the
German army."
"Well, I think we're in great luck to get the chance to go along, Frank;
though, of course, we don't mean to throw a single bomb, or do the least
thing to harm the Kaiser's army. As I look at it the main purpose of our
being allowed to accompany the squad of raiders is to let them see what
cards we're holding in this invention of Dr. Perkins. The French
Government officials want to be shown, just as if they were from
Missouri."
"They'll see a few things calculated to make them open their eyes,
unless I miss my guess," said Frank, with quiet confidence; for he knew
what the _Sea Eagle_ type of hydro-aëroplane was capable of doing when
properly handled, and only longed for the opportunity of showing those
British aviators, some of them well-known air pilots, the crowning
triumph of Yankee ingenuity.
"It's getting on toward evening now, with the sun near setting time,"
remarked Billy, as though he felt that a load was taken from his
shoulders with the passing of that almost interminable day.
"There's a steamship coming in," Frank said. "It's taking all sorts of
chances of being torpedoed, even if the Germans have said they are
holding back until the eighteenth to start the reign of terror."
"Do you really think the submarine blockade is going to work?" asked
Billy.
"Honestly I don't see how it can," Frank replied. "They have only a
certain number of the latest undersea vessels capable of staying away
from a base for a week. These can't be everywhere, and are liable to be
sunk by torpedo boats. I've no doubt the Germans will punch holes in a
good many small steamers; but as a rule the big ones can run away from
them. I guess it's a whole lot of a bluff, between you and me."
"Will Great Britain dare them to do their worst, do you think, Frank?"
"Yes, even knowing that they threaten to sink merchant vessels and their
crews of noncombatants without giving warning. Somehow or other it does
seem to me that Germany is doing everything possible to make outsiders
distrust her. But I suppose we can't look at things the same way they
must from inside, especially since England threatens to _starve_ Germany
into submission."
"There's the sun going to set," remarked Billy.
They stood and watched it go down, and the gray of evening begin to
creep across the cold sea. So that night in February closed in. Like a
grim phantom the steamer came stealing into the harbor, with few lights
showing.
"Let's go in where it's warm and comfortable," said Billy. "Frank, since
we have plenty of stuff along with us why not make an allowance of
coffee for the men who are standing guard over our plant here. A mug of
hot coffee would take the chill out of their bones, I'm thinking."
"A good idea, Billy, and thank you for suggesting it. We'll find what
Pudge says, and carry it out. With the lantern we can make the rounds,
and see that no sentry is omitted."
With such sentiments spurring them on, the boys entered the hangar and
found that Pudge was already deep in the pleasing duty of getting supper
ready. Hardly had they mentioned the subject of treating the guards to a
cup of hot coffee than he announced that he was heartily in accord with
the scheme.