CHAPTER VI.

A Murderous Act.

"Guess you're right," admitted Jimmie, picking up one of the objects.

"But they're about the size of candles, though. I see now this is

wrapped in heavy oiled paper. Besides, there isn't any wick. Why, it

bends like a gum drop!" he exclaimed, manipulating the object.

"For pity's sake, Jimmie, let that thing down easy! Do you want us all

to be blown to bits? That stuff is dynamite!"

"Huh! Dynamite!" scorned Jimmie. "Why, you're talking like a fish!

How'd dynamite get in there? That just came from the factory!"

"Sure thing," acquiesced Jack. "But remember who drove the truck to

this place with the engine on it! The hungry spy was on the job!"

"Well, Great Frozen Hot Boxes!" ejaculated Jimmie gingerly, holding the

object at arm's length. "If I ever catch him!"

"Lay it down gently. Don't let it drop!" advised Harry.

"It looks innocent enough--just like a big bunch of vaseline wrapped in

paper," commented Jimmie, depositing his burden on the ground.

"But for all that, the engine, and perhaps we boys, would have been

blown to bits if we had started the machine with those things in the

crank case!" advised Ned, approaching the spot.

"We're lucky!" Harry breathed. "How shall we get rid of it?"

"Let's drown it!" suggested Jack. "That's the best way!"

"It won't drown! They use it to blast under water!"

"Then we'd better explode it. Let's take it down to the beach, put it

on that old piece of wreckage and shoot at it."

With the prospect of a little target practice this suggestion

was accepted by all. No time was lost in securing automatics and

ammunition. The boys were shortly at the spot indicated.

"Now, boys, I'll tell you what we'll do," spoke up Jimmie. "We'll

pretend that we have caught the traitor and he's been sentenced to be

shot at sunrise. These two sticks of dynamite will be the spy and we

the firing squad. This is the wall. Are you ready?"

"Bloodthirsty as ever, I see!" laughed Ned as Jimmie became

enthusiastic over the game. "Always looking for trouble!"

"We ought to put a black mask on the Wolf," added Jack, "and give him

first shot. Executioners in the olden days wore black masks!"

"I'm no train robber!" protested Jimmie indignantly. "Keep the masks

for the other fellows. I'll stand up and play fair!"

"But you'll oblige us by taking the first shot, won't you?"

"Thanks!" dryly responded the lad, wrinkling his freckled nose.

"Firing squad, attention!" sung out Jack in an authoritative tone.

"'Tenshun! Ready! Aim! Fire!"

At the command Jimmie raised his automatic directed toward the target.

With the word "Fire" he rapidly touched the trigger, sending all eight

shots hurtling toward the dynamite.

Mingled with the reverberations of his shots a loud, sharp detonation

from the wreckage told the boys that Jimmie's aim had been true.

Pieces of timber thrown high in the air by the explosion came tumbling

to the beach in confusion. Astonished, the boys viewed the result.

"Just imagine where we would have been with that stuff in the crank

case!" whispered Jimmie in an awestruck tone.

"Let's get back to work and get out of this place!" suggested Jack.

"This makes me nervous! I want to get busy!"

Accordingly the boys hastened back to the hangar to still the alarm of

the watchman and proceed with the work in hand.

Long before dinner time the engine had been properly located, tried out

and pronounced fit. The boys were jubilant at the result.

"Now we're ready to start just as soon as we pack our kit!" announced

Ned. "Boys, let's make things hum around here!"

"Let's telephone Mr. Bosworth that the engine's running great and ask

him to arrange for our passage," suggested Harry.

"Good idea, Harry; get him on the wire for me, will you?"

Mr. Bosworth was pleased at the announcement. Arrangements had been

made, he said, to secure passage for them on a swift vessel leaving

New York two days later. They would thus have ample time for trials and

adjustments of the engine before dismantling the "Grey Eagle."

Accordingly the boys worked with a vim that afternoon.

"I tell you what," Ned spoke up as the boys were eating supper at the

close of a busy day, "we have been very fortunate so far in avoiding

serious trouble. I hope we get away all right!"

"Oh, we're the regular little side-steppers!" gleefully assented

Jimmie. "I wish we knew who the guys are who seem to be trying to put

us out of business. What is that saying, 'Know about it ahead of time

and you've got four arms'?"

"'Forewarned is forearmed,' Jimmie," corrected Jack. "You seem to think

only of boxing gloves and other things like that!"

"If I could get the chap that put that dynamite in the engine, tried to

burn the little old 'Grey Eagle' and has been spying on us, he'd think

I had brass knuckles on!" stoutly maintained the lad.

"He deserves it, all right!" agreed Jack. "But how will you manage

when you get across the water?" he continued. "Those fellows over there

don't understand English and you can't understand French!"

"Why, I'll point to my mouth and rub my belt buckle! Then they'll know

I'm hungry!" was Jimmie's reply. "That goes anywhere!"

A general laugh went around the group at this solution of linguistic

difficulties. Jimmie's appetite was a subject of general knowledge and

many a joke did the boys have at his expense.

"What will our first move be, Ned?" inquired Harry.

"Pass the potatoes!" put in Jimmie.

"After we land," replied Ned, ignoring the interruption, "we'll have to

discover whether this cotton steamer has arrived. If she has not, we'll

wait until we learn what port she makes. Mr. Bosworth stated that she

was the "Nymph" and cleared from Galveston for Le Havre. I figure that

we ought to beat her across by at least two days."

"But cotton is contraband, isn't it?" asked Jack.

"I believe it is," admitted Ned. "If discovered, she may be seized and

the chase lead us to another place. We must take a chance."

"Why should cotton be contraband?" demanded Jimmie. "They can't use

cotton to fight with! Who'd shoot a cotton bullet?"

"You forget, Jimmie, they shoot the bullets with the cotton!"

"Go on, now, you're trying to complete my education!"

"Fact," asserted Ned. "You see, cotton is used largely in manufacturing

high explosives. If all the cotton supply were exhausted there could be

no powder or other such explosive made, I understand!"

"What else do they use for making powder?"

"Well, they use a lot of nitrogen and so on. I don't know all the

ingredients. Each country has a formula of its own."

"Believe me," announced Jimmie forcefully, "when I get back I'm going

to read up on that subject in the encyclopedia!"

"When we get back with this traitor," announced Harry, "we'll all have

money enough from the reward so we can go through college!"

"Hurray! When we get back! Shall we decide which college we'll honor,

or shall we leave that for later consideration?"

"Better wait," advised Ned. "No knowing what might happen!"

How true his words were to prove! Could the boys have anticipated the

many incidents that were to occur and the dangers which confronted

them, perhaps their hearts would not have been so light. However, care

and gloomy forebodings had no place in their healthy young minds and

they discussed the future only with thoughts of success.

Three days later our four friends were standing in the bows of the

Compagnie Generale Transatlantique's steamer "Havre" watching with

interest the flying fish dart from the curling waves at the vessel's

prow. Already they had become familiar with the vessel, had visited

every place from stem to stern and had been favored by all the crew.

Although the rules of navigation forbid passengers occupying the bridge

while a vessel is under way, the captain had laughingly promised to

give the lads lessons in navigation. To avoid any complications he had

asked them to sign articles which would make them members of the crew

and thus permit them on the bridge under his directions.

Accordingly the lads had signed the papers, considering the matter a

huge joke, and had speculated on various ways of spending the sum of

one dollar each, which had been stipulated as the wage they were to

receive for their services as assistant stewards.

"We'll be rich by the time we get back!" Jimmie had declared.

Below decks were stowed the boxes containing their precious "Grey

Eagle" and other belongings. At the dock in New York the lads had

checked each box as it went on board, noting the number carefully and

comparing it with the list they had previously prepared.

Eagerly now they rehearsed every step of unpacking and assembling the

airship. A special duty was assigned to each lad so that no time need

be lost when they were once ashore in France. Between their excitement

over the proposed task, the wonders of the sea and the prospects of the

trip before them the lads were busy during all their hours.

As the Lizard Light was passed on their port and the vessel headed to

pass Cherbourg Light to starboard the boys felt that their journey was

nearing its end. Imagine their surprise to receive a summons to the

captain's cabin which the steward delivered.

Wonderingly the boys obeyed the call, speculating on the cause.

In answer to their ring an under steward received them and admitted

them to the captain's reception room. They had not long to wait before

the captain appeared, holding in his hand a paper which the boys at

once recognized as a wireless telegraph blank.

The serious look on the captain's face filled the lads with

apprehension. Wonderingly they conjectured what might be in store.

"Gentlemen," began the captain, "you probably know that I am a subject

of the country of France and that war has been declared between that

country and Germany?" He glanced from one to another.

"Yes, Captain," admitted Ned, acting as spokesman, "we understand that

such is the case and we are very sorry, indeed!"

"It pains me," continued the captain after a pause, "to state that I

have information here," indicating the wireless message, "which, if

true, makes the situation a very delicate one for you!"

Puzzled, the boys waited anxiously for the captain to continue.

"This message" the captain at length proceeded, "comes from some

private individual and, of course, cannot be regarded by me as

official. It states, however, that you four young men are German spies.

While I should dislike very much to do anything of the sort, it will be

my duty to detain you until you can assure me that this message is the

result of a mistake. I hope you will be able to do so!"

"That's our friend 'Hungry' again!" declared Jimmie. "Oh, the brass

knuckles for 'Hungry' when I lay my eyes on him!"

Wonderingly the captain listened to Jimmie's outburst and then turned

to Ned for explanation. It was forthcoming without delay, the boys

considering it better to be absolutely frank with their friend. All

the important features of their connection with the case were laid

before the captain, together with their passports and other means of

identification. As a final proof of their innocence of the charge, Ned

suggested that the captain send an inquiry by wireless to Mr. Bosworth.

This the captain was not willing to do, declaring that he was

satisfied the warning he had received was untrue.

"It seems," he said, "that this party is determined to cause you

trouble and in my estimation there is but one thing you can do to

protect yourselves against him while you are here."

"What is that?" asked Ned eagerly.

"Enlist in the aviation corps of the French army!"

Boy Scouts with Joffre; Or, In the Trenches in Belgium · 第 6 / 25 章