THE ROAD TO PARIS.
"How far are we from Paris, Hal?" asked Chester, when they were once more
on the outside.
"Not more than eighty miles," was the reply. "You heard what the Kaiser
is said to have told his troops, didn't you?"
"No; what was it?"
"He told them that they were but two hours' ride, by automobile, from
their goal; by which he meant the French capital."
"Great Scott! I didn't realize they were so close."
"It is pretty close; but still, when you stop to think, not so close
after all; for the road to Paris, for the Kaiser's troops, at least, is
strewn with insurmountable obstacles, and death and danger lurk on
every hand."
"True," said Chester. "Besides which, the Kaiser is considerably farther
from his goal than he was some months ago."
"Yes," agreed Hal, "he has been forced a long way down the field, as we
would say on the gridiron."
Besides the document which they were to carry to the French Prime
Minister, General Joffre also had given the lads an order for one of
the large army automobiles, that they might make the trip with all
possible haste.
Hal accosted the proper officer, and soon the lads had the huge car at
their disposal. The officer also offered to furnish them with a
chauffeur, but Hal declined this offer, electing to drive the machine
himself. Chester climbed into the tonneau and Hal took his place at the
wheel. Both waved a good-by to the officer, and, under Hal's guiding
hand, the large automobile started off slowly.
Gradually Hal increased the speed, till at length they were flying along
the road at the rate of forty miles an hour. There were no speed
restrictions in the war zone, and as the car dashed over the ground Hal
kept a keen eye out for machines approaching from the other direction.
Chester leaned over the front seat and clutched Hal by the shoulder.
"At this rate," he shouted, "it won't take us long to get to Paris."
"About two hours," Hal shouted back, without taking his eyes from the
road ahead.
Through the towns of Villers and Cotterets the automobile flashed,
although Hal reducing his speed a trifle when the little cities came in
sight. On the road beyond, however, he proceeded to let the car out
again, and so they dashed into Nanteul.
Here, because of somewhat more congested traffic, Hal was forced to
reduce his speed considerably, and they went slowly through the
streets of the towns. Before setting out on their trip, Hal had spent
half an hour over the maps of the road, that there might be no danger
of their getting lost, and the lay of the country was firmly impressed
upon his mind.
As they wended their way slowly through the streets of Nanteul, there
came suddenly the sound of an explosion beneath them. Hal brought the car
to an abrupt stop and leaped lightly to the ground. Chester did likewise.
"Tire blown out," said Hal briefly, after a quick glance at the rear
left-hand wheel.
He walked to the rear of the car, where a spare tire should have been
ready for just such an emergency. There was none there.
The lad stepped back with an exclamation of dismay.
"What's the matter?" asked Chester.
"Matter is that we have no spare tire," replied Hal. "Where shall
we get one?"
"I don't know," returned Chester. "The chances are that every spare tire
within forty miles is in use. However, we might go into this restaurant
and make some inquiries."
Hal followed his friend into the restaurant, where Chester made known
their wants.
The proprietor, a smiling and effusive little Frenchman, greeted
them warmly.
"I myself have a tire that shall be yours," he told them. "It shall be
taken from my own car and put upon yours. Jacques!"
In response to this call a dapper little waiter came forward, and to him
the proprietor made known his desires. The waiter bowed and departed. The
proprietor turned to the lads.
"While Jacques is making ready messieurs' car," he said with a bow, "it
will give me pleasure to have messieurs lunch with me."
"How long will it take him to fix it?" asked Hal.
The little Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps fifteen minutes, perhaps twenty," he replied.
"In that event," said Hal, "we shall be glad to accept your invitation."
The Frenchman beamed upon them, and led the way to the rear of the little
room, where he motioned them to seats at a somewhat secluded table.
"We shall not be disturbed here," he said.
A light luncheon was soon upon the table, and the lads fell to with a
will, for they were quite hungry.
While the lads were in the midst of their meal, a group of French
officers, all young lieutenants, came boisterously into the restaurant
and took seats at a table close to where the lads sat. It was plain to
both boys that they had been drinking more than was good for them, and
they paid no attention to them beyond acknowledging their salutes.
One of the young officers pounded loudly on the table and demanded wine
immediately. The proprietor arose from the table where the lads sat and
hastened to attend to the wants of his customers himself, and soon
several bottles of wine were upon the table.
The proprietor filled the glasses of the young officers, and then, at a
nod from one of them, approached the table where the lads sat and poured
out two more glasses of the sparkling fluid, which he placed before Hal
and Chester.
The French officers at the other table rose, each with his glass in his
hand; then one of them looked toward Hal and Chester, and the latter,
realizing that the young Frenchman was about to propose a toast, also got
to their feet; but instead of holding their wine glasses aloft, the
glasses which they raised held nothing more than water.
The young Frenchman gave his toast.
"France!" he said gravely.
Each man raised his glass to his lips and drained it, but Hal and
Chester drank the toast in clear, cold water. As the first Frenchman
returned his glass to the table, he noticed that the wine before Hal and
Chester remained untouched. His face turned a dull red, and he
approached the lads.
"And why does not monsieur drink with us?" he demanded in a harsh voice,
thrusting his face toward Chester. "Can it be that you are spies?"
"No," said Chester, taking a step backward; "we are not spies. We
are British officers, and we drank your toast in water. We do not
drink wine."
"British officers!" repeated the Frenchman. "Then how comes it that you
wear the uniforms of French lieutenants?"
"That," replied Chester quietly, "is none of your business."
"None of my business!" echoed the Frenchman. "_Mon Dieu_! And what if I
make it some of my business, eh?"
"If I were you," said Chester, "I wouldn't think of such a thing."
The Frenchman took a step backward at the menace in the lad's tone; but
the other French officers now gathered about, and these reënforcements
apparently lent him courage.
"So!" he exclaimed. "It is that we are not good enough to drink
with you, eh?"
"No," replied Chester; "we simply don't drink. That is all. We appreciate
your courtesy in thinking of us, and we drank your toast in water, which
is the strongest drink we ever touch."
Hal, who up to this time had remained silent in his chair, now rose
to his feet.
"Look here," he said, facing the fiery Frenchman; "we are on important
business and haven't time to fool with you. My friend has explained why
we didn't drink wine with you. That should settle the matter."
"But it doesn't settle it," exclaimed the Frenchman, now in a rage. "You
refused to drink with us because you think us not good enough."
"All right, have it that way if you will," said Chester wearily. "If you
say so, then we didn't drink because you are not good enough."
"_Mon Dieu_!" cried the Frenchman, and his hand rested upon the butt of
his revolver. "You have insulted me, and for that you shall pay."
With one hand still resting upon his revolver, he stepped quickly
forward, and before Chester could realize what was up, he slapped the lad
sharply in the face.
This was too much for Chester. Up to this time he had remained perfectly
cool, but the blow in the face, light though it was, was more than he
could stand. He took a quick step forward, and as he did so his right
fist flashed out, and the young Frenchman, struck squarely upon the nose,
went to the floor with blood streaming from his wounded member.
There came several subdued exclamations from the others of the party, and
the hands of the other French officers dropped to their revolvers.
But before any of them could draw, Hal had whipped forth his own
automatics, and covered them.
"I'll blow the head off the first one who makes a move," he said sternly.
The French officers made no move to draw.
The Frenchman whom Chester had knocked down now got to his feet,
considerably sobered up by the force of the lad's blow. He was suffering
more from wounded dignity than anything else, and he was very angry. He
approached Chester.
"For that blow," he said very quietly, "monsieur shall give me
satisfaction."
"I'll repeat the dose if that's what you want," said Chester, also
thoroughly aroused, and he took a step forward.
The Frenchman drew back.
"_Non! Non!_" he exclaimed. "You shall give me satisfaction with swords
or pistols, as a gentleman, if, for the moment, you can be one."
"So," said Chester, "I am no gentleman, eh? I'll make you wish you had
never seen me, you little--"
"Hold on! Hold on!" interrupted Hal. "We have other business to attend
to. We have no time for duels."
But for the moment he had relaxed his vigilance, and the nearest officer,
with two quick blows, knocked his revolvers from his hand, and the lad
found himself covered.
"Now," said the young Frenchman to Chester, "will you fight or not?"
"I'll fight," replied the lad calmly.