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THE BIG FIVE MOTORCYCLE BOYS ON THE BATTLE LINE
Or
With the Allies in France
by
RALPH MARLOW
Author of
"The Big Five Motorcycle Boys Under Fire," "The Big Five Motorcycle
Boys at the Front," "The Big Five Motorcycle Boys' Swift Road Chase,"
"The Big Five Motorcycle Boys in Tennessee Wilds," "The Big Five
Motorcycle Boys Through by Wireless," "The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on
Florida Trails."
A. L. Burt Company
New York.
Copyright, 1916
By A. L. Burt Company
THE BIG FIVE MOTORCYCLE BOYS ON THE BATTLE LINE
[Illustration: THERE WAS A SUDDEN SPITEFUL CRACK FROM THE REAR, AND
JOSH DUCKED HIS HEAD INVOLUNTARILY. The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on
the Battle Line. Page 35.]
THE BIG FIVE MOTORCYCLE BOYS ON THE BATTLE LINE.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE STREETS OF ANTWERP.
"Good-bye, Elmer, and you, too, Rooster!"
"It's too bad we have to hurry home, and break up the Big Five
Motorcycle Boys' combination, just when we've been having such royal
good times over in the country of the Great War!"
"But there was nothing else to do, Elmer, when you got that cable
message telling you to take the first steamer home, as your mother was
about to undergo an operation, and wanted to see you first."
"And Rooster here chose to go along with you, because he's got such a
tender chicken heart he just hates to see all the misery and suffering
these poor Belgians are enduring."
"There's the last call to go ashore. Come along, Josh, and you too,
Hanky Panky. Boys, to be honest with you I more than half wish I was
going along. Home would look mighty fine to me just now."
"Oh! shucks! you'll soon get over that feeling, Rod," said the lanky boy
called Josh, taking the alarm at once, for he seemed perfectly contented
to stay where he was; "just wait till we're spinning along on our bully
machines down through Ostend, Dunkirk, and Calais to Boulogne, where we
may take a steamer to the U. S. if we can find berths."
"Be sure to keep a regular daily log of your happenings, Josh, so we can
look it over when you get back home," begged the boy who went by the
strange nick-name of "Rooster," doubtless because he crowed so much over
his accomplishments.
"Good-bye, and good luck!" called out Elmer, waving his hand again.
"Remember us to everybody in Garland, particularly all the pretty
girls!" shouted Hanky Panky, after the last exchange of handshakes, when
with his two chums, Rod and Josh, he hurried down the gang-plank to the
dock.
The steamer for London was leaving its Antwerp pier, and all seemed
excitement. Many people were already fleeing madly from Belgium, now
partly overrun by the vast invading army of the German Kaiser. At any
day Antwerp was likely to be bombarded by the tremendous forty-two
centimetre guns that had reduced the steel-domed forts at Liege and
Namur, and allowed the conquering hosts entrance to Brussels.
While the trio on the dock continued to frantically return the salutes
of their two chums as long as they could distinguish their figures on
the hurricane deck of the staunch steamer bound down the Scheldt, a few
brief explanations might not come in amiss. Possibly some of those who
start to read this book may not have had the pleasure of meeting Rod and
his four friends in previous volumes of this series.
The boys who wore the khaki lived in the enterprising town of Garland
across the water in the States. How they came by the fine motorcycles
they owned would be too long a story to narrate here, and those who are
curious about the circumstances must be referred to earlier stories for
the details.
They called their organization the Big Five because they planned to
carry out numerous enterprises that might have daunted less courageous
spirits. Rod Bradley was really the leader, though Elmer Overton, the
Southern boy, often proved himself a good second.
Then there were Henry Jucklin, known to all his mates as "Hanky Panky"
because of his skill as a magician; Josh Whitcomb, with a bit of the
Yankee in his composition; and Christopher Boggs, otherwise "Rooster."
They had covered many thousands of miles with those wonderful steel
steeds, and met with some surprising adventures up to the time when an
opportunity arose allowing them to go abroad. A wealthy old gentleman of
their town, who knew their calibre well, had given them an important
errand to carry out, and stood responsible for their expenses to the
other side of the Atlantic.
Coming leisurely down the Rhine country they had been suddenly caught by
the war tide; and as it was in Antwerp that Rod expected to meet the
party he sought they had to strike out boldly for that far-distant city.
Strange happenings had marked their course through the war-stricken
country of Belgium. Indeed, several times it looked very much as though
they would never attain their goal, but might be sent back as prisoners
of war to Germany.
Of course, their sympathies were mainly with the Allies, and
particularly after they had seen with their own eyes how the poor
Belgians, fighting heroically to defend their native land, were being
cowed by the seemingly limitless legions of the Kaiser.
But in the end they reached Antwerp, and had about decided to make a run
down the coast to Boulogne, where they might take a steamer home, when
that fatal cable message upset their plans.
Elmer and Rooster would not hear of the others accompanying them home.
Josh, too, was really wild to see more of the great war. So finally Rod,
finding that Hanky Panky seemed of the same mind, consented to stay over
for a week or two longer.
Now that their two chums had left them the boys wandered about the city
on the Scheldt and tried to amuse themselves as best they could. But
they soon found that ordinary sights no longer availed to satisfy them.
"You see, the war fills the air wherever you go," explained Josh, to
account for this seeming lack of interest. "What does anybody want to go
snooping into things that had to do with battles of centuries ago, when
the biggest war the world ever knew is raging right now through Northern
France and Belgium?"
"Yes, with Great Britain dragged in, and perhaps Italy and other
countries to follow, not even excepting our own land," added Rod,
seriously.
"Why," spoke up Hanky Panky, excitedly, "everywhere you look you see
signs of the war game right here in Antwerp. Soldiers are marching
through the streets to the cheers of the people. Artillery is dashing
this way and that. Armored cars can be seen starting out to harry the
enemy with their Maxims. And hardly an hour of the day but half a dozen
British or Belgian aeroplanes soar above us, doing all kinds of stunts
calculated to make your hair stand on end."
"It's the greatest thing that ever happened, barring none," declared the
delighted Josh, looking as though he could almost hug himself, such was
his joy; "and let me tell you we're the lucky boys to be on the spot
when history is being made so fast."
"The party I'm to see for Mr. Amos Tucker," remarked Rod, "will be in
the city to-night. I'll get that out of my system; and once I send the
documents by registered post I'm free for anything that crops up."
"Hurrah! then we'll have a chance to climb aboard our wheels again, and
strike out for France!" said Josh. "Here's hoping we may run across a
corner of the big fight that's taking place north of Paris. I'd be a
happy fellow if I could actually see those brave Frenchmen, backed up by
the British troops, meet the boastful Germans who believe they can clean
up the whole world."
Rod shrugged his shoulders, and made a wry face.
"We've already seen something of a battle from a distance, you remember,
Josh," he told the other, "and all of us decided that it was simply
_terrible_. For my part, while I'd like to see the French in action
I'm not going out of my way to take chances. The way they fill the air
with deadly missiles from quick-firers and with bursting shrapnel gives
you a cold feeling."
"Rod," said Hanky Panky, who somehow had not been taking part in this
talk, "do turn and watch that poor little woman over there. She's in a
peck of trouble, I reckon, by the way she acts, first looking at a paper
she's been reading, and then wiping her eyes with her apron."
"You mean the one with the dog team, and the tall, brass-mounted milk
cans, don't you, Hanky Panky?" asked Josh quickly. "I saw her a while
ago, and heard her speak to the little child in wooden sabots that is
tagging at her heels. It was pure French she used, and I'd wager a
cookey she isn't a Belgian at all. There are lots of people from
northern France in Antwerp, you know."
"Well, she's having a hard time of it, some way or other," added Hanky
Panky. "You can see her hug and kiss the little girl, and then read her
letter again. Now she looks around as if wondering where she can find a
friend. Say, Rod, you can speak French right well; what's to hinder our
finding out what the matter is? Everybody in Antwerp is too excited
about the war to bother over a little thing like a poor French woman's
troubles."
Thus appealed to Rod laughed good-naturedly, and then led the way
straight toward the spot where the owner of the dog team stood.
Evidently she was on her rounds delivering fresh milk, when overtaken by
bad news.
When Rod addressed her in her native tongue she looked up appealingly.
Evidently she must have liked the appearance of the three frank-looking
American boys, for she quickly commenced to talk volubly, all the while
shrugging her shoulders, and emphasizing her words with gestures and
face expressions.
The other boys could see that she was comparatively young, and not bad
looking. As for the child, they were greatly smitten with her pink
cheeks and big black eyes, as well as the coy glances the little thing
gave them.
Presently Rod was seen to be reading a letter she handed him, and which
she may have taken from the mail while on her milk route. Again Rod
conversed with her, greatly to the mystification of his comrades, who
thought he would never stop.
Finally Rod turned toward them.
"For goodness' sake tell us what it all means, Rod!" urged Hanky Panky.
"Yes; has her landlord threatened to turn her out unless she can pay the
rent, and ought we put up our spare cash to help settle the bill?"
demanded Josh.
"Oh! it's a thousand times more serious than that," said Rod, which
remark, of course, aroused the curiosity of his chums more than ever.
"Get some speed on then, Rod, and give us the gist of the business,"
said Hanky Panky appealingly; "of course there's a heap of trouble in
the old city just now, but when a case pokes right out in front of you
it's hard to pass by. If we could help the little French woman and her
pretty child, why, we ought to wake up and do something."
"Wait till you hear how the thing stands before you get so rash," warned
Rod, who knew only too well the hasty ways of his two chums. "This
little woman's name is Jeanne D'Aubrey. Her husband is a French
reservist named Andre. He was called to the colors as soon as the war
broke out, leaving her here in Antwerp with her little daughter, and a
living to make from her few cows."
"But what was the paper you read, Rod?" asked impatient Josh.
"I'm coming to that," the other told him; "it is a very important letter
she has just received from a law firm in Paris, informing herself and
husband that an old uncle, Jasper, has died some time since, leaving his
estate to Andre on condition that he sign a certain document within a
given time. It now lacks just three weeks of the limit, and unless his
signature is properly placed there, and witnessed by three reliable
people, the property will go to another nephew, one Jules Baggott by
name, who has long hoped to inherit it."
"Great Scott! that is tough, I should say!" ejaculated Josh.
"And her husband away at the French war front, perhaps shot long before
now in the bargain," muttered Hanky Panky soberly; "because we've heard
that there's been bloody fighting all along the line between the French
border and in front of Paris, where General Von Kluck's German army is
already pressing."
"You can't wonder then that the poor little woman is overcome with the
terrible trouble that has fallen on her," explained Rod. "Once that
document is properly signed and she would be fixed for life, no matter
what happened to her soldier husband. But she hardly knows what to do.
It is utterly out of the question for her to try and find him; and she
doesn't know any person reliable enough in Antwerp to trust them with
the precious papers. You see, this other cousin, Jules, is here in town,
for she has even had him call upon her lately; and she now believes he
knows of his uncle's will, so that he might try to keep the messenger
from ever meeting Andre!"
Rod paused just there. Perhaps he knew his auditors so well that he
really anticipated what the effect would be upon both Josh and Hanky
Panky. The pair looked at the French woman, who was observing them with
such an eager, hungry expression on her face. She wrung her hands
piteously just then, as though she saw the one chance to gain a little
fortune for herself and child slipping away for lack of a brave champion
who would undertake the task of finding her Andre.
That was the finishing stroke. Josh had been hesitating, wondering
whether he ought to make a suggestion that, springing from his generous
heart, was already trembling on his lips.
"Rod!" he exclaimed, with boyish animation.
"Yes, what is it, Josh?" asked the other, encouragingly, for just then
the child had shot him a roguish, pathetic glance that went straight to
his heart.
"Why, I was going to say we've managed to carry out a lot of things
before now that looked as hopeless as searching for a needle in a
haystack. Rod, we might stand a chance of finding this same Andre, if
you thought it was up to us to deliver the goods!"
Hanky Panky uttered a snort as he expressed his opinion.
"I move we undertake the mission," he remarked eagerly; "I'd never sleep
decent again if we left this poor little woman in the lurch after she'd
told us her story. Rod, shut your eyes and make it unanimous! The
Motorcycle Boys in the saddle again!"