OUT OF THE JAWS OF THE TRAP.
The summit of the low hill was not more than a quarter of a mile away
from the spot where Rod and his two chums had dismounted, to stare
aghast at what was transpiring before their eyes.
The hill was almost devoid of trees near its top, and a minute before
they had taken note of the fact that the bushes stood out against the
sky-line with nothing to interfere with the vision of an observer
perched aloft. But now it seemed as though the whole hilltop were alive
with moving figures. The declining sun glinted from hundreds of polished
guns and bayonets. And clearly could the boys see that these men were
garbed in the dun-colored uniforms distinguishing the Kaiser's troops.
"That settles our hash so far as getting a peek at the fighting goes,"
muttered Josh discontentedly, for he always gave a cherished object up
very lothfully.
"Oh! I wouldn't say that!" declared Hanky Panky; "there are other ways
of doing it, you can wager. That hill yonder isn't the only pebble on
the beach. What'll we do now, Rod?"
"Get out of this, and in a hurry, too," snapped the other instantly.
"We certainly can't keep on going forward, for a fact," admitted Josh,
still filled with gloom and disappointment; "those chaps'd gobble us up
like fun, and it'd be good-bye to our bully wheels."
"Course they'd take us for Britishers, from our khaki uniforms,"
admitted Hanky Panky; "and say, if they once got their hands on us
they'd snatch all our papers away in a hurry. I'm counting on keeping
that one our friend Albert gave us, to show the boys over in old Garland
when we get back home; because they'll never believe half we expect to
tell 'em if we don't have _some_ evidence to prove it."
"Huh! That isn't the worst by a long shot," continued Josh. "Don't you
see our having those papers on our precious persons would make it look
like we might be spies, working in the interest of Belgium and France?
You just better believe we don't want to be nabbed by the Kaiser's men,
not if we know what's good for us, and I reckon we do."
"The worst is yet to come!" exclaimed Rod just then; "look off there to
the left and tell me what you see moving across those fields toward the
road back of us."
Hardly had he said this than loud outcries arose from his two
companions.
"Why, Rod, they're whole regiments of the Germans, and they're deploying
so as to cut off our retreat, you see!" cried Hanky Panky, in a near
panic.
"I don't expect they've even noticed us as yet," Rod went on to say;
"but all the same if ever they do reach the road we'll be caught like
rats in a trap."
"Looks like we might be between two fires," said Josh, frowning
savagely; "what can we do about it, Rod?"
It was second nature for the other fellows to depend on their leader
whenever a knotty problem arose that needed solving. And seldom did Rod
disappoint their expectations. He came up smiling on the present
occasion.
"Get turned around in a hurry!" he called out; "we've one chance in
three to slip past before they get near the road. Are you both game to
try for it?"
"Sure!" bellowed Josh; "try anything once, is my motto!"
"I'll go where you lead, Rod," was the simple but eloquent tribute which
Hanky Panky paid the other; and Rod must have felt deeply gratified to
know he was able to inspire the hearts of his chums with so much
confidence.
"Then let's get busy!" was all he told them.
The rattle of the machines' exhausts instantly announced the start. Rod
led the way, with the others close behind him. He did not dread the
soldiers who were upon the hilltop, even though every movement made by
the fleeing motorcycle boys must be plainly seen by their observing
eyes; for the distance was too great for them to expect to damage the
mounts of the escaping enemy by any gunfire.
It was the forces coming up on the double-quick to reach the road over
which the three boys had so lately passed that aroused Rod's greatest
fears. He knew that with the speed of which the machines were capable
they could manage to sweep past before the troops reached the road; but
should the Germans open fire on them the result might be disastrous
indeed.
Hoping for the best, and ready to accept the desperate chances, they
dashed along, every fellow bending low in his saddle from some instinct
of self-preservation. It was a serious time for them, and with set teeth
they hastened into the danger zone. Now they approached the place where
there would be the most peril from a volley fired by the oncoming
soldiers, who of course ere now had seen them, and perhaps judged that
they must be British scouts caught in a trap.
Rod had changed his mind. He suddenly remembered that there was a branch
road leading off from the one they had come along. Of course it was a
blind move, because none of them could even give a guess where it went
to; but if they took it they might manage to slip out of the dilemma
into which the fortunes of war had thrown them.
"Be ready to follow me when I turn into a side road!" he called to the
others.
Undoubtedly they heard him, though they gave no answering shout. It
would have availed little, however, because just at that moment there
was a savage burst of firing back in the direction of the hill, and many
spent bullets dropped all around them, some even kicking up little
clouds of dust as they fell on the road.
Rod turned in the saddle to see if there was any sign of his chums
having been struck. So far all seemed well, for they were coming right
along after him, and without any indication of having received even the
slightest damage.
The forks of the road were now close at hand. Rod was never more
delighted in his life than to realize this, for once they turned into
this lesser thoroughfare he believed they would be protected by friendly
trees from the gaze of those on the hilltop.
A dreadful crash gave him another chilly feeling. He understood that it
must be the explosion of a shrapnel shell, not more than fifty feet
behind them. The gunner may have been on the hill with the gathering
troops; but in calculating the distance he had failed to take into
consideration the speed which the escaping boys were making.
Perhaps if given an opportunity to try a second shot he might be able to
correct this error of judgment, and the next shell would burst directly
over their heads.
Rod almost held his breath. He felt as though so much depended on the
next twenty seconds of time, perhaps even the lives of his two brave
comrades, as well as his own.
Then he arrived at the forks, and, making a detour, left the main road
to plunge into the smaller thoroughfare. Again Rod looked back to assure
himself that both of the other boys were as successful in turning as he
had been.
Yes, there was Josh, safe and sound, and Hanky Panky, wabbling a bit to
be sure, but keeping a firm grip on his speeding machine had now managed
to accomplish the deal.
Rod saw something suddenly explode on the road exactly where the forks
came. He knew full well it must be that second shrapnel shell, and only
for their sudden change of base, which the gunner had not calculated on,
it must have burst so near Hanky Panky that he might have suffered
seriously.
The outlook was better, though it seemed as yet too early to count on
security. Rod kept a keen watch on what lay before him. He would not
have been greatly surprised to discover more of the invading hosts
appear in view at any second; for they were undoubtedly in the midst of
a turning movement that had to do with the great battle opening up. When
an army of between two and three hundred thousand men, like that of Von
Kluck, the German commander, attempts a gigantic movement, it covers
many miles of territory, Rod understood.
After proceeding in this manner for several miles his hopes grew
stronger, and he actually felt as though there was a good chance for
them to elude the enemy. Josh was growling to himself, keenly
disappointed because they seemed to be running away from where momentous
things were taking place.
The night was not far distant, and Rod had to bear this fact in mind.
Where were they to secure anything to eat in the midst of all this
turmoil and confusion? So far as a bed went they could do without, nor
would it be the first time such a thing had happened in their eventful
career.
"Looks as if we might have outrun the Boches, Rod," called Josh, using a
term he had heard some of the Frenchmen apply toward the Germans, though
no one seemed able to explain where it had originated, or just what it
meant, save that it was intended as a term of derision, the same as
"Yanks" and "Johnny Rebs" passed current during the Civil War between
the States.
"Yes, that's all very well," replied Rod, "but it doesn't cut any figure
when we try to run across a house where we're going to get our suppers,
and find a place to sleep."
"Oh! we're sure to come to some sort of French farmer's place sooner or
later!" declared the confident Josh; "and if they're anything like the
little woman who took care of us this noon it'll be a picnic."
Ten minutes later, as they were negotiating a bad section of the road,
Rod made an announcement that sent a wave of thanksgiving through the
hearts of his chums.
"Farmhouse ahead half a mile or so," was the burden of his call; "I
glimpsed it against that bright place in the sky. As the sun's already
gone down we'll have to take our chances, and apply for lodging there."
"I'm with you, Rod!" called out Josh immediately, while Hanky Panky
added:
"I only hope none of the enemy slip up in the night and gather us in,
that's all."