THE NIGHT ALARM.
Their arrival at the dooryard of the roadside farm was signalized by a
frantic clatter. Dogs barked, chickens squawked on their way to their
roosts, ducks quacked, and even a calf tethered to a stake in the rear
of the house set up a pitiful bleating, as if under the conviction that
the dreaded butcher's cart had arrived, and the last hope of life now
hung by a slender thread.
"One thing I'm glad to see," announced Josh, as they came to a halt
amidst all this bustle and clamor.
"What's that?" asked Hanky Panky, in duty bound.
"The terrible Germans have not come this way so far, that's sure,"
remarked the observing one.
"I'd like you to tell us just how you know that?" demanded the other.
"Shucks! open your eyes, and look around you, my friend. Would it stand
to reason that a bunch of hungry soldiers, raiding through an enemy's
country, could pass by, and allow all this fat of the land to exist?
Ducks, and chickens, and pigs, and calves would have gone to make up a
German feast this night. And like as not the dogs would have been shot
in cold blood because being French they had dared to bark at the
uniforms of the Kaiser's men."
"Guess you're right there, Josh," admitted Hanky Panky, easily convinced
when the evidence was there before his very eyes.
"Here are the good people of the house come to see what's broken loose
to give their live stock such a scare," observed Rod just then.
A woman with a tottering, silver-haired old man just behind her,
appeared around the corner of the low building. Possibly they had been
alarmed by hearing the splutter of the coming motorcycle brigade's
machines, and hesitated about showing themselves. But when Rod advanced
toward them, making a courteous salute, and they saw what a frank boyish
face he had, somehow they lost all fear.
Arrangements were soon made that assured the lads some sort of
entertainment. That they were not the terrible Germans was enough for
the good woman of the farm house. In her mind the whole world was
divided into two classes just then: enemies and friends; and all who did
not have German blood in their veins she looked upon as naturally
favoring the Allies.
The old man became quite solicitous concerning the safety of the
splendid motorcycles. He even led the boys to where they might store
them for the night. This receptacle turned out to be a sort of dry cave
dug into the side of a mound. It was evidently a frost-proof receptacle
for the potatoes and other vegetables raised for winter use, and had a
good stout door, secured with a hasp.
"There doesn't seem to be any sign of a lock here, boys," announced
Josh, after they had carefully deposited their machines inside and
closed the door.
"Well," replied Rod, "these people around here are so honest themselves
that they never dream of anybody ever stealing a single thing. Chances
are you'll not find a lock or even a chain or a bar in all the house."
"Sounds all very nice," grumbled the suspicious Josh, "but I'd sleep
better, I'm thinking, if I knew the machines were under lock and key."
"We could manage to make you a shake-down here in the potato bin if so
be you felt disposed that way," suggested Hanky Panky blandly; but
somehow the idea did not appear to appeal strongly to the other, for he
snickered.
"If the rest can stand it I oughtn't to worry," he grunted, and thus
dismissed the subject apparently from his mind.
Later on they sat down to a pretty fine supper, which the good woman
prepared for them. The hungry boys were ready to declare that while they
had sampled all sorts of cookery since landing on European soil, from
English and German to Flemish, they really believed that the French
excelled all others when it came to getting up tasteful dishes out of
next to nothing.
"No wonder they save so much money, and could pay off that billion
dollars the Germans exacted after the war of Seventy-one," said Josh
confidentially.
"They always say that a French family can live comfortably on what an
American family would waste," added Hanky Panky; "and for one I believe
it."
Rod, of course, started in to do the talking, but it was soon discovered
that the woman could speak pretty fair English. Great was the surprise
of Josh and Hanky Panky when she told them she had lived in the French
Quarter of New York as long as three years, some time back, before she
was married.
She proudly confessed that her two boys, as well as her husband, were in
the ranks of the republic's patriotic army; and that even though she
might never again see them, it would be a sacrifice for the land she
loved with all her heart and soul; so that if the hated Germans were
only beaten, and France saved to posterity, she could reconcile herself
even to the loss of all she possessed in the wide world.
They sat up chatting until a reasonably late hour. Then, as the boys
were more or less tired after an exhausting day's ride they asked to be
shown the apartment where they were to pass the night.
It proved to be a room in a wing that had been recently added to the old
farmhouse, with evidences of not yet being suitably furnished. Still,
all they wanted was a place to throw themselves down and rest. The night
was warm, it being still summer, and little if any covers would be
needed.
Here then they prepared to sleep. Each of them removed their outer
garments, as they had already done with regard to their leggings and
shoes.
Josh poked his head out of a convenient open window to take an
observation. He grunted as if pleased to know that from that point it
was possible to see the mound of earth in which the potato cellar had
been located.
A wide double bed occupied one corner of the room. The good woman of the
house had also fetched in a cot, which would serve admirably for the odd
traveler.
"It looks good to me," remarked Hanky Panky, after testing the big bed,
and finding that it felt reasonably soft. "I reckon, Rod, we'll let Josh
take the cot, because you know he's such a kicker when he dreams that
nobody likes to stand for it."
"Only too glad of the chance to sleep alone," chuckled Josh, apparently
in no wise feeling hurt by the insinuation.
So it was easily arranged, and in less than ten minutes afterward Rod,
being the last one up, blew out the candle that had been given to them,
and sought his place in the big bed.
If Josh chose to lie awake for any length of time turning over matters
in his active mind at least he did not make any sound calculated to
disturb his companions.
Time passed on.
Rob was in the midst of a delightful dream of the far-away home across
the sea when he felt some one gently shake him. As he instantly opened
his eyes it all came back to him again in a flash, and he knew where he
was; also that it must be Josh who was again trying to draw his
attention.
"Hello! what's up, Josh?" asked Rod quietly and without a trace of
excitement, whereas a good many boys, upon being so suddenly aroused
from a sound sleep would have sat up, trembling with alarm, and
demanding to know in quivering tones what had happened.
"Something's going on outside here that we ought to look into,"
whispered Josh.
By this time Hanky Panky had been awakened, and heard the last words.
"Gee whiz! then the Germans have come after all!" he was heard to
mutter, as he started to feel around for his shoes.
They hurried to the windows and looked out. Just how Josh had happened
to awaken he did not take the trouble to inform the others; but they
could see that something out of the common was occurring outside. A
couple of lights that might be lanterns seemed to be moving this way and
that, as though those who held the same were looking around the
outhouses belonging to the farm.
"Get dressed, and in a hurry, too," said Rob, after he had watched these
moving lights for a minute or so.
"Then you think they must be the Germans come after us, do you, Rob?"
asked Hanky Panky tremulously, as he started to dress as fast as he
could in the semidarkness.
"I don't know, but I mean to find out," he was told in low but incisive
tones.
They made all the haste possible. Rob was ready some little time ahead
of his comrades. This might be because he mastered his feelings better
than either of the others, or else on account of having his possessions
so carefully arranged before climbing into bed that he knew exactly
where to lay a hand on each and every article in the dark.
Finally Josh, and then Hanky Panky announced that he was all ready to
issue forth. Josh doubtless was figuring in his mind just how they might
get the precious motorcycles out of the potato cellar unobserved, and
ride wildly away before the searching Germans suspected their presence.
Hanky Panky on his part would have been almost willing to abandon the
wheels rather than risk chances of falling into the hands of the
invaders; for he had an idea they might be treated as spies, and dealt
with in a summary fashion. The thought of being stood up against a barn
and riddled with cruel bullets was uppermost in the boy's mind.
There was a door leading from the new wing of the farmhouse to the outer
air. Rod softly opened this now, and led the way forth, the others
trailing after him, confident that Rod would know what line of action
was best under the exciting conditions by which they were confronted.
The first natural thing for them to do was to peer carefully around, in
expectation of again locating the wandering lights. Then Josh uttered a
low gasp, as his fingers plucked at Rod's sleeve.
"Looky there, will you, Rod?" he whispered, intensely excited; "they've
run across the potato bin, and are going to take a peep inside!"
"Oh! my stars! it's all up with our poor wheels then!" Hanky Panky was
heard to tell the others, though no one seemed to pay the slightest
attention to him.
There was no doubt about the situation being grave. The lights had by
this time vanished within the vegetable cellar that had been built
underground for frost protection in the cold winters.
"Come; let's creep forward and see what's happening," suggested Rod
boldly, as though after all he began to have slight hopes that it might
not be quite as bad as they had been thinking.
As they advanced hurriedly they soon began to catch the sound of several
voices. Evidently the searchers had been amazed to discover three such
splendid motorcycles hidden away in a potato cellar on this farm; this
was hardly what they had been looking for when using their lanterns so
industriously.
"Too bad, too bad it had to happen!" whimpered the disconsolate Hanky
Panky, for he had become so accustomed to spinning along on his reliable
machine that the prospect of using "Shank's mare" as a means of
progressing did not appeal to him at all.
"Don't worry!" Rod told him, "but listen again."
"What's the use?" complained the other, "when I can't understand a
single word of what's said, because it's French they're using."
"French!" echoed Josh, a little louder than prudence might have
dictated, though in his new excitement he evidently did not consider
that; "why, then after all it isn't the Germans who've come snooping
around looking for us."
"What are they saying, Rod?" asked Hanky Panky.
"Asking each other who can be the owners of these wonderful machines,"
replied Rod, at the same time taking a step forward, as though meaning
to enter the potato cave.
"Messieurs," he said, "pardon me, but those machines belong to us; and
we are friends of France, we beg you to believe."