Mayor. With your permission, we will be on our way at once."
The mayor bowed and insisted upon shaking hands with each. Then the
lads repaired again to their machine and climbed in.
"Here's one trip we'll take without fear of danger," said Chester, as
Hal touched the controls.
"Right," Hal agreed. "By the way, the mayor made us a present of this
airplane. I've a good mind to keep it and take it back to America."
"Guess the French government would have something to say about that,"
laughed Chester. "However, you can try it if you want to."
"No," returned Hal, "guess I'd better leave it here. I've had trouble
enough in the last few years and every German is my enemy. I don't want
to make any more, particularly among our friends, the French."
The plane was now speeding through the air.
"Step on her, Hal!" cried Chester. "I want to get back to Soissons and
then to our own command. Remember, the armistice doesn't become
effective until 11 o'clock to-morrow morning. The fighting is not over
yet. We may have a chance for a little more fun before it's all over."
"By Jove!" Hal ejaculated. "You're right. I hadn't thought of that."
The plane dashed forward faster than before.
*CHAPTER XXVII*
*STUBBS REDEEMS HIMSELF*
Now, it is a fact that for some hours after the armistice between
Germany and the allies was signed the matter was kept secret, for some
reason or other. To this fact was due, in a large measure, Anthony
Stubbs' ability to redeem himself for the false information he had sent
his paper some days before.
Much disgusted with himself over the false "scoop," Stubbs had left
Versailles, more to escape the jibes of his fellow war correspondents
than for any other reason.
The afternoon of November 11 found him again in Soissons, where he had
parted from Hal and Chester several days before. The little man was
very morose, and not without reason. So far he had received no reply
from his cablegram to The Gazette, announcing that the previous
information was untrue; but he was expecting an answer momentarily.
And at last it came. It read like this.
"Your error made us ridiculous. Sending man to relieve you. In
meantime, depend upon you to keep us posted."
"Oh, I'll keep them posted, all right," said Stubbs, "but it won't do me
any good now."
It was late in the afternoon when Stubbs ran into Hal and Chester, who
had recently left Marshal Foch after reporting to the latter on their
return from Hirson, where the armistice had been signed.
"Why, hello, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester. "What are you doing here? I
thought you were in Versailles."
"I was," said Stubbs, "but I didn't stay very long."
"What's the reason for your return here?" demanded Hal. "I thought you
wanted to be where you could save time when you got word of the signing
of the armistice."
"I did," said Stubbs, "and that's the trouble. I got word two days ago
that the armistice had been signed."
"But it hadn't," said Chester.
"Oh, I know that now," said Stubbs sorrowfully, "but it would have saved
me a lot of worry had I known it then."
"You don't mean to tell me that you filed that dispatch to your paper,
Mr. Stubbs," said Hal.
"I did," replied Stubbs briefly.
"Great Scott! Then it's a wonder you haven't been fired by this time."
"I have," said Stubbs, briefly again.
"What?" exclaimed Chester. "Fired from The Gazette, Mr. Stubbs?"
"Exactly; and I don't blame The Gazette, either."
"But how on earth did you come to file such a report?"
"Because I had it from a source that should have been authentic."
"From whom, may I ask?"
"Admiral W----"
"But the admiral should have known better," said Hal.
"Maybe he should have," said Stubbs; "trouble is he didn't."
"Now that's too bad, Stubbs," declared Chester sympathetically. "I'm
certainly sorry."
"So am I," declared Stubbs grimly. "But that's the trouble with the
newspaper game. You never get any credit for what you do, but you are
always due for a wigging any time something goes wrong."
"And I suppose The Gazette put out an extra," remarked Hal.
"I'm dead sure of it," replied Stubbs grimly. "Here, look at this cable
I just received."
Hal read the cablegram and then passed it to Chester.
"Pretty tough, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester, after scanning it hastily.
"Now, isn't there anything you can do to redeem yourself?"
"Nothing that I can think of," was the reply, "unless I could be
fortunate enough to get first word of the real signing of the
armistice."
Hal and Chester both expressed their surprise.
"Great Scott, Mr. Stubbs!" said Chester, "didn't you know the armistice
had been signed?"
"No, I didn't know it," declared Stubbs, "have you heard anything about
it?"
"Have we?" exclaimed Hal. "Why, man, we were there when it was signed."
"Now listen here, Hal," said Stubbs, "I've been in hot water once. I
don't want to get back there again."
"But I'm telling you facts, Mr. Stubbs," declared Hal. "The armistice
has been signed. Chester and I were there when General Herwigs and four
other German delegates affixed their signatures."
"Are you telling me the truth?" demanded Stubbs excitedly.
"The absolute truth, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester.
Stubbs looked at them closely.
"By Jove! I believe you are," he ejaculated at last. "And has this
fact become generally known?"
"I don't see why it hasn't," replied Hal. "The armistice becomes
effective at 11 o'clock to-morrow."
"Funny some of the other correspondents haven't heard of it," mumbled
Stubbs to himself. "Some of them returned to Soissons with me."
"Well, you'd better get busy, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal, "or they will beat
you to it."
"Then upon your advice," said Stubbs, "I'll get busy. Come with me,
boys, and tell me what you can on the way. Hurry now."
Stubbs set out at a rapid pace for the nearest cable office, Hal and
Chester at his heels.
Now, as it chanced, there was but one place in Soissons where, due to
war conditions, a cable dispatch could be filed. The wire from there
led direct to Versailles, where messages were relayed. It was the only
possible means of communication with the outside world outside of
military lines.
At the door of the cable office, Stubbs encountered Jennings,
correspondent of The New York World, who had returned to Soissons at the
same time Stubbs had.
"Hello, Stubbs," he grinned. "Armistice signed again? I see you're
headed for the cable office."
"Never mind, Jennings," said Stubbs. "You think the laugh's on your
side now. Maybe it won't be later."
"Perhaps not," Jennings admitted, "but if I were you, I'd be almighty
careful of the next dispatch I sent The Gazette. Chances are your
people will not relish being fooled a second time."
Now Stubbs was well aware of the fact that it would be possible for only
one message to be sent out of Soissons at a time. So he said:
"Jennings, you have been pretty decent to me, so if you'll come along
I'll do you a favor."
Jennings looked at Stubbs peculiarly.
"Something up?" he demanded.
"Considerable," returned Stubbs.
"Then I'll go along," said Jennings. "I haven't anything else to do."
He accompanied Stubbs and the two lads into the cable office.
"Now, Jennings," said Stubbs, "I'm not going to tell you what's up until
I have filed my dispatch. But you'll have the next chance at the wire."
"Fair enough," said Jennings smiling. "I guess your stuff is not so
awfully hot."
"Maybe not," said Stubbs. "Wait."
Briefly he scribbled on a cable blank, and passed the message to the
operator. What he wrote was this:
"Armistice signed this P.M. at Hirson by General Foch, General Herwigs,
representing Chancellor Ebert, and four other delegates. Information
absolutely authentic. Trust me this time."
"Now," he said, turning to Jennings, "I'll tell you my news."
"Let's have it," said Jennings, somewhat indifferently.
"The armistice has been signed."
Jennings started, then recovered himself.
"That's what you said before," he declared with a grin. "Guess I'd
better wait and get my information first-handed."
"That's what I've done this trip," replied Stubbs calmly.
"What do you mean?"
"Why," said Stubbs, "my friends here, Majors Paine and Crawford, were at
Hirson when the armistice was signed this afternoon."
Jennings wheeled on the two lads, his face flushed with excitement.
"Is that true?" he demanded.
"Absolutely," said Hal.
Without further words, Jennings rushed toward the operator. But Stubbs
was ahead of him.
"Hold on, now," said the little man. "I'm first at this wire, and I
haven't finished my message yet."
"Hurry then," said Jennings, "and give me a chance."
"You stick close," said Stubbs, "and you shall have the second chance at
the wire. But I haven't half finished yet."
"Great Scott, man! You've sent your flash, haven't you?"
"Yes; but I want to add a few details."
"Well, let me get in a few words ahead and I'll gladly relinquish the
wire again."
"Not much," said Stubbs. "I have the wire now and I intend to keep it
for the next hour if I have to file the first chapter of Genesis."
"Stubbs," pleaded Jennings, "don't be a hog. I've got to get word to
The World. You know that."
"Then you should have got your own information," declared Stubbs.
Meantime, the little war correspondent had been scribbling busily, from
time to time passing sheets of paper to the operator, who sat with his
hand on the key.
Suddenly there was the sound of confusion without. A moment later half
a dozen men rushed into the room. Stubbs smiled, as he recognized other
war correspondents.
"I'm a little ahead of you, fellows," he said good-naturedly. "Now, I
intend to keep this wire for the next hour. Then I shall release it to
Jennings here. He'll probably do his best for you."
The other correspondents smiled sickly smiles. They were beaten and they
knew it. True to his words, Stubbs ceased writing an hour later and
Jennings captured the wire. Stubbs turned to Hal and Chester.
"Come," he said, "let's be moving. I think I have redeemed myself."
And he had, as later events were to prove; for The New York Gazette was
the first paper in America to announce the fact that the armistice had
been signed.
*CHAPTER XXVIII*
*THE END DRAWS NEAR*
"WHEE-E-E-E-E-OU-O-O-O-O--BANG!"
Chester raised himself to a sitting position in his funk hole and looked
over at Hal.
"Gosh all fishhooks! Looks like this was all a fake about the war being
over at 11 o'clock this morning," he said. "Those shells don't sound
like the end of the war to me. Do they to you?"
Hal admitted that they did not. The burst had almost covered both lads
with earth and had been to close to allow either of them any peace of
mind. "Down!" shouted Chester and again Hal rolled himself into a knot
and wished that his funk hole was as many inches deeper. He had seen
days when such a funk hole would have been sufficiently deep, but on
that day of all days--half an hour before the end of the war--a
forty-foot well wouldn't have been any too deep.
Hal's calculation was a bit off. The shell came whistling in, like the
weird cry of a hungry beast, and exploded in the hollow below the funk
holes in which Hal and Chester found themselves, throwing up a geyser of
earth and rocks that did no harm to anyone.
"That guy's as wild as a hawk," came a cry from a nearby hole. "I could
do better than that myself, and I ain't no artilleryman, either."
"You talk like you wanted him to shoot closer," Hal called back. "That
was plenty close enough for me."
The next shell broke on the brow of the hill. Then came a whole shower
of them, each one singing its own little tune that struck terror to the
hearts of the bravest.
Chester squirmed down into his funk hole until he could see the dial of
his wrist watch. It was 10.35. In twenty-five minutes more the war
would be over.
A moment later American batteries behind them began sending over
reprisal fire. The 75's passing over their heads whined savagely, but
not so savagely as those boche shells coming in.
(It is a well-known fact that a shell going out has a different whine
than a shell coming in, also a different effect on one's nerves.)
Twenty-five minutes is a long time when a man is hiding from death. To
know that in twenty-five minutes, providing you are alive at the end of
that time, death's shadow will have ceased to follow in your footsteps,
is a great inducement to live.
Hal and Chester found it so.
They were back with their own command again after the trying days they
had spent with Marshal Foch and the German envoys whom they had
accompanied to and from their own lines and back again.
After leaving Stubbs in Soissons, following the little man's triumph in
flashing first word of the signing of the armistice to his paper in
America, they had reported to General Pershing in Rheims.
The American commander-in-chief had, of course, been informed some time
before that the armistice had been signed. So, in fact, had all other
officers in the allied armies. This had been necessary in order that
there would be no doubt as to the hour upon which the armistice would
become effective.
General Pershing expressed his pleasure at seeing the boys again, and
his gladness that they had been so fortunate as to be present at the
signing of the armistice.
"It is an honor that I would have been glad to have had myself," he
declared.
After a brief interview with the commander-in-chief, the lads were
dispatched by him with a message to General Rhodes, their old commander,
with the Forty-second division, still quartered at the front, just to
the south and east of Sedan.
Following the capture of Sedan, the American lines had been pushed
forward in the face of determined resistance. Though the fighting was
severe, the Germans did not have such a stiff front as they had
formerly. It apparently was a well-known fact all through the German
army that armistice proceedings were in progress, and consequently it
appeared that the German officers were not willing to sacrifice their
men needlessly.
So the American positions had been advanced despite enemy efforts to
halt them.
After reporting to General Rhodes and delivering the communication they
carried from the commander-in-chief, the lads repaired to the quarters
of Colonel O'Neil.
"By George!" exclaimed the colonel, "I certainly am glad to see you
fellows again. You have been gone so long that I feared you had come to
grief. Where have you been?"
"Well, Colonel," said Hal briefly, "we saw the armistice signed."
"You don't mean it," was the colonel's ejaculation. "You were certainly
confounded lucky. It's an event I would like to have seen myself. You
must feel pretty important, eh?"
"Not so important that we cannot do a little more before the war ends,"
Chester said quietly.
"There is still work to be done," returned Colonel O'Neil quietly.
"Hear the firing?"
The lads did not need to strain their ears to hear the distant rumble of
big guns and the sharp crack of infantry firing, nearer at hand.
"Still at it, eh?" murmured Chester. "You would think that with the end
of the war so close at hand, officers and men alike would be content to
sit quiet."
"On the contrary, though," laughed Colonel O'Neil, "it would appear that
each side is determined to wreak what death and destruction it can
before a few written words shall stop this business of wholesale killing
and ruin."
"So it would seem," Hal agreed. "But in the meantime, Colonel, is there
nothing we can do? We would like to be in this war right up to the
finish, you know, sir."
The colonel considered briefly.
"Well, yes, there is a little work you may do," he said. He turned to
his desk and scribbled briefly. Turning again, he passed a paper to
Chester.
"Major Lawrence," he said, "has not yet been informed at what hour the
armistice becomes effective. This message will enlighten him. Will you
deliver it for me?"
"Yes, sir," said Chester briefly.
"And me, Colonel, what am I to do?" demanded Hal.
"Oh, you, Major," laughed the colonel, "you accompany Major Crawford and
see that my instructions are carried out."
"It shall be done, sir," said Hal.
The two lads left their colonel and hurried towards Major Lawrence's
detachment, at the extreme front.
"Well," said Chester as they hurried along, "looks like our fighting
days are over."
"It certainly does," Hal agreed, "but you never can tell, you know."
"True enough. It's as likely as not that one of us may fall yet before
the war ends."
"I guess not," Hal said. "We've gone through four years of it now.
I've begun to believe we bear charmed lives."
"It does seem so, but it only takes one bullet, in the proper place, to
settle that argument."
"That's right enough," Hal admitted, "but I've a feeling that we shall
both live to spend many pleasant days in the United States."
"Oh, I'm not thinking of getting killed," Chester declared. "I'm just
remarking on what is possible."
"Anything is possible at this age of the world," said Hal sententiously.
The lads now had come within sight of Major Lawrence's detachment.
Bullets were flying thick and fast among the American troops, who had
sought the shelter of long lines of funk holes, until recently in
possession of the enemy. Chester delivered his message at once.
"Well," said Major Lawrence, "I guess we'll be about here when the war
ends. Believe me, I am not going to order an advance when I know the
war's about over, and I don't think the enemy will."
"They seem bent on doing all the mischief they can while they have a
chance, Major," said Hal.
"So it seems; but I've decided to squat here in these holes and let them
fight to their heart's content. Of course, should they rush us, we'll
give them more than they bargained for; but I'm not going to attack
myself."
"I don't blame you, Major," declared Chester. "But now I've a favor to
ask."
"Consider it granted, sir," replied Major Lawrence.
"We have been assigned to no particular duty," Chester continued, "and
we should be glad if you would allow us to pass the remaining hours of
the war with you, sir."
"I shall be glad to have you with me," was the reply.
This is the reason, then, that Hal and Chester found themselves again in
the front lines, a scant hour before the armistice ending the greatest
war of history went into effect.
*CHAPTER XXIX*
*THE LAST ZERO*
The boche shells were now breaking in the hollow below the spot where
Hal and Chester found themselves. Hal was congratulating himself on
having a lucky spot in which to witness the closing minutes of the war,
when, just on his right, a geyser of earth and rock was hurled up by a
mighty explosion.
His first thought was of Chester. But after he had successfully dodged
several falling stones, he peered over the edge of his funk hole and
there was Chester, grinning broadly.
"How are they coming, Chester?" he called out.
"Closer than I like," Chester answered. "But here is an old friend of
yours and I am afraid he has got his."
"Who is he?" demanded Hal.
"Sergeant Bowers."
"What? Bowers here?"
"Yes, but he's rolling on the ground right now, and I can't get to him.
He seems to be about all in."
"Is he dead?" Hal asked.
Chester listened for a moment to make sure that a shell wasn't headed
his way, then he took another peep.
"No, I think he is still alive, but is badly wounded."
Hal and Chester, braving the enemy fire, both crawled out of their funk
holes and started for Sergeant Bowers, who had fallen just outside the
funk hole in which he had sought refuge. But they were back quicker
than a man could say "Jack Robinson."
A shell can be heard coming when it is passing to one side or overhead,
but when it is headed straight toward you its cry is heard usually after
the explosion, or is drowned out by the explosion. Common mathematics
will show why. Air conditions also help. If the wind is traveling with
the shell, one stands a fair chance of hitting the earth before the
shell explodes. But if the wind is traveling against the shell, one
hasn't much salvation.
In this case the wind was in the lads' favor. As they both heard the
shell coming, they moved like lightning. It is surprising sometimes how
fast one can move at a time like this.
In taking their places in the funk holes, which had been dug by the
Germans when they were in possession of that piece of ground, Hal and
Chester had calculated on just one thing--having time to fit themselves
into the holes before shells should find them. And now that both found
it necessary to make a quick fit of it, they were disgusted with their
laziness in not spending enough energy and taking the chances necessary
to making them big enough in the first place.
"Why didn't I?"
That was the question each lad asked himself a dozen times during the
brief space of a moment they lay there half exposed and waiting for that
which they feared.
It broke at last. The earth boiled, up, a mass of clods and stones,
only a few yards in front of Hal. A piece of shell fragment struck his
helmet a glancing blow; another buried itself in the earth only a few
inches from his nose.
Hal crawled out of his funk hole and reinserted himself, making sure
this time that he was below the surface. By his watch it lacked still
five minutes of 11 o'clock. Almost time for all this business to stop.
At intervals for several seconds, Boche shells came screaming in,
exploding hither and yon.
"Gas! Gas!" came the startling cry down the line.
Chester crawled deliberately into his gas mask, for the bursts, which he
recognized on the moment as being gas shells, had been too far away to
cause them any immediate alarm.
There followed then a strange, unbelievable silence, as though the world
had died. It lasted but a moment, for perhaps the space that a breath
may be held. Again Hal glanced at his watch.
"Eleven o'clock!"
He uttered the words aloud.
Eleven o'clock. The armistice was now effective. Fighting should cease.
Came suddenly such an uproar of relief and jubilance, such a shrieking
of claxons--gas claxons that shrieked now with pure joy--and such a
shout from both lines that only men possessed of sheer happiness can
utter.
Chester pulled off his gas mask and shouted with the rest. And even as
he did so he caught a faint odor which he knew to be that of mustard
gas. But nothing mattered now.
Hal and Chester piled out of their funk holes with the rest, waving
their helmets and shouting at the top of their voices. Then, like a
covey of quail scurrying from a hawk's shadow, they piled back again.
"Whizz--bang!"
Scarcely ten yards from Chester's hole a shell exploded.
"Wow!" exclaimed a voice. "Who said the war was over? Marshal Foch'll
have to come out and tell me himself before I believe it."
Another brief silence. A 75 barked behind Hal and Chester. Then the
battle seemed to start anew, one of the American batteries firing and
then another; the contest seemed to be between two batteries of 75's.
Chester could never remember which battery fired last, but he heard, a
few days later, that two second lieutenants of artillery were haled
blushingly before a general and severely reprimanded for disregarding
the rules of the armistice.
After the two batteries had ceased firing and the roar of the last
cannon died out across the valley, there came a silence that was even
more appalling than the first. It was something like the lull that
follows a terrific thunderstorm, only this storm had been raging for
nearly fifty-two months.
In the midst of this ghastly silence, a startling thing occurred. The
sky line of the crest ahead of the American troops grew suddenly
populous with dancing soldiers, and, down the slope, all the way to the
barbed wire entanglements, straight for the Yankees, came the German
troops.
For a moment there was confusion in the American ranks. It seemed that
the enemy was launching his troops forward in a desperate charge. Yankee
officers shouted hoarse commands. Gunners sprang to their batteries,
and these were trained on the advancing foes.
But the excitement soon died out. No danger threatened.
The Germans came with outstretched hands, grins and souvenirs to trade
for cigarettes, so well did they know the weakness of their foes.
But neither Hal nor Chester had time for the Germans. They were
thinking of Sergeant Bowers, who still lay just beyond his funk hole,
apparently badly wounded.