A PROMISE OF HELP
There was a gratified exclamation from Colonel Pavet, and a new light
came into his eyes. The magic name of France had abolished for the
moment all distinctions of rank. The officer reached out his hand and
took Frank's in a hearty grasp.
"Then you are fighting for two countries," he ejaculated.
"Yes," laughed Frank. "I'm luckier than most of the fellows."
"In what part of the country was your mother born?" asked the colonel
with interest.
"In Auvergne," Frank replied.
"In Auvergne," repeated the officer, with vivacity. "Why I come from
that part of the country myself. What was your mother's family name?"
"De Latour," said Frank.
"There is another coincidence," cried the colonel. "I know the family
well. Their estate was only a few miles south of ours. Her father was
an old comrade in arms and served in the same regiment with me when we
were stationed in Algiers.
"Many's the time we've ridden and messed and fought together against
the Bedouins. He's dead now," he continued, a slight shade crossing
his face. "How proud he would have been were he alive to know that his
grandson was fighting for France.
"Let me see," he went on. "I've been a long time away from Auvergne
but it seems to me that when I was last there, I heard some talk of
trouble in settling his estate--some lawsuit or other, that tied the
property up. Do you know anything about it?"
"Yes," replied Frank. "My mother has been worrying over it for some
time past. She was just about to sail for France to see about it when
the war broke out."
He rapidly sketched the details of the legal trouble with which his
mother had made him familiar. The officer listened attentively and
with marked sympathy.
"It is too bad," said Colonel Pavet. "I will see what I can do. I
have a good many friends in Auvergne and there are many, too, who honor
the name and memory of De Latour and would do all in their power to
help his daughter.
"And when I tell them that their daughter's son is fighting on our soil
they will redouble their efforts. Count on me, my boy. This terrible
war may delay matters but I will not forget."
The too parted then, leaving Frank with his heart beating faster at the
thought of what might come from this most unexpected meeting.
Now he would have something to write home to his mother that would
thrill her heart. That very night the letter should be written, the
letter that was so eagerly awaited, always, in that lonely house at
Camport, but that this time would receive even a more joyous welcome
than usual.
What a strange twist of fate it would prove if this trip to France,
undertaken in a spirit of pure patriotism, should reap a double reward
in lifting the burden that had weighed upon his mother's heart for
years!
One day a sham battle had been planned that embraced a front several
miles in length and Frank's company was detailed to take up a position
in a wood at the extreme left of the line.
The boys welcomed the assignment, for it was to carry them into a
section of the country that had up to now been unfamiliar to them, and
it afforded a diversion from the ordinary drill of the training camp.
They set off in high spirits after a hearty breakfast, and after a hike
of four miles reached the bit of woodland where they were supposed to
await the attack of the enemy.
"Gee!" exclaimed Frank, as he filled his lungs with the balsam of the
woods, "this is great. It's enough just to be alive on a glorious
morning like this."
"It's a little bit of Eden," declared Bart, as he looked about him.
"Listen to those birds singing. If it weren't for the boom of cannon
off there you wouldn't know there was such a thing as war in the world."
"Yes," chimed in Tom, "but there was a snake in Eden, and there's
another one in the world now, that's got to be scotched before the
world can rest in peace."
"Well, these woods have escaped so far," said Billy, as he looked
around at the noble elms and birches.
"Yes," assented Bart, "and I guess they're safe. The German tide has
come a good way into France, but I have a hunch that it's about spent
its force."
"If the Huns get here they'll have to come over our dead bodies," said
Tom.
It was some time before, in the plan for the sham battle, the enemy was
expected to approach this copse of woods, and, with sentries posted, to
detect and give warning of an approach, the rest of the men had been
permitted to break ranks and do as they pleased. Some had thrown
themselves on the ground in all sorts of sprawling attitudes, others
were smoking and chatting together, while still others wandered to the
edge of the woods and gazed over the broad plateau that stretched for
more than a mile to the left of the woods. The sky was cloudless and
the sun was shining brightly.
The monotonous boom of the distant guns, sounding like the roar of
waves upon a beach, kept up unceasingly, but the boys had got so used
to it that they scarcely noticed it.
But suddenly, among these bass notes came another sound, or series of
sounds, sharp, shrill, metallic, which they had already learned to
identify as the popping of anti-aircraft guns.
"That sounds as though they had sighted one of the Hun aeroplanes,"
commented Frank.
"More likely it's part of the practice," remarked Tom, carelessly.
"Look at those shrapnel puffs over there," cried Bart, pointing toward
the sky.
High up in the air, following one another in quick succession, were
light, bluish streaks, that after reaching an enormous height, suddenly
burst in a cloud of white.
"They're certainly firing at something," remarked Billy, "but for the
life of me I don't see what it is."
"I do," cried Bart. "Look! just at the edge of that fleecy cloud.
It's so white you can hardly tell it from the cloud itself."
They strained their eyes in the direction where Bart was pointing.
High up in the air, miles, it seemed, was a long, silver streak, shaped
like an immense cigar. At that height it seemed almost to hang in the
atmosphere, so gliding and imperceptible was its motion. And yet the
boys knew that it was really shooting along with the speed of an
express train.
"A Zeppelin!" they shouted, in chorus.
"A super-Zeppelin, or I miss my guess," observed Frank. "Look at the
size of it."
"Oh, if the guns could only reach it!" exclaimed Bob.
"No such luck," groaned Billy, "it's too far up. See! the shrapnel
puffs are half a mile below it."
"It's on its way back to the German lines," remarked Frank, "and I
guess there's nothing to stop its getting there."
"Been on a baby killing trip to Paris, I suppose," said Tom, bitterly.
"More likely London, judging from the direction," estimated Billy.
They watched the monster as it sailed swiftly on, until it was lost to
sight.
"I'd have given a year of my life to have seen that thing brought
down," said Bart. "Can't you see the crew of it gloating over the
women and children they've killed, and boasting about it when they get
back to their lines?"
"Well, you know the Indians used to scalp women and children just as
eagerly as they did men," remarked Billy, "and those Boches can give
the Indians cards and spades and beat them out."
They were about to go back to the grove, with one last regretful look
at the sky, when an exclamation from Frank brought them to a sudden
halt.
"There's another one," he cried, pointing to the distant horizon. Even
as he spoke a second Zeppelin came plainly into view, following in the
wake of the first, but with greatly diminished speed.
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Bart, "there must be a fleet of them!"
"That one hasn't got off scot free, either," said Frank, his keen eye
noting the apparent distress of the giant airship, as it moved
uncertainly and unevenly, like a ship laboring in a storm. "By Jove,
fellows, I believe it's coming down! Quick! get under the cover of
these trees!"
Lower and lower, like a bird with a broken wing, the Zeppelin came
toward the earth, while the boys watched it in breathless excitement.
Whether the Zeppelin could go no further, and sank despite itself, or
whether its commander, looking at that broad plateau, and seeing no
sign of life upon it, had decided to make a landing, quickly repair his
injured machinery, and then rise again to seek refuge behind his own
lines, the boys could not tell. But whatever the reason, not many
minutes had passed before it became apparent that the airship was
coming down, inevitably, right in front of them.
The word had been passed quickly all through the woods, and the whole
company was on the alert.
"Ready for action, men," commanded the lieutenant.
With rifles in hand, and all their senses keenly on the alert, the
soldiers waited for the coming of their prey.
With a perceptible jar the airship struck the ground, and at the same
instant her crew swarmed out and dropped over the sides.
"Charge!" shouted the American lieutenant, and out from the woods the
army boys went with a rush.
The astounded Germans were taken so utterly by surprise that they stood
for a moment as though paralyzed. Then their commander barked out a
sharp order, and two of the men leaped on board and made for the
engines.
Crack! went the lieutenant's revolver, and as the bullet whistled past
the ears of the foremost man both Germans came to a stop.
"Forward, men, and surround them, but don't shoot unless you have to,"
was the next order, and an instant later the German crew were ringed
about with rifles whose ominous muzzles threatened to mow them down at
the first false move.
The German officer had started to draw a pistol, but seeing the
uselessness of this, he shoved it back into its holster and shrugged
his shoulders. He was trapped. The game was up. He raised his hands
in signal of surrender.
Another command from the lieutenant, and the crew were disarmed. A
certain number of the men were detailed to guard them, and others were
placed in charge of the airship.
The boys were wild with delight at the rich prize that had fallen so
unexpectedly into their hands.
"We've had two great days, boys!" exclaimed Frank, "if we never have
any others. The day we saw the submarine potted, and the day we nabbed
the Zeppelin."
"Glory, hallelujah!" crowed Bart. "And to think we've got it in such
good shape. The Allies have been crazy for a long time to find out
just what new wrinkles the Germans have got in the way of machinery and
other features in their latest Zeppelins. Maybe the engineers won't
come running when they learn of this!"
"And maybe there won't be joy in Paris and London and Washington!"
jubilated Tom.
"And perhaps the Huns won't gnash their teeth and tear their hair!"
chuckled Billy. "Oh, boy, we sure had luck when they sent us out here
this morning."
"That German officer is a hard loser," remarked Frank. "See that scowl
on his face. A thundercloud has nothing on him. He's sore through and
through."
The boys would have liked nothing better than to have had a chance to
explore the Zeppelin and see the many interesting and novel features
embodied in it, but their hopes in this direction were doomed to be
disappointed. The lieutenant was inflexible in his resolve to have
absolutely nothing on the captured airship disturbed until the
government experts arrived to inspect it, and sorely against their
wills the boys were forced to content themselves with an exterior view
of the wonderful fabric.
The German officer, being utterly without means of escape, had not been
put under the custody to which his crew had been subjected. He stood
stiffly by the side of the American lieutenant, awaiting the
disposition that the latter might choose to make of him.
The American officer sought to question him, but found his prisoner,
although able to speak English, inclined to reply only in
monosyllables. The courteous persistence of the American, however, had
its effect, and the German became more communicative, but he balked at
telling where he had been, or what his raid had accomplished. After
answering a number of questions of lesser importance, the German
himself became the questioner.
"To what enemy have I surrendered?" he queried.
"To a regiment of the United States Army," replied the lieutenant.
A bewildered look came into the prisoner's eyes.
"You mean British Army," he suggested, by way of correction.
"I said United States," said the lieutenant, briefly.
The puzzled look deepened.
"Impossible!" he exclaimed. "There is no United States Army in France."
Despite himself, the American officer could hardly suppress a smile.
"Just listen to him!" exclaimed Frank, who was within hearing distance.
"Didn't I tell you the Germans would believe anything their generals
told them?" replied Bart.
"My, but this is rich!" chortled Tom.
"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it," chuckled Billy, in
a tone too subdued for the lieutenant to notice.
"I assure you," said the lieutenant, "that there is an army of the
United States in France, despite your unbelief. Why should it seem so
strange?"
"But you couldn't possibly have gotten over here," persisted the
prisoner.
"Why not?" asked the American.
"Because our U-boats would have stopped you," was the reply.
"No use," murmured Frank to Bart. "Nobody home."
"Padded cell number nine hundred and ninety-nine," whispered Billy.
It was of no use to argue against such credulity, and the lieutenant
gave it up.
The prisoners were marched back to camp, where the news of their coming
had preceded them. It created a great sensation, and was the main
topic of conversation for many days thereafter.
"It's been a red letter day," remarked Bart that night, as he prepared
to climb into his bunk.
"You bet it has," agreed Frank. "We bagged a Zeppelin!"
Two days after these momentous events, a stir of expectation ran
through the camp. Evidently some important move was in prospect. What
it was, the rank and file did not know, but rumors and conjectures ran
riot.
"There's something big coming, boys," said Frank, one night after
supper.
"That's plain enough," agreed Bart. "But I'd give a lot to know just
what it is."
"The corporal gave me a private tip," replied Frank. "He didn't go
very far into it, but from what he hinted I have a hunch that none of
us will go to bed to-night."
"What?" they cried, in chorus.
"That's what," returned Frank. "But of course it may be a false alarm.
Wilson himself wasn't any too sure."
An hour later the bugle blew, but this call was not for "lights out."
It was the command to "fall in."
Sudden as it was, the high state of discipline the men had reached was
shown by the fact that there was no confusion. As precisely as veteran
soldiers they fell into line by companies and platoons and waited for
the order "Forward, march!"
The order was not long in coming, and as quietly as ghosts, with no
band to lead them, the regiment swung into step and started off.
"We're on our way to the front," whispered Frank to Bart, who marched
on his right.
"Off to the trenches!" agreed Bart. "Well, I'm glad the waiting time
is over. Now, we'll have a chance to show what kind of soldiers we
are."
For three whole hours the march went on without a halt. The night was
clear although there was no moon. As the ground was dry and springy
the going was good.
During that last hour the signs had multiplied that they were
approaching the scene of battle. They passed by bits of woodland where
every leaf and twig had been stripped from the trees by shell fire,
leaving only the scarred and ghastly trunks.
They went through villages, or what had once been villages, but were
now only heaps of crumbling stone with, here and there, a shaky wall
left standing.
They had to watch their footing more and more to avoid falling into
craters where the ground had been torn up by shells. There was no
beauty in that part of fertile France that had once been like a "garden
of the Lord."
War had breathed upon it, blighting and blasting every living thing,
except the dauntless spirit of the people who were fighting and would
fight to the last gasp in defense of liberty and civilization.
At last they reached a line of sentinels by whom they were greeted, not
with challenges, but with exclamations of delight and welcome.
A little further on they came to a great gash in the earth that
stretched in either direction like a huge black, zigzag blot.
They had reached the trenches!
But they did not stop there. Onward they went again, past another line
of trenches.
"Gee! we must be going to the first line of trenches!" whispered Bart.
"That's what!" answered Frank.