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THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL
By GEORGE DURSTON
[Illustration]
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
AKRON, OHIO
Made in U. S. A.
Copyright, MCMXXI
By
The Saalfield Publishing Co.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: They sent the message quickly, accurately.]
THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL
CHAPTER I
PLANS FOR THE HOLIDAYS
"Where are you going to spend the holidays, Frank?"
The speaker was Henri Martin, a French boy of the new type that has
sprung up in France since games like football and tennis began to be
generally encouraged. He asked the question of his schoolmate, Frank
Barnes, son of a French mother and an American father. Frank's name was
really Francois; his mother had that much to do with his naming. But he
was a typical American boy, none the less, and there was a sharp
contrast between his sturdy frame and that of the slighter French boy
who had become his best chum in the school both were attending near
Paris, at St. Denis.
"I don't really know, Harry," said Frank. "Not exactly, that is. My
Uncle Dick is coming over a little later, and I think we'll go to
Switzerland." His face clouded a little. "I--I haven't any real home to
go to, you know. My father and mother--"
"I know--I know, mon vieux," said Henri, with the quick sympathy of his
race. "But until your uncle comes--what then, hein?"
"Why, I'm to wait for him here, at the school," said Frank. "He's a very
busy man, you know, and it's hard for him to get away just any time he
wants to. He will get here, though, early in August, I think."
"But that won't do at all, Frank!" exclaimed Harry, impulsively. Like
many French boys, he spoke English perfectly and with practically no
trace of an accent. "To spend a week or two weeks here in the school,
all alone! No--I tell you what! I've an idea!"
"What is it?" asked Frank, a little amused at the horror with which his
friend heard of the notion of staying in school after the holidays had
begun.
"Why, come home with me until your uncle comes!" said Harry. "That's
what you must do. I live not so far away--not so very far. At Amiens.
You have heard of it? Oh, we will have fine times, you and I. I am to
join the Boy Scouts Francais these holidays!"
He called it Boy Scoots, and Frank roared. The word scout had been
retained, without translation, when the French adopted the Boy Scout
movement from England, just as words like rosbif, football, and le sport
had been adopted into the language. But all these words, or nearly all,
have been given a French pronunciation, which give them a strange sound
in Anglo-Saxon ears.
"Excuse me, Harry," said Frank, in a moment. "I didn't mean to laugh,
but it does sound funny."
"Of course it does, Frank," said Henri, generously. "I speak English, so
I can see that. But there's nothing funny about the thing, let me tell
you. We began by calling the Boy Scouts Eclaireurs Francais, but
General Baden-Powell didn't like it, so we made the change. Really,
we're a good deal like the English and American scouts. We have the same
oath--we call it serment, of course, and our manual is just a
translation of the English one."
"I was going to join in America, too," said Frank. "But then I came over
here, and I didn't know there were scouts here. Do you wear the same
sort of uniforms?"
"Yes--just like the English," said Harry. "You could join with me,
couldn't you? You're going to be here for a whole year more, aren't
you?"
"Yes. My mother"--he gulped a little at the word--"wanted me to know all
about France, and never to forget that I had French blood in me, you
see. My French grandfather was killed by the Germans at Gravelotte--he
was a colonel of the line. And my mother, even though my father was an
American, was always devoted to France."
"We are like that--we French," said Harry, simply. Into his eyes came
the look that even French boys have when they remember the days of 1870.
"The Germans--yes, they beat us then. We were not ready--we were badly
led. But our time will come--the time of La Revanche. Tell me, Frank,
you have seen the Place de la Concorde, in Paris?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Do you remember the statue of Strassburg? How it is always draped in
black--with mourning wreaths?"
"Yes."
"The day is coming when the black shall be stripped off!
Alsace-Lorraine--they are French at heart, those lost provinces of ours!
They shall be French again in name, too. Strassburg shall guard the
Rhine for us again--Metz shall be a French fortress once more. We shall
fight again--and next time we shall be ready! We shall win!"
"I hope so--if war comes again," said Frank, soberly. "But--"
"_If_ war comes?" said Harry, surprised. "Don't you know it must come?
France knows that--France makes ready. We shall not seek the war. But it
is not enough for us to desire peace. The Prussians are afraid of us.
They will never rest content while we are strong. They thought they had
crushed us forever in 1870--but France was too great for them to crush!
They made us pay a thousand million francs--they thought we should take
years and years to pay, and that meanwhile they would keep their
soldiers on our land, in our fortresses! But no! France paid, and
quickly. And ever since we have prepared for the time when they would
try to finish their work."
"If war comes, I am for France," said Frank, still soberly. "But war is
a dreadful thing, Henri."
"We know that--we in France," said Harry. "But there are things that are
worse than war, Frank. A peace that is without honor is among them. We
do not want to fight, but we are not afraid. When the time comes, as it
is sure to come, we shall be ready. But enough of that. There will be
no war this year or next. We have not settled about your coming home
with me. You will come?"
"I'd love to," said Frank. "If the head master says I can, I will most
gladly. But will your people want me?"
"My friends are their friends," said Harry. "My mother says always,
'Bring a friend with you, Henri.' Oh, there will be plenty for us to do,
too. We shall take long walks and play tennis and ride and shoot. Let us
settle it to-day. Come now to the office with me. We will ask the head
master."
They went forthwith to speak to Monsieur Donnet, the head of the school,
who received them in his office. The school was a small one but it
numbered among its pupils several English and American boys, whose
parents wanted them for one reason or another to acquire a thorough
knowledge of French. He heard their request, which was put by Henri,
pleasantly.
"Yes, that will be very well," he said. "I have been thinking of you,
Barnes. Your uncle has written to me that he will be here about the
tenth or fifteenth of August, and asked permission for you to stay here
until then. But--"
They waited, while M. Donnet thought for a moment.
"Yes, this will be much better," he said. "I--I have been a little
troubled about you, Barnes. If all were well, you might stay here very
well. But--" Again he paused.
"These are strange times," he said. "Boys, have you read in the
newspapers of the trouble between Austria and Servia?"
They looked startled.
"A little, sir," said Frank. "There's always trouble, isn't there, in
those parts?"
"Yes, but this may--who knows?--be different. I do not say there is more
danger than usual but I have heard things, from friends, that have made
me thoughtful. I am a colonel of the reserve!"
Henri's eyes gleamed suddenly, as they had a few minutes before when he
had talked of how France was ready for what might be in store for her.
"Do you mean that there may be war, sir?" he asked, leaning forward
eagerly.
"No one knows," said the master. "But there are strange tales.
Aeroplanes that no one recognizes have flown above the border in the
Vosges. There are tales of fresh troops that the Germans are sending to
Metz, to Düsseldorf, to Neu Breisach." He struck his hand suddenly on
his desk. "But this I feel--that when war comes it will be like the
stroke of lightning from a clear sky! When there is much talk, there is
never war. When it comes it will be because the diplomats will not have
time, they and the men with money, the Rothschilds and the others, to
stop it. And if there should be trouble, not a man would be left in this
school. So, Barnes, I should be easier if you were with Martin. I
approve. That is well, boys."
Both boys were excited as they left the office.
"He talks as if he knew something, or felt something, that is still a
secret!" said Frank, excitedly. "I wonder--"
"Of no use to wonder," said Henri. Really, he was calmer than his
companion. "What is to come must come. But you are coming home with me,
Frank. We know that much. And that is good--that is the best news we
could have, isn't it?"
"It's certainly good news for me," said Frank, happily. "Oh, Harry, I
get so tired of living in school or in hotels all the time! It will seem
good to be in a home again, even if it isn't my own home!"