OFF FOR GERMANY
Whether it was Tom's news or Jack's natural health was not made clear,
but something certainly caused Jack Parmly to recover strength much more
rapidly then the surgeons had believed possible, so that he was able to
leave the hospital soon after Tom's visit.
"And now I want you to explain what you meant by saying we were to go
over the Rhine," Jack insisted to his chum. "I've been wondering and
thinking about it ever since you mentioned it, but none of them would
tell me a thing."
"No, I reckon not," chuckled Tom.
"Why, you old sphinx?"
"Because they didn't know. It's a secret."
"Can you tell me?"
"Sure! Because you're going to be in it if you are strong enough."
"Strong enough? Of course I'll be! Why, I'm feeling better every minute!
Now you go ahead and relieve my anxiety. But first tell me--have you had
any news of your father?"
Tom shook his head.
"Not a word," he answered. "I'm beginning to feel that he has been
captured by the Germans."
"That's bad," murmured Jack. "And now, have you heard anything about--"
"Bessie and her mother?" finished Tom, breaking in on his chum's
question with a laugh. "Yes, I'm glad I can give you good news there.
They are all right, and I have a letter from Bessie for you. She wants
you to come and see her."
"You have a letter? Why didn't you give it to me before? You fish!"
"It just came. And so did news about their safety."
"Then the spy didn't get 'em after all."
"Oh, yes, he got 'em all right! But he bungled the job, or rather,
Bessie bungled it for him. They were rescued, and the spy was locked up.
We're to go to Paris to see them. They'll tell us all about it then."
"But what has that to do with our going over the Rhine?"
"Nothing. We're to go to Paris for a rest, and to get in shape for a big
effort against the Germans. I'll tell you about it."
"Forge ahead, then."
Tom got up to look at the doors and windows of the French cottage back
of the lines, where Jack had been moved to complete his recovery. Tom
and Jack, after the sensational raid, had been given leave of absence.
"I just want to make sure no one hears what I say, for it's a dead
secret yet," Tom went on. "But this is the plan. The French have several
of the biggest and newest Italian planes--planes that can carry half a
dozen men and lots of ammunition. Our aerodrome is going to be shifted
to the Alsace-Lorraine front, and from there, where the distance to
German territory is shorter than from here, we are to go over the Rhine
and bombard some of their ammunition and arms factories, and also
railroad centers, if we can reach 'em."
"Good!" cried Jack. "I'm with you from the fall of the hat!"
"First you've got to build up a little," stated Tom. "There is no great
rush about this Rhine-crossing expedition. A lot of plans have to be
perfected, and we've got to try out the Italian plane. And, before that,
we are to go to Paris."
"Who says so?"
"Major de Trouville. He's greatly pleased with the result of the raid on
the big German guns, and says we're entitled to a vacation. Also he
knows I want to make some more inquiries about my father. But I fear
they will be useless," and Tom sighed.
"And are we to go to see Mrs. Gleason?" asked Jack.
"Yes. And Bessie, too. They'll tell us all that happened."
A few days later, having received the necessary papers, Tom and Jack
were once more on their way to the capital. And this time they did not,
with others, have to suffer the danger and annoyance of the long-range
bombardment. It was over for a time, but there was no guarantee that the
Germans would not renew it as soon as they could repair the damage done
to their giant cannons.
The boys found Bessie and her mother in lodgings in a quiet part of
Paris, and were met with warm greetings. Then the Gleasons told their
story.
They had been inveigled out of their lodgings by the false note from the
boys, and had immediately been taken in charge by the spy, who, it was
proved, was an agent of the infamous Potzfeldt. But Bessie, after
several days' captivity in an obscure part of the great city, managed to
drop a letter out of the window, asking for help.
The police were communicated with, and not only rescued Mrs. Gleason and
her daughter, but caught the spy as well, and secured with him papers
which enabled a number of Germany's ruthless secret service agents to be
arrested.
It was because of the necessity for keeping this part of the work quiet
that no word of the rescue of Bessie and her mother was sent to the boys
until after the big gun raid.
There was much to be talked about when the friends met once more, and
Mrs. Gleason said she and Bessie were going back to the United States as
soon as they could, to get beyond the power of Potzfeldt.
As Tom had feared, there was no news of his father, but he did not yet
give up all hope.
"If he's a prisoner there's a chance to rescue him," he said.
The time spent in Paris seemed all too short, and it came to an end
sooner than the boys wished. Jack was almost himself again, though he
limped slightly from one of the German bullets in his leg. There was
every hope, however, that this would pass away in time.
Good-byes were said to Bessie and her mother, and once more the two Air
Service boys reported to their aerodrome. There they found not one, but
two, of the big Italian machines, which are capable of long flight,
carrying loads that even the most ponderous bombing plane would be
unable to rise with.
Preparations for the bold dash into the enemy's country went on
steadily and swiftly. Tom and Jack were trained in the management of the
big birds of the air, and though it was essentially different from what
they had been used to in the Nieuports and the Caudrons, they soon
mastered the knack of it, and became among the most expert.
"I believe I made no mistake when I picked them to be part of the
raiding force," said Major de Trouville.
"Indeed you did not," agreed Lieutenant Laigney. "Their work in
discovering the big guns, and their help in silencing them, showed what
sort of boys they are."
And finally the day came when those who were to take part in the raid
across the Rhine were to proceed to a point within the French lines from
which the start was to be made.
Other Italian planes would await them there, and there they would
receive final instructions.
They bade farewell to their comrades in Camp Lincoln, and were given
final hand-shakes, while more than one, struggling to repress his
emotion wished them "_bonne chance_!"
This raid against one of the largest and most important of the German
factory and railroad sections had long been contemplated and details
elaborately worked out for it. The start was to be made from the nearest
point in French-occupied territory, and it was calculated that the big
Italian machines could start early in the evening, cross the Rhine,
reach their objective by midnight, drop the tons of bombs and be back
within the French lines by morning.
Such, at least, was the hope. Whether it would be realized was a matter
of anxious conjecture.
At last all was in readiness. The final examinations of the machines and
their motors had been made and the supplies and bombs were in place.
"Attention!" called the commander. "Are you ready?"
"Ready!" came from Tom, who was in command of one machine.
"Ready!" answered Haught, who was in charge of the second.
"Then go, and may good fortune go with you!"
There was a roar of the motors, and the big, ponderous machines started
for Germany.
Would they ever reach it?