THE AIRSHIP RAID
Surprise on the part of Blake and his chums, as well as on the part of
Secor and Labenstein, was so complete that it would be hard to say who
felt the sensation most. The moving picture boys, after danger and
difficulties, had found the stolen army films and those they believed
had taken them. They were about to make a dash and get not only the
precious boxes, but also, if possible, capture the two plotters, when,
like a bolt from a clear sky, they were themselves called upon to
surrender.
"Come on!" yelled Charlie, as he understood the import of the summons to
surrender. "We can make a fight for it!"
"Don't try it!" advised Blake. By the light of lanterns carried by the
raiding party of Germans he had seen that they were numerous and well
armed. It would have been the height of folly to resist, especially as
the boys were non-combatants and not entitled to the honors of war.
"Hands up--and search them!" commanded the German officer of the raiding
party, as he pointed to Blake and his two chums. He spoke in German and
then lapsed into English, which he spoke very well, saying:
"It will be best for you Americans to give in quietly. Hands up!" And
the order was stern.
The boys had no choice but to obey, and their weapons were quickly taken
from them.
"I will allow you to keep your gas masks for the present," the German
captain said, "as you may need them, as we ourselves may, before we get
back to our lines."
"Then we are going back with you?" asked Joe.
"Of a certainty--yes! Did you think I would leave you here to go back to
your own? Indeed not! Now, then, ready--march--all of you!" and he
nodded at Secor and Labenstein.
Blake and his two friends noticed that no hostility seemed directed
toward the two conspirators, who, however, appeared as much surprised at
the advent of the raiding party as were the boys. It was evident,
though, that some understanding existed between the German captain and
Labenstein, for they talked in low voices while Secor stood a little
apart. The gaze of the Frenchman rested on the boys in what Blake said
later seemed a peculiar manner.
"Well, up to your old spying tricks, I see!" exclaimed Joe, with a sneer
he could not forego. "Have you summoned any submarines lately?"
A strange look passed over the face of the Frenchman, but he did not
reply. Labenstein, who had finished his talk with the German captain of
the raiding squad, turned to the boys, and a tantalizing smile spread
over his face as he said:
"Ah, we meet again, I see!"
"And you don't seem to have found much use for my flashlight," said
Blake. "I hope it still works!"
The German muttered an exclamation of anger, and turned aside to pick up
the boxes of films. This was too much for Charles Anderson, who sprang
forward, crying:
"Say, those are ours, you Dutch thief! Let 'em alone! We came here to
get 'em! Let 'em alone!"
The German captain gave a sharp order, and Charlie was forcibly pulled
back by one of the soldiers.
"Say, but look here!" exclaimed the lanky assistant of the moving
picture boys. "This isn't war. I mean we aren't fighting you
Germans--though we might if we had the chance. We're just taking
pictures, and these fellows have stolen our films," and he indicated
Secor and Labenstein. The latter made some reply in German to the
captain which the boys could not understand.
"Give us back our films and let us go!" demanded Macaroni. "We only came
to get them!"
"Enough of this!" broke in the captain. "You are our prisoners, and you
may be thankful you are alive," and he tapped his big automatic pistol
significantly. "March!" he ordered.
Labenstein and Secor picked up the boxes of exposed film containing the
army views and went out of the hut followed by some of the soldiers.
Then the moving picture boys were told to follow, a guard of Germans,
with ready bayonets, closing up the rear. A little later the boys,
prisoners in the midst of the raiding party, were out under the silent
stars. For the time peace had settled over the battlefield, extending
across the trenches on both sides.
"I wonder what they are going to do with us," said Joe, in a low voice,
to Blake.
"Hard to tell," was the quiet answer. "They're marching us toward their
lines, though."
This was indeed true, the advance being toward a section of the field
beyond the German trenches whence, not long before, had come the
searchlights and the hail of shrapnel.
"Well, things didn't exactly turn out the way we expected," said
Charlie. "I guess we'll have to make a re-take in getting back our
films," he added, with grim humor. "How do you figure it out, Blake?"
The talk of the boys was not rebuked by their German captors, and indeed
the captain seemed to be deep in some conversation with Secor and
Labenstein.
"I don't know how it happened," Blake answered, "unless they saw us go
into that hut and crept up on us."
"They crept up, all right," muttered Joe. "I never heard a sound until
they called on us to surrender," he added.
"Maybe Secor and Labenstein saw us and never let on, and then sent a
signal telling the others to come and get us," suggested Charlie.
"I hardly think that," replied Blake. "The Frenchman and his fellow
German plotter seemed to be as much surprised as we were. You could see
that."
"I guess you're right," admitted Joe. "But what does it all mean,
anyhow?"
"Well, as nearly as I can figure it out," responded Blake, as he and his
chums marched onward in the darkness, "Secor and Labenstein must have
hidden the films in the hut after they stole them from the place where
we went down under the gas attack. For some reason they did not at once
turn them over to the German command."
"Maybe they wanted to hold them out and get the best offer they could
for our property," suggested Charlie.
"Maybe," assented Blake. "Whatever their game was," and he spoke in a
low tone which could not carry to the two plotters who were walking
ahead with the German captain, "they went to the hut to get the films
they had left there. And as luck would have it, we came on the scene at
the same time."
"I wish we'd been a little ahead of time," complained Macaroni. "Then we
might have gotten back with our films."
"No use crying over a broken milk bottle," remarked Joe.
"That's right," Blake said. "Anyhow, there we were and there Secor and
his German friend were when the others came and----"
"Here we are now!" finished Joe grimly.
And there, indeed, they were, prisoners, with what fate in store none of
them could say.
Suddenly from the darkness a sentinel challenged in German, and the
captain of the little party answered, passing on with the prisoners.
A little later they turned down into a sort of trench and went along
this, the boys being so placed that each walked between two Germans,
who carried their guns with bayonets fixed, as though they would use
them on the slightest provocation. But Blake and his chums gave none.
And then, making a sudden turn, the party came to what was evidently an
outpost of importance. There were several large underground chambers,
fitted up with some degree of comfort and a number of officers and
soldiers about. Some were eating, some smoking, and others drinking, and
still others sleeping. In one room could be seen a rough table, laden
with maps and papers, and there were many electric lights, showing to
what degree of perfection the German military system was carried out at
this point. A portable dynamo and gasolene engine probably furnished the
current.
The captives were halted, and a brief talk in German took place between
the captain and the officer to whom he reported. What was said Blake and
his chums could not, of course, hear, nor could they have understood had
they heard.
A little later, however, they were ordered to march on, and then were
shown into an underground room, none too clean and quite dark, and the
door was banged shut on them. Just before this they had seen Secor and
Labenstein go off in another direction, still carrying the boxes of
films.
The echoes of the retreating footsteps of the men who had thrust them
into their prison soon died away, and the boys were left to themselves
in a veritable cell that was unpleasantly dirty and dark.
"Whew!" whistled Joe, after a moment of silence. "This time we certainly
are up against it!"
Suddenly a light flashed in the darkness.
"What's that?" asked Joe sharply.
"I want to see what sort of hotel accommodations they've given us," was
Blake's grim answer, as he flashed his pocket light about. The Germans
had not taken those from the boys, and they were soon inspecting their
prison.
It was merely a hole dug underground, earth, supported by timbers,
forming the floor, ceiling and sides, while the entrance was made of a
plank door, with cracks large enough to show that a passage ran
outside--a passage along which men passed with a frequency which seemed
to indicate that escape would be exceedingly difficult.
"Well, we've just got to make the best of it," said Blake. "I'm going to
get what rest I can."
It could not be much at best, for there was no furniture in the cavelike
cell. The boys curled up in corners--fortunately it was not cold--and
thought over their situation. That it was very desperate they all
admitted.
That night was like a bad dream to them. At times they dozed off in
light slumber, but, as far as they knew, their captors did not so much
as look in on them. They did not know, of course, when morning came,
but they judged that the sun had risen when, after several hours of
waiting, a tin can of water and some food was thrust in to them.
"And I'm hungry enough to eat even German sausage," announced Macaroni,
as he inspected the food. It was coarse but satisfying, and the boys
felt better when they had eaten it.
Later came a squad of Germans, one of whom spoke enough English to order
Blake and his chums to follow them. They were led out of the dungeon,
along a covered underground passage, and then they suddenly emerged into
daylight.
"Well, it's a comfort to be able to see," remarked Joe, as he and his
companions looked about.
Without a word as to where they were to be taken, the boys were marched
along, and, for a moment, they feared they were to be the victims of a
firing party. But a turn in the course showed them just ahead a group of
buildings about which could be seen some German officers.
"Evidently we're going to be questioned by some one in authority,"
suggested Blake. "Well, that looks more hopeful."
They were at the very edge of an enclosure containing the official
headquarters of that part of the German army, and the leader of their
squad was about to reply to the challenge of the sentinel when a
curious sound was borne to the ears of the boys. It was like a fast
motor operating at some distance.
"What's that?" asked Charlie.
As if by a common impulse they all looked up, for the noise seemed to
come from above, and they saw dotting the blue sky many small, black
specks.
"Aeroplanes!" cried Blake.
The Germans had seen the objects in the air at the same time, but on
them the sight produced quite a different effect from that made on the
boys.
In an instant all thought of guarding Blake and his chums seemed to have
been forgotten. Their escort ran to one side. The sentries on duty
before the official headquarters hastened away, and some of the
elaborately gold-laced officers ran within the buildings.
A moment later a number of soldiers could be observed some distance away
manning a battery of guns, the muzzles of which pointed upward.
"They're going to fire at the airships!" cried Joe.
"And that means they are not German craft!" added Blake. "Boys, I guess
the French and Americans are making an airship raid on Mr. Fritz this
morning, and maybe it'll be a good thing for us. Let's hunt cover!"