THE RETURN
Leon opened his eyes. He had an indistinct remembrance of the fight
but that was all. His last recollection had been of shouts and shots
and a violent struggle for breath.
Where was he? There was a great roaring in his ears and a sense of
confusion all about him. Perhaps he was in the trenches again and the
roar he heard was the drum-fire of the Germans. Undoubtedly the Boches
were attacking and they must be repulsed at all costs. He struggled to
get up. His head ached painfully and a sharp twinge in his left arm
caused him to utter a slight groan.
It was dark all around him and he could not see distinctly. The
roaring continued and he stretched out his hand. He felt something
smooth; probably it was the barricade in the front of the trench.
Where was his gun? If he only had a hand-grenade: the Germans would
pay dearly for any advance in that position. Again he tried to
struggle to his feet and he heard above the roar a familiar voice
speaking in his ear.
"How do you feel, Leon?" inquired Earl.
"Where are we?"
"We're on our way home."
"To America?"
"No, to the _douzième_. We'll be there before long."
"How are we going?" demanded Leon greatly puzzled. He was having a
hard time understanding what was taking place. His brain was still
stunned and worked slowly.
"We're in the monoplane," explained Earl.
"Where's Jacques?"
"He's right here."
"But the Germans?"
"Those that attacked us aren't going to bother us any more. Don't let
the thought of them worry you."
"But I don't understand," Leon persisted. "What happened?"
"When we rushed out from the woods," said Earl, "we thought there were
only two of the Germans left. You accounted for one of them yourself
when you came around in back of the machine there. The other one
Jacques took care of. We thought we had killed three of them before we
charged, but one of those three was 'playing possum.' As soon as we
passed the spot where he was lying he jumped up and grabbed you around
the neck. It was a pretty clever trick on his part and he was a
powerful fellow too; I thought you were done for for a while there."
"So did I," agreed Leon; ruefully passing his hand over his sore and
bruised throat. "Tell me though; how did you pry him off?"
"Well we had a terrible time. Jacques finally cracked him over the
head with the butt of his revolver; that finished old Mr. Boche."
"Did it kill him?"
"No," exclaimed Earl, "it merely stunned him. That was enough for us
though and we got away as fast as we could."
"How did you manage it?"
"Why we just dumped you into the monoplane here and then got aboard
ourselves and off we went."
"Before the reënforcements arrived I suppose?"
"Just before. As we left the ground and began to rise a whole troop of
cavalry came racing into the clearing. They fired at us all right but
they didn't touch us and here we are."
"It seems queer to me," said Leon, "that the Germans didn't do
something to disable the engine or some part of the machine so we
couldn't use it again."
"That's what I told Jacques," exclaimed Earl, "but he said they
probably thought we wouldn't give them any more trouble and that they
had captured a perfectly good monoplane and could use it themselves."
"Not with this paint on it."
"No, but it wouldn't take much trouble to put the distinguishing mark
of the German machines on it."
"I guess we got after them just in time," said Leon gleefully.
"We surely did," agreed Earl. "We've been pretty lucky so far."
"How do you feel, Leon?" inquired Jacques from the driver's seat.
"Only fair," admitted Leon. "My head buzzes some."
"You've got a bullet wound in your left arm too," said Earl.
"I know it. It stings a little but it isn't bad."
"I guess not," said Earl. "As soon as we get back you can have it
attended to and it'll soon heal."
"Yes," agreed Leon. "I want it cleaned for I can tell you I have no
desire to get blood poisoning."
"No danger of that if you have it looked after soon enough."
"I suppose they think we're lost back at headquarters," said Leon.
"I wonder if they do," mused Earl. "We've been away quite a while,
haven't we?"
"It seems like months to me."
"The moon has set."
"Has it? I can't see anything from here. How about helping me back
into my seat?"
With a great deal of effort and not without some pain and a few groans
on the part of the battered young soldier he finally was able, with his
brother's help, to resume his proper place. The night wind blowing
full in his face was most refreshing and served to clear his head and
revive his tired brain.
"Are we still behind the German lines?" he inquired.
"Leon wants to know if we are still behind the German lines," Earl
shouted to Jacques.
"We are," said Jacques, "and if you'll look down below you'll see
something interesting. Up ahead there."
Both brothers peered eagerly down through the darkness and in the
direction Jacques had indicated. At first they saw nothing, not even a
light of any sort, but after a moment they discovered what it was that
their pilot had in mind.
Far below and some distance in front of them they saw something that at
first they were unable to understand. Every moment or so a spark or a
shower of sparks shot into the air and then quickly faded.
"What is it?" demanded Leon.
"Rockets, I guess," said Earl.
"What is it, Jacques?" inquired Leon,
"A train."
"A German train?"
"Yes. Can't you see the sparks from the smoke stack?"
"I couldn't make out what it is."
"It's a train all right and it is undoubtedly carrying either troops or
ammunition."
"To be used against our men?" exclaimed Earl. "If we could only stop
it."
"We can and we will."
"But how?"
"Haven't we bombs with us?"
Lower and lower Jacques guided the speeding monoplane. Nearer and ever
nearer they approached to the fast rushing train beneath them. It was
directly ahead of them now and the young French pilot dogged its course
closely.
"Get your bombs ready and make 'em sure," he directed. "I'm going down
pretty low and we won't be able to waste any time."
Underneath, the dark outline of the train could be faintly seen as it
glided along its steel track bringing its load of human or mechanical
food to the hungry battle-line. Swiftly but with great care the two
brothers made ready the deadly missiles with which they hoped to foil
the plans of their enemies below.