“Let me go first, won’t you, Jack, please?”
There was no time for argument, so the other stepped aside and
permitted his chum to pass down the ladder that led from the lower part
of the structure. Since haste was a prime object with the boys just
then it can be understood that they made record time, and were at the
bottom almost “between breaths,” as Jack put it.
“I hear it sputtering somewhere!” exclaimed Amos, excitedly, as he
turned this way and that without apparently being able to make any sort
of discovery.
“And I can smell burnt powder plainly!” echoed Jack, not content to
stand still and look around, but beginning a hasty search.
It was a moment of intense anxiety to both lads. They could not tell
how long a fuse had been left by the trooper who was the last to ride
away. He had seemed to be in something of a hurry, though this might
spring from a desire to catch up with his comrades before they had gone
very far on their way.
Jack used common-sense in his search. He noted first of all which way
the air current was setting, and this told him the fumes of the burning
powder must be coming toward him from a certain quarter.
When the other boy, actually shivering with suspense, saw Jack give a
sudden leap forward and strike downward with his foot he judged that
the other must have made an important discovery of some sort.
“Did you find it?” he asked, eagerly.
“Yes, come here and see,” Jack told him.
Upon looking, Amos discovered the bomb, which was only a small
affair, though no doubt of tremendous power, for those Germans were
master-hands at manufacturing terrible weapons of destruction,
chemistry being one of their strongest holds.
“Oh! you got it just in time, seems like, Jack,” observed Amos, as he
noted the short fuse remaining after his cousin had extinguished the
fire.
“It might have lasted half a minute longer, I reckon,” said Jack,
coolly. “Plenty of time for us to get clear, if only we hadn’t been
afraid of being seen by the cavalrymen.”
“What next?” demanded Amos, who many times felt willing to put the
responsibility of affairs on the broad shoulders of his chum.
“We must get out of this, that’s sure,” replied Jack. “The only thing I
don’t like is that when there isn’t an explosion that trooper may think
it his duty to gallop back here again so as to start things afresh.”
“But we ought to be somewhere among the bushes by that time, hadn’t
we?” suggested Amos, uneasily.
“I have a better plan than that,” he was informed. “By now the man who
fired the fuse is out of sight. I imagine he has drawn in his horse,
and is waiting to hear the explosion. Amos, get outside where you can
skip along when I come rushing out in a big hurry.”
“Are you meaning to put a match to the fuse again?” asked Amos.
“Yes, there is no danger of it’s going off before we get away; but
don’t stop to argue about it, please. It’s the best thing we can do.”
Accordingly Amos bustled off, and as soon as he had left the interior
of the old windmill structure, Jack scratched a match. He joined his
chum a few seconds later.
“Now streak it like fun!” he exclaimed, and the pair started off as
fast as they could run.
Jack had figured it all out, and made certain that they were headed
in the right direction. He did not fancy running slap up against that
trooper returning to see why the bomb failed to explode.
Having used up about all the time he had figured on, Jack suddenly drew
his companion down to the ground.
“We’re safe enough here,” he gasped. “Now watch and see what happens!”
He had hardly spoken when there came a tremendous shock, such as both
of them had felt when a violent burst of thunder followed close on the
heels of a flash of lightning during an electrical storm.
“Whee!” ejaculated Amos as, looking backward, he saw the windmill being
hurled skyward in many fragments.
[Illustration: Saw the windmill being hurled skyward in many
fragments.--_Page 34._]
They heard the patter of the scattered parts falling back to earth.
Then came a heavy thud of horse’s hoofs from a point not far distant.
“There, you see he was riding back to make sure of his work,” said
Jack, meaning, of course, the trooper to whom had been assigned the
task of rendering the windmill useless as a conning tower for the
Allies. “When those Germans get an order they believe in carrying it
out, no matter the cost.”
“I hope he’s satisfied now,” remarked the second boy. “It seems that he
didn’t glimpse us running either, which I count a lucky thing.”
“Yes, because he might have chased after us, and thought it fun to jab
us with the sharp tip of that lance he carries,” chuckled Jack.
“These Uhlans make me think of certain Western Indians I used to meet
up with when on the ranch. For the life of me I can’t understand what
use they make of such an old-fashioned weapon as a lance in these days
of Maxims and modern firearms. Still, they know what they’re doing.”
“Nothing to keep us from skipping out now, is there, Jack?”
“Surely not, and we’ll write down the adventure of the windmill as a
stirring memory of this war business. Come on, Amos.”
“I see you’re heading toward the east, and I take it you mean to strike
that bunch of British making for the front? Everywhere we go we keep
on asking for information concerning one Frank Bradford; but so far we
don’t seem to have met with any great good luck. Still, I’m hoping for
the best. With such a chum as you at my right hand, a fellow would be
silly to despair.”
“It’s a long lane that has no turning, remember,” remarked Jack, as
they commenced to walk along at a smart pace.
“My brother simply told me in one of his short letters that he had
taken that name because it belonged to our mother, who was a Bradford.
I’m certain it was under it he must have enlisted. Just how he could
get a berth in the British army, being by birth an American, puzzles
me; but then he may have hoodwinked them about that; and they were in
such need of likely fellows as Frank, they shut their eyes and took him
on.”
So they conversed as they walked along. Half a mile was soon covered.
Jack had learned to keep his eyes about him constantly. It was the
education of the ranch that caused him to do this more than any
suspicion of threatening peril. So it came about he again made a
discovery that Amos failed to note.
“Look up, Amos!” he exclaimed, suddenly.
“Why, there’s another aeroplane!” cried the other, as he obeyed; “two
of them in fact, making three in all. The air is full of the big
dragon-flies, seems like; and Jack, wouldn’t you say two of them are
manœuvring around the other one that’s built along different lines?”
“Unless I miss my guess,” said Jack, soberly, “that’s a German machine.
They use the Taube model almost exclusively, as it seems to answer
their purposes. Now, I’ve got a notion that Taube pilot must have been
doing some scouting, and was trying to make his own lines when he was
cut off by these aeroplanes of the Allies. Look how they block his
efforts to get past, will you? He rises and falls, but every time one
of the other machines is in the way.”
“There, did you see that puff of smoke from the German craft?” cried
Amos. “Yes, and both of the others are shooting, too. Why, Jack, just
to think of it; we’re watching a regular battle in the air between
rival monoplanes! Doesn’t it make your blood tingle to see them
manœuvre?”
“The Taube man is getting in hot quarters, I should say,” observed the
ranch boy, as they stood and stared. “There goes a gun from over where
the British force is advancing; yes, and listen to the bombardment,
would you? They are firing shrapnel. You can see the white puffs of
smoke where the shells burst.”
“He’s doing his best to get clear, for a fact, Jack. That pilot is
daring enough, and so far seems to have held his own. Somehow I can’t
help but admire him, even if our sympathies are with the Allies.”
“A brave man is worth admiring, no matter on which side he fights,” was
the comment of the second boy; “but there isn’t much chance he’ll be
able to slip by his enemies. They’re too swift for the Taube man, it
seems like. And when he drops down, those gunners are going to fairly
pelt him with shrapnel.”
“Oh! there he goes with a swoop!” gasped Amos; “but no, he seems to
recover, and holds his own still. He’s a sure-enough jim-dandy pilot,
let me tell you, Jack! Few bird men could have done that dip and come
up smiling again.”
“Well, there’s no need of our standing here any longer,” observed
the other boy. “We can watch while we walk along. I’d hate to miss
connections with that troop, for somehow or other I keep hoping we may
run across a clue worth while.”
This seemed to suit Amos very well, and they continued their tramp,
keeping up a watch of the strange fight that was going on far up toward
the fleecy clouds. If either of them stumbled occasionally on account
of the deep interest they were taking in the wonderful exhibition of
skill and daring being paraded before their eyes it was not to be
wondered at under the circumstances.
The almost incessant roar of the guns, together with the crash of
bursting shrapnel shells far above them had effectually drowned that
dull, distant sound which from time to time had come to their ears,
being caused by heavy ordnance battering some fortified place near the
coast. Jack had even suggested that it might be the British battleships
bombarding Zeebrugge, in order to damage the submarine base the Kaiser
had instituted there.
Twice again did Amos have occasion to declare he believed the Taube had
certainly received its finishing stroke, for it acted in an eccentric
manner, and seemed to flutter like a wounded eagle of the skies. When
on both occasions he saw that it recovered in time to elude the swoop
of the Allies’ machines his praise grew louder than ever.
“I’m almost ready to wish that fellow gets away scot-free, Jack; he
certainly deserves to win out!” he declared, enthusiastically.
“I reckon he’s got something with him he considers worth fighting for
to the last gasp,” remarked the other; “but every minute this thing
keeps up his chances decrease. He makes me think of a winded steer
tottering along, and so exhausted that it seems a shame to rope him.
There, that time he must have been badly battered when the shrapnel
burst close alongside!”
“He’s winging down again, all right!” exclaimed Amos, “and this time it
means he’s got to the end of his rope. His engine has been put out of
commission most likely; and, Jack, see, he’s heading right at us!”
“That’s right!” echoed the other; “and p’raps we’ll be in at the death,
after all!”
The Taube was falling very fast, despite every effort of the expert
pilot to volplane earthward without the use of his engine. Apparently
the machine must have been badly crippled by the shower of shrapnel to
which it was lately exposed, and in addition the daring aviator may
have received wounds that prevented him from properly fulfilling his
duties.
As the two boys stood there staring, they saw the aeroplane sailing
lower and lower until it seemed to be almost skimming the surface of
the earth.
“There! he’s jumped out into that patch of bushes over yonder!”
exclaimed Amos in renewed excitement, “and the machine has pitched down
further on. He did his level best, Jack, but the game was too one-sided
for him. Wonder is he living or dead?”