THE GAS ATTACK
“I’ve got to find Roger--I’ve _got_ to do it!”
Such were the words that Dave murmured to himself as he dashed away
from Phil’s side, making off in the direction where he had last seen
Roger Morr. As he advanced he adjusted his gas mask, knowing that it
would be foolhardy to move along without it, even though it somewhat
impeded his breathing.
Dave was filled with a great fear for the welfare of the lad who had
been his chum for so many years and who just before leaving home had
become engaged to his sister.
“If he’s all right, he’ll know how to make use of his gas mask, even if
the mouthpiece is broken,” he reasoned to himself. “But if he’s badly
wounded, or is unconscious, he won’t be able to save himself when the
gas reaches him. Oh, I’ve got to find him--I’ve just _got_ to!”
To those of my readers who have perused one or more of the former
volumes in this series, Dave Porter will need no introduction. For the
benefit, however, of those who are now meeting Dave for the first
time, let me state a few facts concerning his boyhood and the years
immediately following.
When a very small lad Dave had been found wandering alongside the
railroad tracks in Crumville in one of our eastern States. No one came
forward to claim him, and he was put in the local poorhouse and later
on bound out to a one-time college professor, Caspar Potts, who was
then farming for his health.
In a fine mansion on the outskirts of Crumville dwelt Mr. Oliver
Wadsworth, a wealthy jewelry manufacturer, with his wife and his
daughter Jessie. One day the gasoline tank of an automobile took fire,
and little Jessie was in danger of being burned to death when Dave, who
chanced to be near, rushed to her rescue. Because of this brave act,
the rich jewelry manufacturer became interested in the boy and decided
that he should be given the benefit of a good education.
The lad was sent to a first-class boarding-school, as related in the
first volume of this series, entitled, “Dave Porter at Oak Hall.” With
Dave went Ben Basswood, his one friend in the town.
At Oak Hall, Dave made a host of friends, including Roger Morr, the son
of a well-known United States senator; Phil Lawrence, whose father was
a rich shipowner; Maurice Hamilton, who loved to tell stories and who
was generally known as “Shadow” because of his thinness: and Buster
Beggs, who was as stout as he was good-natured.
It can be easily understood that in those days the principal thing that
troubled Dave was the question of his parentage. Some mean schoolboys
called him a “poorhouse nobody”; and to solve the mystery of his
identity he took a long voyage, as related in “Dave Porter in the South
Seas.” He met his uncle, Dunston Porter, and learned much concerning
his father, David Breslow Porter, and also his sister Laura, who were
at that time traveling in Europe.
After his trip to the South Seas, Dave returned for a while to school,
but then went to the Far North and succeeded in locating his father.
In the meantime, Dave’s sister had gone to the West, to visit her
intimate friend, Belle Endicott, who lived on Star Ranch in Montana.
Later still, Laura, Dave and some of his chums visited the ranch and
there had “the time of their lives,” as they afterward declared.
Coming back from the West, Dave supposed that matters would flow
along smoothly, but such was not the case. At Christmas time came a
startling robbery of the Wadsworth jewelry works, and Dave and his
chums discovered that the crime had been committed by two of the former
bullies of Oak Hall. After a voyage to Cave Island one of the rascals
was captured and the stolen goods recovered.
The trip to Cave Island was later on followed by another to the great
West, where Dave aided Roger Morr in relocating a gold mine which had
been inherited by Mrs. Morr and lost through a landslide.
After this our hero went to Bear Camp in the Adirondack Mountains.
There he had a most unusual experience, falling in with a young man who
was almost his double in appearance.
Dave had now graduated from Oak Hall, and he and Roger Morr had taken
up the profession of civil engineering. This work at first took
them to Texas, and then to the wilds of Montana. They had positions
with the Mentor Construction Company, and their camp was under the
general management of Mr. Ralph Obray, assisted by a number of others,
including a middle-aged engineer, Frank Andrews, who speedily became a
warm friend of the youths.
It was a great day for the young civil engineers when they set sail
for Central America to assist in the work of building a railroad in
Costa Rica. This was at the time when the World War was in progress in
Europe, but before the United States had entered the conflict. They
were in the midst of some exciting happenings in the Central American
republic when word came that the United States had joined with the
Allies “to make the world safe for democracy.”
“Roger, how would you like to become an army engineer?” Dave had asked
of his chum. And then he had spoken of how the United States Government
would probably need hundreds of army engineers to assist the soldiers
in their battles with the Central Powers.
Mr. Ralph Obray had once been a major in the State militia, and on
returning to the United States he became a captain of a unit of the
engineers raised by the Engineering Society. He was very anxious to
have Dave and Roger join this unit, and after consulting with their
folks, the two young civil engineers were sworn into the service. With
them went Ben Basswood, and also Phil Lawrence, Shadow Hamilton, and
Buster Beggs.
Before the boys left home to go to Camp Hickory, as the cantonment
was called, several interesting events took place. As my old readers
know, to Dave there was no girl in the world quite so nice as Jessie
Wadsworth, and the pair had a very definite understanding regarding
what they intended to do when Dave returned from the war.
Roger had always been very attentive to Laura Porter, and just before
leaving for camp their engagement was announced.
On his first trip to Star Ranch, Phil Lawrence had become enamored of
Belle Endicott, and the happiness of his chums made him exceedingly
anxious regarding his own future. He sent an earnest telegram to Belle;
and a little later met that young lady in New York City and there got
her to promise something which was in every degree highly satisfactory
to the shipowner’s son.
From Camp Hickory the young civil engineers entrained for an American
port, and there went aboard one of the big army transports, as related
in the last volume of this series, entitled, “Dave Porter Under Fire.”
This transport was attacked by two submarines, but escaped injury, and
a little later the young soldiers found themselves on French soil. Here
they went into intensive training for a number of weeks and were then
sent to the front.
While in the training camp at home Dave and the others had made the
acquaintance of a French widow, who had suffered much because of the
war and because of the doings of a German spy, named Rudolph Holtzmann.
The poor widow’s two children had been lost during the first upheaval
of war in Alsace-Lorraine, and to add to her misery she was later on
robbed by the spy, who had been boarding with her.
All the “fighting engineers,” as they were affectionately termed, had
had some strenuous adventures during those first few weeks on the
firing line. They had been set to building roadways and bridges,
and had been under fire on more than one occasion. Then, during a
brief respite in their work, Dave had gotten word concerning Rudolph
Holtzmann, and, with the aid of the French authorities, had succeeded
in cornering this rascal and had discovered the whereabouts of the
Widow Carot’s missing children.
Dave, Roger, and Phil had been cited in the orders of the day for
bravery, and a little later Dave had been made a sergeant of the
engineers, while Roger and Phil became corporals.
“You’re getting up in the world, Dave,” had been Roger’s comment.
“First thing you know, you’ll be a lieutenant or a captain.”
“Time enough for that, Roger,” Dave answered. “I think you’ve got just
as good a chance as I have. In fact, I can’t understand why they didn’t
make you and Phil sergeants as well as myself.”
“Oh, we didn’t do as much as you did,” the senator’s son had answered.
“You always were a natural-born leader.”
“Oh, cut it, Roger!” Dave had cried. Nevertheless, he knew that his
chum was sincere in what he said, and he was correspondingly pleased.
At heart Roger was one of the best fellows in the world, and it was
with intense satisfaction that Dave had learned the young man was one
day to become his only sister’s husband.
And that was the reason why, as he dashed through the rain-soaked wood,
Dave told himself that he must find Roger, no matter at what cost. He
felt that if he failed in this his sister would never forgive him, and,
for the matter of that, he would never forgive himself.
He ploughed forward through the soaked underbrush and scrambled over
the rough rocks as best he could. Then, as looking through the mask was
difficult, he took a deep breath, and, holding it, took the mask off
for a moment to gaze around him anxiously. But no human being was in
sight, and, readjusting his mask, he went forward once again. Glancing
backward, he saw that Phil was swiftly following him.
Off to the north of where he had been walking there had been at one
time something of a woods’ trail, used probably by the farmers of that
vicinity. This was much torn up, with shell craters dotting it at short
distances. As Dave came closer to this abandoned trail he caught sight
of something which caused him to stop in wonder. There, sheltered by
some rocks and a mass of brushwood, were a heap of unused shells,
evidently for three-inch guns.
“How in the world did those shells get here?” he asked himself. “They
certainly don’t belong to our artillery.”
A brief examination revealed to the young engineer that they were
German shells. They had probably been left there by the Huns at the
time they had tried to take the wood several weeks before. A slight
advance had been made by one or two German regiments, but this had been
repulsed by the American artillery.
“I’ll have to report this to headquarters as soon as I get back,” he
told himself.
He was just turning away from the pile of shells when Phil came up.
He pointed the pile out to his chum, and the young corporal was much
surprised. He motioned to the shells and then toward the American line,
but Dave shook his head and pointed toward the German line, to indicate
that they must be shells left there by the enemy.
So far there was but a slight trace of gas throughout the wood, but
as the two young civil engineers advanced they met a cloud of the
poisonous vapor rolling toward them in a yellowish haze. Dave felt of
his mask to make sure that it was properly adjusted and pointed to
Phil’s, who nodded to show that he also was on his guard.
Presently the pair reached the spot where Roger had last been seen by
them. They looked around in every direction, but without avail. Then
Dave looked at his chum, but Phil merely shrugged his shoulders to show
that he did not know what to make of the situation or what to do next.