LOOKING BACKWARD
"Just see the fiendish cleverness of the fellow who filed that stay!"
Tom cried, as they all stared. "He filled the indentation his sharp file
made with a bit of wax or chewing-gum of the same general color. Why, no
one would ever have noticed the least thing wrong when making the
ordinary examination."
"Then how did you manage to find it, Tom?" asked Jack, breathing hard,
as he pictured to himself the narrow escape he had had.
"I suspected something of the kind might be done; so I ran my thumb-nail
down each wire stay," came the answer. "And it turned out just as I
thought."
"There may be still more places filed in the same way," suggested the
other pilot, looking as black as a thunder-cloud; because such an act
was in his mind the rankest sort of treachery, worthy of only the most
degraded man.
"We will find them if there are," replied Tom, resolutely. "And when
this thing is known I imagine there'll be a general overhauling of all
the machines on the aviation field. One thing is certain, Jack. You were
playing in great luck when you suggested that we ask for a day off and
then picked out this particular one."
Jack shrugged his shoulders as he replied:
"That's right, Tom."
Nothing could be done just then, with night coming on. Tom talked with
several of the attendants at the hangars, and left it to them to go to
work with the coming of morning. He even showed them how cunningly the
work had been carried out; so they might be on their guard against such
a trick from that time forward.
Then the three returned to the villa. Others of the members of the
escadrille were in the car with the trio, so the talk was general,
experiences of the day's happenings being narrated, all told in a
careless fashion, as if those young aviators considered all such risks
as part of the ordinary routine of business.
Later on the news concerning Jack's singular warning, and what came of
it went the rounds. He was asked to show the brief note many times; but
in answer to the questions that came pouring in upon him, Jack could not
say more than he had already said with regard to his suspicions
concerning the probable writer of the message.
That night Tom and Jack preferred the quiet of their own apartment to
the general sitting-room, where the tired pilots gathered to smoke,
talk, play games, sing, and give their opinions on every topic
imaginable, including scraps of news received in late letters from home
towns across the sea.
"Do you know, Tom," Jack said unexpectedly; "I'd give something to know
where Bessie Gleason is just at this time. It's strange how often I
think about that young girl. It's just as if something that people call
intuition told me she might be in serious trouble through that
hard-looking guardian of hers, Carl Potzfeldt."
Tom smiled.
Bessie Gleason was a very pretty and winsome girl of about twelve years
of age, with whom Jack in particular had been quite "chummy" on the
voyage across the Atlantic, and through the submarine zone, as related
in "Air Service Boys Flying for France." The last he had seen of her was
when she waved her hand to him when leaving the steamer at its English
port. Her stern guardian had contracted a violent dislike for Jack, so
that the two had latterly been compelled to meet only in secret for
little confidential chats.
"Oh, you've taken to imagining all sorts of terrible things in
connection with pretty Bessie and her cruel guardian. He claimed to be a
Swiss, or a native of Alsace-Lorraine, which was it, Jack?"
"Uh-huh," murmured Jack Parmly, his thoughts just then far away from Tom
and his question, though fixed on Carl Potzfeldt and his young ward.
Bessie Gleason was a little American girl, a child of moods, fairylike
in appearance and of a maturity of manner that invariably attracted
those with whom she came in contact.
Her mother had been lost at sea, and by Mrs. Gleason's will the girl and
her property were left in Potzfeldt's care. Mr. Potzfeldt was taking her
to Europe, and on the steamship she and Jack Parmly had been friends,
and as Potzfeldt's actions were suspicious and, moreover, the girl did
not seem happy with him Jack had been troubled about her.
"I'm afraid you think too much about Bessie and her troubles, Jack; and
get yourself worked up about things that may never happen to her," Tom
went on after a pause.
"I knew you'd say that, Tom," the other told him reproachfully. "But I'm
not blaming you for it. However, there are several things Bessie told me
that I haven't mentioned to you before; and they help to make me feel
anxious about her happiness. She's a queer girl, you know, and intensely
patriotic."
"Yes I noticed that, even if you did monopolize most of her time,"
chuckled Tom.
"How she does hate the Germans, though! And that's what will get her
into trouble I'm afraid, if she and her guardian have managed to get
through the lines in any way, and back to his home town, wherever that
may be."
"Why should she feel so bitter toward the Kaiser and his people, Jack?"
"I'll tell you. Her mother was drowned. She was aboard the
_Lusitania_, and was never seen after the sinking. Mr. Potzfeldt
was there too, it seems, but couldn't save Mrs. Gleason, he claims,
though he tried in every way to do so. She was a distant relative of
his, you remember."
"Then if Bessie knows about her mother's death," Tom went on to say, "I
don't wonder she feels that way toward everything German. I'd hate the
entire race if my mother had been murdered, as those women and children
were, when that torpedo was launched against the great passenger steamer
without any warning."
"She told me she felt heart-broken because she was far too young to do
anything to assist in the drive against the central empires. You see,
Bessie has great hopes of some day growing tall enough to become a war
nurse. She is deeply interested in the Red Cross; and Tom, would you
believe it, the midget practices regular United States Army standing
exercises in the hope of hastening her growth."
"I honor the little girl for her ambition," Tom said. "But I'm inclined
to think this war will be long past before she has grown to a suitable
size to enlist among the nurses of the Paris hospitals. And if that Carl
Potzfeldt entertains the sentiments we suspected him of, and is secretly
in sympathy with the Huns, although passing for a neutral, her task will
be rendered doubly hard."
"That's what makes me feel bad every time I get to thinking of Bessie.
If only we could chance to run across them again I'd like to engineer
some scheme by which she could be taken away from her guardian. For
instance, if only it could be proved that Potzfeldt was in the pay of
the German Government, don't you see he could be stood up against a
wall, and fixed; and then some one would be found able and willing to
take care of the girl."
Tom laughed again.
"How nicely you make your arrangements, Jack! Very pleasant outlook for
poor Mr. Potzfeldt, I should say. Why, you hustle him off this earth
just as if he didn't matter thirty cents."
"It isn't because I'm heartless," expostulated the other hurriedly. "But
I'm sure that dark-faced man is a bad egg. We suspected him of being
hand-in-glove with Adolph Tuessig, the man who stole your father's
invention, and who we knew was a hired German spy over in America. And
from little hints Bessie dropped once in a while I am certain he doesn't
treat her well."
"Still, we can't do the least thing about it, Jack. If fortune should
ever bring us in contact with that pair again, why then we could perhaps
think up some sort of scheme to help Bessie. Now, I've got something
important to tell you."
"Something the captain must have said when he was chatting with you in
the mess-room immediately after supper, I guess. At the time I thought
he might be asking you about our adventures of to-day, but then I
noticed that he was doing pretty much all the talking. What is on the
carpet for us now?"
"We're going to be given our chance at last, Jack!"
"Do you mean to fly with the fighting escadrille, and meet German pilots
in a life and death battle up among the clouds?" asked Jack, in a voice
that had a tinge of awe about it; for he had often dreamed of such
honors coming to him; but the realization still seemed afar off.
"That is what we are promised," his chum assured him. "Of course our
education is not yet complete; but we have shown such progress that, as
there is need of additional pilots able to meet the Fokker planes while
a raid is in progress, we are to be given a showing."
"I'll not sleep much to-night for thinking of it," declared Jack.