Transcriber’s Notes:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
The Airship Boys in the Great War OR The Rescue of Bob Russell
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The “Ocean Flyer” Surrounded by Zeppelins._]
* * * * *
The Airship Boys In the Great War
or, The Rescue of Bob Russell
BY DE LYSLE F. CASS
[Illustration]
Illustrated by Harry O. Kennedy
The Reilly & Britton Co.
Chicago
* * * * *
Copyright, 1915 by The Reilly & Britton Co.
THE AIRSHIP BOYS IN THE GREAT WAR
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I WHAT THE NEWSPAPER TOLD 9
II IN THE OFFICES OF THE NEW YORK _Herald_ 17
III SOMEONE TRIES TO BUY THE “FLYER” 27
IV GETTING THE “FLYER” READY 33
V BUCK STEWART--AND A WARNING 46
VI ESCAPING FROM DEADLY SHADOWS 54
VII WHAT HAPPENED TO NED 62
VIII SIX MILES UP IN THE AIR 70
IX PARIS PROVES UNFRIENDLY 78
X AN ADVENTURE IN THE ARDENNES 86
XI THE FIGHT IN THE FOREST 95
XII BUCK TAKES HIS LIFE IN HIS HANDS 100
XIII “TO BE SHOT AT SUNRISE” 107
XIV THE RESCUE 115
XV IN DEADLY PERIL 124
XVI NED SAVES THE “FLYER’S” CREW 129
XVII BOB RUSSELL’S STORY 134
XVIII HOW BOB WAS CAPTURED AS A SPY 142
XIX A STRANGE COUNTRY 149
XX A FIGHT WITH WILD COSSACKS IN POLAND 157
XXI INSIDE OF BESIEGED PRZEMYSL 165
XXII THE BOYS PERFORM AN ACT OF MERCY 173
XXIII STRANGE SIGHTS IN VIENNA 182
XXIV ON THE TRAIL OF THE CONSPIRATORS 191
XXV THE BOYS GET WORRIED OVER NED 199
XXVI AN ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE THE EMPEROR 209
XXVII THE MAN IN THE CLOAK SURPRISES EVERYBODY 216
XXVIII SURROUNDED BY GERMAN ZEPPELINS 225
XXIX THE BATTLE ABOVE THE CLOUDS 230
XXX THE MOST TERRIBLE ACCIDENT OF ALL 236
XXXI THE END OF THE “OCEAN FLYER” 244
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The “Ocean Flyer” Surrounded by Zeppelins _Frontispiece_
A Narrow Escape _Page_ 60
The Rescue of Bob Russell _Page_ 118
The Mysterious Man in the Cloak _Page_ 220
* * * * *
The Airship Boys in the Great War
CHAPTER I WHAT THE NEWSPAPER TOLD
“Great Guns!” exclaimed Alan Hope, bending down over the newspaper
which he had spread out upon the table in front of him.
Ned Napier, who was deep in a pile of blue prints on his desk, glanced
over at his chum.
“Great guns exactly describes it, if you’re reading those accounts of
the war in Europe,” said he with a grin, “or maybe you’d better say the
great-_est_ guns, because that’s what they are using over there just
now. But then, we shouldn’t worry as long as they aren’t shooting up
the good old Stars and Stripes.”
“That’s just it, Ned; we _should_ worry,” answered Alan, his face
puckered into unaccustomed wrinkles, and his eyes still swiftly
scanning the pages of the newspaper before him. “We ought to worry
about this piece of news, because it concerns a mighty good friend of
ours.”
“Who! How’s that? Where is it?” cried Ned, swinging around in his
swivel chair so as to face the other boy. Seeing that Alan was still
staring as if bewildered at the paper, he arose and hurried over to the
table. Leaning down over Alan’s shoulder, he at first could only see
flaring headlines of three and four-inch black-faced type.
As Ned’s eye roved down the outspread sheet, however, it finally was
caught by a smaller sub-head, sandwiched in between reports on the
latest scandal on the Subway Investigation and alleged atrocities in
Belgium. He gave a gasp of mingled astonishment and consternation as he
read the following:
“AMERICAN WAR CORRESPONDENT IN PRISON
“Will Be Tried as a Spy!
“Associated Press Syndicate, Muhlbruck, via Brussels, November
13, (Delayed by censor).--Robert Russell, said to be an American
newspaper man, has been arrested here and put under guard, pending
trial as a spy by Gen. Haberkampf, commanding the division of the
West Battalion. The Germans are taking every precaution to safeguard
the secrecy of their maneuvers, and this arrest is said to be only
one of their determined efforts to discourage the presence of alien
war correspondents. Russell is in grave danger of being shot unless
he can satisfactorily explain certain papers found upon his person at
the time of his arrest.”
No wonder that both Ned and Alan turned pale and looked at each other
in a dazed, stupefied sort of way. Bob Russell was one of their oldest
and dearest comrades, a lad only slightly older than themselves, who
had gone through innumerable adventures with them. He had so often
accompanied them in sensational exploits, that his name was often
linked with theirs: The “Airship Boys.” He had accompanied them on
the famous twelve-hour flight of the _Ocean Flyer_ from London to New
York; he had braved death with them in Mexico when the Airship Boys put
a stop to the smuggling of Chinamen into this country; he had proved
himself an intrepid comrade when they had dared wild Indian tribes in
Navajo land in search of the hidden Aztec temple; he had risked death
with them on their dash for the North Pole.
The Airship Boys and their adventures have been written up in
newspapers and books and Bob Russell was no small factor in the success
of his friends.
Bob Russell! As tried and true a comrade as ever a boy had--always
cheerful, full of expedients, and “game” to the core. They could hardly
realize that it was he who was now threatened by such frightful death,
without a single friend near to aid him.
“Poor Bob!” exclaimed Alan, and was not at all ashamed of the
unaccustomed lump that crowded further speech from his throat. “Poor
Bob!” he repeated.
Ned had dropped his face into his hands and with closed eyes mentally
pictured the crowded, ill-smelling prison where Bob sat unshaven and
forlorn, surrounded by other wounded and miserable beings who felt no
sympathy for him nor even spoke his language--who only shrank with
wide, scared eyes from the suspicious glare of the armed Germans on
guard. Maybe Bob was thinking of him too just then, wondering what the
Airship Boys were doing, picturing them skimming luxuriously out over
the sun-kissed ocean in careless forgetfulness of him, their devoted
comrade of past days.
Alan interrupted Ned’s mournful imaginings again.
“Just think,” he cried, “of all the terrible barbarities which the
newspapers say that the Germans have inflicted upon their captives.
Think, they may perpetrate some similar awful atrocity upon poor old
Bob!”
Ned shook his head impatiently.
“No, I don’t believe they would do anything like that,” said he.
“Two-thirds of these torture and massacre stories we read about are
hysterical exaggerations, prompted either by their enemies or newspaper
writers with a lively imagination. The Germans are a kindly, civilized
people, just as the English or French, and certainly more so than the
Russians. If they shoot Bob it will be because they honestly believe
him to be a spy.”
“But they mustn’t shoot him! It must be stopped some way!”
“Yes, but how? If all of the influence that Uncle Sam can exert won’t
protect him, what can?”
“_We_ can, Ned. There is no time to wait for diplomatic negotiations,
which may accomplish nothing anyway. Remember that this newspaper says
that certain incriminating papers have been found on Bob’s person. If
he is to be saved it must be done immediately and by us two alone. We
can take the _Ocean Flyer_ and reach Belgium in twenty or twenty-one
hours, just as easily as we made that trip from New York to London in
eighteen hours last year.”
“I admit that we can get there soon enough,” answered Ned, “but what
about the third man whom we’ll need to help us manage the airship?”
“Why not ‘Buck’ Stewart, who went with us on the _Flyer’s_ trip to
London? We know that he is absolutely dependable, and is familiar with
the workings of the ship besides. Then, too, the _Herald_ will be more
than glad of the chance to send one of its reporters with us to see the
war at close range.”
Alan’s intense enthusiasm began to communicate itself to the
slower-thinking, more practical Ned, but he was not ready to act
without mature consideration of all the difficulties involved which
might make a failure of their attempt.
“I don’t want you to think me lukewarm about doing anything in our
power to save Bob,” said he, “but we’ve got to look carefully at
all sides of this thing. Don’t you realize that the United States
government wouldn’t sanction any high-handed breaking of neutrality
laws that might drag it into the war, just because an American citizen
was held captive?”
“Then let’s go without the government’s permission! Who is there to
stop us? We can get enough credentials from Mr. Latimer, managing
editor of the _Herald_, to tide us over small passport difficulties,
and further than those we certainly can depend upon ourselves. We won’t
have to flaunt the Stars and Stripes under the nose of every foreigner
we happen to meet over there anyway. Remember what Senator Bascom said
in his speech on the Mexican war: ‘If the life of a single United
States citizen is at stake, it is worth all of the millions of mere
money that international war may cost us.’ We can’t desert good old Bob
in an emergency like this, can we?”
“No!” shouted Ned, jumping to his feet and banging his fists on the
desk in front of him. “You’re right, Alan. We’re going to show those
chaps over there that it’s not such ‘a long, long way to Tipperary,’
after all, providing one can travel in the Airship Boys’ _Ocean Flyer_
at the rate of two hundred miles an hour. Get on your hat and overcoat,
Alan! We’re going over to the _Herald_ office right now to see what
the editor of the _Herald_ will do for us.”
“Hip, hip, hurrah!” shouted Alan, and grabbing Ned’s out-stretched
hands they did a truly boyish war-dance around the sober, stately
offices of the Universal Transportation Company, of which they were the
heads.