The Boy Scouts on the Trail

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They followed him through a field that seemed deserted, then came to a
small cluster of tents, where they stopped.

"Wait here," said the corporal. "I'll bring the lieutenant."

They did not have long to wait before a young officer approached them.

"My word!" he said, when he saw how young they were. "What are you
youngsters doing here?"

"We're looking for headquarters, sir," said Frank. "We are carrying
despatches from Amiens."

"All right! Give them to me, and I'll see that they're forwarded, my
lads," said the officer, with a grin.

"We can't do that, sir," said Frank. "Our orders are to carry them to
headquarters--and to give the word Mezieres."

"Ah, that's different, now," said the officer. "Corporal, give me two
men to take these despatch-bearers through the lines," came the order.

The giving of the word had made a great change in his attitude. It was
plain that before that he had not taken them seriously, but had supposed
them to be playing some prank. Now, however, he looked at them
curiously.

"Boy Scouts?" he suggested.

"Yes, sir," said Frank. "Detailed to special duty, without uniforms."

"I see! Jolly plucky of you, I call it. I say, you're not French, my
lad, are you? How did you get here? Well, never mind! Here's your
escort. Be off with you, now."

Their troubles were over now. Within five minutes they were at
headquarters. There a weary staff officer received them. They saluted.

"Very well," he said. "Give me your despatches."

Each of them produced his handful of marbles from his pocket, and laid
them solemnly before the major. He stared, first at the marbles, then at
them.

"What sort of a silly prank is this?" he roared. "Do you think we've
nothing better to do than to waste time in jokes? If you were men--"

"We are obeying orders, sir," said Frank, quietly. "Those are the
despatches Colonel Menier at Amiens gave us to deliver. He said that
only one officer here would know what they meant, and how to get the
despatches."

"O, I beg your pardon," said the major. He took down his telephone. "Ask
if despatches are expected from Amiens," he said, into the instrument.
"And find out who is in charge."

"There is another matter, sir," said Frank. "We saw German troops as we
came here."

"Uhlans. Yes, they're all around behind us. One squadron of them was cut
up when it attacked a convoy. There aren't many of them."

"No, sir, I didn't mean Uhlans. There is a force of infantry--five
thousand men, we estimated--"

"What?" thundered the major, springing to his feet, "You must be
dreaming! Where did you think you saw them? And where were they?"

Frank explained.

"It sounds incredible," said the major, frowning. "Come! I'll take you
to General Smith-Derrien. If that's true, it's highly important news.
Here, show me on this map just the place where you say you saw them."

Frank and Henri pointed at once to the wood in which the German infantry
had vanished, then followed the major out of the room.

CHAPTER XI

AN UNEXPECTED CHANCE

The first impression they had of General Smith-Derrien was of his
absolute calmness. The major had been excited when he heard the report
of the German infantry in the woods. But when they entered the room in
which sat the British general who was responsible for the retreat, as
they guessed, they saw a quiet-faced man with smiling eyes, who listened
attentively to the reports of the officers who were constantly hurrying
up to him, spoke a word or two in answer, and turned, imperturbably, to
the next comer.

Their guide left them near the door.

"Wait a minute here," he said. "I'll tell the General your story. But
he'll want to speak to you himself. He always does."

Frank watched the British leader closely as he turned to the major, who
now went up to him. If the news moved him, he gave no sign of his
emotion. Instead he nodded quickly, once or twice; then he looked over
toward Frank and Henri. The major turned to them, beckoning, and they
went up. General Smith-Derrien was sitting at a table. Before him was an
ordnance map of the section covered by his operations.

"Now tell me exactly what happened, as quickly as you can," he said.
"You saw these Germans--just where? Point it out on the map. Give me
your position and the road they took."

Frank and Henri studied the map a moment. They traced their own course
from Amiens; soon they found the spot. The map was on a very large
scale, and it showed the hills and a great deal of detail. It was easy
to explain just where they had seen the Germans.

"They went into the woods, you say," said the general. "But why did you
think they stayed there? Why shouldn't they have gone on?"

"I went along the road to a spot where I could see beyond the woods,
sir," said Frank. "And there was no sign of them."

"You did? That was excellent--regular scouting. Oh, I fancy I
understand! Boy Scouts, are you?"

"Yes, sir," they echoed together.

"Well, if your information is exact--and I have no reason to doubt it,
of course--you did a very fine piece of scouting, and I shall be glad to
see that you get the proper amount of credit for it, when the time
comes. Now your information is most valuable. But before I can act on
it, I must be absolutely certain that it is accurate. Will one of you
help one of my scouts to determine this?"

"Let me go, sir," said Frank, quickly. "I was the one who saw the other
side of the woods--"

"But I know the country best," protested Henri. "And--"

"I think you'd better go," said the general to Frank. Perhaps he thought
Frank was English; in any case he selected him. "I don't think it will
be dangerous at all, or I shouldn't let you go. We haven't started using
boys in this war yet. Major, you will see to it that a start is made as
soon as possible!" turning to that officer.

The major saluted.

"Yes, sir, at once," he said. "The one who does not go can deliver the
despatches they brought from Amiens--a handful of marbles!"

"Eh? What's that? Those are the despatches from Colonel Menier. I'll
take those!"

Plainly, since he knew of them, he was the officer to whom they should
be delivered. So Frank and Henri, not without some misgivings, since the
major's annoyance at the sight of the marbles had rather depressed them,
handed over their marbles. General Smith-Derrien picked them up, weighed
them in his hand, and finally selected two, to the undisguised amazement
of his staff. But when he pressed a hidden spring, and each marble flew
back, showing that it was hollow, cries of admiration came from those
who were close by.

"Very well. They are in good order," he said, after a glance at the thin
but tough paper. "I will send an answer by the scout who remains here."

The major was already moving toward the door, and Frank, with a quick
grasp of Henri's hand and a salute for the general, followed him. He was
sorry for Henri's disappointment, but he had made up his mind when they
left Amiens that whenever possible, he himself would take any risks that
were to be run. No one would care greatly if anything happened to him,
since his parents were dead, and his only other close relative was his
uncle, of whom he had seen very little. But Henri's mother was alive,
and, moreover, she had troubles enough. Her husband was at the front,
and there was no telling whether or not he would ever return.

"Come along, young 'un," said the major. His name, Frank learned, when a
passing officer spoke to him, was Cooper. "Know what you're going to
do?"

"I'm to help a scout to determine the position of the Germans we saw,"
said Frank.

"Yes, but how? In an aeroplane, my lad! I envy you. They've never let me
go up in one of the blooming things yet--and just because I happen to
be assigned to a special job here with the staff. A lot of fun this war
is going to be for me! We've been at it pretty nearly a month, and I
haven't been under fire yet!"

Frank found it hard to conceal his delight. He had always wanted to have
the experience of riding in an aeroplane, but never before had he seen
even a remote chance that it would be gratified. Now he was to have
fulfilled one of his most cherished ambitions--and in what a way! To fly
with one of the wonderful aviators of whom he had been hearing ever
since the war began, and over hostile territory. Risk! What if there
was?

In his own room Major Cooper sent an orderly flying, and in a few
moments he returned, followed by a spare, tall man in a uniform
differing slightly from that of the regular troops. He wore a heavy
sweater, and on his head was a headgear resembling, Frank thought, that
worn by football players in America.

"You sent for me, Major?"

"Yes, Captain Greene. You'll have to make a flight to-night. This lad is
one of two Boy Scouts who have reported seeing German infantry in rather
considerable force south and west of our position here. He will show you
on the map just where he says they are lying up. The general wants to
verify this report or disprove it as quickly as possible. Your orders
are simply to make a reconnaissance and to run no avoidable risks. If it
is possible, ascertain the facts without betraying your own presence. I
have detailed you because you have a silent motor."

"Very well, sir," said Captain Greene. "Now, then, my lad, sharp's the
word. Show me just where you say these Germans are."

For the third time Frank pointed out the spot on the map, and the flyer
whistled.

"Don't wonder you want to know where they are!" he said. "If that's so,
it's a pretty big sell for us flying chaps--eh, what? We rather fancied
there wasn't a chance for them to do anything that we didn't know all
about as soon as it was done."

"Exactly," said the major, rather dryly. "Well, here's your chance to
make up for errors of omission. Get the facts, and get back as quickly
as you can."

"All right. Double quick, young 'un. What's your name, eh? Might as well
be sociable!"

Frank told him, and liked the tall aviator immensely. But there was no
more talk between them as he followed the captain to the outside. He had
all he could do to keep up with the Englishman's great strides without
trying to talk too. Greene led the way to a park-like enclosure, where,
under shaded electric lights that lit the ground fully but were so
screened that no betraying flashes showed from above, a dozen aeroplanes
stood, gaunt and ghostlike in the night.

"See those lights?" said Greene. "If one of those German Johnnies in a
Taube came along he could make a lot of mess by dropping a couple of
bombs down here. An aeroplane's delicate enough as it is. A bomb will
put it out of business in no time. Here we are! Wait till I try the
motor and see to my tank. If you run out of petrol at five hundred feet
you can't always find a garage where they'll sell you more!"

The tank was full, however. His mechanic had seen to that. And the
engine responded beautifully to the first test.

"All right," said Greene. "In with you! Ever been up?"

"No. This is my first trip," said Frank.

"Easy enough, if you don't get scared. Keep perfectly still. No matter
what happens, don't touch me or anything except the grips for your hands
that you'll find there. She's apt to rock and kick like a broncho
sometimes but you can't fall out, because you'll be strapped in.
Remember, now, don't touch me and don't touch any levers or anything
else you see."

CHAPTER XII

THE MONOPLANE

Looking down from above, as he was doing, it was hard for Frank to keep
his bearings at all. Naturally, everything looked very different. He had
been used to looking up at houses, and had had them in one plane. Now
everything was flat before him. In the day time the resemblance of the
country as he now saw it to a map might have helped him. But at night,
even on a clear night, things were blurred. Fences and roads ran
together confusedly. And this night was not clear. The day had been
fair, but now clouds were coming up.

"We'll have some rain, hang it!" said Greene. "The firing seems to bring
it. At least that's what they say. Wonder if it's true? I suppose it
might."

"I should think it might be a good thing," said Frank. "It'll make it
harder for them to see us, won't it! And that ought to help us."

"Yes, but it'll make it a good deal harder for us to see what we're
after, too. Cuts both ways, you see. Still I don't mind as long as we
don't have fog or wind, and I think I'd rather have the wind. You know
where you're at with wind, anyway. In a fog--Lord! You've no idea what a
thing fog is until you've tried to make a landing in it."

With the motor muffled down, they were able to talk easily. In the
earlier days of aeroplanes the motor made so much noise that anything
like a sustained conversation was impossible. But now the motor only
purred gently in their ears, just like that of a motor car. For military
purposes the silence thus obtained more than made up for the slight
sacrifice of power. The more old-fashioned 'planes, many of which were
still in use, advertised their presence to an enemy as soon as they came
at all near. But this new type, largely used by the British and the
French, as Frank knew, had to be seen before they were in any danger,
so silently do they wing their flight.

"Talking about fog," Greene went on, talking as indifferent as if they
had been on solid ground, "I had a nasty experience just before Kaiser
Bill started this trouble. Went up at Sheerness, for an experimental
flight in this same 'plane. First time I'd had her out, and I didn't
know her very well. And one of those old-fashioned sea fogs came rolling
in when I was ten miles from anywhere. Never saw anything so sudden in
my life!"

"How did you find your way, sir?"

"I didn't! I just went up and up until I was above the fog and in the
sunlight. You can do that, you know. But that was a queer fog--rose a
whole lot. Anyway, when I got above it, it was precious cold. And the
sun didn't do me much good. I'd got lost, so far as my bearings below
were concerned, making spirals as I went up. What I hoped for was to
find out something when I was above the fog."

"How was that? You mean that the fog would only spread over a certain
distance?" he asked.

"That's it exactly. Only I didn't know that fog! So far as I could tell,
it spread over all England and Ireland, too, with some left over for
France! Only one thing for it, of course. I knew I'd get away from it if
I kept on flying. So I steered by the sun as well as I could, and kept
on until my petrol began to run short, and a cylinder began missing. And
then, just as I was wondering whose windows I'd break when I went down,
it began to thin out, and slipped away as quickly as it had come. And I
was right above the golf links on Wimbledon Common. I volplaned down,
and landed on a putting green, and an old colonel who'd been invalided
home from India said I'd done it on purpose, and he was going to have me
court-martialled!"

Frank laughed heartily at the story. But at the same time, he suspected
Captain Greene's purpose in telling it. He thought the captain wanted to
keep his spirits up, and make him forget that he had never had a flight
before, and he admired and liked him more than ever in consequence,
even though, as he told himself, it wasn't necessary.

"Hello! I think we're getting near your spot, young 'un," said Greene,
abruptly. He dipped down, and Frank peered down to see where they were.

"Yes," he cried, in assent. "There's the hill we were coming down when
we saw them, just as we rounded that turn. That's the road they were
marching along, and there, over to our left, are the woods. I wonder if
they're still there."

"We'll soon know," said Greene. "Now for a little climbing. I'm not
afraid of being hit, but orders are to find them without being seen, if
we can manage it. So we'll try the high spots for a bit."

At once the monoplane began climbing, ascending in great spirals. Frank
was absorbed by the sensation. He found that he could see the ground
receding without feeling any qualms, and said so.

"You're lucky," said Greene, briefly. "Made me feel queer first few
times I tried it, I can tell you. You're probably a born flyer--and the
chances are you'll never do much of it, I suppose! Always the way!"

Frank, looking down, saw that they were moving away from the woods which
they were to reconnoitre, and mentioned it.

"Got to," said Greene, briefly. "Then we'll fly back. We can't climb in
a straight line. When I went out for altitude once, I made twelve
thousand feet, and when I finished climbing I was nearly fifteen miles,
in a straight line, from where I started. Let's see. Got that flashlight
I gave you? Play it right on the board there till I tell you to stop."

Frank obeyed, shooting the little spear of light on the various
instruments in front of the aviator.

"All right. Hold it there. My barograph, you see. Gives me my height by
showing the change in atmospheric pressure. That's how we calculate
height. Not very exact, because all sorts of things vary the pressure.
But it's near enough. A thousand feet! That's good enough. I don't
believe they're looking for us. We don't usually scout behind our own
lines."

Now he brought the monoplane around in a great sweep and flew straight
over the woods. But, though Frank looked down through powerful navy
night glasses, of the sort that are used for look-out duty at sea, he
could see nothing.

"Clasp them around my head--so," said Greene. "See the trick? All right!
Now I'll have a look. There's another pair in my pocket--use those for
yourself."

But if the Germans were there, they were concealing their presence with
a good deal of care and skill.

"Have to go lower, then," decided Greene. "Get ready! We'll shoot the
chutes now."

He pointed the monoplane straight down, cut out his motor, and glided
earthward in a glorious volplane, the most wonderful sensation that even
flight, with all its wonders, can afford. When the earth seemed about to
come up and hit them, though it was still actually a good five hundred
feet below, he caught the machine, righted it, and started the motor
again. Then he had to fly back until he was again directly over the
woods, and once more, while the monoplane moved very slowly, they peered
down. But still there was no sign.

"Humph!" said Greene. "If they were supposed to be anything but Germans,
I'd say you'd told us a cock and bull story, young 'un! English troops,
or French, would show some sort of a light. Some fool would take a
chance to get a smoke. But these Germans! They're not men--they're
machines. They'll obey orders that officers wouldn't take the trouble to
give in any other army. We'll have to make sure. Up we go again!"

Frank could not see how going up would make it possible for them to get
the information that coming down hadn't afforded. But he said nothing,
because he had come to feel by this time that when Captain Greene did a
thing he had a perfectly sound reason for his action. Nor was he wrong.
Once more they climbed in a high spiral curve until they were higher
than they had been before. For the first time, Frank now felt a peculiar
ringing in his ears. He mentioned it, and Greene laughed.

"Pressure," he said. "You'll get used to it! Lord, sometimes I've felt
as if my head would burst when I started to climb. But it doesn't last
long. Feel in the seat there beside you, at your left. There ought to be
a big electric torch."

"Here it is! I've got it, sir," said Frank, a moment later.

"All right. Touch the button at the end. Let's see if it lights up
properly."

It did, decidedly, for the result was a blinding glare.

"Pretty powerful, isn't it?" said Greene. "It's used for signalling, you
see. Flash the light, and you can reproduce Morse perfectly. When you're
high up it can be seen a long way, too. Now hold it straight down and
flash it, then give a steady glare. Let us see if we cannot draw
anything."

Frank obeyed, at the same time getting a glimpse of Greene's idea. He
held the torch pointing straight down, and saw the beam of light
shooting straight down. It was not powerful enough, of course, by the
time it reached the treetops, to illuminate them, and so make anything
below visible, but it was certainly strong enough to be observed from
below, he thought. But still there was no movement, and the uncanny
silence and darkness below persisted.

"All right. There's still another chance," said Greene, patiently. He
drew a revolver from his pocket.

"Flash your little light this way. Let me see if it's all right," he
said.

Frank obeyed.

"New fangled automatic--very powerful, and shoots a .44 bullet almost as
far as an old-fashioned rifle," explained Greene. "Very useful if one
runs into another 'plane unexpectedly--and the other fellow happens to
be a German."

A moment later he opened fire, shooting straight downward. He could not
aim, of course, but it was not his object to hit anything. He emptied
one clip of cartridges, and before the last shot was fired the woods
below began to spit fire. At once the monoplane began racing.

"Got 'em!" cried Greene, exultingly. "I thought that would do it! It
isn't human nature to be under fire without sending back a shot or
two--not even German human nature!"

No bullets came near them, but there was no longer any possible doubt
that the Germans were below. The fusillade had settled that. Greene
slowed down.

"Show your light quickly, then douse it at once," he cried.

Frank flashed the light of the big torch for an instant. And at once the
monoplane shot forward.

"See the point?" cried Greene. "They'll aim at where the light was. Only
we won't be obliging enough to be there! Well, this is a good night's
work, my lad! You were right, and if I'm not much mistaken, you'll get
your name in dispatches for this. The beggars! I'd like to know how they
got through without being spotted!"

All the time the monoplane was racing away. But suddenly there was a
sharp crack behind them, and in an agony of concern Greene twisted
around in his seat.

"Oh, Lord!" he groaned. "I crowed too soon! That's the petrol
tank--bullet hole! It'll leak out, and we can't stop the leak!"

"If you went down right away, would it all get out before you reached
the ground?"

"No, but they'll catch us if we go down here. Can't do that."

"It's the only chance!" said Frank. "Isn't it?"

"You're right. I'll take it. Good boy! You don't mind the risk?"

"No!" said Frank.

Then they were rushing down. It was a desperate venture. Greene pointed
for a field, but in the darkness the risk of capture by the Germans was
the least that they faced.

Greene had cut out his engine; there was too much danger of an
explosion, with the leaking petrol, to allow the spark to continue. He
had to volplane down this time, not as a quick way of descending, but as
the only means of preventing a disastrous fall. Even in broad daylight
there is always risk in landing with a dead motor. Here, in the darkness
and with unknown country below, the risk was multiplied a hundred times.

All that Greene knew with any certainty was that he was over country
broken up into fields. The fences were numerous, there were ditches,
too, and obstructions of all sorts. The larger ones he could see readily
enough, when he got close; it was the smaller ones that threatened the
real danger.

But if the danger was great, Greene was a master of his craft. He
swooped downward. Then, when he was scarcely a hundred feet up, he
caught the machine with a fine show of skill and held it, for a moment,
on an even keel.

"We'll chance it in the next field," he called. "Can't stay up any
further. Here goes!"

Down, down, they went. Then they were down, bumping along. But the
element of luck that, despite all his skill, Greene had to have, favored
him. The field was smooth and the monoplane came to rest safely. In an
instant both were out, Greene first, since Frank, having to free himself
from his straps, was delayed.

"Quick! The small flashlight!" called the flyer. "Here, give it to me!
If we're to save any essence we've got to be quick!"

He took the light. But a quick look over the tank failed to show a
spurting stream of gasoline.

"By Jove! Wonder if I could have been mistaken? Perhaps it was something
else they hit!" cried Greene. But then he groaned. As he unscrewed the
cap of the tank and peered in, he saw that it was bone dry.

CHAPTER XIII

A DANGEROUS ERRAND

For a moment Greene was speechless with despair. Fate had tricked him,
it seemed, after he had done his best--and a better best than most men
could even have attempted. Then he grinned.

"We'll have to hoof it," he said. "A good twelve miles, too! If we were
champions at cross-country work it would take us the best part of two
hours. And it's so long since I've used my legs that I don't know how
long I'll be."

"There's one chance," said Frank. "I remember that I saw a little inn on
the road the Germans took this afternoon. We're not so very far from
that now. These little inns along the roads in France all have petrol
for motorists who run short. If I went there I might get some."

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