Army Boys in the French Trenches

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"_Donnerwetter!_" he growled. "Yankee pigs! It must be that they are so
stupid that they do not know anything to tell. What do you think, Herr
Lieutenant?" turning to one of his officers.

"I think it more likely that they are just obstinate, sir, like those
cursed English," replied the officer addressed. "But perhaps a few
months in a prison camp will incline them to answer more quickly when a
German speaks to them." This was accompanied by a cruel smile, whose
significance was hot lost on the Americans. The captain glared at them,
but as they did not seem to weaken perceptibly, even under his high
displeasure, he grumbled finally:

"Well, take them away, and we'll see how they act after a taste of
prison life." As their guards were about to take them from the room, he
continued, menacingly: "Remember, you Yankees, that the sooner you tell
me what I want to know, the easier it will be for you. And in the end
we'll make you talk. It is not well to oppose Germany's will too far."

But as the prisoners did not appear greatly frightened by these threats,
the commander at last ordered the sergeant in charge to take the
prisoners away, and turned again to his desk.

In spite of the critical situation in which they found themselves, Bart
could not resist a surreptitious wink at his companions as they passed
through the doorway, which was returned in kind by his graceless
companions. But, although they had had the satisfaction of balking the
German officers, they were not long in appreciating the discomforts of
their present situation. When they reached the temporary prison camp,
they were herded into a large tent, already overcrowded with French,
English, and a few American prisoners. Soon after their arrival food was
served out, although it hardly seemed worthy of the name. Watery soup,
made by boiling turnips in water, and a small chunk of some tasteless
substance supposed to be bread, constituted the meal. The boys, fresh
from the wholesome and abundant food furnished by Uncle Sam, found it
absolutely uneatable, and gave away their portions to some of the other
prisoners, who appeared glad to get it.

"Wait until you've been here a few days," said one lanky Englishman,
with a ghastly smile, "you'll get so thoroughly famished that you'll be
able to go even that stuff," and he made a wry face.

"Perhaps so, if we can't find some way to get out," said Frank.

"Not as easy as it sounds," said the Englishman. "Although it has been
done, of course. But a lot more have been shot trying it than have ever
got away."

"Might as well get shot as die of starvation," remarked Tom.

This opinion evidently appealed to Tom's comrades, who looked
significantly at him. From that look each knew that the others were
ready to risk everything to gain their freedom. The Englishman, however,
seemed unconvinced, and presently left them.

As night came on, they cast about for some place to sleep, but met with
little success. The only place to lie was on the ground, but by that
time the four friends were so tired that sleep, even under any hardship,
was desirable. They finally settled down in a corner that appeared a
little less crowded than the rest. However, before going to sleep they
tried to formulate some plan of escape, but with indifferent success.

"About all we can do," said Bart finally, "is to hold ourselves in
readiness to make use of the first chance of escape that comes along.
And if these Germans are all as stupid as the ones we've seen so far, it
oughtn't to be very difficult."

"Well, when the chance comes, we won't let any grass grow under our
feet, that's certain," said Frank. "But now, I'm dog-tired, and I'm
going to see if I can't get a little sleep. And what's more, I'd advise
you fellows to do the same."

"He who sleeps, dines," quoted Tom, with a somewhat rueful grin. "I hope
there's more in that old saying than there is in most of them."

"Right you are," said Bart, "but something seems to tell me I'm going to
be hungry in the morning, just the same."

Bart was right. After a restless night, the boys woke with ravenous
appetites, and managed to eat most of the unpalatable fare that was
passed around. Not long after this they saw the sergeant who had had
charge of them the previous day picking his way through the crowd,
evidently looking for some particular object. At last he caught sight of
the Americans, and immediately headed toward them.

"Come," he commanded, roughly, in his halting English. "Orders have come
for your removal."

"Where to?" inquired Frank. "Silence! Do as you are told, and ask no
questions!" commanded the German.

"For two cents I'd jump on him and choke the dog's life out of him!"
muttered Tom, but his friends laid restraining hands on him.

"Nothing doing, Tom," warned Billy. "We'd be playing against stacked
cards in a game like that. Take it easy now, and maybe our chance will
come later."

Meanwhile the sergeant had started off, and the friends had no choice
but to follow him. He led them out of the tent, where a squad of
soldiers was lined up. At a nod from the sergeant, these surrounded the
boys, and at a curt word of command they all started off.

They were soon outside the confines of the camp, and marching along what
had once been a perfect road, but was now badly broken up by the
combined effects of shellfire and heavy trucking. The soldiers talked
among themselves in low gutturals, and the boys, by piecing together
words that they caught here and there, gathered that they were being
taken to some higher official for further questioning.

"You see," said Billy, "they know we were inside their lines a
considerable time before they caught us, and so they are paying
particular attention to us. I guess they think we may know more than
we've told them so far." This with a wink at his friends.

"We sure have told them a lot," put in Bart, grinning. "And, just to be
perfectly fair, I suggest that we tell the next Boche who questions us
just as much as we told the last one."

"Fair enough," agreed Tom. "No favoritism has always been my motto."

"No talking among the prisoners," commanded the sergeant, threateningly,
and the four friends, having said about all they wanted to say, anyway,
relapsed into silence.

For several miles the little group plodded along, often meeting
detachments of German infantry, who scowled sullenly at the Americans as
they passed.

The boys were far from happy, in spite of the light-hearted attitude
they presented to their captors. They all knew that if they could not
effect an escape their chance for life was small, as, on account of
their having been inside the German lines so long before being captured,
the Huns would seize the opportunity of calling them spies, and mete out
the quick end that is accorded to such. They were walking along, each
one immersed in his own gloomy thoughts, when suddenly a sound from
above caused them to look quickly up toward the blue sky.

What they saw caused their hearts to beat faster and hope to spring up
again in their breasts. For, skilled as they were in such matters, they
recognized the airplane up above, whose roaring exhaust had first
attracted their attention, as one of the Allied type.

It was coming toward them at high speed, flying low, and as it rapidly
neared them the four friends, forgetting their German captors, waved
their hands wildly to the pilot, whom they could see, as the aeroplane
came closer, peering down over the side of the body. The Germans, on
their part, were so terrified by the approach of this huge enemy
machine, that they seemed to forget all about their prisoners, and in
fact about everything except their individual safety. With wild yells of
terror they scattered this way and that, all except the sergeant. He,
seeing his men running in every direction, snarled out a curse, and
whipped out his automatic pistol.

"I'll do for you Yankees, anyway, he hissed," and leveled the pistol at
them. But even as his finger trembled on the trigger, Frank's fist, with
the force of a sledgehammer, came with a crashing impact against the
point of the German's jaw, and the Hun went down, his pistol exploding
harmlessly toward the sky. Frank, with the light of battle in his eye,
seized the fallen man's weapon and looked around for the other Germans.
But by this time they had all gotten out of effective pistol range, and
after emptying the weapon in the direction of the fleeing figures, Frank
and the others turned their attention to the aeroplane, which by now was
manoeuvring for a landing.

The airship came down in great spirals, and finally took the ground with
hardly a jar, running along a hundred feet or so and then coming to a
halt.

As the boys started running toward it, Tom ejaculated: "Say, fellows, my
eyes may be playing me tricks, but if that isn't Dick Lever at the wheel
you can call me a German!"

"I think it is Dick, myself," agreed Frank. "And if this isn't a case of
the 'friend in need,' I miss my guess."

It was indeed as they thought. The pilot was an old friend of theirs,
but one whom they had not seen for some time. Now, as they raced toward
the airplane, he in turn recognized them, and raised a delirious shout
of joy.

"Tumble into this bus just as fast as you can, fellows," he cried,
"we've got to get out of this mighty quick. You can explain the mystery
of your being here after we get started."

"But can you carry the whole bunch of us?" asked Billy.

"Easily," replied one of the two observers, who had not spoken up to
now. "We've just dropped our load of bombs on a few German supply
depots, and now we're running back light."

"All right, then," said Billy, "in we go!" And, suiting the action to
the word, the four friends swarmed into the airplane, filling the
cramped passenger carrying space to overflowing. Meantime, the Germans,
having found cover, had opened up a brisk rifle fire against the
aeroplane, and bullets began to sing through the framework. One of the
observers leaped to the ground, gave the propeller a vigorous twist, and
as the motor began to roar clambered aboard as the big plane started
over the rough ground, bumping and jolting, but rapidly gaining speed.
The Germans broke from their shelter in pursuit, firing wildly as they
ran, but although some of their shots came close, none came near enough
to do any real damage. In a few seconds, in answer to a quick movement
from Dick Lever, the big bombing machine left the ground, and amid a
parting rain of bullets from the Germans, started to ascend in long,
sweeping spirals.

The friends were about to congratulate themselves on their safe escape,
when suddenly one of the observers, who had been scanning the horizon
closely, pointed behind them, and exclaimed:

"Just as I thought! Those two Boche planes that we saw getting ready to
come after us just after we dropped our last bomb are coming up fast.
Look!"

All twisted about, and saw that it was as the observer had said. High up
in the sky two swift, darting objects were coming in pursuit. The
American machine was built more for carrying capacity than for speed,
and in addition was heavily loaded. Every advantage was with the swift
German machines. Their pilots no doubt realized this, for now they
headed directly for the Americans, descending in a long slant that gave
them tremendous speed.

"All right," said Lever, coolly, "if they're going to come down, it may
be a good idea for us to go up," and, suiting the action to the word, he
elevated the nose of the big plane skyward, and they started to climb
steeply. The American machine was equipped with a tremendously powerful
motor, and this, combined with its great wing spread, enabled it to
climb with great rapidity, in spite of the heavy load it was carrying.
The Germans had not counted on this, and the result was that they
miscalculated their distances, passing beneath the American flyer
instead of above it, as they had intended. They both turned quickly and
started to climb, but by this time the American aviators had trained
their two machine guns on the Germans, and opened fire.

At first this seemed to have little effect, and the Germans ascended
rapidly, while their machine gun operators, although as yet unable to
use their deadly weapons, sent a hail of revolver bullets whistling
through the wings and rigging of the American machine. But now the
concentrated fire from the American machine was beginning to have
effect. One of the German planes hesitated, quivered, and suddenly its
right wing, with its wire stays severed by the machine gun bullets,
crumpled up. The crippled aeroplane staggered wildly, suddenly turned on
its right side, and pitched steeply downward.

The boys in the American airplane gazed at each other with white faces,
but they had little time to devote to thoughts of the fallen, for by now
the remaining German machine was on a level with them, and its machine
gunner opened fire. The Americans, crouching low to avoid the murderous
stream of bullets, returned the fire from both their machine guns, with
a deadliness of purpose and aim for which the German was no match.
Suddenly a tiny flame appeared in the body of the German machine, grew
with lightning rapidity, and in a few seconds one side of the machine
was enveloped in leaping yellow flames.

"Punctured the gas tank!" exulted Lever. "They're done for now."

And he was right. The machine gun fire from both fighting planes died
out, and the boys could see the Germans vainly trying to beat out the
hungry flames. Their efforts were useless, however, and in a few seconds
the German machine, a roaring mass of flame and black smoke, dropped
downward as swiftly as a stone. As it went, the boys saw two figures
hurl themselves out into space, and then everything was hidden in a haze
of billowy smoke.

"That's awful!" exclaimed Tom, drawing in his breath with a great sigh,
while all relaxed from the terrible tension they had been under.

"Awful, yes," said Dick Lever. "But it's only what they would have done
to us if they had been able. Instead of 'live and let live,' it's 'kill
or get killed' in this game."

Frank nodded his head gloomily, but none of the boys felt like talking
then, and sat silent as their pilot got his bearings and then
straightened out swiftly in the direction of the American lines.

With the roar of the motor in their ears and the rush of wind past their
faces, much of the horror of the deadly air battle was swept from their
minds, and they began to enjoy the exhilaration of their first flight.
The distant earth streamed rapidly by, like a swiftly flowing river, and
a wonderful panorama was spread out below them. It was an exceptionally
clear day, and they could see for many miles in every direction. Below
them, groups of gray clad figures, after a glance in the direction of
the soaring monster overhead, broke for cover, or, shaking impotent
fists, trudged stolidly onward, contemptuous of one more danger among
the many that daily surrounded them.

"No prison camp for us this time," exulted Frank, as he looked down at
his enemies.

"We wouldn't have been in a prison camp long," declared Tom. "Those
fellows had picked us out for a firing squad. They were going to get all
they could out of us, and then about six feet of earth would have been
our size."

"I'll bet that sergeant's jaw aches yet from the clip that Frank handed
him," chuckled Billy happily.

"I skinned my knuckles," said Frank, looking at them ruefully.

"Never mind," laughed Bart. "You never hurt them in a better cause."

"We can't be far from the lines now," shouted Frank, in Dick's ear.

"Pretty close," responded the aviator. "We ought to be down fifteen
minutes from now."

And his estimate proved very nearly correct. Soon the boys of the old
Thirty-seventh could recognize the familiar landmarks of their own
encampment, and, with one impulse, they gave three rousing cheers.

CHAPTER XIX

PUTTING ONE OVER

It was a beautiful landing that Dick Lever made at the aviation camp,
his great machine sailing down like a swan and landing so lightly that
it would scarcely have broken a pane of glass.

"Dick, you're a wonder!" exclaimed Frank, as he stepped out of the
machine.

"The way you put it all over the Boche planes shows that," chimed in
Bart with equal enthusiasm.

"I don't wonder they say you're an 'ace,'" added Billy.

"If all aviators had your class, the Hun flyers wouldn't have a chance
on earth--I mean in the sky," said Tom.

"Oh, it's all a matter of practice," said Dick modestly, although it was
plain to be seen that their heartfelt appreciation pleased him. "It's as
easy as running an automobile when you know how. Well, so long, fellows.
I've got to make my report," and with a gay wave of the hand he left
them and made his way to aviation headquarters.

"Say, how does it feel to be a free man once more?" cried Frank
jubilantly, as they sought out their regiment.

"I can't believe yet that it's anything but a dream." replied Bart with
deep feeling, as he looked around at the friendly faces and familiar
surroundings that he had feared for a time he would never see again.

"And look at that flag!" cried Billy as he saw Old Glory flying from one
of the officers' pavilions. Like a flash their hats came off and they
saluted the glorious flag that meant to them everything in life.

They passed the tanks, and Will Stone, who was "grooming his pet,"
looked at them for a moment as though he could not believe his eyes.
Then he rushed toward them and nearly shook their hands off.

"By all that is lucky!" he cried. "I was afraid I was never going to see
you fellows again. Where did you drop from?"

"From the sky," laughed Frank.

"Some little angels, you see," chuckled Billy. Then seeing Stone's
puzzled look he added: "The Huns had got their hooks on us when Dick
Lever came along in his plane, gave them a few little leaden missives,
picked us up and landed us here, right side up with care."

Stone's eyes kindled as he heard their story, and his enthusiasm over
Lever's feat was as great as their own.

"But how did we make out in the big drive?" asked Frank. "We kept hoping
all the time that you fellows would be along and nab us before the
Boches did."

"We've had a big victory," explained Stone. "We put the Hindenburg line
on the blink by that smash at his center, and he's had to draw in his
wings on both sides. It's one of the biggest things that's been done on
the western front, and the Heinies will have a hard time explaining it
in Berlin."

"That's bully!" exclaimed Frank.

"That town you fellows were hiding in didn't come into our general
plan," went on Stone, "and that's the reason you had to fight your way
out all by your lonesome."

"It was some little fight, all right," remarked Tom.

"And we certainly gave those Uhlans a run for their money," laughed
Billy.

"Lucky they didn't get hold of you," said Stone. "It would have been
curtains for the whole bunch. They must have been wild at the lacing you
handed them."

"I guess they were rather peeved," grinned Bart.

"I'm sorry I had to throw away my rifle, though," mourned Tom.

"Tom would find something to grouch about if he were in heaven," laughed
Frank.

They talked for a few minutes longer and then went on, as they were
eager to be once more with their comrades of the old Thirty-seventh.

And what a greeting they had when they walked into their old command!
They were pounded and mauled in wild enthusiasm, for they were prime
favorites in the regiment and had been sadly given up as dead or
captured.

They had to tell again and again the story of their adventures, and it
was only by main force that they tore themselves away from their
rejoicing mates long enough to report themselves to their officers as
present for duty.

Their captain was as delighted as his men at their safe return, although
his satisfaction was expressed in less boisterous fashion. He commended
warmly the gallant fight they had put up with the Uhlans, and he was
visibly startled as his eye glanced over the German report that had been
captured by Frank when it fluttered down into the cellar.

"This must go to headquarters at once!" he exclaimed. "It is a matter of
the utmost importance. You men have deserved the thanks of the army," he
continued, "and I am proud that you are members of my command."

They made their way back to their company with their leader's praise
ringing in their ears and warming their hearts. But they had scarcely
got out of the captain's presence before his chums pounced upon Frank
with the liveliest curiosity.

"How did you keep that paper when the Germans searched you?" asked Tom.

"Where did you hide it?" demanded Billy.

"I never knew you were a sleight of hand performer," added Bart.

"Easy there, fellows," laughed Frank, enjoying their mystification. "It
was the simplest thing in the world. While you fellows were sleeping in
the cellar I just loosened the sole of my shoe and slipped the paper in
between the sole and the upper and nailed the sole up again. The Heinies
didn't get next to it, and that's where I had luck. I'm mighty glad they
didn't, for the cap seems to think there's something in it that's worth
while."

"Foxy stunt," approved Tom.

"Some wise boy!" exclaimed Billy, giving his chum a slap on the shoulder
that made him wince.

"You're all there when it comes to the gray matter, old man," was Bart's
tribute.

A day later, part of their reward came in a week's furlough that was
granted them for "specially gallant conduct," as the order of the day
expressed it. The rest was welcome, for it was the first they had had
since they had landed on French soil, and they had been under a strain
of hard work and harder fighting that had taxed even their strong
vitality to the utmost.

And that week stood out forever in their memory like an oasis in a
desert. They spent it in a little French town miles away from the firing
line and even beyond the sound of the guns. They fished and swam and
loafed and slept as though there was no such thing as war in the world.
No reveille to wake them in the morning, no taps to send them to their
beds at night. For the first time in months they were their own masters,
and they enjoyed their brief liberty to the full.

Yet even here in this "little bit of heaven" as Tom expressed it, they
could not be wholly free from war's reminder.

They were sprawling one day outside their cottage when an officer came
along, gorgeous in epaulets and gold lace.

"See who's coming!" exclaimed Tom peevishly. "Now we'll have to get up
and salute."

"I suppose so," said Billy reluctantly.

"Can't we pretend, we don't see him?" yawned Bart sleepily, clutching at
a straw of hope.

"Not a chance in the world," declared Frank. "He's looking right at us."

They stood up as the officer approached and saluted respectfully. He
returned the salute snappishly and glared at them sternly.

"Get in line there," he commanded. "Smart now. Eyes ahead."

They resented his tone, but obeyed with military promptness.

"Present arms."

They hesitated and looked at each other.

"Present arms," I said.

"If you please, sir," said Bart, "we have no guns."

"I know it," snapped the officer. "Go through the motions."

So without a word they did as directed.

"Shoulder arms."

They did so.

"Forward! March!"

He set off in front with a military stride and they followed.

"I feel like a fool," whispered Bart to Frank.

"Same here," was the reply. "What does he mean by it?"

"Wants to show his authority, I reckon," muttered Bart.

Tom and Billy said nothing, but there were scowls on their faces that
spoke for them.

They had marched for perhaps half a mile, when at a cross roads two men
appeared who were evidently looking for some one. Their eyes lighted up
when they saw the officer and they came straight toward him. He saw them
coming, and throwing his dignity to the wind started to run, but they
were quicker than he and grasped him by the collar.

"Come back to the asylum," one of them growled. "We've had lots of
trouble to find you."

The boys stood rooted to the spot.

"You see," explained one of the men, touching his forehead
significantly, "he's a grocer that's got the military bug. He thinks
he's Napoleon. Come along, Napoleon."

And "Napoleon" meekly obeyed.

CHAPTER XX

SUSPICION

To paint the emotions that chased themselves over the features of the
four boys would have taxed the ability of an artist. For a moment no one
of them cared to look into the eyes of the others.

Tom was the first to act. He grabbed his cap in his hands, kneaded it
into a ball, threw it on the ground and jumped up and down on it.

The others looked at his scowling face and the sight was too much for
them. They threw themselves on the ground in convulsions of laughter.
They howled. They roared. They rolled over and over, until Tom himself
caught the contagion and joined in with the rest. It was a long time
before any one of them was able to speak.

"Stung!" choked Bart, while tears of merriment rolled down his cheeks.

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