Air Service Boys Flying for Victory; Or, Bombing the Last German Stronghold
"I can see our boomer now, Tom!" Jack cried, as if he had been a little
afraid that something had happened while they were absent, and that they
would find the airplane missing.
"You want to be mighty careful of that stuff," his chum warned him, as
Jack stumbled over some unnoticed object, and only retained his balance
by a supreme effort.
"That's a fact," mumbled the other. "Especially as there's no more where
this lot came from. I attended to that, all right. But here we are, and
now to get the holes plugged up."
"At last my time to make use of that little outfit has arrived!" Tom
exclaimed. "I've carried it for months, thinking I'd need it badly some
day or other. Well, that time is on us, and this repays me for all my
trouble. Set that pail down, and be ready to lend a hand, Jack."
He fumbled in a pocket of the body of the plane, producing a small roll,
which, upon being opened, disclosed several plugs of soft wood, such as
might easily swell if moistened. There was also some wax, the kind fruit
growers use in grafting new scions on old trees.
Tom carefully examined one of the holes in order to learn its exact
dimensions.
"Just as I expected, it's perfectly round in shape, which makes it
easier to plug up," he announced, pleased with his discovery.
A minute later he had fitted one of the wooden pegs in tightly. Then he
used the wax, which was just hard enough for his purpose.
"That one is finished, and I think it will hold fairly well," he
remarked, somewhat to the surprise, as well as delight, of his
companion, who had anticipated that it would take much longer.
"You're a sure-enough wizard, all right, Tom," was his gratified
comment. "Why, you're getting things put through in a jiffy. But I hope
there isn't any danger of the petrol acting on the wax, and causing a
quick leak."
"I've tested it, and feel certain it will hold for an hour or so,
anyhow, Jack. And by then we ought to be back in camp."
"Will, if we have any luck at all," asserted Jack.
"Now I'll get busy on the other hole," continued Tom. "Though that isn't
so important, as it's at the top of the reservoir. Still, it might be
just as well to close it up in order to avoid waste. Besides, there's
always danger of an explosion if your tank sprinkles this deadly stuff
around."
Jack took occasion to step aside to where he could look up between the
trees and glimpse the dimly seen chateau, knowing now just where to look
for it. When he came back he had information to impart that he thought
would please Tom.
"Still a blaze up there, Tom, showing that the conference isn't over
yet."
Presently Tom straightened up.
"That is all done," he announced, in a satisfied tone. "And done well in
the bargain. Now bring along your gas, and be careful how you pour it
in. By good luck I've got a funnel that can be used. I'll hold it while
you start things going, Jack. Easy now, no hurry; every drop is precious
remember!"
The contents of the little pail was presently successfully transferred
into the reservoir which Tom had so adroitly mended after its rough
treatment at the hands of the Huns who worked the "Archies," or
anti-aircraft guns.
Tom gave a sigh of relief when that part of the proceeding was finished.
He had entertained a little fear that Jack, in his haste to get things
over with, might spill the precious fluid on which so much depended.
Afterwards Tom examined for himself, and was satisfied.
"Not a sign of a leak yet, and there isn't going to be either," he told
his companion, not exultantly, but nevertheless with confidence that a
belief in the staying qualities of his own work justified.
"Now we can get going on the second part of our programme," Jack
returned, as he once more cast a steady look toward the height on which
the chateau stood.
"No need of staying here another minute, Jack. Nobody knows just what's
going on over there, or how long those visitors mean to stay."
"All the same," the other air service boy mentioned, as if casually,
"General von Berthold is giving his guests a regular jolly time of it.
In these days of war I reckon the Huns are missing pretty much all their
favorite drinks, and when they do strike a cellar full--and I guess they
have it here--it's like drawing teeth to pry them loose. Listen, don't
you hear them at it now?"
Indeed, it would have been impossible for any one with ordinary hearing,
when within half a mile of the chateau, not to have heard what Jack
referred to. Some one was singing at the top of his voice, and a heavy
voice he had in the bargain. He kept time with the rhythm of his song by
repeated poundings on a table with what might have been a stein.
"Well, what nerve!" ejaculated Jack. "It's the _Watch on the Rhine_ he's
trolling, as sure as you live!"
"And with the whole bunch joining in the chorus in the bargain," added
Tom, as the burst of singing suddenly grew stronger in volume. "They
utterly refuse to believe they're whipped flat, even with the Americans
ready to step over into Germany and mop 'em up all the way to Berlin."
"Huh!" snorted Jack disdainfully, "we'll soon be the ones keeping watch
on the Rhine, see if we'll not. Only sillies with their wits
flabbergasted by pride would shut their eyes to the handwriting on the
wall. But I'm not sorry, for if they keep on enjoying themselves in that
way we'll find it an easy job to roam all over the old shack, looking
for Helene."
They were walking briskly along while exchanging these remarks in
guarded tones. Greatly to their satisfaction they met no one while on
the road. They had both wondered whether General von Berthold did not
have a bodyguard camped somewhere near his headquarters, some of whom
were likely to be moving about; though, to be sure, the hour was late
for that sort of thing.
When they arrived at the scene of their previous escapade it was to find
that one of the military chauffeurs had returned, and was even then
taking a look at the engine of his car, for he struck several matches,
and was thrusting his head down close to the machinery.
They halted to watch. A minute afterwards he tidied things up again, and
Jack, hearing his loud yawn, decided he could not have discovered that
some one had been meddling with his petrol supply.
Then the soldier vanished inside his big car, as though to find a
comfortable seat, if his masters chose to linger an hour longer in
celebrating with General von Berthold.
Tom led the way around, now approaching the building from an angle where
they would be screened from the observation of the driver, did he chance
to have his eyes open. They also took care to be ready to duck and lie
low, in case the other chauffeur came from the back of the chateau.
But nothing happened to endanger them, and presently they were seeking
a means of entering the castle. This proved the easiest thing possible,
for there were no locks or bars attached to the door they tried. Once
this barrier had been passed, they found themselves in a great hall,
just such as Jack had always believed, from his reading, must be
connected with every such old-time castle.
A light burned low. It was in itself a quaint lamp, and at another time
the boys might have found themselves very much interested in it as a
relic of times long since past.
Of course there could be no system of modern lighting in use at such an
isolated habitation. Besides, electricity would have seemed sadly out of
place in connection with so much that belonged to bygone days.
The tall lamp on the newel post at the foot of the broad stairway gave
enough light to show one where to walk; and just then the two prowlers
asked for nothing more.
Over to the right lay the wing that had not suffered from the work of
the Hun despoiler. It was there the German general entertained his
associates, discussing business until a late hour; and then giving
themselves up to a little social enjoyment, which evidently became so
pleasant that it was hard to break away.
The boys decided that since this wing was the only decent part of the
building remaining, they were apt to find the object of their search in
one of the many rooms it contained.
Having no guide to assist them, they must make a thorough search,
neglecting no possible room where the little girl might be sleeping.
Of course their dodging about the corridors would be accompanied by more
or less danger of discovery. There must be attendants moving about, for
the Hun general would not inhabit this chateau unless he could have
subordinates at his beck and call.
Once let any of these see strangers moving about with the air of
spies--well, Jack imagined it would be nip and tuck with them as to
whether they would be shot down like rats, get away by a close shave, or
fall into the hands of the Huns, which last, he felt, would be the very
worst fate that could befall them.
"It's upstairs for us, Jack." And with these words Tom led the way,
headed for the upper floors of the chateau, even as a door opened and
they heard a wild gust of uproarious chorus echo along the corridor
leading to the dining hall in the right wing.
CHAPTER XXII
INVADING THE TIGER'S DEN
TOM, just as soon as they had entered the great hall, had fixed his eyes
on several old-time figures that stood in niches, each representing some
period of the history of early France and showing the type of armor worn
by the fighting knights of those days.
"Hide behind that knight there! Quick, Jack!" he now hissed into the ear
of his comrade.
Jack understood.
As quick as a flash both of the air service boys shot toward their
separate goals. Shuffling footsteps sounded that told of some one
coming; but thanks to the swiftness of their movements the boys managed
to conceal themselves in time.
Peeping out from behind the coats of chained mail that screened them
Jack and Tom fastened their eyes on the advancing figure. Just as they
expected, it proved to be a soldier who had the task of serving while
the general was celebrating with his friends and fellow officers.
He was carrying a tray on which were several empty bottles, and it could
be easily guessed that the soldier had been sent for a further supply of
wine from the cellar below.
They could hear him mumbling to himself, as though not very happy,
despite his opportunities to tilt the bottles up and drain the last drop
left in each. This he was doing now as the boys watched, but continuing
to mutter.
Then they saw him draw his sleeve across his face, and when he took it
down to the astonishment of the watchers there were streaks of blood
marking both cheeks and nose. Evidently General von Berthold was
considerable of a bully and tyrant when in his cups, even as he may have
been a severe martinet when on duty.
Jack ground his teeth at seeing this exhibition of pettiness on the part
of the general. He had heard more than once that German officers, from
sub-lieutenants upward, were terribly severe with their men, treating
them brutally, and acting as though they were themselves of a superior
class; but this was the first time he had actually come in contact with
anything of the kind.
"What fools!" Jack muttered to himself. "Why can't they take a lesson
from Russia, where the people have risen and put ever so many of their
former officers to death. And Russian commanders were gentle beside
these domineering brutes. But they'll get their dose some day before
long, that's as sure as fate. And poor little Helene!" Jack's heart was
heavy as he thought of his little protege's sister.
The man picked up his tray again and went stumbling along the hall,
still muttering, then chuckling half hysterically, as though some
pleasant thought had flashed across his mind. Jack imagined he must be