Our Pilots in the Air Part 21

"Stay with me, Andra," she murmured. "I may faint. I don't want to say! Is he alive? Oh, Andra; does he live?"

Fully alive to the peculiar exigencies of the situation, and deeply sympathizing with Avella, Andra clung to and supported her sister until both were themselves again. Thereafter they watched, helped when they could, and as a rule kept as quiet as mice. It was really a ticklish situation for two young girls, both among the elite of official society in Washington, though transferred of their own volition to strange scenes and duties in this foreign land. Sisterly always, they now clung together more than usual.

"Is -- is poor Buck dead?" asked Stanley, gaining strength with each word. "He left us to raid some more Boches and -- and get help."

"The young man is all right." This from the surgeon who had just finished his examination. "He will pull through with good nursing.

It's a bullet wound between the ribs and I f ear, although I'm not certain yet, that in pa.s.sing it pierced the lungs. It has gone out at his back, near the shoulder, and that's a good thing. Leaves a clean Wound."

By degrees Buck was brought to, revived by a tonic, braced up by a subtle injection of some kind, after which his wound was carefully, thoroughly, and scientifically dressed.

Laying back after this, the first person on whom his sleepy eyes opened was Stanley, now raised on one elbow, so strong had he already grown, regarding Bangs much as one might look at some one supposed to be dead, but returned to life.

"h.e.l.lo, Buck!" Stanley actually tried to sit up in bed. "When we saw you put out up in them clouds, I sure thought you were a goner!"

Buck weakly shook his bead, but was restrained by the nurse from trying to talk. "No use!" he whispered wearily. Then his eyes sought that sweet girl again . She was still looking at him. He gave a sigh of satisfaction and almost immediately fell asleep.

All at once Stanley seemed to remember what he had come through a flying death for. He cursed his forgetfulness, then said aloud:

"I want to see Captain Byers. It -- it's important. Please send for him."

But Byers, already alert, was stepping close and; saying:

"If it is important, go ahead. But if it can wait --"

"But -- it can't wait, Captain," pleaded Stanley. "They sent me 'cause they couldn't come. All our planes were bombed from overhead. Had to use Fritzy's little old Fokker after we got him and his machine.

Believe me, they're a tight place, and there's two women with 'em, one of them an American girl from Chicago; t'other a good old Belgian."

"Go ahead, my man," urged Byers.

Thereupon Stanley, refreshed by a mug of real Red Cross French wine, proceeded to relate a succinctly as he could all that the reader now knows Irwin, and Bangs, so far as Stanley had known. Also their varied adventures after following the defeated Hun down amid the ruins of the old baronial chateau.

"Believe me, sir, they are in bad shape," continued Stanley earnestly.

"Both them chaps are clean knocked out for the time being, though I know they will be able to travel by the time we get back there."

"You say there are women there, too?"

"Yes, sir; two of 'em. One is sister to the wife of the Belgian baron who owns the whole chateau and estate. They got a permit somehow and came through the lines; but in view of recent troubles around there they don't know how to get back. "I'm sure sorry for them."

"What did they go there for, knowing the Germans controlled all that territory? Had they no better sense?"

"So far as I could understand, they went in the first place for some important papers hid away there, and which the Boches don't know of."

"Private papers or papers pertaining to the, war?"

"Don't know, sir. All I know is that they said, they had left safe and were to bring them back if they ever do got back."

Of course the surrounding group were listening. Among these was a runty, pockmarked, weasel-eyed little chap who went by the name of Pete, and whom was not much thought of, being considered by those who knew him best to be more than half German by blood. Be this as it may, he now began to edge outward from the group and gradually gravitated towards a side door.

However, he was already watched, and by no less a one than Byers'

orderly. Ever since the escape of Hans, every one suspected of German connections had been under secret but thorough espionage. When Pete went out at one door the orderly emerged at the other in time to see Pete making for the observation post.

"What can the fool want there?" wonder the orderly. In less than a minute he was satisfied for, drawing from his pocket a peculiar flare Pete lighted and sent it up, where it shivered into different colored flashes, doubtless some kind of cheap signal to warn his countrymen that some big was up. Perhaps also a signal for some one to meet Pete somewhere. But the orderly had even less patience than discretion. In two more minutes he had Pete under arrest and bound for the guard house. One of the mechanics aided the orderly and despite Pete's protests, he was shut up for the night.

When Byers was told of the matter he first stared, then frowned, and finally laughed, saying:

"I forgot that you had only been on duty here for a few days. When I am detained here late, I have Pete or some of the hands send up a certain kind of flare right down to where I live. That warns 'em I won't be back before breakfast. Now trot right back now and let Pete out, sending him to me. He knows this neighborhood where Blaine and Erwin are now. We may need him -and need him bad."

Much crestfallen, the orderly obeyed, finding Pete fast asleep in a corner, nor much put out when he found what a mistake had been made.

When they reached the gravelly levels near the hangars, two of the largest biplanes in the aerodrome were already drawn up ready. In each of these planes an experienced pilot was in the act of taking his seat.

One of these pilots was Byers himself.

"Come here, you, Pete!" called the captain, half laughing at Pete's perplexed face. "You in here with me -- see?"

"You take me to Boche 'stead of black-hole? I no do harm anyone."

Pete spoke in a whining, ingratiating tone, but Byers only laughed, saying:

"You are right, Pete. A mistake was made." Then turning to Stanley, who had insisted on coming for final admonitions, "This is my friend Pete, once servant of Baron Savahl. That I know. He is small and light. He will guide us with the a.s.sistance that you, Stanley, have given me. Brodno also is particularly well acquainted with that part of the Belgian frontier. Get in, Pete!"

"But, Captain, how can we spare you?" This from Stanley anxiously.

"You will have to spare me. Sergeant Anson is handy, too. In the early morning, if you see signs of our return, it would be well to send out a few scouts. But we shall return. Those plans are too important to King Albert of Belgium and our Allies here to risk any more uncertainties than can be avoided."

"Are you sure of what you speak? I thought, from what those women said, that they were private papers."

"Private they may be, in a sense. But they are important enough to all of us, when you consider how vital they are to certain knowledge necessary for our leaders to have in regard to a further offensive which I believe is contemplated. Now back to bed, boy. You've warned us and we who are well will do all that is needful."

About this time Brodno, waiting impatiently, gave a signal and the plane, propelled along gravel by mechanics, soon rose lightly in the air. Byers, having hauled Pete in, followed suit, waving good-night to Senator Walsen and the ladies. In another minute both big biplanes were lost to sight, so swiftly did they vanish in a easterly course under the starlit heavens, shimmer of gray haze hugging the lower just above the earth.

CHAPTER XV

MAKING READY FOR ANOTHER FORWARD DRIVE

After Stanley's sudden departure from the ruined chateau, the two boys fretted ineffectually. Stanley was an observer, not a real pilot; he might get into trouble; so worried first one and then the other.

"It seems to me, gentlemen," began Miss Daskam, "that instead of fretting over this you better remain quiet and thus regain your strength the sooner. We may need it yet."

"Allons, madame," began Brenda, speaking to the girl, yet carefully refraining from looking at either of the boys, "we cannot tell what time the Boches may break in on us. After that young man went up in the German plane, I am sure I heard the sound of far-away explosions.

We are between the lines, yet off to one side, where the enemy are fond of raiding. It was so a year ago when some of us still made our home in or close to the chateau. We didn't mind the raiding. All they did was to rob us of what little stock we had left. But now, since they began the bombing that has finally ruined the Baron's home, nothing and no one is safe. Ah -- what is that?"

But it was nothing much; yet it only typified the general nervousness of the situation. Distant firing along the course they figured that Stanley would take tended to make even the boys uncertain as to whether he would get home or not.

"Anyhow, we may as well make up our minds to have to stick it out here at least until tomorrow, or more likely tomorrow night. If they come they must come in force, or we will never be able to make a get-away."