The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line Part 12

"Don't trust him too far, Rod, please; really, I hardly like the look of his eye."

"That's all right," laughed Rod, unconcernedly, "Oscar can't help his looks; but he knows enough to sit tight sometimes, and this is one of them."

Rod moved his machine far enough away from the seated man to prevent any possibility of the other playing him any treacherous trick. Then he got himself ready to mount.

Even as he started off, holding the weapon still in his right hand so as to be in a position to use it on Oscar, he had a glimpse of the fellow tumbling backward; and at the same instant his voice rang out in loud shouts. Perhaps he was calling to his comrades, hoping to hasten their arrival so that they might yet cut off the flight of the last boy, who evidently had on his person the paper they were after.

So Rod pa.s.sed down the road, with the late prisoner still whooping it up in the rear. Taking a fleeting look behind him, Rod could see that Oscar had now managed to scramble to his feet, doubtless deeming the danger point pa.s.sed. He was wildly accentuating his extravagant gestures by renewed shouting; and Rod even imagined he could catch some movement further back, as though those who were being summoned might be hurrying to the spot.

Well, let them come. He and his two comrades could afford to laugh, because the game had turned so nicely in their favor after all. And then they were ahead one bulky revolver in the bargain.

Rod was at first tempted to toss this weapon away, but on second thoughts concluded to retain it for the present. That wily schemer Jules Baggott might have yet another ambuscade prepared for them a little further on, and such a tool was apt to come in handy in case of a surprise.

Although no mention has been made of the fact, because other stirring events continued to face the boys, they knew that they must be steadily drawing nearer the scene of warfare, because the roaring of big guns became more and more insistent with every mile they covered.

It would not surprise Rod in the least should they come in sight of some spirited action at almost any time now. Realizing that it was his duty to be in the van at such a critical juncture, so as to occupy a position to decide on their course of action, he gave the signal so well known to the others, and which meant that they were to hold up.

They were several miles away from the spot where Oscar had been left in the lurch, so no danger hung over their heads from that source. Rod soon explained just why he had called the temporary halt; and then once more the journey was resumed, this time in their regular order, with Hanky Panky bringing up the rear.

Rod knew they must be drawing near the bank of the Marne, which river flowing from the east empties into the Seine. He had been given to understand that it was along the banks of this river that the vast German host had retreated after their bold plan for taking Paris had been frustrated, and their flanks were threatened by the Allied forces.

Looking ahead when there came a more than usually fierce outburst of cannonading, he believed he could see where the battle was progressing, though the distance was still too great to make out which side manned the guns that were being fired. It was just then that in turning a bend of the road he suddenly came upon a most interesting sight, though at the same time it struck his soul with a feeling akin to awe, and sent a shiver through his frame.

Evidently a field hospital had been established in a spot where it was out of range of the German guns beyond. He saw numerous shelters of canvas, with busy surgeons and attendants, both men and women nurses.

Along the roads, and across the level fields were hurrying ambulances and vans of every description, each bearing its load of wounded picked up along the front.

Rod threw up his hand. It was the signal that he was about to stop, and wanted to let his chums know so that they might be prepared to follow suit.

A few seconds later and they were at his side, gaping at the strange picture now spread before them. Josh was going to have his dearest wish realized, for they had undoubtedly now reached the battle line, and could see some of the desperate charges and counter-charges attempted on both sides.

The Germans had evidently turned at bay in their great retreat, and were seeking to hold back the pursuit of the furious French, whose ardor was apt to carry them to desperate attempts to break that solid line of green-gray.

Hanky Panky was almost holding his breath. He did not possess the same disposition that Josh had, and all this dreadful suffering was apt to fill him with horror. Still, he had a boy's ordinary share of curiosity, and might even be morbid enough to run so as to see an injured man in a railway accident, even if he came near fainting immediately afterwards.

"It's a French field hospital, isn't it, Rod?" asked Josh.

"There's no mistaking the tri-color flag that waves near the one with the Red Cross," replied the other, without the least hesitation.

"Oh! what a pity we lost our field gla.s.ses," continued Josh, disconsolately. "We could never have such a splendid chance again to watch the play of a real battle like that going on over there; and it's a bit too far for the naked eye to get the full benefit of it all. I'd give everything I own for binoculars right now. Rod, don't you think we might push on a little nearer the firing line?"

Rod shook his head in the negative.

"The chances are we'd be rounded up in a hurry, and forced to turn back," he told the eager comrade. "As it is I'm surprised we've been able to get as close as we have right now. It's a part of our luck, I guess. But I was thinking that if we chose to go over to the field hospital perhaps after we'd made friends with some of the doctors and attendants, helped a little it might be, we'd find a chance to borrow a pair of binoculars from some one."

"Bully for you, Rod; that sounds good to me!" exclaimed Josh; while Hanky Panky gave a little gasp, and was heard to say almost helplessly:

"Oh! my stars, do we have to run smack into that hospital business, when often the sight of blood gives me the creeps, and makes my knees wobble?"

"You can squat down right here, and stay if you want to, Hanky Panky,"

volunteered Josh; whereat the other seemed to make a swift mental calculation, after which he shut his teeth firmly together, and went on to say resolutely:

"I'm game if you both are; besides, something might happen to me here, if that miserable Jules and his crowd came along the road back of us.

Yes, I'll go," but it could easily be seen that Hanky Panky was not taking any great pleasure in the outlook.

They could use their machines for a short distance along the road; then it became necessary for them to dismount, break down a fence, and trundle the motorcycles across a field to where the temporary hospital had been established, in touch with the battle lines.

Motor vehicles were coming and going at speedy intervals. Rod noticed that they all used another road, which evidently must be the direct course to Paris, where the wounded heroes were being hurried after their injuries had received first care; because that is usually all a field hospital is intended to accomplish, staunching the flow of blood, and in other ways holding the spark of life until operations can be attempted further removed from the scene of action.

Every one inside the limits of the place seemed to be desperately busy.

Men were rushing this way and that with stretchers, carrying wounded soldiers back and forth. Vehicles were coming and going, and these seemed of all descriptions, from the customary ambulance to big lorries run with a motor; and all of them bore the sign of the Red Cross on their sides, in order to protect them as much as possible from the fire of the enemy.

It was in this manner therefore that the three Motorcycle Boys found themselves entering a new phase of their extraordinary adventures, and one that would doubtless never be forgotten, even when they found themselves once again safe in their distant homes.

CHAPTER XIV.

WHERE THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE RAGED.

"Look, an aeroplane coming this way!" exclaimed Hanky Panky, pointing upwards.

"If you glance off yonder," added Josh, "you'll see more than one of the same. They're hanging over the battle lines, and I guess sending signals back to tell what the observer notes from his perch away up aloft."

"Just what they're doing, Josh," Rod went on to say, as he stopped for a brief time to take a look in the direction indicated.

In fact, they could make out as many as half a dozen of the fliers, some darting about as swift as swallows on the wing, others more stationary, and evidently with the operators busily engaged transmitting signals.

"There, see that one dropping something white!" cried Hanky Panky; "chances are he's giving the gunners on his side a tip, so they can get the range of the German battery, and put it out of action with a volley."

"And there's going to be something doing pretty soon, or I miss my guess," added Josh, excitedly; "because there comes a pair of those Taube machines bent on giving the French ones battle. Rod, we're going to watch a fight in the sky, don't you see? Whee! but this _is_ the life, take it from me. I never dreamed I'd be so lucky as to be right on the lines when a big battle was taking place."

The pair of Taube machines came swiftly along to engage the rival aeroplanes that had been making so free with the secrets of the German defences. Evidently the aviators had been ordered to put a stop to the operations of the French pilots, no matter at what cost to themselves.

"They're shooting at each other now!" cried Josh; "you can see the puffs of smoke break out every second; and it's different from the bursting of shrapnel sh.e.l.ls all around them."

"Gee! whiz! but this is awfully exciting!" gasped Hanky Panky, stretching his neck still more in order to follow the swift evolutions of the rival air machines; "what if one of them has the hard luck to get his motor smashed by a ball; or his gasoline tank exploded?"

"That'd be a bad thing for the men in the aeroplane, I should say!" Josh informed him. "They must be all of half a mile high, and a fall would flatten a poor chump out like a pancake."

"There's one of the Germans turning tail right now and running away!"

called out Hanky Panky; "and the other--why, see how queer that machine is acting, will you? It keeps turning around like a corkscrew, and seems to be dropping all the while."

"A good reason, too," snapped Josh. "French guns proved superior to the Kaiser's, for they did some damage. That Taube is falling! Only for the skill of the two men aboard it'd be coming down right now like the stick of a spent rocket, or a meteor aiming to strike the earth."

All of them watched the erratic course of the disabled aeroplane with the keenest interest. Indeed, the valiant pilot certainly deserved a great deal of praise for the way in which he manipulated his charge. At the same time the Taube was going to strike the earth with a severe blow.

"I wouldn't like to be aboard that poor craft, let me tell you," said Hanky Panky, as it neared the earth, not far back of the French front; "the people in it are going to get broken arms or legs, and the machine will be smashed in pieces."