The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Part 21

"A s...o...b..ll fight," suggested Jerry, and the others took up the idea as a boon to dispel the monotony of their isolation.

With the lieutenant "umpiring" from the little wireless room of the tractor, Joe and Frank "stood" Jerry and Slim, and from a distance of a hundred feet apart the battle began.

One of Frank's well-aimed missiles caught Slim squarely in the mouth, just as he was calling out some challenging remark, and from the window of his post Lieutenant Mackinson laughingly shouted: "Strike one!"

Slim, spitting and blowing out the icy pastry, gathered all his strength to hurl a ball back at Frank. But he "wound up," as baseball pitchers call that curving swinging of the arm just before the ball is thrown, with such vigor that he lost his balance. His feet went up into the air and he came down ker-plunk! but the s...o...b..ll left his hand with what proved to be unerring aim.

Joe, letting out a howl of laughter at Slim's accident, caught the tightly packed wad of snow right in the ear. He turned his back to the "enemy," and, leaning forward, began pounding the other side of his head to dislodge the snow.

Of a sudden he straightened up, uttering an exclamation of surprise.

"Lieutenant!" he shouted. "Look here!"

The lieutenant jumped out of the tractor, and the others followed him on the run to where Joe and Frank were gazing off down into the opposite valley.

Two, perhaps three, miles away, a winding, twisting line of black against the snow was pushing its way laboriously around the mountain base.

"Germans!" exclaimed Lieutenant Mackinson. "Wait until I get my field gla.s.ses, but do not stand where they might see you with theirs."

From positions within the clump of trees the lads watched the line spread out and slowly but surely forge its way ahead. The lieutenant returned with his gla.s.ses.

"At least ten thousand of them," he announced at last, after gazing down at them for fully a minute. "And n.o.body knows how many more behind. We must notify the camp at once."

He ran back to the tractor, followed by all but Jerry, who remained to observe the enemy's further movements.

In two or three minutes the wireless operator at headquarters signaled back for them to go on with the message.

"About ten thousand enemy troops proceeding through eight inches snow, bound northwest around eastern base of mountain," Lieutenant Mackinson's message ran. "Am observing and will report progress. Any orders?"

In another five minutes the wireless clicked back: "Are any of enemy flanking mountain on south?"

Jerry, who at that moment entered the tractor, informed them that the Germans had divided into two diverging lines, apparently for that very purpose.

There was a considerable pause after this was flashed to headquarters.

Meanwhile Jerry had gone back to his post of observation, accompanied by Frank and Slim.

"How many big guns?" was the next query from the commanding officer of the American forces in the sector.

Joe rushed out to where the other three were standing, and from them returned with the information that already they had counted seven headed toward the north, and five being hauled toward a place where they might round the southern base of the mountain.

This news was sent through s.p.a.ce to the American army; and the lads who were the silent witnesses to what the enemy had intended and fully expected should be a secret movement, waited in silence for further developments.

"Can you get back over the same road with tractor?" was the next message that came, and Lieutenant Mackinson called for the more expert judgment of Frank Hoskins before answering.

"We can try it," said Frank in a rather doubtful tone, "but it's risky business. It will be as much as we can do to follow the road, and we can't hope to see the ruts and b.u.mps. The worst part of it is, though, that the tractor is so heavy it may not hold the road. However, we can try."

The lieutenant repeated the gist of this to headquarters, and the message came back: "Better try."

But by the time this decision was reached the fire in the earthen oven had almost entirely died out, and the engine of the tractor, which had been drawn up to it, had become so cold that they had to build another fire, to get hot water to put into the radiator, before they could get it started.

And then the perilous journey began.

With Frank at the wheel, and running the engine only in low gear, as compression against gaining speed, the lieutenant and Joe trotted ahead, one on either side of the road, to indicate the course of the crude highway.

Jerry and Slim, inside the big truck, were doing their best to hold things in place as they rocked and jolted over the deep ruts and gullies.

It must have been this series of terrible jars that finally splashed grease and oil in on the brake bands. Whatever the cause, it suddenly became apparent at one of the steepest and sharpest turns in the whole route that the brakes were not holding.

"Look out!" Frank shouted to Joe and the lieutenant ahead, as he realized the truck was getting beyond his control. "Better jump!" he advised Jerry and Slim, standing just behind him.

As Lieutenant Mackinson and Joe ran to either side of the road, the tractor slid by them at increasing speed. Slim and Jerry, following Frank's bidding, leaped from the rear and landed unharmed in a snow-bank.

"Run her into the side of the mountain," shouted Lieutenant Mackinson, and that was exactly what Frank was doing. It was the only possible way of saving the tractor from gathering more and more momentum, and, finally beyond all control, leaving the road and hurtling down the steep slope.

With all his strength Frank swung the wheel so as to turn the right side of the car at an angle up the mountain wall that flanked the road. In this position the machine was still traveling along with great force when it struck a thick ab.u.t.ting ledge of rock.

There was a sudden jolt, a sharp crack, and Frank was hurtled forward head first into the snow.

When they had brushed him off and made certain that he was uninjured, except for an awful jarring up, they began an examination of the machine.

The right front wheel had been crushed to splinters, the axle was bent, and the machine was wedged so far under a split edge of the granite as to be, for the time at least, totally useless.

"Better go back to where we were first," Lieutenant Mackinson said at last. "We'll take the pack-set with us, and we can probably advise headquarters of our predicament with that, and also inform them of the progress of the enemy movement."

Wearily they turned about, each man loaded down with the necessities that they had to take with them from the wrecked tractor. It was nearing night when they reached the apex of the mountain again, and their first desire was to see whether the Germans had entirely pa.s.sed around the mountain.

So far as they could see they had!

But the Boches had done more than that. Their heavy guns were being sent around either side of the base of the mountain, each quota being part of a good-sized army. But they were sending another strong detachment up and over the mountain itself!

And the first section of it was less than a mile below, spreading out in such a way that while a part of it would come over the top, other parts would go around either side, and they would be fan-like in shape, forming a virtual comb in the search for any enemies who might be lurking there.

"The pack-set!" ordered the lieutenant. In a very short time it was set up, and Jerry was grinding the crank to generate power while the officer flashed out the headquarters call.

In a moment a message began to come: "J-X. J-X. J-X. J-X."

Lieutenant Mackinson nervously began tapping the key again, but the only reply was the insistent call for J-X, which was the code call for themselves.

"No use," said the young officer at last. "We can catch them, with their stronger range, but we haven't radius enough to send to them."

"Those troops cannot reach here until after dark," said Slim.

"No," Lieutenant Mackinson acknowledged, "but they are in such numbers that we could not hope to keep our ident.i.ty or presence hidden, and they are getting around the mountain quicker than we could get down and beyond their line."

"It looks as though we were hemmed in," said Frank Hoskins in an even tone.

"Yes," agreed Jerry, "and in a tight place."