The Moving Picture Boys on the War Front Part 26

"Well, we'll take a chance," decided Blake.

"That's what!" chimed in Joe.

Being accredited representatives of a certain branch of the army, though non-combatants, the boys were allowed to pa.s.s through the sentry lines, except in certain restricted places. They were given the countersign each night in case they desired to leave their quarters and go about.

But there was a risk in starting on this journey. As non-combatants, if they carried arms and went into the enemy's territory, they were not ent.i.tled to be considered prisoners of war. Of course they could fight for their lives, but not with the same status as could a uniformed soldier. As a matter of fact, they did not wear the regulation uniform, having dark suits better suited to this night excursion than the khaki.

Waiting until it was dark enough for their purpose and taking with them electric flashlights to use in case they got into a hut or some such place where they could not see to search for their films, and having blackened their hands and faces and seen that their weapons were in order, they sallied forth from the home of the humble French couple, many good wishes going with them.

It was a walk of three or four miles from the little village to the place where the sentry had said the dugout lay, and during the first part of the trip the boys talked to each other.

"Do you suppose we'll really find the films there?" ventured Joe.

"It's a slim chance, but one worth taking," said Blake. "Though I can't imagine what Secor and Labenstein, if those two fellows are really here, could want of them."

"Maybe they just picked them up on the chance that they would give away some of the American army secrets," suggested Charlie. "And they would show our boys were drilling, fighting, and all that. Of course some of the things on the films were actually seen by the Germans, but others were not; and I fancy those would be of value to Fritz. That's why they took 'em."

"They couldn't have known we were here taking views," remarked Joe.

"Oh, yes they could!" declared Blake. "Germany's spy system is the best in the world, and lots that goes on in America is known in Germany before half of our own people hear about it. But we'll have to get there before we can find out what is in that dugout, if it's there yet."

"Well, some part of it--maybe a hut or a brush heap--must be there, or the sentry wouldn't have seen men about it," observed Joe. "And now we'd better keep quiet. We're getting too close to talk much."

A little later they pa.s.sed a sentry--not their friend--gave the proper pa.s.sword, and then stood on the edge of No Man's Land.

What would be their fate as they crossed it and ventured on the other side--the side held by the Germans?

"Come on!" whispered Blake softly, and, crouching down to avoid as much as possible being detected in the starlight, the boys went cautiously into the debatable territory.

CHAPTER XXII

CAPTURED

Not without a rather creepy feeling did the three boys start on their mission, the outcome of which could only be guessed. They were taking great risks, and they knew it. But it was not the first time. They had gone into the jungle to get films of wild beasts at the water hole. They had ventured into Earthquake Land where the forces of nature, if not of mankind, were arrayed against them. And they had dared the perils of the deep in getting pictures under the sea.

But these were as nothing compared to the mission on which they were now engaged, for, at any moment, there might go up from the German lines, not half a mile away, a string of lights that would reveal their presence to the ever-watchful snipers and sharp-shooters.

And, more than that, the whole area might suddenly be swept by a hail of bullets from a battery of machine guns. Both sides had these deadly weapons in readiness, and it was well known that Fritz was exceedingly nervous and apt, at times, to let burst a salvo of fire without any real reason.

The fluttering of some armless sleeve on the body of a dead man, the rattle of a loose strand of barbed wire, the movement of a sorely wounded soldier lying out in the open, might draw the German fire. And if the moving picture boys were caught in that they would be hard put to it to escape.

"The only thing to do, when you see a flash of fire, is to drop to the ground and lie as still as you can," Blake had said to his chums before they started out. "Duck your heads down on your arms and don't move. The lampblack will kill any glare from the lights and they may not see us.

So remember, don't move if you see anything like a light. It may be a glare from a discharged rifle, or it may be a rocket or star cl.u.s.ter.

Just lie low, that's the way!"

And so, as they crawled on, in crouching att.i.tudes, over the desolate stretch that lay between them and the place they sought, they made no noise, and kept a sharp watch.

Blake led the way, his hand ready on his pistol, and the other two boys followed his example. Their gas masks were ready at their belts, but these were mainly an added precaution, as it was not likely, unless a general attack was contemplated, that the Germans would produce the chlorine.

Blake had gone a little way down the slope, Joe and Charlie following as closely as was safe, when the leader came to a halt. Watching his dim form, his chums did the same.

"What is it?" whispered Joe, in the softest of voices.

"A figure," answered Blake likewise. "I'm not sure whether it's a dead man or some one like us--trying to discover something. Do you see it?"

Joe looked. He saw a huddled heap which might, some day, have been a man. Now it was but a--heap. As the boys strained their eyes through the darkness they became aware that it was the body of a man--a French soldier who had fallen in the engagement of a few days before, and who had not yet been buried. There were many such--too many on both sides for the health and comfort of the living.

"Pa.s.s to one side," advised Joe. "We can't do him any good."

"Poor fellow!" murmured Charlie. "Ouch!" he suddenly exclaimed, in louder tones than any they had heretofore used.

"Quiet!" hissed Blake. "What's the matter?"

"A big rat ran right over my legs," answered Macaroni.

"Well, if he didn't bite you what are you yelling about?" demanded Joe.

The trenches were full of rats--great, gray fellows--for there was much carrion food for them.

Once more, making a little detour, Blake started forward, but hardly had he again taken up his progress when there came the sound of a slight explosion over toward the German lines, and almost instantly the dreary stretch of No Man's Land was brightly illuminated.

"Down! Down!" hoa.r.s.ely called Blake, and he and his chums dropped full length on the ground, never heeding puddles of water, the rats or the dead, for they became aware that more bodies were all about them.

Up from the German lines went a series of rockets and star cl.u.s.ters.

They made the battle ground between the two forces almost as bright as day, so that should any of the unfortunate wounded men be seen to move they might be killed.

Perhaps some keen-eyed Hun, watching for just this chance, had detected a slight movement near the dead man beside whom Blake and his chums first stopped. And, knowing from a previous observation that the body was cold and stark, the sniper must have reasoned that the living had joined it.

Or perhaps the incautious exclamation made by Charlie when he felt the big rat may have been carried to the ever-listening ears. However that was, the glaring lights were set off, and at once hundreds of rifles, aimed over the tops of the German trenches, began to send a hail of lead across No Man's Land.

Fortunately the line of fire was either to one side of where the boys had fallen, or it was too high or too low. They did not stop to consider which it was, but were thankful that they felt none of the leaden missiles, though some sang uncomfortably close.

For perhaps five minutes the glaring lights illuminated the blood-stained ground, and the firing was kept up at intervals. It was replied to from the American and French lines, but with what effect could only be guessed.

And then, once more, darkness settled down, and the boys began to breathe more easily. They had had a narrow escape, and their journey was not half over, to say nothing of the return trip--if they lived to make it.

"Come on!" Blake cautiously whispered again. "And bear off to the right.

The fire wasn't so heavy from there. Maybe we can find a gap to get through."

His companions followed him as he crawled along, actually crawling this time, for it was not safe to rise high enough to walk even in a stooping position. No one could tell when the glaring lights might be sent up again.

But, for a time, Fritz seemed satisfied with the demonstration he had made. Perhaps he had killed some of the wounded, for not all of them had been brought in. Perhaps he had only further mutilated bodies that had long since ceased to be capable of movement.

And so, over the dark and b.l.o.o.d.y ground, Blake and his chums made their way. In a little while they would be in comparative safety, for their friend the sentry had told them there were no regular trenches near the little hollow where once had stood a machine-gun emplacement and where the boys now hoped to find their precious war films.