The Moving Picture Boys on the War Front Part 27

But their journey was not destined to be peaceful. Once more the flaring lights went up, and again came the heavy firing. Again the boys crouched to get below the storm of bullets, and again they escaped. But a groan and a cry of anguish, from somewhere on their left, told them some poor unfortunate had been put out of his misery.

They waited a little while, and then again took up the perilous journey.

Presently Blake, taking a cautious observation, announced that they were in comparative safety, and might walk upright.

"Where's the hut--or whatever it is?" asked Joe.

"Down in that little hollow, I take it," said Blake. "We can't see it until we round that little hill. Maybe we can't see it at all, for it may not be there," he added. "But we'd better go slow, for it may be there, and there may be some one in it."

"Secor and Labenstein, perhaps," murmured Charlie.

"Perhaps," agreed Blake. "If they are----"

He did not finish, but his chums knew he meant there might be a desperate fight.

A little later, having proceeded cautiously, the boys made the turn around the little hill that had hitherto hidden from view the hollow of which the American sentry had spoken, and then they saw in the light of the stars what seemed to be a tumbled-down hut. As a matter of fact, it had once been a concrete dugout, where a machine gun had been placed in order to fire at the French and American lines. But in the heavy fighting of the past few days this place had been captured by an American contingent. They had destroyed the gun and killed most of the crew, and the place had been blown up by a bomb. But the fierce waves of Germans had surged back over the place, driving out the Americans who, in turn, captured it again.

Just now the place was supposed to be deserted, being of no strategic value, and in a location that made it dangerous for either side to hold it.

"We'll take a look in there," said Blake, when they had drawn near and had discovered that the ruins of the concrete dugout had been covered with brush, to "camouflage" it from spying airmen.

They approached cautiously, and, as they did so, they became aware of a faint light coming from the ruins. So faint was it that at first it seemed no more than the reflection of the stars, but a long look showed that it was a light from within, but carefully screened.

"We've got to have a look in!" whispered Blake. "Maybe the films are there, and maybe not; but some person is."

"Probably Germans," said Joe.

"Very likely. But it may be that Frenchman. If we could only capture him!"

"I'd like a chance at him!" exclaimed Charlie.

"Hush!" cautioned Blake. The boys were now close to the hut, for that was all it was since the bombardment. They tried on three sides of the place to look in, but without success. Then, as they moved around to the side which faced the German lines, they saw a crack through which the light streamed in greater volume.

"Take a look, Blake," advised Joe.

His chum did so, and, with an exclamation of surprise and satisfaction, turned away from the slot, motioning to the others to look for themselves. And as Joe and Charlie looked they saw, seated on the ruins of a machine gun and other things that had been in the place, Secor and Labenstein. The two plotters had between them boxes which the boys had no difficulty in recognizing as their missing war films.

Joe was about to utter an exclamation of delight when Blake softly put his hand over his chum's mouth.

"Not a sound!" breathed Blake.

For a moment the boys stood looking in at the plotters and wondering how they could capture them, or at least get back the stolen films.

And then a door, or what had been a door, to the dugout swung open with a creak of its rusty hinges.

"What's that?" cried Secor, in French, starting to his feet.

"Only the wind," replied the German, in the tongue of his fellow-conspirator. "Only the wind."

"Ah! I thought maybe it was----"

"You thought perhaps it was the boys who own these films, but who will never see them again. I know not how valuable they may be--these films--but I was told to get them, and I have. Let the ones higher up decide on their value. But we must get our price for them--you and I. We must get a good price. We have run a great risk."

"Yes, a great risk," murmured the Frenchman.

Blake motioned to his chums to follow him into the dugout. They could see his gestures in the light of a lantern which formed the illumination of the ruins.

Cautiously the three went inside, the noise they made being covered by the rattling of the wind which had sprung up.

"We have them! We have them!" exulted Joe, in a whisper.

They were silently considering how best to surprise and capture the two men, who were still unaware of the presence of the boys, when a sudden noise came from outside. Blake and his chums, as well as the two men, started.

"That was not the wind!" exclaimed Secor.

"No, my friend. It was not. I think there is some one here besides ourselves. We must look. I----"

And then came a guttural command in German:

"Surrender--all of you! You are surrounded and are prisoners!

Surrender!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE AIRSHIP RAID

Surprise on the part of Blake and his chums, as well as on the part of Secor and Labenstein, was so complete that it would be hard to say who felt the sensation most. The moving picture boys, after danger and difficulties, had found the stolen army films and those they believed had taken them. They were about to make a dash and get not only the precious boxes, but also, if possible, capture the two plotters, when, like a bolt from a clear sky, they were themselves called upon to surrender.

"Come on!" yelled Charlie, as he understood the import of the summons to surrender. "We can make a fight for it!"

"Don't try it!" advised Blake. By the light of lanterns carried by the raiding party of Germans he had seen that they were numerous and well armed. It would have been the height of folly to resist, especially as the boys were non-combatants and not ent.i.tled to the honors of war.

"Hands up--and search them!" commanded the German officer of the raiding party, as he pointed to Blake and his two chums. He spoke in German and then lapsed into English, which he spoke very well, saying:

"It will be best for you Americans to give in quietly. Hands up!" And the order was stern.

The boys had no choice but to obey, and their weapons were quickly taken from them.

"I will allow you to keep your gas masks for the present," the German captain said, "as you may need them, as we ourselves may, before we get back to our lines."

"Then we are going back with you?" asked Joe.

"Of a certainty--yes! Did you think I would leave you here to go back to your own? Indeed not! Now, then, ready--march--all of you!" and he nodded at Secor and Labenstein.

Blake and his two friends noticed that no hostility seemed directed toward the two conspirators, who, however, appeared as much surprised at the advent of the raiding party as were the boys. It was evident, though, that some understanding existed between the German captain and Labenstein, for they talked in low voices while Secor stood a little apart. The gaze of the Frenchman rested on the boys in what Blake said later seemed a peculiar manner.