“What happened?”
“How'd they get you?”
“Are you hurt?”
These were a few of the questions put to Tom and Jack as they were surrounded by the rescuing party of their friends, led, it afterward developed, by the very lieutenant with whom the two air service boys had started in the patrol across No Man's Land.
The German captors had either all surrendered or been killed, and the tables were most effectively switched around. At first Tom and Jack were too surprised and overwhelmingly grateful to answer.
But they soon understood what had happened. And then they told the story of their fight against odds until captured. They said nothing just then of the unexpected information that had come to them about Harry Leroy's presence in a German camp so comparatively near their own lines. But they resolved, at the first opportunity, to make use of the information.
The shooting of the big guns gradually ceased when it was made manifest that neither side was ready for a general engagement. The pop-pop of the machine weapons, too, died away and the star shells ceased rising.
“Come on you Fritzies—what's left of you,” cried the lieutenant, when he had made sure that there were no others of his party whom he could rescue.
Then with Tom and Jack the center of a happy, tumultuous throng of their own comrades, the trip back to the American lines was begun. It was without incident save that on the way a wounded British soldier was found lying in a shell hole and carried in, ultimately to recover.
Tom and Jack told what had happened to them, how they had been surrounded and led away; and then, came the story of the lieutenant who had led the patrol party which had turned defeat into victory with the aid of reinforcements which were sent to him.
He had seen his hopes blasted when rushed by the big crowd of the Hun patrol, and, though slightly wounded, he realized that absolute defeat would come to him and his men unless he could get help. He sent a runner back with word to send relief, and then, surrounding himself with what few men remained alive and uncaptured, the fight went on.
It was bitter and sanguinary, and at last, with only two men left beside him, the lieutenant heard the rush of the relief guard. He was placed in charge, as he knew the lay of the land, and the party hurried to and fro, wiping up little knots of Germans here and there, until the main body encountered the squad having in charge the two air service boys.
“You began to think it was all up with you, didn't you?” asked the lieutenant, when they were all once more safely in the dugout.
“We certainly did!” admitted Tom.
“We had visions of watery soup and wheatless bread for the rest of the war,” observed Jack.
He and Tom were slightly wounded—mere scratches they dubbed the hurts—but they were sent to the rear to be looked over and bandaged, as were some of the others who were more severely hurt. There were some who could not be sent back—who were left in No Man's Land silent figures who would never take part in a battle again. They had paid their price toward making the world a better place to live in, and their names were on the Honor Roll.
“Well, what do you think about it?” asked Tom of Jack.
“I don't know what to think. It seems hardly possible that Harry can be so near to us, and yet we can't do a thing to help him.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” returned Tom. “That's what I want to talk about.”
It was a week after the patrol raid, and clear weather had succeeded the rain and mist, so that it was possible for the aeroplanes to operate. And their services were much needed.
There were preparations going on back of the German lines of which General Pershing and the Allied commanders needed to be informed. And only the “eyes” of the armies could see them and report—the eyes being the aeroplanes.
So it came about that, having been relieved of their temporary transfer to the infantry, Tom and Jack were once more with their comrades of the air.
“Well, let's think it over, and talk about it when we come down,” suggested Jack. “We've got to go upstairs for our usual tour of duty now.”
This would last three hours. They were to do scout work—report any unusual activity back of the German lines, or give warning of the approach of any hostile aeroplanes. After their tour of duty was ended they would have the rest of the day to themselves, provided there was no general attack. Of course if, while they were up, they were attacked, they must fight.
Each lad had a plane to himself, since the young “huns” had all pretty well passed their novitiate, and were now in the regular flying squad. Later some other new aviators would report for instruction on the battle front.
Up and up climbed Tom and Jack, and eagerly they scanned the German lines for any signs of activity. But though there were some Hun planes in the air, they did not approach to give battle. Possibly some other plans were afoot. Afterward Tom and Jack admitted to one another that there was a great temptation to fly over the German trenches to try to get a sight of the prison that had been spoken of—the camp where Harry Leroy might be held.
But to do this would be in direct violation of their orders, and they dared not take any risks. For to do so might involve not only themselves in danger, but others as well. And that view of the matter determined them. They would have to await their opportunity for rescuing their chum—if it could be accomplished.
Their tour of duty aloft that day was without incident. This is not an usual condition at times along the long battle front. Men can not go on fighting without stop, and there come lulls in even the fiercest battle. Flesh and blood can stand only a certain amount of torture, and then even the soul rebels.
So Tom and Jack drifted peacefully down to their aerodrome, noting that it was being newly camouflaged, for the recent rain had played havoc with some of the concealments.
As far as possible both the Germans and the Allies tried to conceal the location of their flying camps. The aeroplanes and balloons needed large buildings to house them, and such structures made excellent and, of course, fair war-marks for bombing parties in aeroplanes hovering aloft. So it was the custom to put up trees and bushes or to stretch canvas over the aerodromes and paint it to resemble woods and fields in an effort to conceal, or camouflage, the depots where the airships were stationed. But this work was done by a special detail of men, and with it Tom and Jack had nothing to do.
They turned their machines over to the mechanics, who would go carefully over them and have the craft in readiness for the next flight. Then, being free for several hours, the two young airmen could do as they pleased, within certain limits.
“Well, did anything occur to you?” asked Jack, as he and Tom, having divested themselves of their heavy fur-lined garments, went to the mess hall, which was in an old stable, from which the horses had long since been removed.
“You mean a plan to rescue Harry?”
“That's it.”
“No, I'm sorry to say I can't think of a thing,” Tom answered. “I thought I would, but I didn't. Have you anything to say?”
“Yes. Let's go to Paris.”
“You mean to see—er—?”
“Yes!” interrupted Jack with a smile. “This is their day off, and we might as well have a little enjoyment when we can. From the easy time we had to-day we'll have some hard fighting to-morrow. This was too good to last. Heinie is up to some mischief, I think.”
“Same here.”
So, having received permission, they went to Paris, and soon found their way to the lodgings of Mrs. Gleason, where the air service boys were welcomed by Bessie and Nellie.
Of course the first question had to do with the captive Harry, and to the delight of Nellie Tom was able to say:
“We have news of him, anyhow.”
“News? You mean he is all right?”
“Well, as all right as he ever can be while the Boches have him, I suppose,” was the answer.
“But the news didn't come direct from him. He's in another camp. I'll tell you about it.”
Tom and Jack, by turns, related what had happened on the night patrol, and explained how they had overheard talk of Harry.
“Then he is nearer than he has been?” asked Nellie.
“Yes,” admitted Tom.
“Won't it be easier to rescue him then?” Bessie queried.
“Well, that doesn't follow,” said Jack. “Of course if we could rescue him, we'd have a shorter distance to bring him, to get him inside our lines. But it's just as difficult getting beyond the German lines now as it was before. Tom and I thought we'd come and talk it over, and see if you girls have anything to suggest. We'll do the rescue work if we only get a chance, and can find some plan. Have you any?”
He asked that question, though he hardly expected an answer. And both he and Tom, as well as Bessie and her mother, were greatly surprised when Nellie exclaimed:
“Yes, I have!”
“You have?” cried Tom. “What is it? Tell us, quick!”
“I am going to save my brother by offering myself as a prisoner in his place,” said Nellie with quiet resolve. “That's how I'll save him! I'll exchange myself for him!”
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