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CHAPTER III
THE WOUNDED AVIATORS

They were out early the next morning, and started for the tramway a mile distant. They passed Tom's hangar, and stopped for a moment to take a look at his machine. As they were leaving they heard his voice:

"Going to leave us?" he inquired.

"No; but we must go to the city to get our mail, and we are expecting a telegram," shouted Ralph.

"Get back by eleven o'clock if you can," was the answer.

"We'll be here, sure," said Alfred.

"He must mean that we can have a try in the machine at that time, I suppose," remarked Ralph.

"I imagine that's why he wants us back then," answered Alfred.

They covered the mile in record time. The idea of going up in a machine was a stimulus, and they talked about it all the way, and wondered what it would feel like to sail above the earth in a war-machine.

At the post office they had their first disappointment, and there was nothing at the telegraph office. They were perplexed at the absence of news, but consoled themselves with the thought that transportation from the Swiss frontier might be in the same condition as at the Western front, so they decided they would not remain long in the city.

The city, containing a population of about 40,000, is located on the sand dunes. It takes its name from the old church of St. Eloi, and means church on the dunes. It has been in existence for over a thousand years, and was owned by the Dutch, the Spaniards, and the English, before it became permanent French territory.

Passing through the principal square, on their way to the terminus of the tram cars, they saw crowds of people moving toward the main landing place of vessels. They followed, and witnessed the debarkation of the first vessel load of Red Cross supplies, accompanied by a large corps of physicians and Red Cross nurses.

Fully fifty vans were taken from the ship and lined up, with their equipments, ready for a prompt start. A number of lorries (large motor trucks), carrying beds, bedding and like material, followed, and were placed behind the vans.

"Do you know where they are going?" asked Ralph, addressing a young man in uniform.

"To the general hospital, where they will be assigned to stations near the front," he replied.

"Do you mean the general hospital near the aviation ground?" inquired Alfred.

"Yes," was the answer.

"Probably we can get a chance to ride there," said Ralph, addressing Alfred.

The man overheard the remark, and quickly turned to the boys.

"Are you attached to the flying squadron?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Alfred.

"Then they wouldn't object, I am sure," answered the officer, and he strode forward. After speaking a few words to one who seemed to be in charge, he motioned to them.

"Get in, boys," he said.

They were quick to respond, and, after thanking the officer, mounted one of the vans. Inside were three nurses and two physicians, who smiled at the boys.

"So you are going to war, too?" said one of the nurses, as she made room for them.

"Yes," said Alfred, rather shyly; "we are going back."

"Going back?" remarked one of the doctors. "Did you say 'going back?'" he inquired.

"Well, we were with the Belgian army from Liege to Antwerp, and came across the northern part of Belgium with them," said Alfred.

"Then you must have seen some fighting?" asked one of the others, much interested.

"Yes, indeed; we were in the first battles of the war," said Ralph.

The information was certainly an interesting bit of news. From that time on the boys were the center of interest, and many questions were plied and answered.

"But where are you bound now?" asked one of the doctors. "If I understand correctly, you are attached to the aviation corps, is that so?"

"Yes, we are being put up by them, and we may do some flying in a few days," said Alfred.

"We do hope you will be successful," said one of the nurses. "Won't you tell us where you are from?"

"We are from New York," said Alfred.

"Then you are not English?" she asked.

"Oh, no," replied Alfred. "But that doesn't make any difference. It's just the same as though we were English. We want to help out."

There was a merry roar of laughter at this, and Ralph immediately chimed in with a sort of explanation: "The Germans didn't treat us right, when they captured us, and, anyhow, they had no business to attack Belgium."

"Good for you," said a sweet little miss. "We like Americans, and especially those like you who have that spirit."

The vans covered the ground to the general hospital in quick time, and the boys were really sorry when the van drew up before the building, but they quickly recognized the place where they had accompanied the injured aviators the previous day.

"Ralph, we ought to go in and see the lieutenant and Jack," said Alfred.

"Who are they?" interposed the doctor.

"Why, they fell with their machine yesterday, and we helped them out," said Alfred.

"What was the lieutenant's name?" asked the doctor.

"Why, we don't know; we forgot to ask for it; but maybe they will let us in," said Ralph.

"Come along," said the doctor. "We'll find a way to get in."

They followed him up the steps, and marched to the office, where the doctor was greeted by many of those present.

"Who was it that met with an accident yesterday?" he asked.

"Lieutenant Winston," was the reply.

"And was he badly hurt?" almost shrieked the sweet little nurse who had accompanied the party in the van.

"No; he is getting along well," said the attending physician. "He owes his life to a couple of brave lads, who happened to be near. He has been anxious to see the boys, and has asked where they were."

"We are the ones who helped him," said Ralph. "We want to see him; may we?"

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much," said the nurse.

"Do you know him?" inquired Alfred.

"He is my brother; may we go to him at once?" she asked.

"I will take you to him," said the physician.

"So you are Miss Winston?" said Alfred. "Isn't it funny how we happened to meet you?"

She almost hugged the boys in her joy at the news, and at her good fortune in thus meeting the boys who were instrumental in saving her brother.

The lieutenant saw his sister approaching arm in arm with the two boys. The greeting was a most affectionate one.

"I met the two boys in Dunkirk; they just happened to get into our van. We learned after we got here what they had done. Isn't it noble of them?" she said.

"I have tried to find them all day," said the lieutenant, and he pressed the hands of the boys. "Yes, I was in an awfully tight place when the boys found me; but I am all right now."

They remained with the lieutenant and his sister for more than an hour. They had entirely forgotten their appointment with Tom. It was nearly twelve o'clock.

"I am afraid we shall have to leave you," said Ralph. "We promised Tom to be over at the hangar at eleven."

"Tom Brandon; the American dare-devil?" said the lieutenant, smiling.

"Why, yes," replied Alfred, somewhat hesitatingly. "Is he a dare-devil?" he continued, with wide-open eyes.

"Well, he doesn't seem to be afraid of anything; I suppose he would go anywhere, if he was ordered to make the trip. Is your engagement an important one?" asked the lieutenant, with a curious light in his eye.

"Why,—yes,—we—we wanted to take a flight this afternoon," said Ralph.

"Do you think they would let us?" asked Alfred quickly.

"Rather against the rules and somewhat risky," said the lieutenant, slowly shaking his head, but his face relaxed, as he saw the crestfallen appearance of the boys. "We can get around the rules sometimes," he added.

"Tom said he would try to fix it for us," said Ralph.

"Then go at once, and tell him that Winston gave him permission," said the lieutenant. "Do you think it is safe, Addie?" he asked, turning to his sister.

"It seems to me it is safe to trust boys who have been in battles as they have, don't you?" she replied sweetly, as she arose and grasped the boys' hands. "Now, don't forget us, will you?"

"No, indeed; we intend to come over to see you in the morning," said Ralph.

The boys fairly flew across the broad grounds in order to reach the hangar. Their chagrin was great as they peered in to find that Tom and his machine were absent.

"Looking for Tom?" asked one of the men.

"Yes; do you know where he is?" asked Alfred.

"He's coming now, I think," was the reply, as the man approached the door and glanced upward. "Yes; there he is, winging it in."

Within two minutes the Morane gave a quick dive, then flattened out and skimmed the ground, and just before alighting the nose of the machine gave a short, quick, upward dart.

"He does that the slickest of the whole lot. That was a quick stop, sure enough," remarked an attendant.

The machine had landed not two hundred feet from the hangar. The boys were over without delay, and accosted Tom, as he reached the ground.

"We are sorry that we couldn't get here in time, but we met Lieutenant Winston's sister coming over, and we were detained at the hospital," said Ralph.

"It's just as well, as I couldn't make it. The commandant wouldn't give me the time to take you out," said Tom.

"But the lieutenant told us to tell you that he gave you permission to take us," said Alfred.

"Did he say that? Well, that's another thing. I'll tell the commandant," and, without another word, he crossed the field, and disappeared. He was back in five minutes, and waved his hat as he appeared.

"All right, boys; we'll have an hour's flight; how will that suit you?" he said.

The boys were too much excited to know what to say in reply. Tom walked around the machine, observing every part of the control plane and the wires, then mounted the chassis, and with a wrench unscrewed the base of the machine gun.

"Here, boys; we'll take this off for the afternoon; it'll give you more room. There, take hold of it at both ends, and carry it into the hangar," he said, as he handed down the weapon.

"Gee! but that weighs something!" said Ralph.

"Close to eighty pounds, I should say," observed Tom.

"Where shall we sit?" asked Alfred.

"You can easily crowd into the hole in front," said Tom. "Now don't get frightened and jump out; I can bring you down easier than that. If it seems to turn over, don't mind. That's part of the game."

The Morane was equipped with a self-starter, but three attendants were on hand to hold the machine. They took their places and Tom turned on the switch. Whir-r-r-r-r,—they felt the tremor of the machine. Soon Tom's hand was raised and came down with a swift motion. They felt the machine slowly gain headway, and then it seemed to spring forward with huge leaps. At first they could feel the oscillating motion of the wheels, and as the speed increased there was less jar until finally there was no further vertical movement, and they no longer felt the wheels traveling over the ground.

"We're up!" shouted Ralph in excitement, as he turned to Tom. The latter evidently knew what Ralph meant, even though the noise of the motor prevented him from hearing, for he merely smiled, and shook his head.

Alfred leaned over the side of the body, and gazed at the wheels, and as he did so something seemed to push the seat of the aeroplane upwardly. He quickly turned toward Tom and smiled. They were in the air. How glorious it seemed to Ralph and Alfred at that moment. The feeling was an indescribable one; they were now going up rapidly; ahead was a tall pylon, which seemed to be directly in their way.

Ralph seized Alfred's arm, and pointed toward it, their eyes being intently fixed on the square flag which flew above the mast, but the machine seemed to whiz by it like a streak. After passing it the machine seemed to slow down. They were not aware that the closer you are to an object the faster seems to be the motion. Looking down at the earth they could note an object for some time, and as they went further up and up, things on the earth seemed to pass by with less and less speed.

The most confusing thing to them was the constant change of position. Instead of making a straight-away flight Tom circled around the aviation field twice, going higher on each turn. The great hangar was plainly visible each time they came around, but it grew smaller and smaller.

The boys leaned over the body of the machine, and scanned the earth below. It was too grand and inspiring for words. It was some time before they began to realize that the hangars were disappearing, and that the machine was now going forward in one direction. The country below was a confused maze of narrow yellow streaks, bordered by green and yellow spots, with innumerable rows of dark green and brown bands and patches, which they soon recognized as trees, while cottages and larger buildings dotted the whole landscape as far as the eye could reach.

Alfred was the first to cast his eyes to the north. What he saw almost startled him. A dark vivid green spread to the horizon, blending with a pale mist, far, far away.

"Look! look!" he cried.

"That's the sea!" shouted Ralph.

Tom smiled as he reveled in their joy. He pointed ahead, and the boys quickly turned. Far off, in the distance, they saw what seemed to be immense fields of snow.

"What can that be?" asked Ralph.

Alfred shook his head, and gazed silently, then turned toward Tom. "Can you make it out?" he asked Ralph. The latter shook his head.

The machine went on for ten minutes more. Beyond the white fields something else arrested their attention; great clouds of smoke were observed. They were not clouds, and there was no fire visible on the earth. That was the second mystery.

"I know what that is now," said Ralph.

"What is it?" asked Alfred.

"Tents, tents," said Ralph.

"Yes, and that smoke must come from the big guns," said Alfred.

Ralph turned his head toward Tom, and raised his cap. The latter knew that the boys recognized the nature of the scene before them.

"That must be a battle," said Alfred, as he pointed to the great clouds of smoke.

"Look way over to the left," shouted Ralph. "See that long, narrow road? There is something moving there."

"Why, that is cavalry; sure enough. See, they are turning a corner in the road. That's plain enough," said Alfred.

"I wonder if he is going to take us over the German lines?" queried Ralph.

"And suppose something happens, and we are compelled to go down; we'll be in a nice fix," remarked Alfred.

Ralph shook his head, and glanced back toward Tom. The latter, however, soon turned the machine. As he did so a dozen or more aeroplanes came into view. They noticed that the machine was going toward a field where a huge gas bag was moored near the ground. It was an observation balloon. Beyond were several dozens of flying machines drawn up in front of the hangars. Tom circled the machine around several times; the earth came nearer, and soon they observed a long stretch of green that seemed to invite them. In another minute they were several hundred feet from the earth, and they seemed to go faster and faster.

"Whew! but doesn't it scoot now," said Alfred.

They grasped the body of the car, while it seemed to fairly sizzle through the air. Closer and closer the earth crept up toward them. They felt that it would be necessary to hold fast when the shock came. The next sensation was most peculiar; the body of the car began to rock up and down; the din of the motor had ceased, and they were riding on the earth.

CHAPTER IV
TRENCH WORK WITH THE BRITISH FORCES

Everyone seemed to know Tom, as he was heartily greeted on all sides. The appearance of the boys, however, was a puzzle to the group of aviators.

"Let me introduce my friends, Ralph and Alfred, genuine American boys, who were with the Belgians in their great fight from Liege to Antwerp," said Tom.

"How did that happen?" asked one of the men, as he grasped their hands.

"We were on the spot when war was declared, and we just pitched in and helped them out," replied Ralph.

"Were you in any battles?" asked another.

"Oh, in a dozen, or so," answered Alfred.

"Good boys!" shouted several.

"How did you happen to get here?" asked the first interrogator.

"We came over with the Belgians, from Antwerp," said Ralph.

The foregoing information was enough to introduce the boys, and they were gratified to find several other Americans in the party.

The reception was cut short by the peculiar antics of a huge Farman machine, which was approaching in an erratic manner. It seemed to dart back and forth, and swing around in short circles, as though wounded.

"Something is the matter with Le Clere," shouted Tom.

At that moment the machine darted toward the earth, and the boys held their breaths at the anticipated calamity. Fifty feet from the earth the machine righted itself, and swooped upward, then, with a vicious plunge, it went down and struck the earth, the crash being plainly heard, although it landed more than five hundred feet from where they stood.

Every one on the ground rushed toward the fallen aviator. Before they reached the scene, two men extricated themselves, and stood on the debris.

"What was the matter?" asked Ralph.

"Look at the holes in the wings," said Tom. "That tells the story; pretty well riddled."

"Are you all right?" shouted one of the men.

"Yes, but that was a dandy fight, and we brought him down," replied Le Clere, a daring Frenchman, who handled the machine gun.

The Gnome motor was lying on the ground twenty feet from the wreckage. One of the planes was tilted up at an angle, and was uninjured, but it carried the marks of twenty holes, through which the sunlight streamed.

"That will give you an idea of the fascinating work we are engaged in," said Tom, pointing to the bullet marks. The body of the machine was wrecked, and the fuselage a mass of splinters. It was, indeed, a mystery how the two flyers escaped without injury.

"What will they do with the machine?" asked Alfred.

"They'll build up another out of it in two days," said Tom.

"The Germans are marching west and south of Roubaix," said Le Clere. "They have already reached Mons, and are going straight toward Paris."

The boys looked at each other in amazement. It seemed as though their trip to Paris would be interrupted, after all. Tom seemed to read their thoughts.

"How far is it to Mons?" asked Alfred.

"About fifty miles south," said Tom.

"And what is the name of the town which we saw before we came down?" asked Ralph.

"Lille," was the response. "But we must be going back," continued Tom. "We are going to move south in the morning, and I have a few things to pack up."

After bidding good-bye to every one, they climbed into the airplane, and those present gave the boys a cheer, as the machine glided forward. Tom had promised to give them an hour's flight, and it was now four o'clock. They had heard about taking observations, while on the grounds at Lille, and they busied themselves in trying to do work of that character. How small the houses were! They could see little creeping things, that soon evolved themselves into horses and wagons, but they seemed unreal.

The flight to Lille covered a distance of forty-five miles, and it took them an hour. It didn't seem that they could have been aloft half of that time. Now, on returning, the novelty had worn off, and they were so much interested that they forgot to look at their watches until the deep blue haze, which betokened the approach to the sea, aroused them.

"Why, it's past five o'clock," said Ralph. "Tom was going for an hour's flight only," said Alfred.

"He just said that in fun, I suppose," replied Ralph.

After alighting the boys did not know how to fully express their appreciation of Tom's kindness for the great treat, and they inquired whether they could not be of some service to him, as they were only too anxious to help him out in any way that would be useful.

"Why, no; I don't know what I can put you at," replied Tom. "Of course, there's always lots to do about the hangar, and the first thing to learn is how the machines are built, and how to handle them; and then, an important thing is to learn all the tricks in a gasoline engine."

"That's just what we want to learn," said Alfred, enthusiastically.

"But I thought you had to go to Paris to meet your father?" said Tom.

"Yes," replied Alfred ruefully; "but we can come back. I'm sure there will be no objections."

"Of course, it's your first duty to go to Paris—that is, if you can get there," said Tom, rather slyly.

There was now nothing for them to do but to make an effort to reach Paris. Immediately after landing, they started for the tram way, and reached Dunkirk after six in the evening.

"I never was as hungry in my life," said Ralph.

"Do you know why?" answered Alfred.

"Come to think of it, we didn't get anything to eat at noon," was Ralph's answer.

After alighting from the cars, their first mission was to seek a restaurant, and from that point they soon reached the post office, only to be again disappointed. At the telegraph office they had the same bad luck.

"I wonder where father is?" said Alfred.

"I suppose we shall have to go, whether we want to or not," suggested Ralph. "Let us inquire at the transportation office."

At the main office they soon learned that the troops from England were occupying every coach, motor wagon and bus that was in sight, and that there was no encouragement in that direction. But an idea occurred to Alfred.

"We belong to the army, don't we?" he said.

"Suppose we apply as soldiers, and tell them we must get to Paris at once."

They reached the main office of the Army transportation service, and boldly made their way to the room indicated by an attendant. In a few moments they were ushered in, and saw at least a score or more soldiers and officers in the room, at one end of which sat a white-haired officer, and several other officers, issuing orders.

"Your business?" said an officer, approaching them.

"We have been with the Belgians, and have just come from Antwerp. We are Americans, and are trying to reach Paris, and we wanted to know if we couldn't go on one of the trains?" explained Alfred.

The officer shook his head. "I am sorry to say that we cannot provide for any one unless connected with the army," he said.

"But we are connected with the army," said Ralph. "We were messengers, and have had a lively time, too."

"Yes, and we expect to join the flying corps, but father expects me in Paris," said Alfred.

The officer smiled, and pondered a moment. Then, motioning to them, he passed out of the room, the boys following. They crossed the hall, and entered a narrow room.

"Lieutenant," he said, "issue a permit for these boys to ride on any available train to Paris."

The boys expressed their thanks to the officer, and, after giving their names and home addresses, they received a card, which stated that the Army transport service permitted them to ride on any train where there was available room, at the discretion of the officer in charge of the train.

"I should advise you to see the officer at the station in the morning, and get him to assign you to a train number, as the quickest way," said the clerk, as he handed them the permit.

"Nothing like determination," said Ralph. "It is bound to pull you through."

It was too late for them to return to the aviation field that evening, so after considerable search, they finally found a room, and after discussing the events of the day fell asleep, and awoke long after the sun had risen.

"We've got to do some hustling," said Ralph. "We ought to see Tom this morning and tell him of our good luck."

They partook of a hasty breakfast, and were at the station in order to get an assignment. But this was not an easy matter. They waited for nearly two hours before they were able to reach the proper official.

"I am sorry to say that we cannot take you today, but I will try to make a reservation for you tomorrow. Come here after four this afternoon," said the officer.

"Now for the aviation field," said Alfred.

They were detained for more than an hour watching several newly arrived regiments embark on a train, which slowly pulled out to the south, and it was nearly noon when the grounds were reached. There seemed to be a change in the place. The hangars were empty, and no machines visible. A score of men were taking down the temporary hangars and from them it was learned that the entire corps had started at eight o'clock for the southern station.

"That's too bad!" said Ralph regretfully. "I wish we had started back earlier."

"Then we might go to the hospital," suggested Alfred.

The head surgeon remembered the boys. "It's too bad," he said. "Lieutenant Winston has been removed to the hospital at Dunkirk, and will leave for England tomorrow; but his sister is still here,—ah, here she comes."

"Oh, I am so glad to see you. Brother asked for you before he left. If you are going to England, you must go to see him. He is at Hempstead."

"We expect to go to Paris tomorrow, and we are sorry not to be able to see him," Alfred told her.

They at once returned to Dunkirk, and awaited anxiously until four o'clock. Before they had an opportunity to speak to the officer in charge, he shook his head, to indicate that there was no room. They lingered about, but it appeared to be a hopeless task. Four tracks ran by the station office, and these were constantly filled with empty cars, then loaded up, and drawn out. They watched the proceedings until the sun went down, when tired and hungry, they crossed the street, entered a coffee house, and ate a hurried supper.

As they were moving out the doorway, Ralph stopped. Turning to Alfred, he said: "We are chumps; that's about the size of it."

"Why so?" asked Alfred.

"We have the permits, haven't we? Why are we waiting for that fellow at the station to get us an assignment?" replied Ralph.

"That's a fact; let's make our own assignment; come on," answered Alfred. "Is this train going south?" he asked, addressing a soldier who was about to enter a half-filled compartment.

"Aw! I dare say it is," was the jolly response.

"Get aboard," said Alfred.

Unabashed, they swung themselves up on the running board, and entered the compartment. The occupants glanced at them for a moment, and seeing the trim uniforms, at once became inquisitive.

"How did you happen to be directed to this train?" asked one of them.

"Oh, we attended to that ourselves," said Alfred.

"Our permit's all right, but we couldn't wait for them to make up their minds when we ought to go; so here we are," said Ralph, with a laugh.

"Well, you fellows'll do; but it's a long way to Tipperary," said a voice, which trailed off into the tune of the well-known song. His companions chimed in, and it was not long before the occupants of the adjoining compartments joined in the song. It was a jolly crowd, but no one seemed to know where they were going. All had heard of the rapid advance of the Germans toward Paris, and that General French was trying to impede their advance somewhere to the south.

It was fully nine o'clock that night before the train made a real start. Before that time they were pushed around on the various sidings for an hour, and it was a relief to see the fields and feel the continual motion of the train as it finally speeded away.

There was no time for talk now. Each tried to find a comfortable place in order to get some sleep. They dozed and dozed, as most people are liable to do in uncomfortable surroundings, and some hours afterwards an orderly appeared at the door, shouting:

"All out, men; form in ranks."

"I suppose we shall have to get out, too," said Alfred.

"Why, no; this can't be Paris," replied Ralph.

"I know bally well it isn't," said a voice.

That settled it; tired and sleepy they swung off the running board, and looked at the long lines forming at the side of the train.

"Do you know where we are?" asked Ralph, addressing a soldier at his side.

"Don't know, my boy; we've had a steady run, though, for about three hours," was the reply.

"We are east of St. Quentin; we passed through the city half an hour ago; this isn't much of a hill we are on, but the Germans and French fought a battle on this very spot in the campaign of 1870-1," said an officer.

Alfred saluted the officer, and asked: "How far are we from Paris, sir?"

"I think it must be fully a hundred miles," was the reply.

The men were ordered to line up, and soon the order came to march. As the boys had no other place to go, and the train was even then backing toward the city, they marched alongside of the column. The tramp was across open fields for a half-mile, where a road was sighted, but it was lined with troops, and heavy artillery, going eastwardly.

The column continued on, parallel with the road. It was dry, dusty and warm. There was a hum of sounds, and occasionally a boom or two, which the boys recognized from their previous experiences. The most emphatic voices were those of the drivers, who were piloting the horses drawing the artillery and caissons. An hour's march brought them to a small stream, which was crossed without waiting for boats or hunting for bridges, as it was easily waded.

Across the stream they ascended an elevation, at the crest of which was a line of soldiers busily at work with spades and pick-axes. Trenches were being formed. They were cheered by the workers, but there was no halting. On they went over level ground, only to meet another line of men similarly engaged. Several hundred feet beyond an order came like a shot: "Halt!"

An orderly came riding up at full speed, and looked around. "We are waiting for orders, I suppose," remarked a lieutenant.

The orderly put spurs to his horse, and rode to the right, as he espied a group of horsemen. "Form your men along this line, and dig in," he directed.

The order was given: "File to the right; halt; stack arms."

Several lorries, which had been following them, came up, and at a word of command the men began to unload shovels and picks. This began to look like business. It was now growing light, but it still lacked a half hour before sunrise.

"Why can't we lend a hand?" inquired Ralph.

"Of course we can," answered Alfred.