by Gordon Bates
CHAPTER VI
THE UNFORESEEN
"I've got fine news here for you guys!" Jimmy Blaise bolted into themidst of his bunkies, who were grouped together in their own cornerof barracks waiting for supper call to blow. In his hand was an openletter which he waved triumphantly at them.
"From Voissard," he jubilantly informed them. "He's coming down to seeus on Saturday, along with the Twinkle Twins. Glad it's a half-holiday.We'll have more chance to show 'em around. Wait a minute and I'll readit to you."
Surrounded by an interested audience, Jimmy spread open the letter andread:
"'Dear Sergeant Blaise:
"'With much pleasure I write to inform you that my cousins and myself expect to pay you and your friends the visit on Saturday afternoon. I have something of importance to impart to you regarding the matter we discussed in Paris. With best wishes I remain,
"'Sincerely,
"'EMILE VOISSARD.'"
"Three whoops for Cousin Emile!" caroled Bob. "We certainly are theoriginal white-haired boys. Think of a visit from the 'Flying Terror ofFrance'! This place won't hold us, we'll be so puffed up with pride andvanity!"
"He's not a bit particular about his company," grinned Roger. "Thehumble non-com and the president of France are all one to Cousin Emile.That's the way it looks."
"That's the way it _is_," emphasized Jimmy. "Voissard has earned theright to do as he pleases. He knows it and that explains everything.Anyway, he has business to talk over with Blazes. Ahem!"
"See him puff out his chest." Bob wagged a derisive head at Jimmy. "Hethrows that old bluff, 'I'm not so much,' but he means, 'I'm it!'"
"Spotted at last," was Jimmy's grinning admission. "I knew you'd getwise to me some day."
"We hated to tell you," teased Schnitzel, joining in the banter. "Nowyou know it, don't feel too bad about it."
"My heart's bruised but not broken," retaliated Jimmy. "I can stand afew more such shocks and still keep on going. What's the matter withyou, Iggy? Haven't you a gentle little knock to hand me? Now's thetime. I'm in a real good humor."
"Never I hand you him that knock," responded Ignace with deep solemnity.
"He keeps 'em for Bobby, don't you Iggins?"
"Ye-a." Ignace snickered at Bob's accusation. "I like make the fon toyou, 'cause always you make the fon to me."
Supper call broke in upon this good-humored exchange of raillery. Loyalto the death the five Brothers rarely took one another seriously. Evensolemn Ignace had learned the art of "joshing" which is second natureto the American youth.
Several days had passed since the Khaki Boys had made the eventful tripto Paris which had ended in an attempt on their lives by an unknownfoe. They had reported the affair to headquarters the next morning.Jimmy Blaise had said nothing, however, to anyone, of his own privatesuspicion concerning the "tiger man." It was merely a vague suppositionon his part, and he was quite willing to "let sleeping tigers lie."
Inquiry in camp among men who had been there longer than themselvesrevealed to the Khaki Boys the knowledge that occasionally similarnight attacks had been made upon soldiers going or coming from thevillage. In one instance a Sammy had been wounded in the leg andhad lain groaning by the roadside until picked up by a party of hiscomrades returning to camp from the village.
This rather put a crimp in Jimmy's theory that his old enemy hadtrailed him from Paris. He decided inwardly that he was an idiot toallow such "crazy" ideas brain room and promptly banished them from hismind.
It was on Thursday that Jimmy received the letter from Voissardannouncing his intention of visiting the Khaki Boys' camp on Saturday.The visit was destined not to be paid, however, for on Friday morningthe detachment of the 509th Infantry, to which the five Brothersbelonged, received the longed-for order to move on.
The selected men of the 509th Infantry were to accompany part ofanother American regiment, longer in training than themselves, on thisnew move toward the front. None knew whether the order meant a briefinterval of rest in a village near the fighting lines or if theirjourney would lead them straight to the trenches. The men of the 509thwere hopeful that this last would be their lot. They were intenselyeager to "get a whack" at the Boches. As Bob soulfully remarked: "Therearen't any cold feet in the little old 509th."
There was only one drawback to the five Brothers' satisfaction. Howwere they to send quick word to Voissard and the Twinkle Twins of thisnew turn in their affairs?
In desperation Jimmy finally sought Major Steadman, his commandingofficer, and laid the matter before him. Fortunately for all concernedthe major chanced to be well acquainted with the aviator. Not only didhe show evident interest in Jimmy's story of how he and his bunkieshappened to be acquainted with Cousin Emile. He very kindly volunteeredto take the responsibility on himself of sending the aviator apersonal dispatch. Thus it was arranged, but five Sammies were deeplydisappointed over the sudden collapse of the "Flying Terror's" proposedvisit.
Friday afternoon saw the selected detachments marching to the stationto entrain, looking not unlike a herd of overloaded young camels.Hiking about Camp Marvin under "full pack" was easy compared to theamount of equipment with which the Khaki Boys were now loaded down.Each Sammy fairly bristled with the paraphernalia of war.
Everything needful for trench life was attached to some part of hisperson. All the worldly goods bestowed upon him by the Army, he nowcarried with him, together with as many of his own personal possessionsas he could make room for and bear the weight of. Undoubtedly few ofthese last treasured gifts would go with him to the trenches. Theywould have to be reluctantly cast aside or given away, leaving him withonly the absolutely necessary articles and equipment provided by theGovernment.
Burdened as they were, it was a thrilling moment for the Khaki Boyswhen late on Friday afternoon the bugles called them to Assembly infront of barracks. All day they had been impatiently waiting for theorder. Every young face glowed with patriotic fire as they obeyedthe call, "Fall in," and were marched, company after company to thestation, there to entrain for the front.
All along the way they were cheered by the inhabitants of the villagewho had come out to catch a farewell view of the gallant Sammies andsend them into the fight with warm-hearted expressions of their goodwill. Many a French mother breathed a prayer and made the sign of thecross as she saw these sturdy youngsters taking the same stretch ofthe Glory Road over which had passed a beloved son or sons of her own,never to return.
Arrived at the station our Khaki Boys were marshaled with the rest intothe waiting "48 Men, Eight horses," which had been used to convey somany Allied soldiers to the fighting district. Entering these cheerlessand highly uncomfortable box-cars, they were leaving behind them thecomparative ease and safety they had enjoyed since landing in France.From now on the Glory Road would mean a succession of trials andhardships, with death always lurking in the foreground.
Every mile the train ran meant a nearer approach to the goal for whichthey had so long striven. At last they were on the way to strike theirfirst definite blow in the big war.
