Boy Scout Aviators

by Richard Harding Davis

  CHAPTER III

  PICKED FOR SERVICE

  The coming of the police cleared the little crowd of would-be riotersaway in no time. There were only three or four of the Bobbies, but theywere plenty. A smiling sergeant came up to Franklin.

  "More of your Boy Scout work, sir?" he said, pleasantly. "I heard youstanding them off! That was very well done. If we can depend on you tohelp us all over London, we'll have an easier job than we looked for."

  "We saw a whole lot of those fellows piling up against the shop here,"said Franklin. "So of course we pitched in. We couldn't let anythinglike that happen."

  "There'll be a lot of it at first, I'm afraid, sir," said the sergeant."Still, it won't last. If all we hear is true, they'll be taking a lotof those young fellows away and giving them some real fighting to do tokeep them quiet."

  "Well, we'll help whenever we can, sergeant," said Franklin. "If theinspector thinks it would be a good thing to have the shops that arekept by Germans watched, I'm quite sure it can be arranged. If there'swar I suppose a lot of you policemen will go?"

  "We'll supply our share, sir," said the sergeant. "I'm expecting ordersany minute--I'm a reservist myself. Coldstream Guards, sir."

  "Congratulations!" said Franklin. He spoke a little wistfully. "I wonderif they'll let me go? I think I'm old enough! Well, can we help any morehere tonight?"

  "No, thank you, sir. You've done very well as it is. Pity all the ladsdon't belong to the Boy Scouts. We'd have less trouble, I'll warrant.I'll just leave a man here to watch the place. But they won't be back.They don't mean any real harm, as it is. It's just their spirits--andtheir being a bit thoughtless, you know."

  "All right," said Franklin. "Glad we came along. Good-night, sergeant.Fall in! March!"

  There was a cheer from the crowd that had gathered to watch thedisturbance as the scouts move away. A hundred yards from the scene ofwhat might have been a tragedy, except for their prompt action, thescouts dispersed. Dick, Mercer and Harry Fleming naturally enough, sincethey lived so close to one another, went home together.

  "That was quick work," said Harry.

  "Yes. I'm glad we got there," said Dick. "Old Dutchy's all right-hedoesn't seem like a German. But I think it would be a good thing if theydid catch a few of the others and scrag them!"

  "No, it wouldn't," said Harry soberly. "Don't get to feeling that way,Dick. Suppose you were living in Berlin. You wouldn't want a lot ofGerman roughs to come and destroy your house or your shop and handle youthat way, would you?"

  "It's not the same thing," said Dick, stubbornly. "They're foreigners."

  "But you'd be a foreigner if you were over there!" said Harry, with alaugh.

  "I suppose I would," said Dick. "I never thought of that! Just the same,I bet Mr. Grenfel was right. London's full of spies. Isn't that an awfulidea, Harry? You can't tell who's a spy and who isn't!"

  "No, but you can be pretty sure that the man you suspect isn't,"suggested Harry, sagely. "A real spy wouldn't let you find it out veryeasily. I can see one thing and that is a whole lot of perfectlyharmless people are going to be arrested as spies before this war isvery old, if it does come! We don't want to be mixed up in that,Dick--we scouts. If we think a man's doing anything suspicious, we'llhave to be very sure before we denounce him, or else we won't be anyuse."

  "It's better for a few people to be arrested by mistake than to let aspy keep on spying, isn't it?"

  "I suppose so, but we don't want to be like the shepherd's boy who usedto try to frighten people by calling 'Wolf! Wolf!' when there wasn't anywolf. You know what happened to him. When a wolf really did come no onebelieved him. We want to look before we leap."

  "I suppose you're right, Harry. Oh, I do hope we can really be of someuse! If I can't go to the war, I'd like to think I'd had something todo--that I'd helped when my country needed me!"

  "If you feel like that you'll be able to help, all right," said Harry."I feel that way, too not that I want to fight. I wouldn't want to dothat for any country but my own. But I would like to be able to knowthat I'd had something to do with all that's going to be done."

  "I think it's fine for you to be like that," said Dick. "I think thereisn't so much difference between us, after all, even if you are Americanand I'm English. Well, here we are again. I'll see you in the morning, Isuppose?"

  "Right oh! I'll come around for you early. Goodnight!"

  "Goodnight!"

  Neither of them really doubted for a moment that war was coming. It wasin the air. The attack on the little shop that they had helped to avertwas only one of many, although there was no real rioting in London. Suchscenes were simply the result of excitement, and no great harm was doneanywhere. But the tension of which such attacks were the result waseverywhere. For the next three days there was very little for anyone todo.

  Everyone was waiting. France and Germany were at war; the news came thatthe Germans had invaded Luxembourg, and were crossing the Belgianborder.

  And then, on Tuesday night, came the final news. England had declaredwar. For the moment the news seemed to stun everyone. It had beenexpected, and still it came as a surprise. But then London rose to theoccasion. There was no hysterical cheering and shouting; everything wasquiet. Harry Fleming saw a wonderful sight a whole people aroused anddetermined. There was no foolish boasting; no one talked of a Britishgeneral eating his Christmas dinner in Berlin. But even Dick Mercer,excitable and erratic as he had always been, seemed to have undergone agreat change.

  "My father's going to the war," he told Harry on Wednesday morning. Hespoke very seriously. "He was a captain in the Boer War, you know, so heknows something about soldiering. He thinks he'll be taken, though he'sa little older than most of the men who'll go. He'll be an officer, ofcourse. And he says I've got to look after the mater when he's gone."

  "You can do it, too," said Harry, surprised, despite himself, by thechange in his chum's manner. "You seem older than I now, Dick, and I'vealways thought you were a kid!"

  "The pater says we've all got to be men, now," said Dick, steadily. "Themater cried a bit when he said he was going--but I think she must haveknown all the time he was going. Because when he told us--we were at thebreakfast table--she sort of cried a little, and then she stopped.

  "I've got everything ready for you,' she said.

  "And he looked at her, and smiled. 'So you knew I was going?' he askedher. And she nodded her head, and he got up and kissed her. I never sawhim do that before he never did that before, when I was looking on,"Dick concluded seriously. "I hope he'll come back all right, Dick," saidHarry. "It's hard, old chap!"

  "I wouldn't have him stay home for anything!" said Dick, fiercely. "AndI will do my share! You see if I don't! I don't care what they want meto do! I'll run errands--I'll sweep out the floors in the War Office, sothat some man can go to war! I'll do anything!"

  Somehow Harry realized in that moment how hard it was going to be tobeat a country where even the boys felt like that! The change in theusually thoughtless, light-hearted Dick impressed him more than anythingelse had been able to do with the real meaning of what had come about sosuddenly. And he was thankful, too, all at once, that in America thefear and peril of War were so remote. It was glorious, it was thrilling,but it was terrible, too. He wondered how many of the scouts he knew,and how many of those in school would lose their fathers or theirbrothers in this war that was beginning. Truly, there is no argument forpeace that can compare with war itself! Yet how slowly we learn!

  Grenfel had gone, and the troop was now in charge of a new scoutmaster,Francis Wharton. Mr. Wharton was a somewhat older man. At first sight hedidn't look at all like the man to lead a group of scouts, but that, asit turned out, was due to physical infirmities. One foot had beenamputated at the time of the Boer War, in which he had served withGrenfel. As a result he was incapacitated from active service, although,as the scouts soon learned, he had begged to be allowed to go in spiteof it. He appeared at the scout headquarters, the pavilion of a smallloc
al cricket club, on Wednesday morning.

  "I don't know much about this--more shame to me," he said, cheerfully,standing up to address the boys. "But I think we can make a go ofit--think we'll be able to do something for the Empire, boys. My oldfriend John Grenfel told me a little; he said you'd pull me through.These are war times and you'll have to do for me what many a company inthe army does for a young officer."

  They gave him a hearty cheer that was a promise in itself.

  "I can tell you I felt pretty bad when I found they wouldn't let me goto the front," he went on. "It seemed hard to have to sit back and readthe newspapers when I knew I ought to be doing some of the work. Butthen Grenfel told me about you boys, and what you meant to do, and Ifelt better. I saw that there was a chance for me to help, after all. Sohere I am. These are times when ordinary routine doesn't matter so muchyou can understand that. Grenfel put the troop at the disposal of thecommander at Ealing. And his first request was that I should send twoscouts to him at once. Franklin, I believe you are the senior patrolleader? Yes? Then I shall appoint you assistant scoutmaster, as Mr.Greene has not returned from his holiday in France. Will you suggest thenames of two scouts for this service?"

  Franklin immediately went up to the new scoutmaster, and they spoketogether quietly, while a buzz of excited talk rose among the scouts.Who would be honored by the first chance? Every scout there wanted tohear his name called.

  "I think they'll take me, for one," said Ernest Graves. He was one ofthe patrol to which both Harry Fleming and Dick Mercer belonged, and thebiggest and oldest scout of the troop, except for Leslie Franklin. Hehad felt for some time that he should be a patrol leader. Although heexcelled in games, and was unquestionably a splendid scout, Graves wasnot popular, for some reason, among his fellows. He was not exactlyunpopular, either; but there was a little resentment at his habit ofpushing himself forward.

  "I don't see why you should go more than anyone else, Graves," saidyoung Mercer. "I think they'd take the ones who are quickest. We'reprobably wanted for messenger work."

  "Well, I'm the oldest. I ought to have first chance," said Graves.

  But the discussion was ended abruptly.

  "Fleming! Mercer!" called Mr. Wharton.

  They stepped forward, their hands raised in the scout salute, awaitingthe scoutmaster's orders. "You will proceed at once, by rail, toEaling," he said. "There you will report at the barracks, handing thisnote to the officer of the guard. He will then conduct you to theadjutant or the officer in command, from whom you will take yourorders."

  "Yes, sir," said both scouts. Their eyes were afire with enthusiasm. Butas they passed toward the door, Dick Mercer's quick ears caught a sullenmurmur from Graves.

  "He's making a fine start," he heard him say to Fatty Wells, who was agreat admirer of his. "Picking out an AMERICAN! Why, we're not even surethat he'll be loyal! Did you ever hear of such a thing?"

  "You shut up!" cried Dick, fiercely, turning on Graves. "He's as loyalas anyone else! We know as much about him as we do about you, anyhow--ormore! You may be big, but when we get back I'll make you take that backor fight--"

  "Come on," said Harry, pulling Dick along with him. "You mustn't startquarreling now--it's time for all of us to stand together, Dick. I don'tcare what he says, anyhow."

  He managed to get his fiery chum outside, and they hurried along, at thescout pace, running and walking alternately, toward the West Kensingtonstation of the Underground Railway. They were in their khaki scoutuniforms, and several people turned to smile admiringly at them. Thenewspapers had already announced that the Boy Scouts had turned outunanimously to do whatever service they could, and it was a time whenwomen--and it was mostly women who were in the streets--were disposed todisplay their admiration of those who were working for the country veryfreely.

  They had little to say to one another as they hurried along; their pacewas such as to make it wise for them to save their breath. But when theyreached the station they found they had some minutes to wait for atrain, and they sat down on the platform to get their breath. They hadalready had one proof of the difference made by a state of war.

  Harry stopped at the ticket window.

  "Two-third class--for Ealing," he said, putting down the money. But theagent only smiled, having seen their uniforms.

  "On the public service?" he questioned.

  "Yes," said Harry, rather proudly.

  "Then you don't need tickets," said the agent. "Got my orders thismorning. No one in uniform has to pay. Go right through, and ridefirst-class, if you like. You'll find plenty of officers riding thatway."

  "That's fine!" said Dick. "It makes it seem as if we were really of someuse, doesn't it, Harry?"

  "Yes," answered Harry. "But, Dick, I've been thinking of what you saidto Graves. What did you mean when you told him you knew more about methan you did about him? Hasn't he lived here a long time?"

  "No, and there's a little mystery about him. Don't you know it?"

  "Never heard of such a thing, Dick. You see, I haven't been here so verylong and he was in the patrol when I joined."

  "Oh, yes, so he was! Well, I'll tell you, then. You know he's studyingto be an engineer, at the Polytechnic. And he lives at a boarding house,all by himself. Not a regular boarding house, exactly. He boards withMrs. Johnson, you know. Her husband died a year or two ago, and didn'tleave her very much money. He hasn't any father or mother, but he alwaysseems to have plenty of money. And he can play all sorts of games, buthe won't do them up right. He says he doesn't care anything aboutcricket!"

  "How old is he?"

  "Sixteen, but he's awfully big and strong."

  "He certainly is. He looks older than that, to me. Have you ever noticedanything funny about the way he talks?"

  "No. Why? Have you?"

  "I'm not sure. But sometimes it seems to me he talks more like thepeople do in a book than you and I do. I wonder why he doesn't like me?"pondered Harry.

  "Oh, he likes you as well as he does anyone, Harry. He didn't meananything, I fancy, when he said that about your being chosen just now.He was squiffed because Mr. Wharton didn't take him, that's all. Hethinks he ought to be ahead of everyone."

  "Well, I didn't ask to be chosen. I'm glad I was, of course, but Ididn't expect to be. I think perhaps Leslie Franklin asked Mr. Whartonto take me."

  "Of course he did! Why shouldn't he?"

  Just then the coming of the train cut them short. From almost everywindow men in uniform looked out. A few of the soldiers laughed at theirscout garb, but most of them only smiled gravely, and as if they werewell pleased. The two scouts made for the nearest compartment, andfound, when they were in it, that it was a first-class carriage, alreadycontaining two young officers who were smoking and chatting together.

  "Hullo, young 'uns!" said one of the officers. "Off to the war?"

  They both laughed, which Harry rather resented. "We're under orders,sir," he said, politely. "But, of course, they won't let us Scouts go tothe war."

  "Don't rag them, Cecil," said the other officer. "They're just the sortwe need. Going to Ealing, boys?"

  Harry checked Dick's impulsive answer with a quick snatch at his elbow.He looked his questioner straight in the eye.

  "We weren't told to answer any questions, sir," he said.

  Both the officers roared with laughter, but they sobered quickly, andthe one who had asked the question flushed a little.

  "I beg your pardon, my boy," he said. "The question is withdrawn. You'reperfectly right--and you're setting us an example by taking thingsseriously. This war isn't going to be a lark. But you can tell me a fewthings. You're scouts, I see. I was myself, once--before I went toSandhurst. What troop and patrol?"

  Dick told him, and the officer nodded.

  "Good work!" he said. "The scouts are going to turn out and help, he?That's splendid! There'll be work enough to go all around, never youfear."

  "If, by any chance, you should be going to Ealing Barracks," said thefirst officer, rather s
hyly, "and we should get off the train when youdo, there's no reason why you shouldn't let us drive you out, is there?We're going there, and I don't mind telling you that we've just finisheda two hour leave to go and say good-bye to--to--"

  His voice broke a little at that. In spite of his light-hearted mannerand his rather chaffing tone, he couldn't help remembering thatgood-bye. He was going to face whatever fate might come, but thoughts ofthose he might not see again could not be prevented from obtrudingthemselves.

  "Shut up, Cecil," said the other. "We've said good-bye--that's the endof it! We've got other things to think of now. Here we are!"

  The train pulled into Ealing station. Here the evidences of war and thewarlike preparations were everywhere. The platforms were full ofsoldiers, laughing, jostling one another, saluting the officers whopassed among them. And Harry, as he and Dick followed the officerstoward the gate, saw one curious thing. A sentry stood by the railwayofficial who was taking up tickets, and two or three times he stoppedand questioned civilian passengers. Two of these, moreover, he orderedinto the ticket office, where, as he went by, Harry saw an officer,seated at a desk, examining civilians.

  Ealing, as a place where many troops were quartered, was plainly verymuch under martial law. And outside the station it was even moremilitary. Soldiers were all about and automobiles were racing around,too. And there were many women and children here, to bid farewell to thesoldiers who were going--where? No one knew. That was the mystery of themorning. Everyone understood that the troops were off; that they hadtheir orders. But not even the officers themselves knew where, itseemed.

  "Here we are--here's a car!" said the officer called Cecil. "Jumpaboard, young 'uns! We know where you're going, right enough. Might aswell save some time."

  And so in a few minutes they reached the great barracks. Here the bustlethat had been so marked about the station was absent. All was quiet.They were challenged by a sentry and Harry asked for the officer of theguard. When he came he handed him Wharton's letter. They were told towait--outside. And then, in a few minutes, the officer returned, passedthem through, and turned them over to an orderly, who took them to theroom where Colonel Throckmorton, who was seemingly in charge ofimportant affairs, received them. He returned their salute, then bent arather stern gaze upon them before he spoke.