by E. J. Craine
CHAPTER XVI
MISSING
News of the shelling of Paris by the long-range gun had, of course, beenreceived at the aerodrome, though there had not, as yet, many detailscome in. Tom and Jack, as the latest arrivals from the big city, werecalled upon to tell all they knew, and they related their experiences inthe raids, and also told about the various theories of the big gun.
"But how are we going to find it?" asked. Boughton. "It's easy enough,of course, for our squadron to go out with a lot of bombs. But where arewe going to drop 'em?"
"Oh, we're to go to Paris for further instructions before starting onthe quest," said Tom, who had made some inquiries about the ordersconcerning the picked squadron.
"And they may have discovered its location by this time," added Jack."We know about where it is--somewhere in the sector between Hamegicourtand Conde. The rest ought to be easy."
"Not so easy as it sounds, my friends," put in a French flier. "I knowthat region. It is a big one; and the Germans no doubt have their gunwell camouflaged. It will not be easy."
"But we'll get it!" asserted Tom.
"Naturally," said the Frenchman, as if that was all there was to it.
Tom's wound was painful, but not dangerous, though it would keep him onthe ground for a day or two. Though, as a matter of fact, none of themembers of the picked squadron was allowed to go aloft after the orderscame detailing them for work in connection with the monster cannon.Their places were taken by others who were sent for, some being newfliers who were burning to make a name for themselves.
Besides Tom and Jack, in the picked squadron there were Boughton,another American, Cerfe and Tierse, two intrepid Frenchmen, and Haught,an Englishman, who insisted, but with little success, that his name bepronounced as though spelled "Hoo."
These six were to be depended on to find and destroy the Germancannon--all of them if there were more than one, as was likely. And tothis picked squadron other members would be added as need arose. All sixwere skillful fliers, and brave men of the air, as may easily beguessed. They were to use whatever type of machine they liked best--thesingle seaters, the great bombing planes, and, it was even said, one ofthe immense Italian fliers. This last was a craft capable of carryingseveral men and a quantity of supplies and ammunition.
Very soon, then, Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly were on their way to Parisagain, accompanied by their comrades, and all would soon be engaged inthe difficult and perilous task of finding the new German long-rangecannon.
"I suppose you'll make another attempt to find your father?" suggestedJack to his chum, as they rode in on the train.
"Indeed I shall, if I have time. I can't understand why I haven't hadsome word before this. There are several possible reasons, of course. Ifit wasn't that we know he got to Rue Lafayette I'd say his ship had beensunk 'without a trace,' as the Germans ordered in other cases. But, ofcourse, he safely reached this side. Then he just seems to have droppedout of sight, for I can't believe he was killed when the shell from thebig gun hit the house where he had taken lodging. He may have found itadvisable to return home at once, for some reason, and didn't have achance to leave any word for me, or send me any message. And perhaps hehasn't got back to America yet. Then, too, he may be in Germany, aprisoner."
"Let us hope not," said Jack, softly, and Tom echoed the wish.
Much as he wished he could devote some time to the search for hisfather, Tom realized that he was working under military orders, and,however dear his father was to him, the sacrifice of his personalaffairs must be made. He knew he would only have time to make some briefinquiries, and then he and Jack must go with the squadron to theheadquarters assigned to it, as near the location of the big German gunas possible, and there try to silence it.
The train the picked squadron was traveling on was late, and it was duskwhen they alighted at the railroad station.
"Think we'll have a chance to see anything of the bombardment?" askedBoughton.
"I was going to say I hoped not," answered Tom, "for I wish the beastlygun, or guns, would blow up. But that would take away our chance to pot'em, and I know we all want to do that. You may see something, thoughthey don't bombard at night as often as they do by day. Of late,however, before we left, the night firing was more frequent. Possiblythey have found some means of hiding the gun flashes or of letting themmingle with others along a line so the exact location of the big Berthais a matter of doubt."
As they alighted from the train, and were about to seek some taxicabs totake them to lodgings that had been assigned them, they all became awareof the fact that something unusual was going on. Suddenly the electriclights went out, leaving the region about the station, and indeed all ofParis, in comparative darkness.
At the same time a motor fire engine rushed screeching through thestreets, giving an alarm.
"What is it?" cried Boughton. "Is the big gun firing?"
"It's a Zeppelin raid! I was here once before when they had one," saidthe Englishman coolly. "Mind your heads, boys. Just our rotten luck notto have a machine to go up after it."
He hurried out into the open street where he could have a view of thesky, and the others followed. There was more excitement than during thebombardment of the big gun. People were rushing here and there in searchof safe places, and taxicabs, with their lamps like fireflies in thedarkness, were skidding hither and yon, their horns calling for a clearway.
Suddenly there was a muffled roar, at some distance off. This wasfollowed by a hoarse murmur, as though a burst of rage from many throatsat the unspeakable outrage of the Huns in killing women and children.
At the same time the anti-aircraft guns, with which Paris is soefficiently guarded, began to bark and to send their red flashes outinto the blackness of the night. They were shooting at the Zeppelin, asyet unseen by the men of the picked squadron, and the gunners aimedaccording to instructions sent them by wireless from scouts hovering inthe air above the city.
As soon as word comes from the front, about eighty miles from Paris,that a Zeppelin is on its way to raid, an elaborate system of defense isput into operation. There are some airmen above Paris all the while,frequently as many as forty on sentry duty. But when word comes of aZeppelin raid the whole squadron, numbering close to three hundred, goesaloft. By their searchlights, aided by those on the surface, thesefliers endeavor to pick up the German machine, and, too, they endeavorto get near enough to attack it.
This was what was now going on. Pandemonium appeared let loose, and theexplosion of the German bombs, mingling with the noise of the Frenchguns, made Paris seem like a battlefield. Occasionally could be heard,when the guns were silenced for a moment, the roar of the many aeroplanemotors aloft.
The Zeppelin seemed to be over a section of Paris near the Tuileries,judging by the bursts of light in that direction. Tom, Jack, and theirfriends wished with all their hearts that they might take a hand in thedefense, but it was not to be. For perhaps half an hour theanti-aircraft guns roared out their defiance to the Hun, and then alarge flare of gasolene was lighted in a public square.
This was a signal for the aeroplanes to return, for the Zeppelin hadleft, either because she found the situation too perilous for her, orbecause she had used up all her bombs.
The lights were turned on again, and the new arrivals watched theaeroplanes returning one by one, being recognized by their lights in theair as they moved about like gigantic illuminated insects.
"Well, that's some excitement," observed Tom, as he and the othersfinally succeeded in getting cabs, and started for their destination. "Ihope no one was killed."
But the bombs of the inhuman Huns had found several marks, and while theharm from a military standpoint was small, a number of persons had beenkilled. Some damage had been inflicted on the Zeppelin, it was saidlater, one brave airman saying he got near enough to spray some bulletsinto one of the cabins where a crowd of officers and men were workingthe machine.
"We will be with you a little later," said Tom to the other m
embers ofthe squadron, as, having reached their lodgings, the two chums set out.
"Where are you going?"
"To call on some ladies," answered Jack, for he and Tom had planned tosee Bessie and her mother.
They reached their own former stopping place, to which they had beensent by Major de Trouville, but when they inquired for the Gleasons thelandlady, who remembered the boys, stared at them in surprise, and said:
"Why, Madam Gleason and her daughter are not here! They went out thismorning to meet you, and have not come back!"
"To meet us?" gasped Jack.
"Yes, in answer to your note bidding them do so!"
