Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line; Or, With the Allies in France

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER VII.

  CLOSE TO THE FIRING LINE.

  "You're right about it, Hanky Panky!" announced Rod, after he had takena good look aloft, and recognized some of the familiar featuresdistinguishing the Taube aeroplanes used almost exclusively at thatearly stage of the war by the German military forces.

  "It's snooping around getting information so's to help Von Kluck strikethe Allies where they don't expect him, most likely!" the boy in therear called out.

  "Mebbe not," said Josh stoutly; "for all we know old Von may have puthis fingers in the trap laid by wily General Joffre, and what he wantsto do now is to find a way to draw out again."

  Whether Josh really believed all he said or not was an open question,but at any rate it was in his heart to stand up staunchly for the Frenchand English, whatever came to pass. He had seen that vast German hordeoverrun poor Belgium, and he was praying they might meet an obstaclewhen they finally ran up against the whole Allied army, standing beforeParis, and determined to do or die there.

  They cast many a glance upward as they continued to move along. Theaeroplane did not seem to be disturbed, as far as they could make out.If there were French birdmen in the vicinity they had other work cut outfor them besides chasing a hostile flier. Possibly they were over thefighting armies, finding out valuable statistics for the use of theFrench commanders, and which might affect the ultimate outcome of thebattle.

  All doubt concerning their being in the vicinity of the field ofgigantic operations was by this time removed. The roar of guns had kepton growing more and more intense. Besides, it was easy for them to makesure that what Hanky Panky had suggested as a threatening summer stormcloud was in reality smoke from artillery and burning cottages along theline of Von Kluck's advance.

  Once they had to stop and get on one side of the road in order to permitthe passage of a convoy of motor lorries loaded with wounded men. Theboys noticed that some of these wore the khaki of British soldiers,which seemed to prove that a portion of General French's little armyfrom across the Channel must be valiantly holding a part of the thinline against the furious rushes of the disciplined German troops.

  The three boys took off their hats and waved them heartily as theprocession of trucks passed by. Some of the wounded answered themlustily, showing that their spirit had not been in the least quenched bytheir hard luck in getting in the way of hostile missiles.

  Josh was burning with a feverish desire to be moving again.

  "Why, judging from that," he told the others excitedly, as the last ofthe sad procession passed them by, heading possibly for some French townwhere a hospital had beds ready against their coming, "we must be almostin the riot by now. Listen to how the guns keep up that whoop, will you?I'll bet you they're not more'n five miles away from here! Rod, can't wepush right along?"

  Rod, however, realized that they must now begin to exercise a great dealof caution. No matter which side they happened to come upon, there was afair chance of the three boys being held up, and not permitted to go anyfurther.

  "Keep on the lookout for some hill or other elevation, where we can geta good view of the neighborhood!" he told them, remembering formeroccasions when they had adopted a similar method for seeing operations.

  It was late in the day by now. They had come at a tremendous pace overscores and scores of miles, since that start at six o'clock in themorning. Along about two in the afternoon Josh had declared that hiscyclometer was marking the hundred-and-fifty mark since beginning theday's run, which was a pretty good spin, all things considered.

  Thanks to the excellent French highways, and the fact that they had metwith no accident to detain them, this record could be hung up as one ofwhich any fellow might be proud.

  It would be utterly impossible to describe all they saw while on thatwonderful day's run. Each of the boys had secured a little Frenchtri-color, and this flag they took pride in attaching to their machines.It aroused the greatest enthusiasm all along the road. In every townthey passed through they were taken for some new type of native soldiersmounted on motorcycles. That they did not carry any guns may haveoccasioned more or less surprise; but then doubtless they had othermethods for destroying the rash invaders when the time came; small butpowerful bombs would take up little space in a knapsack, every one knew.

  In the country sections where the neat French market gardenspredominated they had found the women working amidst the crops, and fewmen in evidence. Of course those of a military age were already calledto the colors, and at that moment might be laying their lives downcheerfully in defence of their beloved land; for their old hatred ofeverything German had once more leaped to the surface as soon as war wasdeclared.

  Rod was trying to figure out what his course should be under thecircumstances. He knew how difficult it must prove for them to reach aplace where they could observe any of the desperate fighting. The bestthey might expect would be to see some detached action, and possiblylearn where the French regiment might be found to which Andre belonged.

  As they proceeded slowly along the road, after watching the processionof motor lorries loaded with wounded wind past, all of them were usingtheir eyes to the best advantage.

  The country was hilly to the north of Paris, Rod knew, with many roadscrossing in every direction. At any time they might expect to discoversome movement of troops belonging to one of the armies engaged.

  This came to pass shortly afterwards, and when they found that it was aBritish regiment that was crossing a field on the double-quick, withguns ready for business, the boys sent up a real American cheer.

  "There, they've come to a halt, somehow or other!" said Josh, "andlisten to the fellows send back an answering cheer, will you? Guess theymust take us for some of their boys from over the Channel. Here comes anofficer on horseback to interview us, Rod."

  Great was the surprise of the British colonel to find that they were notEnglish boys at all, but cousins from the great republic across theocean. He asked many questions while his men rested before continuingtheir movement, which was undoubtedly meant to carry out some purpose orother.

  One startling piece of information he gave the three motorcycle boys.

  "The Germans have shot their bolt, and are retreating!" was what hedeclared in his hearty British way. "Von Kluck meant to take Paris bysurprise from the northwest, but he made a terrible mistake and left hisflank uncovered. It was threatened by our British troops, as well as bya new army that came out of Paris, sent by General Gallieni, thecommander of the city. There was nothing to be done but swing in a halfcircle past Paris without coming within cannon shot of the forts. We arenow about to strike with all our force, and beat him back on the Marne.Paris is saved for the time being!"

  This was the amazing news that thrilled the three boys through andthrough. In their minds it meant that the German tide had alreadyreached its flood stage; and that from the hour Von Kluck changed hisplans with regard to attacking the forts defending Paris the campaign ofinvasion was fated to meet with its Waterloo.

  Josh actually shouted aloud to show his glee, nor did the grim Britishofficer consider this any discourtesy. He himself was feeling in muchthe same humor, for victory was already in the air for the Allies, andhe knew what that would mean for the future of the whole of Europe.

  After a very pleasant and interesting chat the three boys again mountedtheir machines, and set out. They had been warned by the accommodatingofficer that they might run into a nest of the enemy at almost any timenow, for detachments of the Germans were raiding the country, trying toinspire a reign of terror among the inhabitants.

  "If they can catch us," the confident Josh had remarked in his customaryboastful fashion, "they'll be welcome to our mounts. All the same wedon't mean to let ourselves be taken off our guard. To be made prisonersjust now would upset all our lovely plans, you see, Colonel. But it'sawful kind of you to give us the tip, and make sure we appreciate it."

  Shortly afterwards Rod announced that there was something of a hillahead, and once
they had managed to reach the crown they might find achance to take an observation that would prove profitable to them.

  "Drive ahead, then," chirped Josh, always willing to do anything thatcame along, especially when it promised fresh excitement; possibly hewas hoping that from the top of the low elevation they would be able tosee many stirring dramas connected with the great battle that was nowopening, and which must seal the fate of the French capital, one way orthe other.

  "I'm going to slow up first," observed the cautious leader; "because wedon't know what we may run on at the top of that hill. It'd be rough onus to suddenly come face to face with a whole battalion of Germans,advancing up the other side, and reaching the crown just at the sametime we did."

  "Rod, you're right there!" Josh was heard to call out almost instantly;"look up where we're heading, and you'll see the Germans have got thereeven before we did!"

  All of them came to a sudden halt, and dropped off their motorcycles ina desperate hurry.