Air Service Boys Over the Enemy's Lines; Or, The German Spy's Secret

by E. J. Craine

  CHAPTER XX

  JACK CLIMBS A WALL

  "What luck we're in to be here, Tom!" murmured Jack.

  Carl Potzfeldt had again entered the house and closed the door; and theair service boys could no longer hear the car speeding along the road.Jack was quivering all over with excitement. The events that had justcome to their attention filled him with a sensation of wonderapproaching awe.

  "It certainly is strange how we've stumbled on this nest of spies,"admitted Tom.

  "And the paper he gave the captain--it must have been a message incipher that an incoming pigeon brought from back of our lines, eh, Tom?"

  "I guess it was, Jack. We could see it was only a small scrap of paper,thin paper at that; but both of them handled it as if it were prettyvaluable."

  Jack was chuckling, such a queer proceeding that Tom could not helpnoticing it, and commenting on it.

  "What's struck you as funny now?" he asked, puzzled to account for thissudden freak on the part of his companion.

  "I was wondering," explained Jack, "whether that mightn't be thedoctored message we believed our commander meant to send through sometime or other with one of the pigeons we got that day we went hunting."

  "That's possible," Tom agreed, also amused at the thought. "But then,whether it is or not, it means nothing to us, you understand. We arehere, and must decide on our movements. If that was a bogus message, andwill coax the Germans to make an attack at a certain place where a traphas been laid, that's their lookout."

  "Somewhere about here must be the pigeon loft where those homing birdshave been bred," suggested Jack, following up a train of thought.

  "Yes, it may be on the flat roof of the chateau, or in the barn at therear," Tom admitted. "One thing is certain, they know only this place ashome; and wherever they're set free their first instinct is to strike abee-line for here. Some people are so foolish as to fancy homers can besent anywhere; but that's silly. It's only home that they're able tohead straight toward, even if hundreds of miles away."

  "Oh Tom! how about Bessie?" inquired Jack eagerly.

  His chum considered, while he rubbed his chin with thumb and finger in athoughtful way he had when a little puzzled.

  "It might be done in a pinch," he finally muttered.

  "What, Tom?"

  "She's such a little mite that her weight wouldn't amount to much, ifonly she had the nerve to do it, Jack."

  "Do you mean that you'd be willing to carry Bessie off with us? To helpher escape from her guardian? I'm sure he must be treating her badly, orelse she wouldn't be sobbing her poor little heart out, as we heardher."

  "That would have to depend a whole lot on Bessie."

  "As far as that goes I know she's a gritty little person," Jackinstantly remarked. "Many times she said to me she wished she were a boyso that she might also learn to fly and fight for France against thedetested Kaiser. Why, she even told me she had gone up with an aviatorwho exhibited down at a Florida resort, one having a hydro-airplane inwhich he took people up. And Bessie declared she didn't have the leastfear."

  "That sounds good to me, Jack."

  "Then let's get busy, and try to let her know we're here," continuedJack.

  "First of all, we'll get under the open window where she must have beenstanding at the time we heard her crying. I think I saw a movement upthere while the two men were conversing on the porch. Perhaps Bessie waslistening to what they said."

  Tom's words gave his chum a new thought.

  "Oh, it would certainly be just like Bessie to do it! She seemed to befull of clever ideas."

  Tom, being mystified by such words, he naturally sought furtherinformation.

  "What would she do?" he demanded.

  "Send me that mysterious message by the little hot-air balloon," Jackannounced with a vein of pride in his voice, feeling delighted overhaving solved the puzzle that had baffled him for so long.

  "It hardly seems probable," Tom answered softly. "At the same time itisn't altogether impossible."

  "How far are we from the French front, do you think, Tom?" pursued hiscomrade, determined to sift the whole thing out.

  "Twenty miles or so, I should imagine."

  "That isn't very far. Once I caught just such a little balloon in a treein our yard that had a tag on it, telling that it had been set free in avillage that lay _seventy_ miles off. The wind had carried it alongfuriously, so that it covered all that distance before losing buoyancy,and coming down in the heavy night air."

  "Yes, I know of other circumstances where such balloons have traveledlong distances before falling. Then again, Jack, this valley extendspretty much all the way to the Verdun front, and the current of airwould carry a balloon along directly toward our home patch."

  "Oh, Bessie sent it, believe me!" asserted Jack again, more confidentlythan ever. "And she'll tell us so too, when she gets the chance."

  Thus whispering the air service boys arrived at that side of the housewhere the lighted window on the second floor seemed to indicate that theobject of their present concern could be found.

  Tom examined the building as well as the limited amount of lightallowed. He could easily see that any agile young fellow, himself orJack for instance, might scale the wall, making use of some projections,and a cement flower trellis as well, in carrying out the project.

  "We might throw pebbles up, and bring her to the window," he suggested,though pretty confident at the time Jack would find fault with such anarrangement.

  "That wouldn't help her get down here to us, Tom," protested the other."And that's what we're planning, you remember; for you said she couldaccompany us if she felt equal to it. I must go up myself and helpBessie get down. There's nothing else to do, Tom."

  It looked very much as though Jack was right. Tom admitted this tohimself; at the same time he wished there were some other way by meansof which the same end could be gained, or that he could undertake thething, instead of his comrade.

  But to this Jack would never agree. Bessie was his own particularfriend; and they had been most "chummy" while aboard the Atlantic linercrossing the submarine infested ocean. Then again that warning had beenaddressed to him, and not to both, showing that the writer had only beenconcerned about the danger he, Jack, was running, should his plane betampered with by some emissary of Carl Potzfeldt.

  "All right then; you go, Jack! But be careful about your footing. If youfell it'd be a bad thing in many ways, for even if you escaped a brokenneck or a fractured leg you'd arouse the house, and all sorts of troublewould drop down on us in a hurry."

  "Don't worry about me, Tom. I'll show you I'm as nimble as any monkey.Besides, that isn't much of a climb. Why, I could nearly do it with onearm tied fast."

  "Go to it!" Tom told him, settling back to watch the performance andgive whispered advice if it seemed necessary.

  Jack waited no longer. He was wild to find himself once more face toface with the pretty young girl in whom he had taken such an interest.Her recent sobs and cries still haunted his heart, and he felt certainshe must be in great sorrow over something.

  He commenced climbing. While his boast about being equal to any monkeythat ever lived among the treetops may have been a bit of anexaggeration, all the same Jack was a very good athlete, and especiallywith regard to feats on the parallel bars or the ladders in a gymnasium.

  He made his way nimbly upward, with Tom's eyes following every movement.It seemed an easy task for the climber. Just what he would discover whenhe had gained the open window was another question.

  The light still remained, for which both boys felt glad. It affordedJack a goal which he was striving to gain; and it told Tom further downthat the inmate of the upper room was awake and still moving about,though her sobs had ceased.

  Once Tom fancied he heard something stirring back of the house. He hopedit might not prove to be a servant attached to the Potzfeldt place or anattendant who had charge of the pigeon loft.

  Jack was almost up now. He had only to cover another yar
d of space whenhe could look into the room of the lighted window. That was where freshperil must lie, because his figure would be outlined in silhouette, andany one moving about the grounds might discover that uninvited guestshad arrived.

  Tom wished he had told his chum to insist that the light be immediatelyextinguished, if, as they believed, it proved to be Bessie who occupiedthat room. He hoped his chum would think of it without being told.

  There! At last Jack had arrived, and without accident! Now he wascautiously thrusting his head up a little, to peer within.

  Tom held his breath. So much depended on what would follow Jack'sbetrayal of his presence.

  "Tell her to put out the light, first of all, Jack!" Tom gently calledout, using both hands as a megaphone to carry the sounds.

  It seemed that he must have been heard, and his directions understood,for immediately there was another movement above, after which theillumination ceased, as though Bessie had blown out the lamp.

  Tom breathed easier, though he still continued to look, and wonder howhis chum was going to get the girl safely down from her elevatedapartment. Jack was not so fertile in expedients as his chum, and manytimes depended on Tom to suggest ways and means.

  While Tom was still waiting, and hoping for the best, he heard hiscomrade whisper down to him as he hung suspended, clutching the sill ofthe open window.

  "After all, you'll have to come up too, Tom," he was saying feverishly."There are complications that'll need your judgment, knots to untanglethat are beyond me."