Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Firing Line Part 9

"That's right," said Mr. Snodgra.s.s. "The winning of the war is the first consideration. I wish I were young enough to fight. But I have contributed to the Red Cross, to the Salvation Army, the Knights of Columbus and the Y. M. C. A. and the Y. W. C. A.; and I've mailed every magazine I finished reading and sent over all the books I could spare."

The boys winked at one another. They gave full credit to Professor Snodgra.s.s for his contributions to the five organizations, which, with the Jewish Welfare League, did so much to help win the war.

"But if the boys in camp over there had to depend for reading on the dry, scientific magazines and books the professor sent them they'd be hard put," commented Jerry to his chums, afterward.

"Well, we're moving, anyhow," observed Bob, as he and the others noticed that tugs were backing the transport out into the river. "Now that we're under way, don't you think we'd better go and see about----"

"Grub!" finished Jerry, fairly taking the word out of Chunky's mouth.

The stout lad glared a moment, and then said:

"Well, yes, grub! Why not? We have to eat, don't we?"

"You said it, Bob!" exclaimed Ned. "Go to it!"

But the boys found they need not have worried about the matter of eating or sleeping. Competent hands had the comfort of the soldiers in charge and there was nothing lacking that could be obtained. They were taken in charge by officers, divided into squads, a.s.signed to certain lifeboats, and told where to report when an alarm for a submarine attack, real or simulated, was sounded.

Professor Snodgra.s.s told how he had secured permission to come aboard the transport with his friends, the young soldiers--no easy matter--and how he had been designated as a "correspondent," though Jerry Hopkins, on hearing this, remarked:

"I suppose if he did send any news it would be to the _Bug Hunter's Review_, describing the life of an insect on an army transport."

"Very likely," agreed Ned.

And so, amid the blaring whistle salutes of river craft, the former German liner dropped down the bay and started for France with the young soldiers who were to do their part in ending barbarous militarism forever.

It was not exactly a gay trip. There were many who were seasick in spite of the calm weather, and there was little to do on board. Only a few books were available to read, and these were in constant use.

Aside from lifeboat drill there was little to occupy the boys.

But there was always the fear of a submarine attack when they should reach the infested zone, and the boys looked forward to this as something that would relieve the monotony.

There was a gun crew on the transport--several of them, in fact--and the troop s.h.i.+ps were escorted by war vessels and the swift, snake-like destroyers, which moved with such remarkable speed.

One day, after the usual lifeboat drill, which was held at different hours each day so that none would suspect when it was coming, the three chums were standing near the forward gun, rather idly scanning the water. The night had been a dreary one, cooped up as they were in the darkness, for now that they were approaching the danger zone, all but the most necessary lights were dimmed.

Up above, and on various parts of the deck, were the lookouts, scanning with strained and eager eyes the expanse of water ahead of them for a sight of the white wake that would indicate a periscope, or, perchance, hoping to see the wet, glistening sides of a "steel fish" itself, as it broke water before sending the deadly torpedo.

"Well, boys, how goes it?" asked a voice behind the three chums, and they recognized Professor Snodgra.s.s.

As Jerry turned to speak to him, having finished a remark in which he had speculated as to what had become of Noddy Nixon, who was not on board, one of the men cried:

"What's that?"

He pointed to a spot about two points off the port bow, and Ned, Bob and Jerry, as well as several others, distinctly saw a little commotion in the water.

"A sub, as sure as you're a foot high!" cried a marine, just as a bugle call to quarters was blown, for a lookout, too, had observed the disturbance in the water.

Instantly the gun crew was in action, and several shots were fired from the bow gun. The reports had hardly ceased echoing when some remarkable activity was displayed, not only aboard the transport, but on the part of the convoying squadron.

As the sh.e.l.ls splashed into the sea near the spot where the commotion had been observed, there were smudges of black smoke at several points on either side of the troops.h.i.+p. These were the funnels of the destroyers belching out clouds of vapor that told of their approach under forced draught. And as the other guns on the transport awoke and began firing on the suspected submarine, up came racing the swift craft, the men on board eagerly looking for a target.

Then their big guns got into action, and for a time the sea in the vicinity of the suspected place was churned by exploding sh.e.l.ls, while one destroyer, the fastest of the flotilla, shot right over the place where the lookout thought he had seen a periscope, and dropped two depth bombs that added further to the churning of Neptune's element.

Meanwhile, for the second occasion in a short time, lifeboat stations were sounded, and the soldiers, donning their life preservers, took their places to await what might follow--possibly, an order to abandon s.h.i.+p after she had been struck by a torpedo.

But this contingency did not arise. The destroyers swarmed around the transport, seeking in vain for something substantial on which to expend their ammunition, and then the scare was over.

And whether it was only a scare, or whether a real submarine had shown her periscope and then dived before sending a torpedo, could, of course, only be surmised. But no chances were being taken, and the transport on which the Cresville boys traveled was not the only one of the American Expeditionary Forces that believed itself the object of a frustrated attack.

"If that was a sub, it came out pretty far to meet us," observed Jerry, when the excitement had died away and they were at ease once more.

"No telling where they'll be found," said a noncommissioned officer.

"If that had been one I believe we'd have got her, though."

"Surest thing you know!" declared Ned Slade emphatically.

This was the only incident that marked the pa.s.sage. Of course, at various times, especially during the nights, the lookouts may have imagined they saw the wake of a periscope or a torpedo, but there was no general alarm.

And finally, after what really was a tiresome voyage, and one the end of which was welcomed by all, the transport docked at a certain port in France, and Ned, Bob and Jerry were able, with their water-weary comrades, to go ash.o.r.e.

"Here at last!" murmured Jerry, as he and his chums sought their own company.

"And where are the Huns we're going to fight?" asked Bob, looking around at the strange scenes.

"Oh, we won't see them right away," returned Ned. "It'll be more training camp for ours for a while. But we'll see real fighting soon enough. Don't worry."

"It can't come any too soon for me, Buddy!" exclaimed a tall, Southern lad, with whom the Motor Boys had become chummy at Camp Dixton. "Lead me to it!"

But there was much to be done before this would occur. After the boys had disembarked they were inspected, roll was called, and then they were told to march to a designated depot, there to eat and be fitted out for a march to the French village where they were to be billeted until sent to a training camp.

Professor Snodgra.s.s could not, of course, stay with the army boys, but he announced that he would follow them as closely as possible, and keep in communication with them. As soon as might be he would arrange to begin the search for the two missing girls.

Not all that Ned, Bob and Jerry had read of the gigantic work undertaken to fit out and maintain the American armies in France prepared them for what they saw. The port where the transport docked had been transformed. Great storehouses and warehouses were erected.

Whole railway systems had been built, with the American locomotives replacing the diminutive French ones. And the French population and army representatives were as much surprised at the initiative and wonderful progress of the American forces as were the new recruits themselves.

"Say, we're going into this war with both feet!" exclaimed Jerry admiringly.

"That's the only way to do it," said Ned. "The harder we go at it the sooner it will be over."

They had their "chow," and even Bob admitted that it was "mighty good," and, as you know, he was a connoisseur.

Then, with their comrades, the three Motor Boys marched to the place where they were to spend the night before going to the training camp.

This was a small French village, and its quaint beauty, unspoiled by the Germans, was very attractive to the sea-weary soldiers.

Ned, Bob and Jerry were billeted with five others at a French farmhouse, where they were given beds in the attic. The "beds" were only piles of clean straw, but the lads were delighted with them after their close bunks on the s.h.i.+p.

"I can roll over now without falling out," said Ned, with a sigh of comfort as he stretched out.

They drew their rations the following morning, and breakfasted most heartily, if not luxuriously, and were ready for what the day held for them. This was nothing else than a journey to their training camp, which, they learned, was some miles behind the front lines where the fighting was going on.