Air Service Boys Flying For Victory - BestLightNovel.com
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"Still a blaze up there, Tom, showing that the conference isn't over yet."
Presently Tom straightened up.
"That is all done," he announced, in a satisfied tone. "And done well in the bargain. Now bring along your gas, and be careful how you pour it in. By good luck I've got a funnel that can be used. I'll hold it while you start things going, Jack. Easy now, no hurry; every drop is precious remember!"
The contents of the little pail was presently successfully transferred into the reservoir which Tom had so adroitly mended after its rough treatment at the hands of the Huns who worked the "Archies," or anti-aircraft guns.
Tom gave a sigh of relief when that part of the proceeding was finished.
He had entertained a little fear that Jack, in his haste to get things over with, might spill the precious fluid on which so much depended.
Afterwards Tom examined for himself, and was satisfied.
"Not a sign of a leak yet, and there isn't going to be either," he told his companion, not exultantly, but nevertheless with confidence that a belief in the staying qualities of his own work justified.
"Now we can get going on the second part of our programme," Jack returned, as he once more cast a steady look toward the height on which the chateau stood.
"No need of staying here another minute, Jack. n.o.body knows just what's going on over there, or how long those visitors mean to stay."
"All the same," the other air service boy mentioned, as if casually, "General von Berthold is giving his guests a regular jolly time of it.
In these days of war I reckon the Huns are missing pretty much all their favorite drinks, and when they do strike a cellar full--and I guess they have it here--it's like drawing teeth to pry them loose. Listen, don't you hear them at it now?"
Indeed, it would have been impossible for any one with ordinary hearing, when within half a mile of the chateau, not to have heard what Jack referred to. Some one was singing at the top of his voice, and a heavy voice he had in the bargain. He kept time with the rhythm of his song by repeated poundings on a table with what might have been a stein.
"Well, what nerve!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jack. "It's the _Watch on the Rhine_ he's trolling, as sure as you live!"
"And with the whole bunch joining in the chorus in the bargain," added Tom, as the burst of singing suddenly grew stronger in volume. "They utterly refuse to believe they're whipped flat, even with the Americans ready to step over into Germany and mop 'em up all the way to Berlin."
"Huh!" snorted Jack disdainfully, "we'll soon be the ones keeping watch on the Rhine, see if we'll not. Only sillies with their wits flabbergasted by pride would shut their eyes to the handwriting on the wall. But I'm not sorry, for if they keep on enjoying themselves in that way we'll find it an easy job to roam all over the old shack, looking for Helene."
They were walking briskly along while exchanging these remarks in guarded tones. Greatly to their satisfaction they met no one while on the road. They had both wondered whether General von Berthold did not have a bodyguard camped somewhere near his headquarters, some of whom were likely to be moving about; though, to be sure, the hour was late for that sort of thing.
When they arrived at the scene of their previous escapade it was to find that one of the military chauffeurs had returned, and was even then taking a look at the engine of his car, for he struck several matches, and was thrusting his head down close to the machinery.
They halted to watch. A minute afterwards he tidied things up again, and Jack, hearing his loud yawn, decided he could not have discovered that some one had been meddling with his petrol supply.
Then the soldier vanished inside his big car, as though to find a comfortable seat, if his masters chose to linger an hour longer in celebrating with General von Berthold.
Tom led the way around, now approaching the building from an angle where they would be screened from the observation of the driver, did he chance to have his eyes open. They also took care to be ready to duck and lie low, in case the other chauffeur came from the back of the chateau.
But nothing happened to endanger them, and presently they were seeking a means of entering the castle. This proved the easiest thing possible, for there were no locks or bars attached to the door they tried. Once this barrier had been pa.s.sed, they found themselves in a great hall, just such as Jack had always believed, from his reading, must be connected with every such old-time castle.
A light burned low. It was in itself a quaint lamp, and at another time the boys might have found themselves very much interested in it as a relic of times long since past.
Of course there could be no system of modern lighting in use at such an isolated habitation. Besides, electricity would have seemed sadly out of place in connection with so much that belonged to bygone days.
The tall lamp on the newel post at the foot of the broad stairway gave enough light to show one where to walk; and just then the two prowlers asked for nothing more.
Over to the right lay the wing that had not suffered from the work of the Hun despoiler. It was there the German general entertained his a.s.sociates, discussing business until a late hour; and then giving themselves up to a little social enjoyment, which evidently became so pleasant that it was hard to break away.
The boys decided that since this wing was the only decent part of the building remaining, they were apt to find the object of their search in one of the many rooms it contained.
Having no guide to a.s.sist them, they must make a thorough search, neglecting no possible room where the little girl might be sleeping.
Of course their dodging about the corridors would be accompanied by more or less danger of discovery. There must be attendants moving about, for the Hun general would not inhabit this chateau unless he could have subordinates at his beck and call.
Once let any of these see strangers moving about with the air of spies--well, Jack imagined it would be nip and tuck with them as to whether they would be shot down like rats, get away by a close shave, or fall into the hands of the Huns, which last, he felt, would be the very worst fate that could befall them.
"It's upstairs for us, Jack." And with these words Tom led the way, headed for the upper floors of the chateau, even as a door opened and they heard a wild gust of uproarious chorus echo along the corridor leading to the dining hall in the right wing.
CHAPTER XXII
INVADING THE TIGER'S DEN
TOM, just as soon as they had entered the great hall, had fixed his eyes on several old-time figures that stood in niches, each representing some period of the history of early France and showing the type of armor worn by the fighting knights of those days.
"Hide behind that knight there! Quick, Jack!" he now hissed into the ear of his comrade.
Jack understood.
As quick as a flash both of the air service boys shot toward their separate goals. Shuffling footsteps sounded that told of some one coming; but thanks to the swiftness of their movements the boys managed to conceal themselves in time.
Peeping out from behind the coats of chained mail that screened them Jack and Tom fastened their eyes on the advancing figure. Just as they expected, it proved to be a soldier who had the task of serving while the general was celebrating with his friends and fellow officers.
He was carrying a tray on which were several empty bottles, and it could be easily guessed that the soldier had been sent for a further supply of wine from the cellar below.
They could hear him mumbling to himself, as though not very happy, despite his opportunities to tilt the bottles up and drain the last drop left in each. This he was doing now as the boys watched, but continuing to mutter.
Then they saw him draw his sleeve across his face, and when he took it down to the astonishment of the watchers there were streaks of blood marking both cheeks and nose. Evidently General von Berthold was considerable of a bully and tyrant when in his cups, even as he may have been a severe martinet when on duty.
Jack ground his teeth at seeing this exhibition of pettiness on the part of the general. He had heard more than once that German officers, from sub-lieutenants upward, were terribly severe with their men, treating them brutally, and acting as though they were themselves of a superior cla.s.s; but this was the first time he had actually come in contact with anything of the kind.
"What fools!" Jack muttered to himself. "Why can't they take a lesson from Russia, where the people have risen and put ever so many of their former officers to death. And Russian commanders were gentle beside these domineering brutes. But they'll get their dose some day before long, that's as sure as fate. And poor little Helene!" Jack's heart was heavy as he thought of his little protege's sister.
The man picked up his tray again and went stumbling along the hall, still muttering, then chuckling half hysterically, as though some pleasant thought had flashed across his mind. Jack imagined he must be antic.i.p.ating a day of reckoning that was coming--a day when old scores would be wiped out and the slate be made clean for a new deal.
More than ever Jack was determined that little Helene should not be left in the charge of such an ill-tempered man. If General von Berthold could show such spleen because his man servant displeased him slightly he was apt to treat a child cruelly.
But the coast being clear, Tom issued forth and beckoned to his companion to come along. They hastened up the broad stairs of the chateau, reaching the second floor without mishap.
Here they found a maze of pa.s.sages that would have puzzled any one lacking the ability Tom possessed for solving riddles.
"Which way next?" Jack whispered in dismay, as he turned from one to another of the various pa.s.sageways branching off from the main hall.
"Always keep to the right," answered his companion. "Remember that wing is the only one saved from the wreck."