Our Pilots in the Air Part 8

If Byers says anything, give him to understand you are in it from the word go, but no more. We'll win out again. Hear me?"

For reply, Erwin shook his released fingers, regarded Blaine with mock reproach, and volunteered:

"I'll agree to everything after that grip, I'm with you to the death.

But don't do that again."

Blaine laughed gleefully as he turned away, patting Orris on the shoulder approvingly.

"I always thought you were a sticker, Orry."

"That's better 'n being a slicker or a slacker, isn't it?"

Again the big fellow laughed as he hurried off towards the Captain's quarters at the far end of the grounds.

The day pa.s.sed quietly. From time to time, Blaine held private conferences with various members of the flying squad. These were mostly Americans who had either served a year or two at the western front, or were more recent arrival who had joined because of special apt.i.tude for flying.

During the day sundry scouts penetrated here and there over the enemy lines and their report were favorable for the plan Blaine had in mind.

A risky plan, yet promising well if skillfully carried out.

Towards night he had a last conference with Byers, who had more than hesitated over the proposed program, yet gave in before the Sergeant's enthusiasms.

"I agree," said the commander. "But it is risky. It can be done. Yet whether you are the man to do it -- well, we'll know in the morning.

Do your best. Be prudent; not too prudent; but at the same time try to be wise to things as they come up. Remember I have more responsibility than you. Your responsibility is only to me. It ceases where mine begins."

"Don't fear, Captain. Let what Erwin and I did the other night be duly considered. I need your full support --"

"Young man, you have it!" Here Byers took Blaine's hand and shook it heartily. "Bring back as many of your squad as you can, but above all carry out your program."

Night came, and with it a comfortable fog that rose white and misty, good for the purpose in hand. The clocks were pointing towards seven when something like a dozen men, wearing the regulation uniform, gathered at the usual open s.p.a.ce, while from the doors of several hangars mechanics were silently rolling out machines.

Each aviator gave a few comprehensive looks and touches to his own plane, just to rea.s.sure himself that things were all right. Then came a brief moment or two of silent waiting. There were no, spectators.

Even the rest of the men at the aerodrome did not appear. This was according to orders.

Out in front stood Captain Byers, attended by Blaine and Erwin, talking in low, indistinct tones. Finally Byers looked at his watch.

"Time's up, I guess. Do your best, you two. You, Blaine, will veer to the right as you approach the enemy trenches. You, sir," to Orris, "will draw to the left. Your squads will follow their respective leaders. Should you meet opposition before you reach the balloons, don't flinch. Pour on more speed. Don't signal unless necessary but obey signals when given. Au revoir, lads! Don't come back until you have delivered the goods."

Back went the Sergeant and Corporal, each to his own machine, which headed a short double line holding six planes, or a dozen in all.

At a quiet signal the leaders rose, spiraling into the upper darkness.

Presently all had vanished, zigzagging in an easterly direction. About this time there came a sudden blue flare as a solitary rocket shot upward from beyond the grove of trees that that marked the landing place within the enclosed area that formed this aerodrome.

Instantly Byers was on the qui vive, he being nearest the point indicated by the blue flare. Bursting into a full run, he sped towards the spot, at the same time breaking in on several sentries un.o.btrusively posted about the grounds where the raiders had departed.

"Scatter lads!" he ordered. "Hurry! Spies at work! Halt any one you see, no matter who! Bring 'em in!"

Never halting in his race, he made directly for the spot whence the flare of the rocket had gone up. As he neared the trees, the sounds of a child's voice came to his ears, just inside the grove. It was remonstrating to some one.

"D -- don't, papa! I -- I want to get the pieces. My! Wasn't it pretty --"

Another voice, hoa.r.s.e, gruff, stopped the childish words, but what it said was indistinguishable. Byers looked around. Two of his sentries were near, all of them running.

"Did you hear that child?" queried the captain. "Scatter! Don't let either child or the grow one escape. Be spry! Watch out!"

As Byers uttered the last exclamation, a running figure emerged from the shadow of the nearer trees and started full tilt towards the quarters where the cook's galley was. All three, running hard had slightly scattered, in order to intercept the fugitive should he try to dodge amid the various buildings.

Swift as were the pursuers, the fugitive was more speedy.

At one instant they saw him in a twinkling of light from one of the open doors. The next instant the form was gone. There came a faint echo of half-smothered infantile cries.

Byers dashed by the lighted door, then stumbled over a small form on the ground and there rose another wail, now of terror if not of pain.

Quickly the captain picked up the small figure in big arms and ran on, holding it gently, yet firmly, and saying:

"There, there, little one! I won't hurt you!"

"D -- don't you hurt my pa, " wailed the small figure in his arms. "He -- was only making show for me --" More crying.

Where was the man? Only one clew had the captain. The fellow was round-shouldered, or seemed so in the glimpse Byers caught of them just before he dropped the child. Presently, one after another of the sentries came in, breathless yet unsuccessful. Somehow the fugitive had vanished, and look as they might, no further sign of him was seen.

"Skip around some more!" ordered the captain. "Try every door you pa.s.s. The fellow must be around somewhere. Call me if necessary.

I'll be on hand."

While the baffled sentries did as directed Byers who was a father himself, placed the child on a convenient bench beside him, patting its head soothingly with one hand while he searched his pockets with the other. Then he produced the remnant of a package of chocolate drops, part of the contents of a box recently received from home.

"Like candy?" he asked, putting some of the candy in the child's lap.

"Good candy -- right, from my home across the sea."

This in such French as Byers could command, which was plenty for the purpose. At first the child, whom he now perceived was a girl, would not try it, but presently a sight of the sweet was more than it could stand.

Seizing the offered sweets, it began to eat greedily.

"My papa have no sweets like this," munching greedily. "Who you?

Where my papa?"

"Know where your pa stays? I take you back to him."

For an answer the girl jumped down, still clutching the candy. She took Byers' hand, leading him back by another alley amid buildings here devoted to the culinary department of that cantonment. One of the sentries appeared. The child pushed on, leading Byers, who cautioned the sentry to say nothing, but to follow.

"What is your papa's name?" asked the captain.

"He name Bauer -- Monsieur Bauer --" The child suddenly stopped.

"What is the matter, little one?" asked Byers, pulses thrilling under a vague suspicion. But here the sentry, forgetting the captain's caution, interposed with:

"I know him, Sir! Hermann Bauer, our a.s.sistant quartermaster -"