The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line Part 15

This was what Rod had in mind when ahead of him he discovered signs of a pretty little French village. His hopes mounted higher because from the evidence before them it seemed plain that the retreating Germans had somehow managed to pa.s.s around this small place, so that there was a pretty good chance they would find a hospitable woman there, who, after learning that they had been a.s.sisting in the field, would be only too proud to cook them a meal, and it might be allow them to sleep in her house.

"I'd be willing to occupy a shed, or even a dog-kennel so long as it didn't have a French poodle occupant," Hanky Panky had solemnly said, when they talked this over at the last crossroads, as they stopped a short time to confer upon their plan of campaign.

Their coming created quite a little furore in the village, for being off the main road to Paris the good people here had as yet not learned what wonderful success General Joffre was meeting with in his attempt to force the stubborn enemy back toward the Rhine country.

The boys were soon surrounded by a throng of women and children, with a smattering of very old men. Apparently there was not a single able-bodied man left in the place, every one having gone to join the colors and defend the capital.

Rod was kept busy telling some of the grand things that had happened miles away, where the roll of the great guns had been sounding so long, bringing terror to the faithful hearts of the good people. How they shouted and even embraced each other as they learned what measure of success was coming to their army. One and all they were now positive that their wonderful commander would never give up the pursuit until he actually dictated terms of peace before the walls of Berlin itself.

When Rod modestly mentioned the fact that he and his two chums were hungry they immediately received a dozen offers of accommodation and supper. Every house in the village belonged to them, and they were at liberty to ask for anything they wanted.

Rod, however, used a little discretion. He did not in the first place want to be separated from his chums, and this meant they must choose some house capable of entertaining them all.

In the end he selected for their hostess a middle-aged woman who looked prosperous and capable of attending to their wants without robbing herself. The three motorcycles were stacked in the yard close by, where they continued to attract the attention of every boy, big or small, in the village.

Rod was not in the least afraid to leave them. He knew full well that there was not any chance of the machines being tampered with; for those French boys seemed well behaved. He wondered what would happen over at his home town of Garland, where such fellows as Oscar Griffin, Gid Collins and their like loved to play all manner of tricks and practical jokes, regardless of other people's feelings.

Comfortably seated inside the house Rod and his chums awaited the call to supper. They could get tantalizing whiffs of the food that was being prepared for their consumption as the odors crept in from the kitchen; and Josh several times privately declared he did not see how he was going to stand that sort of thing much longer, for it was making him fairly frantic, he was so ravenous.

Rod was figuring on where the three motorcycles should be placed for the night, and had already made up his mind to ask if they could be brought into the house; because while the good people of the village might all be as honest as the day, stragglers from the army were apt to come along who might feel like helping themselves to a "good thing" when they found it so convenient.

It was just at this moment, when they were expecting to be called into the dining-room to sit down at the bountiful feast provided, that, without the least warning, a bombsh.e.l.l seemed to drop among them. Shouts were heard without, and as the three boys sprang to their feet they looked at each other in sudden anxiety.

"What are they yelling about, Rod?" begged Hanky Panky.

"They say the Uhlans are coming down on us, and are already close to the place!" was the startling declaration of the one who understood French.

CHAPTER XVII.

BEHIND THE BARRICADE.

"Such tough luck, and just when supper was going to be called, too!"

groaned Josh, though possibly he did not mean to be at all humorous, but was only expressing the first natural feeling of bitter disappointment that beset him.

Rod realized that it was a time for quick thinking, and rapid action as well. No matter if the raiding Uhlans proved to be only a small detachment bent on striking terror to the hearts of the French, while their main army was still retreating toward the Aisne, they would be in numbers sufficient to awe the village, where only women and boys and aged men were to be found.

He also knew that the three fine motorcycles owned by himself and chums would be either confiscated or destroyed by the German cavalrymen.

Uhlans have always been accredited with bold and reckless deeds whenever engaged in warfare in the enemy's country. They would find incriminating papers, too, upon the boys, and might even take it in their hands to treat them as spies.

"Get busy, fellows; we must fetch our machines indoors and close shop to keep the enemy out, if we can!" was what Rod called, as he hastened to run from the room.

Just then a bell tinkled somewhere near by, apparently to summon them to the supper table; but much to the deep regret of Josh they were hardly in a condition to respond to the alluring call.

Each of them came staggering in, trundling a heavy machine. These they stacked in a room, after which the outer door was shut and secured in the best way possible, though not before a number of people had crowded in with them.

Out on the village street the greatest excitement prevailed. Children cried, women called to one another as they hurried their innocent charges homeward; even the stray dogs started barking again, just as they had done when Rod and his friends. .h.i.t the place with their buzzing motorcycles.

Above other sounds they could hear loud and heavy voices, as of men bent on terrorizing the peaceful little community. Of course the words they heard were German ones, showing that the speakers must indeed be the dreaded Uhlans.

They were undoubtedly galloping hither and thither, ransacking houses in search of food or anything else worth carrying off. It might be that presently some of them would even be found putting the torch to any building that failed to meet with their approval, after a hasty search.

Rod suddenly remembered something just then. It struck him forcibly, and the more he considered it the stronger did it seem to appeal to him.

He recollected that they had come upon a regiment of French zouaves making a temporary bivouac alongside the road about two miles back. If only they could be communicated with and informed of the presence of the hated Uhlans in the little French village, he felt positive they would not let the gra.s.s grow under their feet in hastening to the rescue of the small terrorized community.

But how could it be done? Rod would have given considerable for a chance to use his speedy motorcycle in this work, but there was no use thinking of such a thing, because it could never be carried out.

Perhaps from the roof of the house he might manage to attract the attention of some sentry at the camp, and by means of the Signal Corps code, which he knew very well, communicate their sad condition to the commander of the troops, and thus procure help for the frightened villagers.

"Stay here, and try to keep them out if they make an effort to break in," he told Josh. "I'm going up to the roof and see if I can send a signal for help to that zouave regiment we noticed camping by the roadside. Here, take this, Josh, and remember that you're defending women and children when you use it."

"Bully for you!" cried Josh, as his hand closed upon the revolver which had been taken from the fraudulent Oscar William Tell.

Rod hurried away, and ran upon the woman of the house close by. She was looking greatly alarmed at the sudden coming of the enemy, but for all that Rod believed she would prove true grit.

"I want to get up on the roof if it's possible," was what he said to her; "there is a regiment of French troops camped not two miles away on the side of the hill, and if I could get in touch with them they'd come to our help. Show me the way to the trapdoor, if there is one."

She must have grasped his idea without trouble, for she immediately started up the stairs. The confusion outside was growing worse than ever, and served to spur the boy on to renewed exertions.

The good woman of the house was soon pointing at the trap, and Rod quickly had it open. As he clambered out on the roof he saw to his satisfaction that it was situated on the side away from the village street. In this fas.h.i.+on he believed he might be able to accomplish what he had determined to attempt, at least without being interrupted by any pa.s.sing Uhlan lancers.

One look in the direction of the hillside gave him cause for further delight, since he found that he could easily see the camp of the tired zouaves, who had marched many miles since sun-up in hopes of partic.i.p.ating in the day's battle, only to arrive when the action was all over.

Rod immediately began to wave his handkerchief wildly, though carrying out a certain program, and hoping to thus attract the attention of some sentry who may have been posted on that side of the camp.

Almost immediately he realized that this was just what had been accomplished, for he saw men running, and then a signal flag was waved in reply to his frantic appeals.

"What do you want to communicate?" was what he made out to be fas.h.i.+oned through the regular wigwag work of the flag.

"Village at mercy of Uhlans--come and help us at once!"

That was the message which Rod sent waving back. How glad he was at that minute he had picked up his knowledge of Signal Corps work, and could both send and receive so accurately.

That the man in the zouave camp had grasped the meaning of his dispatch Rod quickly understood, for almost immediately there was waved back an answer calculated to rea.s.sure him:

"Hold on! Relief coming! O. K."

All this of course took a little time in transmission. Seconds had pa.s.sed into minutes, and about the time he was through Rod realized that things were getting pretty warm close by. In fact some of the raiders had discovered that the most pretentious house in the entire little village was barred against them. They had leaned from their saddles and pounded heavily on the door. When no one opened up they had given vent to their anger and even threatened to smash their way in, doubtless promising all sorts of terrible things for the inmates if forced to go to this trouble.

Still there had been no response. Josh, who was in charge below, did not mean to risk the loss of the precious motorcycles, as well as take chances of being shot as a spy, just because those lordly Uhlan cavalrymen demanded that he unbar the heavy door and let them enter.

The threatening voices, accompanied by louder blows, continued to sound as Rod hastened downstairs again. He realized that they must do everything possible to keep those rough raiders out until the French zouaves had a chance to arrive on the field.

There were several old men among those who, in the first excitement, had sought refuge in the house that temporarily sheltered the young Americans whom the simple French peasants and villagers considered real heroes. Although far from st.u.r.dy in build, and with trembling, half-palsied hands, these old chaps had proceeded to arm themselves as best they could.