The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line Part 21

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"What's the matter now?" asked Josh, tantalizingly.

"Why, I tell you there's nothing down here," replied Hanky Panky. "My eyes have got used to the dark, and I can see perfectly well. All around me is the stone of the well, the water is just under my feet, but high or low I can't see a single sign of anybody."

"Didn't I tell you so?" asked Josh, laughing harshly; "the old well must be a haunted one, I reckon. If that was really a groan we heard it was given by a ghost, or a goblin, and not a living being."

"Hey! that's enough, Jos.h.!.+ Get me up out of here quick, I tell you!"

called Hanky Panky, shaking the rope vigorously; "you promised you would, remember!"

Josh was chuckling at a great rate; nevertheless when Rod signalled to him he condescended to lend a hand, and between the two of them they speedily had Hanky Panky up safely, none the worse for his experiment, but looking deeply puzzled.

"That's the queerest thing I've run across for many a day," he was saying; "but you notice that it doesn't come any more now, since I went down. Oh! thunder! I spoke too soon, didn't I?"

The sounds had indeed started in again with even more vigor than before.

Hanky Panky, catching what seemed like a chuckle, suddenly turned on Josh.

"I've tumbled to your silly game at last, Josh," he said, pointing a finger at the other in a stern fas.h.i.+on; "somehow I clean forgot how you used to be such a smarty at throwing your voice, and aimed some day to be a regular ventriloquist on the stage. Well, you _did_ fool me all right, I own up; and I had my climb down into the old well for nothing. Hope you're satisfied now. Let's take another drink all around, and then get along."

Hanky Panky was one of those good-natured fellows who could laugh at a clever joke even when himself the victim; so that he did not bear any grudge for the way in which Josh had deluded him.

"But I'm glad anyhow that I didn't lose my grip, and drop into the water," he went on to say; "because it was terribly cold down there."

"All's well that ends well!" croaked Josh, with a happy grin, for he believed he had once more cleared the slate in the account with his fun-loving comrade.

Soon afterwards they left the ruined place and once more started along the road. Again they came upon scenes of desolation, with cl.u.s.ters of natives standing by the ruins of their late possessions, to wave an encouraging hand as the three boys sped past. Doubtless many of them believed Rod and his mates must belong to some section of the brave French army, for their khaki uniforms seemed to proclaim this. And every little helped when the gigantic task of turning the invaders out of France was considered, even the a.s.sistance of a trio of half-grown lads.

If things kept up as they were now going Rod confidently believed they would be close to the battle line again inside of two hours. The roar of the guns announced that severe fighting was going on not many miles distant.

They were making only slow progress at this time, so many obstacles impeded their way. Numerous stops were also made so that Rod could exchange a few sentences with some of the people they came upon, so as to pick up information that might prove of advantage to strangers in a section of country new to them.

There was no time when right and left they could not see a myriad of interesting things. Most of them pertained to warfare--marching troops; strings of prisoners being led to the rear; broken caissons and abandoned guns; wrecked bicycles, and even motorcycles cast aside when of no further service to the retreating Germans; cooking outfits that had been wonderful contrivances before being utterly smashed on their late owners finding they could not be taken along; and other things too numerous to mention.

Rod himself was of the opinion that the enterprising peasants might manage to partly indemnify themselves for their losses by taking possession of some of the various things abandoned, and renewing their usefulness.

It was now getting well on toward noon. Hanky Panky had even been heard to call out that he felt hungry, though Rod could see little hope of appeasing their appet.i.tes in that country, so thoroughly cleaned out by the enemy.

Suddenly there came an outburst of heavy firing close at hand. It was so furious that the three boys involuntarily stopped short, and huddled together to compare notes, so that they might decide upon the safest course for them to pursue.

Smoke began to climb upwards above the trees not more than a mile away, where Rod had reason to believe the Marne River ran.

"That's where the fight is going on, Rod, you can see!" shouted Josh, eagerly, pointing as he spoke; "look at the French batteries wheeling into position, would you? They mean to give the Germans a lot of pounding, looks like. I wonder what it all means; can you give a guess, Rod?"

Rod could, and lost no time in advancing his opinion.

"From what I heard when I talked with that last bunch of natives," he called out, for the racket was growing more deafening with every minute's pa.s.sage, "there's a ford to the river right about that place.

Now like as not the Germans have determined to dispute the pa.s.sage of the crossing, and left a big force there to hold Joffre's men in check.

The battle for that ford is now starting up, and it will be a pretty stiff fight unless all signs fail."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE THUNDER OF OPPOSING BATTERIES.

Standing there they used their eyes to the best advantage, though none of them felt fully satisfied with their position. Josh looked enviously at a spot only a short distance away. It was something of a small elevation, and he felt positive that if only they could manage to reach it their chances of seeing all that went on would be immeasurably enhanced.

"Yes," Rod was saying, loud enough for the others to hear him, "I'm afraid, too, his regiment is going to be in the thick of that desperate battle for the possession of the ford across the Marne."

"Do you mean Andre?" demanded Hanky Panky, instantly.

"Just who I meant," came the reply.

The others knew that as Rod spoke French, and had talked with a number of people as well as soldiers on the road, he must be primed with information such as had not fallen to their lot. Hence it never occurred to either of them to question the accuracy of anything he might say.

"That would be too bad for all of us," remarked Josh, "if anything happened to Andre, just when we got within stone's-throw of him. But Rod, do we have to stay right here, and do our looking?"

"What makes you ask that, Josh?"

"Well, you see, there's a whole lot better place over yonder, if only we could reach it; but I'm afraid lugging our machines over the rough ground would be too big a job."

At that Rod took a glance, and of course saw the advantages to be attained by a s.h.i.+ft in their position.

"It might be done," he told the anxious Josh, "if we cared to try and conceal our wheels somewhere near by, and walked or ran over to the rise."

"Would that be safe?" asked Hanky Panky, fearful lest they after all lose their mounts, and be compelled to walk, or depend on getting an occasional lift from some vehicle going in the direction of Paris.

"Reasonably so, I think," admitted the leader.

Encouraged by his tone Josh began to cast about in the hope of discovering a hiding place that would stand the test. This he speedily succeeded in doing, for Josh had sharp eyes, and could see things in a flash that it would take another a long time in finding out.

So they made haste to hide the trio of motorcycles in the shrubbery, hoping no one might by accident force a way through just at that particular point, and discover what had been left there.

"Now let's whoop it up for the rise!" suggested the eager Josh, for the sound of the battle had grown so insistent that he was fairly wild to see everything going on.

They all ran in a bunch, for Rod held Josh in, so that Hanky Panky might not be left too far behind. When they arrived at the place picked out for their station they found that, just as Josh had guessed, it was admirably fitted for their purpose.

Brief though the time had been taken up with this strategic maneuver the fight had evidently progressed beyond the preliminary artillery duel.

True, the guns on either side of the Marne were thundering fearfully, and every time a battery sent out its winged messengers of death the very earth seemed to tremble under the boyish trio, who crouched there, and gazed with their hearts fluttering in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s like those of frightened birds when held in the hand.

The Germans had left quite a strong detachment of their forces behind to defend that particular ford, which evidently a.s.sumed an important position in the eyes of the commander. The Marne could not be crossed with heavy artillery in all that section without the building of a bridge to replace those destroyed by the retreating Teutons, which would take a certain measure of time to execute.

But it was possible to get the guns across here at the ford, for that was what the Germans themselves had done. And a crossing here in force would mean that the pursuing columns of the French must creep that much closer to the precious big guns which the Germans were doing everything in their power to save from capture.

A thousand men might be sacrificed in this endeavor, but what of that?

Human material could be replaced readily enough, but it took months to build up one of those magnificent forty-two centimetre mortars with which they meant to batter down the defences of Paris, and win the war.

At the moment the three boys reached their point of observation things were rapidly drawing near a crisis. The French troops were undoubtedly getting wild to be let loose upon the waiting enemy; only their commander knew that the chances were as two to one they would not be able to get across the river so long as that one battery in particular commanded the ford. Its sh.e.l.ls were able to sweep over every yard of the crossing, and could cut down those who were wading desperately through the waist-deep water, as though they were helpless flies.

The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line Part 21

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The Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line Part 21 summary

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