NODDY NIXON
Events were transpiring so rapidly for Ned, Bob and Jerry in the last few hours, that it was no wonder they were somewhat startled. Coming from strenuous bayonet practice to hear of a spy alarm, to have that augmented by excitement over the big snake, to learn that the “spy” was none other than Professor Snodgrass, and then to hear of his strange mission, would have been almost too much for any group of lads less sophisticated than this trio.
And hardly had they digested the news about the two missing girls, in a search for whom they mentally agreed they would join, than along came excitable Andy Rush and—more girls.
“There’s Mollie Horton!” cried Ned, recognizing a girl who lived near him in Cresville, and with whom he was very friendly.
“Yes, and I see Alice Vines,” added Jerry.
“And Helen Gale is with her,” commented Bob. “I’m glad she came! Helen’s a great girl for sport and––”
“You’d better be careful how you talk,” warned 44 Jerry, as the girls continued to approach. “Helen and Helena are names very much alike, but if you get them mixed up—well, Helen isn’t one to stand any nonsense.”
“Aw, say––” began Bob, and then the nearer approach of the three girls, to whom Andy Rush was beckoning, put a stop to any further talk concerning them.
It might be added, to explain Jerry’s reference, that Helena Schaeffer was a girl in whom Bob Baker felt more than ordinary interest. At first, because of the pro-German leanings of her father, she had been a bit cold toward Bob when he joined the army with his chums, to fight the Kaiser. But, as readers of the volume preceding this know, Helena changed her attitude, much to Bob’s relief.
“Well, of all the sights that are good for sore eyes!” cried Ned, as he hurried forward to greet the girls, an example followed by his chums. “What fine wind blew you here?”
“We didn’t come in an airship!” burst out Andy Rush. “I wanted to, but they wouldn’t—’fraid they’d fall—swoop up—swoop down—get here quicker—fall maybe—maybe not—lots of fun, anyhow. Gosh, it’s great—I say, fellows, are you going––”
Jerry gently but firmly took hold of Andy by the ear, and, pointing to Professor Snodgrass, 45 who was wandering about a distant field in search of possible insects, said:
“Andy, you go and aid in the interests of science, and, incidentally, cool off. We’ll see you later.”
And Andy, whose rapid flow of words had been suddenly stopped, looked once at the tall, bronzed lad, and then followed the instructions to the letter. So, whether he wanted it or not, Professor Snodgrass had the assistance of the small youth.
“Well! Well!” exclaimed Jerry, as he shook hands lingeringly with Alice. “How did you get here?”
“Going to enlist?” asked Ned.
“Maybe they’re going to join the girls’ motor corps,” suggested Bob, who had attached himself to Helen.
“No, we just came on a visit,” explained Mollie.
“To see us?” asked Ned.
“Of course!” was the mischievous answer. “We got lonesome back in Cresville, with all the nice boys gone, and so we got Andy to bring us down here.”
“And if we believe that, I suppose you’ll tell us another,” laughed Jerry. “Seriously now, how did you happen to come, and how long are you going to stay? Fellows, we’ll have to get furloughs and take the girls around. Not that there’s 46 much to see down here, but we’ll do our best,” he added.
“Cease! Cease!” commanded Ned, holding up his hand like a traffic officer in front of Jerry. “Let’s hear how they happened to come.”
“Oh, that is soon told,” remarked Alice. “Mollie’s aunt lives not far from here.”
“And she invited Mollie down on a visit,” added Helen. “And Mollie was good enough to ask us, so we all came together. We reached there yesterday, and, knowing you boys were at camp here, we decided to come out to see you, which we have done.”
“And for which we are duly grateful,” added Jerry. “But what about Andy Rush? I never was more surprised in my life when I heard his usual flow of language. How did he happen to be with you?”
“That was just an accident, a coincidence, or whatever you want to call it,” said Mollie, with a laugh. “When Andy heard we were coming down this way he asked if he couldn’t come with us. He says he is going to enlist. He isn’t going to wait to be drafted. He said he’d sort of look after us on our way down.”
“But it’s been the other way about!” laughed Alice. “We’ve had to watch him all the while. He was always hopping about, talking to strangers, and every time the train stopped at a station 47 longer than a minute he’d get off, and we’d be in a fix for fear he’d be left. But he’s here, thank goodness!”
“Going to enlist!” cried Ned. “Why, he’s too small.”
“That’s what they told him back in Cresville when he tried it,” remarked Alice. “But we must give Andy credit for being a determined little chap. He’s sixteen, and he says lots of boys of sixteen have gone in, and he’s going. He said if the recruiting officer at home wouldn’t take him one here at camp might. So he came with us, and I believe he’s going to ask you boys to use your influence to get him into the army.”
“A heap of influence we have!” laughed Ned. “Privates—with Jerry just made corporal.”
“Well, Andy was very nice to us on the way down,” said Helen, “so please do all you can for him.”
“We will!” promised Jerry. “And now tell us about yourselves, and how all the folks are at home. Oh, but it’s great to see you again!”
Then followed a talk until it was time for the three chums to report for drill duty.
“What are you girls going to do this evening?” asked Bob.
The girls looked at one another.
“Oh, just sit around, I suppose,” remarked Mollie. 48
“No, you’re not!” cried Jerry. “There’s a dance in town—a really nice place—and we’ve been wishing for some girls to come along to help us out. It’s under the auspices of the local Y. W. C. A. And if we can get off––”
“Oh, we’ll get off all right!” broke in Ned eagerly.
“If worst comes to worst, we’ll have the professor ask the colonel on our behalf. The prof seems to pull a pretty good stroke with the C. O. So a dance it is to be!” declared Bob.
And a dance it was. The boys received permission to remain away from camp until midnight, passes being issued to them, and they at once proceeded to “doll up,” as Bob expressed it.
A joyous week followed, for the girls were to remain in the vicinity of Camp Dixton, at Mollie’s aunt’s house for some time, and they asked nothing better than to have the company of the three chums as often as it might be possible.
Of course, Ned, Bob and Jerry did not have very much time to themselves during the day, and some of their nights were occupied. But fate was kind to them, and they had several dances with the girls, and also went to “shows” at the local Y. M. C. A., as well as entertaining the girls by escorting them about the cantonment.
Meanwhile, Professor Snodgrass received permission to loose his pet snake, Ticula, in certain 49 restricted areas, so that he might observe her feeding habits in the open.
“But I cannot stay here very long,” he told the boys. “I must soon begin to prepare for my trip to Europe. I simply must make an attempt to find those two girls.”
“And we’ll help you!” declared Jerry. “Just wait a few days more. I think our orders to go across are coming.”
And come the orders did. The day before the three home-town girls were to return to Cresville orders came for the larger part of the soldiers at Camp Dixton to leave for France.
“Hurray!” cried Ned, Bob and Jerry, as they saw the orders posted. “Now we’ll get a whack at the Germans!”
“And I’m going, too!” declared Andy Rush. “I’ll go if I have to leave as a stowaway! I’ve simply got to fight—get me a gun—let me go in an aeroplane—I want action—got to do something—can’t keep still—Hurray for Uncle Sam!”
“Say, you’ll burst a blood vessel if you aren’t careful!” cautioned Ned. “Better go slow, Andy.”
But Andy Rush was not the lad for that, and he hurried about the camp, more excited than ever, seeking for a chance to go abroad.
Ned, Bob and Jerry, with thousands of their chums, were to go to Hoboken, New Jersey, there 50 to go aboard a transport and be escorted to France. By a stroke of good luck, and by pulling some official, or scientific wires, Professor Snodgrass received permission to go on the same vessel. He hurriedly sent his pet snake to a museum to be cared for until his return, mailed his specimens of ameba to a scientific friend to be made into microscopical slides, and then, having fitted himself out with as many specimen boxes and other paraphernalia as he was permitted to take, announced that he was ready for his dual mission—the seeking out of the two girls that he might apprise them of their good fortune and to undertake the study of the effect of war noises on crickets and katydids.
The final drills, bayonet practices, hikes and other camp activities were held, and then the order came to break camp. Professor Snodgrass went on ahead, promising to meet the three chums in Hoboken, and Mollie, Alice and Helen departed for Cresville, their good-byes to the boys being rather tearful, it must be admitted.
As for Andy Rush, he disappeared on the day when the young soldiers were to take the train for the North, and no one seemed to know what had become of him.
“Guess he found he couldn’t get in the army, and he went back home,” remarked Ned.
Finally the three chums were on their way for 51 the fighting front with thousands of fellow soldiers, some being volunteers and others of the selective service.
Many and varied were the thoughts of our heroes as the train bore them northward. What would be their fate in France? Would they ever see home again, or would they be left across the water with the others who died that civilization might live? And mingled with these thoughts were others as to the mission of Professor Snodgrass.
“It surely is some commission—trying to find two girls with just their photographs and nothing much else to go by,” commented Ned.
“But we have done harder things,” added Jerry.
The journey North was rather tiresome, but the boys and their companions enlivened it as much as possible by singing, telling stories, and general activities.
Once, when the train was delayed at a junction the three Cresville friends got out, as did hundreds of others, to “stretch their legs.” There was another train-load of young soldiers on a siding, having come from another camp, and lads from this were also walking up and down.
As Ned, Bob and Jerry stood together, looking at a group of recruits who had been trained in Texas, they heard a voice saying: 52
“This drafting business makes me sick! I don’t like it at all!”
“Maybe you’d rather have been passed over,” suggested some one.
“Naw, you get me wrong!” was the answer. “I want to fight all right, but I want to do it my own way. I’d have enlisted in the air service if they’d given me time enough. I was thinking of it when the draft law went into effect, and then I couldn’t. I know a lot about airships. I used to run one, and I invented one, too.”
“Did it fly?” some one wanted to know.
“It would have if it hadn’t been for some mean fellows in my town who didn’t want me to beat them,” was the announcement. “You wait until I get on the other side! I’ll show ’em what flying is, if they give me the chance, and Jerry Hopkins and his pals sha’n’t stop me, either!”
“Did you hear that?” asked Ned in a low voice.
“I should say so!” exclaimed Bob. “We ought to know who that is.”
“Noddy Nixon, without a doubt!” remarked Jerry. “And up to his old tricks! I hope he isn’t going on the same transport with us!”