CHAPTER XIV. The Gray Eagle Damaged.
At once the police officer at the oars hesitated. A parley was held in which it was decided to continue on their course to the station where the boys would be left and a report made.
Accordingly the man again bent to his oars, bringing the boat in a short time to its landing place. The boys were immediately presented before a sergeant, who took their story in detail, making suitable entries in a book before him. Francois acted as interpreter.
Only a glance at the badly soiled condition of the boys' uniforms was necessary to convince the police of the veracity of their story.
Before the lads had succeeded in making themselves presentable, an officer who had been detailed for the purpose returned and reported that although he had thoroughly searched the spot, no injured man could be discovered. It was, therefore, decided that if Jimmie's parting shot had found lodgment, his target had been carried away by confederates.
"What shall we do now?" questioned Harry, as the boys again entered the office with brushed uniforms and washed faces.
"Go to a hotel and get some sleep!" suggested Jack. "We've had about enough excitement for one night according to my notion!"
"Object, Your Honor!" put in Jimmie. "Suggestion of counsel is immaterial and irrelevant! We ought to get back to the Gray Eagle!"
"Why so?" inquired Harry. "The police left a guard there!"
"Suppose they did!" persisted Jimmie. "Is that a guarantee that the machine is safe? I'm going back, anyhow! You can sleep!"
"Can't we telephone out there and learn if everything is all right?" put in Jack. "The officers would be glad to report."
"How would you get them on the 'phone?" scorned Jimmie. "Did you see any linemen stringing wires to the middle of the street?"
Jack was compelled to admit that his suggestion was impractical.
"Well, then," Jimmie went on, "since the officer here is satisfied that our passports and story are all right, we'd better be on our way."
Hastily parting from their friends at the police station to whom they owed their recent rescue from an awkward situation, the five boys at once set out to visit their beloved aeroplane. Jimmie stormed freely against the man whom they were pursuing, declaring that he would be delighted to use brass knuckles if ever the opportunity offered.
His companions made no objections to his speech, for they knew it was only his way of relieving his pent-up feelings.
During the long walk the boys discussed the situation at some length. Jimmie held that "The Rat" would be well on his way toward Berlin if he could secure transportation, while Jack and Harry contended that he would not be satisfied to leave Paris until he was assured that the boys were well out of his way. They thought it likely that he would remain and make another effort to work them harm, since his previous attempts had thus far resulted in failure. They feared his vindictiveness.
"Aw, shucks!" protested Jimmie. "He probably beat it right out of town as quick as he blocked that door to the cellar!"
"You're forgetting the man who shot at us while we were in the police boat," Jack suggested. "What was he doing there? Who was he?"
"He was probably a guard that 'The Rat' had posted to make sure we didn't break jail and get the door open," Jimmie replied.
"It was rather peculiar that the police didn't find any trace of him!" interposed Ned. "I felt sure when I heard that scream that he was hit pretty hard by Jimmie's bullet. He certainly yelled some!"
"Maybe he was just scratched on the leg or something," replied Jimmie. "And again, maybe he wasn't hit at all, but let that wail out to get us to come back so he could get a better aim at us!"
"You never can tell," decided Jack. "Any one that would get mixed up in a gang like that would be pretty full of tricks!"
"Maybe he went into the river," put in Francois.
"Nix on the drink!" quickly vetoed Jimmie. "There wasn't any splash! If he'd gone overboard he'd have made one grand disturbance!"
"Not if he was shot and killed instantly," argued Francois.
"How could he be killed instantly if he let a holler out of him as big as the Singer building?" questioned Jimmie, indignantly. "No, sir," the boy continued, "you'll find that the fellow was a natural born coward and was more scared than hurt. I don't think I came anywhere near him! He's telling the gang right now what a brave man he is!"
"Have it your own way, Jimmie," decided Ned. "We are more interested in the movements of 'The Rat,' anyway. The question is: Where has he gone and how can we get him? That's the thing to decide!"
"Believe me," insisted Jimmie, "the next chapter of 'The Rat's' life history will be entitled 'Beating it for Berlin' and it'll start in sudden and go mighty swift! He's probably going as fast as that fellow Gilroy went away from the Devil's Punch Bowl in California!"
His chums laughed as they recalled the incident. For the benefit of Francois they described the amusing incident with which those who have read the previous volumes of this series are already familiar.
Directly the boys were delighted to observe the outlines of the Gray Eagle looming up before them in the street.
Their approach was halted by a challenge from one of the guards.
Upon discovering their identity, thanks to the good offices of Francois as interpreter, the policeman allowed them to proceed.
"The crowd has disappeared, I see," Ned said to the guard.
"Yes, they soon satisfied their curiosity and returned to their homes," was the reply. "After all, an aeroplane is no longer wonderful."
"Then you haven't been bothered since we left?" ventured Ned. "I suppose it got sort of lonely out here in the street."
"No one has been here, Monsieur, except the servants you sent."
"The servants we sent?" questioned Ned wonderingly. "We sent no one! I don't quite understand you. What do you mean?"
"Your servant," insisted the man. "The man you sent to get the papers from your strong box. He has left the place but a few minutes."
Ned turned a puzzled look to his chums now grouped about.
"What sort of appearing chap was he?" inquired Jimmie, advancing.
Quickly the man began a description which the boys at once recognized as belonging to but one person of their acquaintance.
"The Rat!" gasped Jimmie in bewilderment. "Why, my dream book said he was on his way to Berlin an hour ago!" the lad insisted vigorously. "Now you tell me he's been up here claiming we sent him!"
"Maybe you didn't look closely enough in your dream book, Jimmie," consoled Jack. "You evidently failed to examine the first chapter of 'Beating it for Berlin' to learn whether he was to make any stops enroute!"
"But we didn't send anybody!" insisted Jimmie, addressing the policeman with a positive manner. "We have no servants!"
"Pardon, but he had with him an order from you stating that he was to be permitted to visit your machine and return with certain papers," insisted the guard. "My companion further down the street has it now."
"Call him over here," requested Ned. "I want to see that!"
While waiting for the approach of the other guard, Francois engaged in conversation with the one before the lads. Turning to Ned the boy explained that he was informed The Rat, in company with another man, had visited the aeroplant with the alleged order. Thinking it genuine, the guards permitted him to seek the article wanted.
Not being inclined to trespass, the guards had not accompanied the searcher, but had waited at a respectful distance until the man and his companion were ready to leave. They had believed that they were doing only what the boys wished in the matter, hoping to be of assistance.
"Here is the permit, gentlemen," offered the second guard.
Ned took the paper and examined it by the light of an electric searchlight held conveniently close by Harry. A quick exclamation brought his chums crowding about to investigate the cause.
"Look at this!" Ned cried. "If that isn't cheek!"
"It is blank paper?" queried Jack. "Let me see it."
"Well, of all the nerve!" gasped Jimmie, taking the paper from Ned's hand and examining it closely. "What do you think of that?"
"May I see?" inquired Francois, interestedly crowding forward.
"Sure," replied Jimmie. "Here he has written a 'ha, ha' message, and given it to the guard, claiming it was his pass to search our machine! I'll bet the villain has wrecked the Grey Eagle from stem to stern!"
"Let's look it over and find out," suggested Harry at once.
Producing searchlights, in compliance with Harry's thought, the boys carefully examined the outer parts of the machine. Apparently not a thing had been disturbed. The instruments were all in place, the lockers intact, and all guy and brace wires were in place. The boys felt easier.
"Maybe he put some more dynamite in the engine!" urged Jimmie.
"He didn't have time!" declared Jack.
"By the way, Jimmie," suggested Ned to the lad who was near the instruments, "why need we grope around here with only searchlights. We have lots of current, suppose you turn on the lights for us."
"Right-O!" assented Jimmie, reaching for the switch.
No illumination resulted. Again the switch was turned.
"He's cut a wire somewhere!" declared the lad. "Maybe he had a pair of pliers and just nipped off what he could reach."
"Try to start the engine, Harry," requested Ned. "Maybe he cut the wires leading to that as well as the lamp circuit. It would not surprise me to find that he had done so. It would be just like him!"
For the first time the engine failed to respond to Harry's touch on the levers. There was no current. The wires had been severed.
"Harry, you are familiar with the lay out of this little wagon," Jimmie suggested. "Suppose you overhaul the wiring and repair it."
For nearly an hour Harry, whose experience about automobiles had been very extensive, labored, with the assistance of his chums, to repair the damage done by their enemy. Nearly every electric wire in the equipment had been severed, apparently with the aid of powerful pliers.
At length the boys were rewarded by a flash of light from the lamps. This enabled the work to go ahead more quickly, and in a comparatively short time the engine had been wired and started.
Francois now came forward with a suggestion. He had been conversing earnestly with the guard while the boys worked on the machine.
"The man tells me," he said, "that the two men were talking as they left the place. He heard them mention Lille several times, and thinks that is their destination. Perhaps it would be well to consider this."
"Hurrah for Lille!" shouted Jimmie. "Where is the place?"
"It is about 125 miles nearly due north of Paris," replied Ned.
"It may be only a trap!" objected Jack. "Better go slowly!"
"Trap nothing!" Jimmie protested. "He didn't know the guard overheard him. And, if he did, he probably didn't think he'd tell us!"
"It can do no harm to go there, anyway," argued Harry. "If we go to Berlin it won't be much out of our way. I vote we go to Lille."
All thought of sleep had been driven from the boys by their recent experiences. They were now anxious to be in pursuit of The Rat.
Ned showed the policeman his permit from headquarters, and lost no time in preparing the Grey Eagle for flight. Soon the machine soared into the air. Jimmie waved his hand to the policemen, whose white gloves vibrated a message of good wishes until he could no longer see them.
Below them dimly lay Paris. The Seine wound through a valley now dark and uninviting. The eastern sky, however, was becoming gray.
"I hear another machine!" announced Harry presently.
The droning of a motor became apparent to all. A monoplane was rapidly approaching. The boys watched its approach with interest.
"He's going above us," announced Harry as the machine drew near.
Suddenly a rifle shot rang out in the morning stillness. A bullet ripped its way through the forward rudder, causing the Grey Eagle to veer abruptly in its flight. Another shot came from the monoplane.