CHAPTER XVIII. An Interrupted Race.
"My information comes from the officer, here," replied the General, with a smile at the boy's pertinent query. "He states that an observer near the boundary reports by telephone that a monoplane resembling that used by The Rat was seen crossing to the eastward only a few minutes previous to our arrival here. He was traveling high and rapidly."
"In that case, we'd better get going ourselves," urged Jack.
"But I want to stay here a while and watch these French airmen," Jimmie objected. "Besides, it wouldn't be polite to go away so soon. The General hasn't had a chance to ask us to lunch," he added, with a wink at Ned who was standing near.
"Same old cold, I suppose," protested Jack. "You had a lunch only a few hours ago, and now you're hungry again! What's the matter?"
"Hunger seems to be an affliction from which Jimmie always suffers," laughed Ned. "I'm sure I don't know what to do!"
"That's not an affliction," maintained Jimmie, joining in the spirit of the chaffing, "that's what they call a disease!"
"It's chronic, whatever you call it!" asserted Harry.
"Well, it's a mighty good thing you fellows have me to be your alarm clock, anyhow!" stoutly returned Jimmie. "If it wasn't for me to remind you once in awhile, you'd forget to eat. I'm useful!"
Laughingly giving instructions that the boys should be well supplied with breakfast, the General asked to be excused for a short time. He at once retired, in company with the officer who seemed to be in command of the camp, to a building set apart for office purposes.
The boys walked about, under the guidance of a non-commissioned officer who had been detailed for the purpose, inspecting the new aeroplanes arriving in cases from the factory, those already assembled, and a number which had been tested. They saw several machines which had been badly damaged, some by reason of defects and others by unskillful handling by novices. A number of aspiring candidates were being given practical instruction in aviation by experienced men. None of the recruits were permitted to take charge of a machine until after several flights had been made in company with their instructors. Then they were given charge of a machine and permitted to make their first flight unaccompanied. Jimmie declared that his fingers itched to have charge of one of the larger machines intended for attack. The small scouting machines did not interest him.
The large planes were built with space for mounting a machine gun, with room for its operator and a supply of ammunition. Above the gunner's seat the pilot was located, where he could get an excellent view of his surroundings and direct the craft as desired by the gunner.
A bugle call attracted their attention. Their guide announced, through Francois, who acted as interpreter, that lunch was ready.
"I declare, I nearly forgot I was hungry!" asserted Jimmie.
"It's mighty interesting!" agreed Ned. "But I don't think they have anything the better of our little old Grey Eagle, when it comes to ease of handling and speed. We can show any of them a clean pair of heels when that engine gets nicely smoothed up!"
"Right you are, Scout!" Jimmie returned vigorously. "And they haven't any of them got anything on me when it comes to eating! Advance, Comrades!" he continued with a laugh. "Let us attack the cold cure!"
Before the boys had devoured the splendid luncheon provided for them under the direction of the commander, they were again visited by their recent passenger. He had been very busy during the short interval and, as the boys later learned, had gotten in touch with the entire battle front by means of telegraph and telephone. Orders had been issued with whirlwind promptness, and information received, to be glanced at only once ere it was safely stored in the master mind.
Long after their visit the boys learned to value the ability of the man whom all France was depending upon to bring her out of the terrible crisis in which she was then placed.
After inquiring if their wants had been properly supplied, the General approached Ned on a subject that the lad had anticipated would be mentioned. It was one that he dreaded.
Seating himself at Ned's invitation, the General began:
"What do you think of our little camp by this time?"
"It is great!" heartily responded Ned. "I like it!"
"And the principle, is it not a correct one?"
"I think so," replied the lad. "I believe it is a grand idea to teach the men everything possible about the matter before sending them out on the firing line. Do they seem to learn readily?"
"Yes," was the answer, "but we are in need of one thing. We must have more instructors! There are not enough men who can teach!"
What Ned dreaded he saw all too plainly was coming.
"Do you not perceive our need of men?" continued his questioner.
"Yes, sir, I can," returned Ned. Then, as if determined to meet the issue squarely, he went on, looking straight into the other's face:
"If it were not for the fact that we are citizens of the United States and, therefore, neutral, I would be delighted to offer my services in any way they might be used. We are on a mission that requires our time and utmost energy, however, and it would be out of the question for us even to think of such a possibility."
For just a moment no answer was made. The two sat gazing silently across the table. At length the General spoke in a lower tone:
"You are right, my lad! Loyalty to your country and her needs should always be your first consideration. Let principle be of far greater moment than any pecuniary gain, and you cannot go far wrong!"
So saying he arose and extended his hand to Ned. In that firm clasp Ned detected the emotion that swept over this master of men, who carried the responsibility of a nation at that moment on his shoulders.
Long afterward he declared that one of the proudest moments of his life was the one in which he and Joffre clasped hands across the table in the aviation camp. From that time his efforts to instil into the minds of his comrades ideas of patriotism and loyalty increased.
After giving instructions that the boys should be well cared for during such time as they wished to remain, the General prepared to go about his duties. As he was leaving, Ned asked:
"We feel that we must continue our chase of The Rat and try to prevent his selling the plans to any other nation. He is, no doubt, on his way to Berlin, and we ought to follow. Can you give us a pass to go through or over your lines with the Grey Eagle?"
"That is impossible," returned the other. "No one but the regular aviators are permitted to do that, and then only under orders. If, however, you should make such a move without my knowledge or consent, I could not prevent it. The men in the trenches will have orders not to fire on any aeroplane like the Grey Eagle if a white cross is painted on the lower side of the planes. There is plenty of white paint here."
Expressing their sincere thanks, the boys left the General and proceeded to their sightseeing. Jimmie was very anxious to find the paint pot and brush, declaring he could take a hint easily. This was easily arranged, and in a short time two large white crosses were on the lower side of the Grey Eagle's planes, where they could be easily seen.
"You have quite a machine there," politely suggested a pilot.
"Thank you," replied Ned, with Francois interpreting.
"Perhaps it is quite swift?" continued the other.
Ned shrugged his shoulders. He did not wish to boast.
"I believe my monoplane is able to travel faster," stated the other. "I am a firm believer in the merits of a monoplane!"
"Possibly," replied Ned, a little nettled at the fellow's insistence. "We are satisfied. Our machine carries a heavy load."
"What do you say to a little race?" questioned the pilot.
"What shall we do, boys?" queried Ned, turning to his companions. "Shall we keep still and let him have his own way or not?"
"I should say not!" vociferated Jimmie, bridling at once. "If you let him get away with anything like that, he'll take the whole house next! I say we'd better show him a trick or two. We can do it!"
"Maybe not," cautioned Jack. "These fellows are pretty smooth!"
"They haven't got anything on the little old Grey Eagle when it comes to getting out of the road. Some day I'll show you!"
"Well, I vote we show this gentleman right now!" urged Harry.
It was accordingly agreed that a trial race was to be run between the machine owned by the boys and that of the French pilot. Quickly the news went round the camp, and by the time preparations had been made everyone was keenly alert. The boys went carefully over every part of their machine, examining every guy and fastening.
At last the Grey Eagle was pronounced ready, and final instructions were given as to the course. It was agreed that as a test of all the qualities necessary in a machine a message should be carried to an outpost on the firing line not many miles to the eastward. An officer there would give a receipt for the message, and the return of the receipt to the camp would determine which machine was the winner.
"Be careful, boys," cautioned Francois. "I think the pilot is telephoning to a friend of his to have a receipt ready written and put up on a hoop on a long pole, after the manner of your American train order deliveries. He can then drop his message, pick up the receipt, and beat you without being required to land at all!"
"Did you hear him telephoning?" asked Jimmie indignantly.
"Just now!" replied Francois. "He has but just left the booth!"
"Then we'll fix him!" declared Jimmie. "I'll report him!"
"Please do not!" begged Francois. "It would only make trouble!"
"In that case, Ned, we've got to beat this fellow by some few minutes. He's going to try to win the race by a trick!"
"Evidently we've got him scared!" laughed Ned.
"It looks that way, surely!" agreed Jimmie.
After receiving explicit instructions regarding the location of the point where the messages were to be delivered, the boys mounted their machine. Ned followed the example of the Frenchman, and warmed his engine well before announcing that he was ready.
Several had advised Ned to remove some weight from his craft before starting, and also strongly advised against carrying four passengers. To these objections, however, Ned returned but one answer. He had agreed to run the race in ordinary condition, and he would not now retreat.
At a pistol shot, fired as the starting signal, both machines seemed to leap into the air. Ned had opened the muffler for the start, and Jimmie declared afterward that a stream of fire a mile long burst from the exhaust pipe. The roar of the Grey Eagle's motor completely drowned out the noise of the monoplane. In a short time the camp had been left far in the rear. The Grey Eagle easily took the lead and steadily gained on the rival air craft, in spite of the Frenchman's best efforts. He was using every trick and device of which he was master.
Soon Harry, who had been using the binoculars constantly, announced that he could see a group of men standing in a field, evidently watching for the coming of the machines. They were grouped near some trees.
Ned prepared to make a quick landing. He saw, however, upon nearing the ground that the spot did not offer suitable advantages and rose again. Continuing over a slight wooded rise, he found an open space which seemed satisfactory. Here he made an excellent landing.
"Stay where you are," he cried, springing to the ground. "I'll run back through these trees and get a receipt for the message."
"That will give the monoplane an advantage!" cried Jimmie. "They picked that poor landing spot because he doesn't have to stop!"
"That's some trick, I must say!" chimed in Harry.
Ned ran rapidly back toward the group of men. He could see the monoplane descending and noted the preparations for delivery of the receipt.
"Halt!" a voice commanded, coming from the ground at Ned's feet.