Hardly had they landed when the air service boys found themselves listening to sounds that seemed significant. Plainly came reports of firearms and of loud shouting, as of excited men.
"What do you think that row means, Tom?" asked Jack, as they stood listening with quickened hearts.
"It's hard to say," the other replied. "They may be having a riot of some kind over in the city. But I'm afraid it is more apt to have something to do with our presence here."
"Do you mean they've seen our dropping down and that there may be soldiers on the way here to see what we're up to?" asked Jack.
"That may turn out to be the truth of it. But we mustn't lose any more time. What we want now is that paper. Jack, remember that we arranged it so you'd stay with the plane, while I hurried off to get it."
"All right, Tom; only I wish you'd let me go along. Then if anything happened we'd be together, anyhow."
"It's better for you to stay here. I'll be gone only a few minutes if everything turns out O.K."
Tom turned and ran across the field. Jack stared after him until he lost track of the runner in the misty moonlight. Then he occupied himself in listening to that clamor and wondering whether it was really getting closer, or if his fears only made him think so.
There was certainly a big noise. Men continued to shout, and guns were being discharged, but not so frequently as before. Perhaps this latter was done by nervous guardians of the Lorraine city, who on first hearing the racket took it for granted that it meant an airplane attack, and were therefore starting in to bombard the skies, discovering hostile fliers in every lurking fleecy cloud.
Yes, Jack was positive now that those who shouted to one another must be coming out of the city, and heading for the big field where Tom had dropped down.