“‘Buns’ is good,” groaned Al. “Here she comes!”
It seemed as though the great airship was directly above them. The boys actually saw the bomb released and fall!
There was no possible mistake on the part of the brutal crew and commander of the Zeppelin. They knew very well the bomb would fall upon no warship in the harbor, or any possible storage place of munitions. Up here on the hillside were nothing but little dwellings and—the schoolhouse!
As though it were aimed at that house of instruction, the great shell fell and burst! If teacher and pupils had descended into the cellar at the first alarm of the horns and guns, it would scarcely have availed to save them. The shot was too direct.
One moment the green-tiled, freshly whitened walls of the schoolhouse stood out plainly against the yellow and green landscape. Then, with a roar, it was wiped out and a huge balloon of whitish brown smoke took its place.
The explosion shook the air and the earth. The group of Navy Boys were struck to the ground. Only the gigantic figure of Willum Johnson remained erect, and he wavering on his feet and mouthing threats at the enemy.
“They killed ’em! They killed ’em!” he bawled, when he could be heard. “The women an’ the kids!”
He started on a staggering run, up the road this time, as though trying to follow the wake of the fast descending Zeppelin. The British airplane was above the enemy machine and was raking it with machine gun fire. Some damage had been suffered by the Zeppelin. She was descending, out of control.
But Morgan ran down the hill, toward the bombed schoolhouse—or the place where it had been. The other boys followed him. Frenchy was frankly crying, and Ikey clung to his hand as though afraid to let go.