“Which shall it be—you or I?” asked Phil in the same cautious tone. “Al and the others would be glad to be in on this.”
“And my friend Johnson, from the Old Kent Road. He’s sober now and worth two ordinary men in a scrimmage,” and Belding smiled broadly.
“Shall I go?”
“All right,” agreed Belding. “But be quick. And if I’m not here, I’ll drop papers to show my trail. I’ve plenty of old letters in my pocket to tear up.”
“Good idea,” said Whistler, preparing to slide feet first down the rock. “Don’t get into trouble with that fellow, George.”
With this admonition he left the other American lad and started back up the hill on the other side of which the huge airship had fallen to the earth.
CHAPTER IV—THE PAPER CHASE
Once again on the summit of the hill Whistler Morgan could overlook all the sloping pastureland bordering the pleasant road he and his friends had been strolling upon when the Zeppelin appeared; and he could view all the port and the harbor, as well.
It was no peaceful scene now. The bombing of the port had done no damage to the shipping; but there were fires burning in three places in the town, as well as on the site of the schoolhouse and where the Hun airship had fallen. No second Zeppelin had appeared from the sea; but the guarding airplanes had now gathered like vultures, floating high above the port.
Whistler did not wish to look in the direction of the schoolhouse site a second time. The shock of the destruction of all those innocent children was too fresh in his mind for him to be willing to view the spot closer. The crowd gathered about the steaming ruins were made up for the most part, probably, of the bereaved parents and friends of the victims.