Billy gazed at this object long and keenly. He could distinctly discern the basket beneath it; he could detect a certain movement of something white going up and down, up and down several times and then a pause; then several times again. While this was going on the puffs of white smoke from the thicket were not forthcoming. Then, when the white thing at the balloon ceased to move, the puffs began again.
What did all this mean? Could there be any connection between the thicket and the balloon—the little puffs of white smoke and the movements of that white thing by the basket in the sky?
Well, he was going to find out, anyway. There seemed to be nothing else he could do that would straighten out the mystery in his own mind. And so he again trotted forward direct toward the thicket, still watching the balloon. Suddenly he grasped the truth. There were two upward sweeps of white in the sky and instantly the little puffs ceased again. The two men, wheeling about, their heads above the bushes, saw Billy and began to beckon him. Fearless, probably without any misgivings regarding himself, he went on to join them. One pointed to the balloon and said something about it and Billy gazed at it again, entirely off his guard. Suddenly he ceased to see anything; he only tossed his arms feebly in air and sunk to the ground in a crumpled heap. In front of him the long, thin-faced, narrow-eyed driver of the car seized again a queer looking instrument and began quickly to shoot up more of the little smoke puffs. Back of the fallen youth stood the helper, holding a heavy iron rod in his hand. He made a quick, excited remark to the driver in German.
[CHAPTER XI]
“Gone West”
Once again along the farm road came Don’s ambulance. It reached the old farm house and stopped. He called loudly for Billy Mearns. There was no answer and Don rose in his seat to go and look for his pal, and to witness the good work he had done here. Always alert, he glanced about. He had not met the other Red Cross ambulance again. Was it still in the low ground by the thicket?
It was, and the men there were moving about. Don stood watching them for a moment. He saw a slender figure, one that he surely recognized as that of Billy Mearns, crossing the field toward the thicket. He saw two men within the clump and when Billy reached the bushes and passed among them Don saw one of the men lift his arm as if he were pointing.
Then, for an instant, Don’s heart seemed to stand still, for he saw the other man who had been in the clump of bushes raise his arm, holding some sort of weapon and strike the slender figure down.
The army ambulance at this moment was also coming along the farm house lane. The driver and helper had been watching the German observation balloon and its strange movements. When they reached the high knoll they, too, stopped to see if this might mean signaling to the enemy. The American driver’s helper was a poilu who had been wounded at the first battle of the Marne in 1914 and long experience in the ways of the Huns had taught him to be suspicious of everything unusual. He knew that the means of communication between a captive balloon and the divisional commander was by telephone and such signaling as this must be to those that a wire could not reach. In broken English he shouted excitedly: