The sound of firing was now much closer. Frightened faces were peering from behind shuttered windows. All traffic appeared to have stopped, and the only life beyond the few persons abroad, whose curiosity was stronger than their fear of the big German guns, was when an occasional body of troops would rush through the streets.
The beautiful Hotel de Ville and the fine old cathedral, so soon destined to be damaged by fire and bullets, attracted the attention of the boys and gained a hearty expression of admiration from them both. All at once there was a whirr and the snort of a horn, and an armored war-automobile, carrying a machine gun, and painted a business-like gray, dashed around a corner and sped on. Another car came close behind it.
The second machine carried an American and a Red Cross flag. It was coming fast and contained two occupants. Both were youths, and one carried a camera over his shoulder by a broad strap. But the other attracted Jack’s notice, for in him he recognized instantly the lad they were in search of, Tom Jukes, the millionaire’s son.
“Hey, Tom Jukes!” he hailed.
The car slowed up and the young driver turned questioningly in his seat.
“Well, by all that’s wonderful, it’s Jack Ready and Bill Raynor!” he exclaimed, as the two lads came up to the car. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“We’ve been sent to ask you that same question,” responded Jack, who, it will be recalled, became well acquainted with Tom Jukes when the young wireless man was in the hospital in New York following his battle with the desperate tobacco smugglers he was instrumental in sending to prison.
“What do you mean?” asked Tom with wide-open eyes.
“Why, your father hadn’t heard from you and——”
“Hadn’t heard from me! Why, I’ve written several letters,” declared Tom. “I’d have cabled, but they’ve stopped all that for the present, at least. I declare, that’s too bad. And so the governor sent you on a searching expedition, eh?”