The Boy Aviators with the Air Raiders: A Story of the Great World War

THE COMING OF THE DAWN

“Just in time to help me out in planning a bill of fare for supper, too,” Pudge told them. “There are some tinned meats here, but I’d prefer something good and warm.”

That difficulty was soon swept aside, for the others nominated several dishes they chanced to be exceedingly fond of, and Pudge found he was going to have his hands full preparing them with such limited accommodations.

However, willing hands make light work, and both Frank and Billy were ready to give him all the assistance required; so that in the end they had quite a feast spread upon the little drop-table that took up no space at all when not required for use.

It was a peculiar supper-setting, with only that one lantern to give them light. Of course they could have used the acetylene lamps, but their supply of carbide was rather low, and there could be no certainty about obtaining a further amount, so Frank thought it best to husband what they had.

The weird appearance of the big seaplane added more or less to the strangeness of their surroundings. Still, by this time, all of the boys had become so accustomed to seeing its bat-like wings, and the boat body with the spoon-shaped bow that they would have missed it had the hangar been empty.

Over the meal they chatted in low tones, discussing many things connected with their mission across the sea. Little was said concerning the contemplated dash laid out for the following morning, because in the first place they knew none of the particulars; and then again the raid was the Allies’ secret, not theirs.

The unexpected presence of that concealed spy had given them a rude jolt. They appeared to be living in an atmosphere of espionage; and somehow it seemed as though hostile eyes and ears might be close by, even though unseen.

When finally they were through, it was remembered that they had decided to give the chilled guards a treat; so Pudge brewed a copious amount of strong coffee that was of a rich dark color, and had the “odor of ambrosia,” as Billy called it.

“Since you’ve done so much, Pudge,” remarked Frank, “you’re going to be the one to go along with me on the rounds. So get that big tin cup, and we’ll carry the can of condensed Swiss milk with us. We might as well give them the coffee just as they fancy it, either black or with the fixings.”

Pudge beamed on his chum. Evidently he had not expected to be favored with an invitation like this; for as a rule he was apt to be left behind on account of his well-known clumsiness.

Frank, however, was wise enough to carry the steaming pot of coffee himself, as an insurance against spilling. If Pudge did happen to trip over some unseen obstruction and measure his length he could hardly do worse than spill the thick condensed milk, or dent the big tin cup.

So they started forth, and coming to the gate first of all surprised the two khaki-clad Tommies there. How eagerly they in turn quaffed the contents of that common tin cup can be imagined, for the night air was growing cold, and a dismal prospect stared them in the face.

Frank carried the lantern in one hand; it was in the dark of the moon, and he meant that none of the guards should make a mistake and fire upon them for unwelcome prowlers.

News of their coming was sent on ahead, each sentinel calling out to the next one; and in this way the boys made the complete rounds, neglecting none.

When they finally returned to the building it was with an empty pot, and the satisfaction of knowing they had done something to cheer up the brave fellows who were protecting their property.

Frank himself went the rounds of the hangar once more to make sure that everything was as it should be. There was a sense of responsibility resting on him that the others did not feel in the same degree, for Billy was one of those care-free individuals, and as for Pudge, did you ever know of a fat, good-natured boy worrying?

“I hope we don’t have any trouble between now and dawn,” Billy was heard to say as they began to get things ready for sleeping, each having a blanket, as well as some cushions with which to form a rude bed.

“Yes, because to-morrow ought to be a big day for the Sea Eagle Company, Limited,” added Pudge, swelling a little with pride as he pronounced that name. “In fact, it promises to eclipse anything we’ve ever stacked up against before in all our travels.”

“It was all very fine,” commented Billy, “to knock around the Moon Mountains in Africa, meeting up with wild beasts and wilder men; it was thrilling to be away down there in the frozen regions of the Antarctic; but let me tell you all those happenings rolled into one couldn’t equal a trip over the fighting lines of two great armies in a death grapple along the trenches.”

“I’m not going to get one wink of sleep this whole night, thinking about it,” asserted Pudge, shaking his head in a sad fashion; but somehow his threat did not seem to give either of his chums the slightest degree of anxiety, for they knew what an enormous propensity Pudge had for sleep.

It may have been about ten o’clock when they all lay down and tried to lose themselves in slumber. The lantern had been extinguished, but Frank had things fixed so that if any sudden necessity arose he could press a button that was close by his hand and illuminate the interior of the hangar with the searchlight connected with the seaplane.

Just as they expected, Pudge was breathing stertorously before seven minutes had crept by, proving his dismal foreboding to have been an empty threat. Billy was the next one to drop off; and finally Frank, too, lost track of things after he had tried various expedients in the hope of forgetting himself.

They were aroused by a sudden loud noise that sounded like an explosion. All of them sat upright as though brought in contact with a galvanic battery; but Frank desisted even when his hand was in the act of reaching for the button connected with the light.

If that had been a bursting bomb dropped by some hovering German Taube, for him to betray the exact position of the hangar by starting up the brilliant electric searchlight would be the height of folly.

“What could that have been, Frank?” Pudge was asking in trembling tones; for as it afterward turned out he had been having a weird dream, and his first thought on being so rudely aroused was that the top of a volcano he was exploring had been blown off by an eruption, sending him a mile high.

“The Germans have made a night raid, and are trying to smash the Sea Eagle, after seeing what she could do to their machines and dirigibles!” declared Billy, as if his mind had already been made up.

“Do you think so too, Frank; and are we apt to be blown up any second now by a better aimed bomb than that first one?” Pudge demanded, evidently trying hard to control himself, and show that he could face danger with an undaunted front.

Frank had had time to think. He realized that several things conflicted with such an explanation of the mysterious explosion. Voices, too, outside could be heard, and it was evident that the guards were calling to one another.

“On second thought,” Frank ventured to say, “I don’t believe that could have been a bomb. It didn’t make near enough noise, though perhaps we thought it pretty loud on being waked up so suddenly.”

“Then what could it have been, Frank?” demanded Billy.

“I’ve got an idea one of the guards may have fired at some prowler,” replied the other; “in a minute or so I’ll take the lantern and go out to see.”

He insisted on going alone, and the other two remained back of the barred door awaiting his report. Frank was gone about twenty minutes when his signal was heard on the other side of the door. Upon being admitted he at once eased their fears.

“After all, it was the discharge of a gun, just as we guessed,” he observed. “One of the guards believed he saw a shadowy figure creeping along. He challenged, and on hearing the bushes shake as the unknown started away, the sentry shot.”

“Perhaps, after all, it was a false alarm?” suggested Billy.

“No, it was a prowler, all right,” said Frank, “for the sergeant and myself went out to where he told us he had aimed, and we found not only footprints in the dirt, but specks of blood as well, showing that the soldier had winged the spy.”

“Tamales and terrapins, but that is thrilling news, Frank!” exclaimed Pudge. “Did you try to follow the trail, and see if the poor fellow was lying around anywhere?”

“It made for the road, and we lost it there,” said Frank. “I reckon it was not a very severe wound, for while the man evidently limped he did not lose much blood. Not wanting to be away from the hangar any longer than we could help, the sergeant and myself came back.”

“One good thing,” remarked Billy, “those chaps will have learned that we are on the job, all right. They’ll be careful how they come sneaking around here again, or try to blow up our plant. What time is it now?”

“Just two o’clock,” announced Pudge, referring to his nickel watch by the light of the lantern which had not as yet been extinguished.

“Between four and five hours more to put in before day comes ‘a-peeping over the hills,’” half sang Billy, as he started to arrange his rude bed again, for in the haste of their turning out, things had been thrown aside rather recklessly.

There was no further alarm that night. Apparently, those who would have given much to have wrecked the hangar with its contents, so as to prevent its being taken over by the French military authorities, feared to again approach the guarded stockade.

Billy, after all, was the first to discover signs of dawn through the window which was secured with the heavy wire mesh. He immediately aroused the others and they proceeded to get the coffee on the stove.

Just when they would receive the signal was uncertain; so that it was considered the part of wisdom to be prepared in advance.

“I wonder where we’ll take the next meal,” Pudge remarked, as they sat there at the table and satisfied their appetites with what had been prepared.

Billy was about to make some sort of grim joke on the possibility of their not ever needing another “feed,” but on second thought he desisted. It was not a subject to be made fun of, he concluded, because the danger of an accident was always in evidence when far up among the clouds.

“We’ll make up a snack to take along with us,” said wise Frank. “It may come in handy, you know.”

“Pumpkins and partridges, but it does take you to think up things, Frank!” cried Pudge, beaming on his comrade, for that proposal was right in his line of weakness.

“There’s someone at the door, Frank!” announced Billy.

The day was coming on, as Frank could see when he partly opened the door. He discovered a stranger standing there, a swarthy looking, slender man, who was apparently a Frenchman, if appearances went for anything.

“Pardon, but have I the pleasure of addressing M’sieu Frank Chester?” he asked.

“That is my name,” replied the boy. “Have you come from Major Nixon?”

“I have a letter here from that gentleman,” said the other. “It is to prove that my identity is correct. For I am to accompany you on this interesting trip, to discover what strong points your seaplane develops. My name, young M’sieu, is Armand Le Grande.”

Frank was thrilled when he heard the name, for he knew that Major Nixon had been wise enough to send one of the most famous of all French aviators to accompany the Sea Eagle on its dangerous mission.

CHAPTER XVII.

NEWS BY WIRELESS

Frank immediately opened wide the door and bade the other welcome. He even held out his hand, and made the French aviator feel that they were delighted to know he was to be with them.

“First of all be pleased to read what Major Nixon has written here,” said M. Le Grande, after being introduced to the other boys, who were surveying him with natural curiosity, because they, too, recognized his well-known name.

Frank quickly read the contents of the note. It was to the point, for the British officer was a man of comparatively few words.

“My Dear Frank:

With this I introduce my friend Monsieur Armand Le Grande. You know what he has done in your line. He will be your passenger on the trial trip. Remember, you are the sole commander, as M. Le Grande is there simply to take notes, and advise, if you care to ask his valued opinion at any time. The best of luck to you all, and may this day be one never to be forgotten, both here and in the tight little island across the Channel. When we receive word by wireless, I shall let you know over the phone.

Yours sincerely,John Nixon, Major.”

Since Frank knew the handwriting well he could not have any doubt concerning the authenticity of the letter. It happened that he had also seen pictures of the noted French birdman, and they corresponded with the features of the man who had come to them.

If Frank, therefore, had in the beginning entertained the slightest suspicion, it was by now wholly allayed. Sitting there while the newcomer enjoyed a cup of black coffee, they talked in low tones of the contemplated voyage.

It was wonderful to see how calmly they discussed the tremendous possibilities of the great raid by aëroplanes on the enemy’s works. Ten years back, had anyone ventured to affirm that in so short a time scouts would be sailing through the upper currents at the rate of two miles a minute, and even “looping the loop” in a desire to prove their mastery over air, he would have been set down as visionary and a dreamer.

Frank went to the double doors opening on the trestle that ran down to the water and took an observation.

“There is some haze on the sea,” he announced, “but it is rising, and I think we are going to have a fair day for the trip.”

They had made all preparations, so that when the summons came there should be no occasion for unnecessary delay. Knowing that they would find it bitterly cold far up among the clouds while moving at high speed, all of them were careful to don the warmest clothing possible. As they wandered about the interior of the hangar they resembled mummies to some degree; but appearances count for little with the venturesome men who risk their lives while emulating the birds.

All at once there was a quick angry buzz.

“The ’phone, Frank!” cried Billy.

Frank darted over and clapped the French receiver to his ear.

“Hello!” he called.

“Who is it?” asked a voice he recognized as belonging to the Major.

“Frank Chester; is that you, Major Nixon?”

“Yes, has he arrived, Frank?”

“If you mean M’sieu Le Grande, yes. He’s here with us, waiting for the time to come when we make the start.”

“Well, it is here. I have called you up to tell you, Frank.”

“Have you received a message by wireless from across the Channel, sir?”

“We have,” replied the Major. “It told us that the fleet had started from Dover cliffs, and would be across in less than half an hour, if all went well.”

“Good news! You make us happy when you say that. Shall we get out at once and be ready to join them when they show up?”

“Lose no time, for they may be here sooner than expected; and again the best of luck go with you, Frank, my boy. May you and your chums return in safety, and your passenger bring back a glowing report. That’s all; now get busy!”

Frank swung around. His young face fairly glowed with animation and expectation.

“How about it, Frank?” asked Billy, as nervous as ever.

“They’re on the wing and heading this way. Everybody get aboard while I fling open the doors and fix it to start!”

There was no confusion because they all knew exactly what was expected of them, and everyone had his place arranged.

Frank swung aboard as the big seaplane began to move. In another second they had passed beyond the doors and commenced to descend the trestle leading to the surface of the bay.

The seaplane took the water with the grace of a swan. There was something of a splash when the connection was made, but that odd bow so like a spoon had been built especially to spurn the water, and so the craft skimmed along just as a flat stone hurled by a boy’s hand will skip over the surface until its momentum has been exhausted.

“There’s something of a crowd over there watching us, Frank!” announced Billy, as he pointed to the shore, at some little distance away.

“Could they have known about what we expected to do,” remarked Pudge, “or is it just the idle crowd that was chased away yesterday by the guard, come to see what’s on the program for to-day?”

“The chances are some of those spies are among the lot,” Billy said at a hazard.

“If they are they’ll be kicking themselves soon because they can’t get word to their friends up the coast,” Pudge continued, looking as though he considered that he might be going to have the time of his life, as no doubt he was.

Frank did not start up. There was no necessity for doing it, since he had no desire to show off before the Dunkirk people, and it was the part of wisdom to conserve all his resources for the strain that awaited them.

He had his field glasses in his hand, and with these he now began to scan the heavens toward the west, veering a little to the northwest. The others waited anxiously to hear what he might discover.

“Nothing in sight from here,” announced Frank; “but then that was to be expected. We are low down on the water, and there are more or less streaks of haze in the air to interfere with a good view.”

“It’s too soon to look for them, anyway,” added Pudge.

“How long do they expect to be on the journey across the Channel, Frank?” Billy inquired.

“From what Major Nixon said, I should guess from twenty minutes to half an hour,” Frank explained. “It all depends on what air currents they strike, and whether they meet with any accidents on the way.”

“There’s our friend the sergeant waving to us from the shore,” announced Billy. “He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he wants you to understand he wishes you all kinds of good luck.”

“Oh!” suddenly cried Pudge, “what’s that over there, Frank! Focus your glass on it and tell me! I hope it isn’t one of those sassy little Taube machines come to bother us just when we want to be let alone.”

“No fear,” he was told by Frank as soon as he caught the far distant object that had caused this outbreak on the part of the fat boy. “That’s only a gull circling around in the sunlight.”

“Hadn’t we better be up so we can join the fleet without wasting any time?” asked Billy

“No need,” Frank assured him. “I understand that they mean to swing in here, and then make a fresh start straight away up the shore.”

“But why should they come in here at all, when they could just as well have headed straight from Dover to Antwerp and Zeebrugge?” demanded Billy, who with that reporter instinct of his always wanted to know the why and wherefore of everything.

“There are several reasons, I believe,” Frank went on to say. “For thirty seaplanes to cross the Channel with its variable winds is a big feat, and it was to make sure all was well with each member of the fleet that they laid out to start fresh from here. Then, I fancy, several other machines are waiting here to join them, so as to make the raid as big as possible, and strike a note of alarm along the naval bases of the coast.”

“Now I understand better,” admitted the other, always willing to listen to any explanation given by Frank, for whose opinion he entertained considerable respect.

The minutes dragged. Even Pudge manifested unusual impatience, and kept craning his fat neck in the endeavor to scan the sky toward the west, as though in hopes of making a pleasing discovery ahead of Frank with his glasses.

“There goes one man up in his biplane!” remarked Billy, who had happened to turn his head and glance back toward the city, attracted possibly by a distant humming sound that was strangely familiar.

“And a second following him in a monoplane,” added Pudge. “I suppose now those fellows will join the squad that’s meaning to do some damage to interior points like Bruges.”

Both the boys looked toward Frank appealingly, as though they hoped he would think best to follow suit, but he did not make the slightest move. Instead, he held the field glasses again to his eyes as he swept the heavens far to the west for signs of the coming squadron of navy aëroplanes and seaplanes that had left the cliffs of England, sailing high to avoid the fog that lay upon the Channel there.

“It must surely be twenty minutes from the time they started by now,” urged Billy presently.

“Just that to a fraction,” announced Pudge, looking to see.

“They may have met with contrary winds up there and be delayed,” urged Frank. “Because it seems so quiet down here is no sign that the conditions are the same a mile high. Be patient! I expect to soon have some good news for you.”

“I surely hope nothing has happened to break up the tea party, once it’s got off on the trip,” grumbled Billy.

Pudge said nothing more, but sat there watching Frank. He knew they would learn of the coming in sight of the fleet first of all from the one who carried the magnifiers; and hence he kept his eyes on the face of his chum.

When Frank lowered the glasses Pudge gave a soft wheeze, as though he had been fairly holding his breath meanwhile; then as soon as the other started to look again Pudge resumed his former occupation of watching for signs.

Even the longest night must have its end, and this absorbed vigil on the part of the fat boy was not without receiving its reward.

When Frank, on the next occasion, not only hastily lowered the glasses but passed them along to Billy, Pudge knew the crisis had arrived at last.

“There they come!” cried Billy, as soon as he had clapped the smaller end of the field glasses to his eyes. “Oh! what a raft of them I can see! Must be a hundred in that bunch, Frank, anyway, all of fifty if there’s one!”

But Frank knew how Billy was prone to exaggerate, without meaning to deceive.

“Let M. Le Grande take a look, Billy,” he suggested, which aroused the other to a remembrance of the fact that they had as their guest a most famous aviator who should be treated with every consideration.

Pudge did not ask to look. He was too busy watching Frank, who had made as if to turn on the power and start things going. For, after skimming over the surface of the water, the big seaplane would mount up like a bird on the wing.

CHAPTER XVIII.

OFF WITH THE AIR RAIDERS

“Zip! we’re off!” cried Billy, as he heard the familiar whir of the motors, and felt the forward push of the sea and air craft.

Pudge was not so accustomed to being aboard one of the Sea Eagles when starting out on a cruise. His father, knowing the customary clumsiness of Pudge, had preferred as a rule that the fat boy stay upon the solid ground while his more agile chums attempted the aërial stunts.

But Pudge complained so much that Frank had thought it best to let him accompany them on this wonderful journey. It was likely to eclipse anything they had ever experienced before, and must ever remain as a memory worth while.

The speed increasing, they were soon rushing over the surface of the harbor at a furious rate. Then, as Frank slanted the ascending rudder, they left the water to course upward at a low angle, which, however, could be increased as they circled the harbor.

Loud cheers came to their ears from the shore, where that crowd had been standing. They were echoed, too, from several other points, showing that all Dunkirk must be on the alert this morning, as though it might be in the air that wonderful things were about to transpire.

“Are those cheers for us, do you think, Frank, or because they’ve discovered the fleet coming along?” Billy asked, although he had already waved his hand toward the shore.

“It’s hard to tell,” Frank replied. “Though they must have glimpsed the bunch heading this way, and guessed what it all means. I don’t see any person running to hide in a cellar, as they do when the Taubes are around.”

Mounting higher, they waited for the arrival of the fleet. It was a sight never before witnessed. The air was fairly filled with buzzing seaplanes of various patterns, jockeying for position much as is seen on the race course before the signal to start is given by the firing of a pistol.