Blowing up the German munition factory.

AIR SERVICE BOYS
FLYING FOR FRANCE

OR

THE YOUNG HEROES OF THE
LAFAYETTE ESCADRILLE

BY
CHARLES AMORY BEACH
Author of
“Air Service Boys Over the Enemy’s Lines”

ILLUSTRATED BY
ROBERT GASTON HERBERT

NEW YORK
GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

BOOKS FOR BOYS

AIR SERVICE BOYS SERIES
By Charles Amory Beach

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume,
50 cents, net

AIR SERVICE BOYS FLYING FOR FRANCE
Or The Young Heroes of the Lafayette Escadrille

AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE ENEMY’S LINES
Or The German Spy’s Secret

GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

Copyright, 1918, by
GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY

Air Service Boys Flying for France

PRINTED IN U. S. A.

AIR SERVICE BOYS
FLYING FOR FRANCE

CONTENTS

AIR SERVICE BOYS FLYING
FOR FRANCE

CHAPTER I
THE AIRPLANE CHUMS

“Now then, good luck to you, Tom! Tell me how it feels to look down on the world from the clouds.”

“Oh, I expect to have a high old time, Jack—three thousand feet of it, in fact. And my nerves seem to be as steady as ever.”

“You’re a lucky boy, all right, to get this chance to try for altitude after being in the harness at the aviation field for only two months.”

“But my instructor tells me I was born for the life of a birdman, Jack.”

“I know you’ve talked, read, and dreamed of little else these two years back. And now, Tom, at last the germ has caught me almost as fiercely in its grip.”

“Yes, old boy, it means the pair of us working tooth and nail now, learning to fly, so when the time comes, we can take our places for Uncle Sam in the great game. And it isn’t going to be so very far off now, with that fearful war raging across the sea.”

“Well, look out for yourself, Tom. I’m going to keep you in focus with my binoculars every minute of the time. Whenever you take a dip my heart will jump right up into my throat, I know. Lieutenant Carson gave you a limit, of course?”

“I’m to keep one eye on my recording barometer, and when it registers a full three thousand feet in height I’m to commence to volplane down. And my instructor is a man whose orders you’ve got to obey to the letter.”

“No trouble for you to do the trick, Tom, because you come of a family of inventors and dabblers in mechanics. It’s different with me, for I have to pound things into this dull head of mine. I’ll wait around till you drop down again.”

“Wish you would, Jack, for I’ve got something to tell you; news that has been giving me something to worry about.”

“I knew that letter you had must have contained bad news, Tom; and I’ve been waiting to hear you say something about it. There! Lieutenant Carson is waving his hand for you to get a move on. I envy you, that’s a fact. So-long, Tom.”

Another minute, and the airplane in which Tom Raymond sat was trundling along over the even surface of the aviation field, gaining speed as its engine warmed to the work.

Jack Parmly stood and watched with keen interest. Not that he entertained the slightest doubt concerning the ability of Tom Raymond to accomplish this new test which the flying-master had imposed on the aspiring students. Jack believed Tom equal to anything that any other aviator could carry out, given a little time for practice.

They were great friends, and had been ever since childhood. They lived in the town of Bridgeton, Virginia. As Jack had hinted, Tom’s father was an inventor, and several successful labor-saving devices were associated with his name. He had also perfected more than one apparatus useful in the saving of life at sea and in time of accident.

Since the great World War had broken out in Europe Mr. Raymond was devoting his talents to an altogether different task—that of discovering means for bringing the conflict to a speedy close by giving the advantage to the side whose cause he favored.

Tom, usually a quiet, reserved lad, had always been deeply interested in aeronautics. From childhood he had read every book or article he could get hold of that contained accounts of balloon voyages, and later on records of the progress made in airplane building and manipulation.

When the Wrights were starting on their wonderful experiments with a heavier-than-air flying-machine Tom began to lose interest in his school studies, for his brain was filled with the amazing possibilities that awaited a successful termination of their work and that of the French experimenters who were working along similar lines.

Time passed on, and with the breaking out of the European conflict the race to utilize this discovery led to rapid rivalry in the field of aviation. Things were becoming of everyday occurrence that but three years back would have been considered utterly impossible.

The fever continued to burn with ever-increasing strength in Tom Raymond’s veins until he could be restrained no longer. His father, realizing that it was of no use to try to deny him his one consuming wish, made arrangements for him to go to the nearest Government aviation field where a school for novices who aspired to learn how to fly was being organized. This was located in Virginia.

Jack Parmly had anticipated this action, and somehow had managed to influence his widowed mother to allow him to accompany his chum. Mrs. Parmly was of long American lineage and intensely patriotic. Though it grieved her sorely to give up her only son, she believed that his country had the first claim upon his services.

Her husband had been a volunteer officer during the Spanish war; though retiring again to private life at its close; and from away back to the Revolution the Parmly family, as well as her own, had always taken their parts in the wars of their country.

It will be seen, therefore, that these two comrades although quiet and studious came honestly by their adventurous spirit, and also the desire to be of service to their country.

Of course, like all beginners both of the boys had passed through a number of rather thrilling experiences while learning how to manipulate the motors of their airplanes alone. At first an instructor had always accompanied them. They also flew at a low altitude, and by slow degrees advanced along the path of knowledge until finally each was allowed to go up alone.

Once Jack landed with such force that his plane was badly damaged, and he himself had to lay off from work several days because of sundry bruises and contusions received in the tumble.

Then, on another occasion, something happened to Tom’s engine when he was trying his first ascent to a height of a thousand feet or more. When he found that it suddenly refused to obey his bidding Tom felt a spasm of alarm, but he did not lose his head, fortunately.

He started to volplane down, though afraid that his landing would be of a nature to bring about a terrible smash. However, nothing so serious as that occurred, for when two-thirds of the way to the ground his engine began to work again, in response to his eager appeal; and after all he was able to continue his flight.

At present they had both reached a stage in their education that allowed considerable latitude in further ventures. And Tom was now about to undertake a feat that would stamp him as being a genuine aviator capable of attempting extended flights.

Tom had now commenced to fly upward. The little airplane had its nose pointed toward the fleecy clouds floating high in the air above him. Up, and still up the airplane mounted in dizzying spirals. The machine was a good one of modern build, suited for the general work of a novice, still learning how to control his craft alone.

Later on, Tom would discover that the necessities of modern warfare have compelled the cunning artificers of France and Germany and Great Britain to invent a variety of airplanes, each intended for a special purpose. But that was a page in the young fellow’s career not yet turned.

Presently the airplane was almost like a dot in the heavens. Indeed, with the naked eye it was hard to distinguish it from a flying bird. Now and again it temporarily disappeared entirely amidst the white clouds that lay scattered across the sky, to Jack’s eyes resembling marching battalions hurrying to get in battle formation.

Jack, equipped with his powerful glasses, could easily follow the course of his chum. Just as he had said, he did not leave the spot for a minute, but kept faithful watch and ward. He was as deeply interested in the carrying out of Tom’s latest venture as though he himself were the one to profit through its successful issue.

They had been at the aviation school—the first the United States Government really established before breaking into the great war—just two months. Every day that the weather conditions allowed both of the ambitious young fliers kept hard at work under the able army officer connected with the Signal Corps, who had become the instructor in the school.

Tom had advanced so rapidly and shown such evident signs of proving a marvel in the work of flying, that his progress had been much swifter than Jack’s. Already he had been allowed to go up unaccompanied and practice various evolutions that were in line with his steady advancement.

This altitude test was one of the last, just as it is possibly the most nerve-trying. Objects look so very strange when seen from a great distance up in the air; and the conditions surrounding the novice are so greatly in contrast with those closer to the earth, that the first trial trip is always watched with considerable solicitude by the instructor.

Jack heaved a sigh of relief when he discovered that his chum was finally coming down from the dizzy height. Both of them had become proficient in the highly important operation of shutting off the engine, pointing the nose of the airplane toward the earth, and volplaning swiftly downward.

It was one of the very first things they had learned, since it is hardly possible to make a safe landing without a perfect knowledge of this necessary art. Tom came rushing down with increased speed. The wind was whistling in his ears, and without his goggles he would have found it impossible to see on account of the tears the cold atmosphere would have forced into his eyes.

Adroitly, when the proper time came, he changed the line of flight of his airplane to that of the horizontal and the broad wings soon caught the air. Eventually the machine touched the ground with tail and wings at the same time, bumped along for a certain distance, its speed becoming slower and slower until it stopped directly in front of Jack.

“Splendidly done!” exclaimed Jack Parmly, his face beaming with pleasure and pride in his chum. “Tom, you’re surely a wizard when it comes to air work! But all the same I’m glad to see you safe back on the earth again. Here comes Lieutenant Carson to congratulate his most promising pupil.”

The army officer hurried up, hand extended.

“You have fulfilled my expectations fully, Tom,” he said, in his quiet fashion. “Another time you must strive to reach the six-thousand-feet altitude, but there are some other things I’d like to have you become proficient in first. You still have a few faults, common to all beginners. Perhaps they are not very serious in themselves; but even trifles may imperil an aviator’s life, and these should be corrected in the beginning.”

That was all he said, then turned away to give his attention to others among his pupils, for there were a number practicing daily at the new school of aviation. Indeed, the desire to learn to fly was rapidly becoming a fever in the veins of a multitude of daring young Americans; and when the time came for Uncle Sam to need a host of skilled aviators thousands would eagerly avail themselves of the opportunity to serve their country in that fascinating if dangerous way.

Tom had finished his work for the day, and, as Jack was also through, the two walked away in company, to change their clothes at the hangar where they kept their street garments. A mechanician took charge of the airplane, and would see that it was properly cleaned, as well as restored to its shed until needed again. These men took the place of hostlers at the training camp, doing all the ordinary repairing, and fetching the planes out for the fliers when needed.

Later on the two young fellows left the field and proceeded toward the station where they could take a car for town, where they had a room.

“Please don’t forget,” remarked Jack, as they were riding toward the town they called home in those days, “that you promised to let me know what your bad news was. I saw you get the letter, and at first hoped you’d heard something from that steamship company you wrote to. Was it really from home, and did it contain something that hit you hard? I hope it won’t interfere with the plans we’ve been making for going across to France.”

“On the contrary,” said Tom, soberly, “it may hasten my departure. You see, it gives me fresh reason to hate the cause of the Kaiser. But wait until we get to our room and I’ll tell you all about the disaster that has given my father the worst blow of his whole life.”

Jack felt more eager than ever to hear what his comrade had to say. His interest in everything that concerned Tom was almost as keen as though it had to do with his own fortunes. So as soon as they were comfortably seated in their room at a private house in the Virginia town, he turned an expectant face toward the other. His eager expression influenced Tom to keep his promise without delay.

“It concerns a certain invention on which father has been working night and day for nearly a year now,” Tom began.

“Oh! That airplane stabilizer you once told me about?” quickly demanded the other.

“Yes, Jack. It baffled his utmost skill for a long time, but lately he believed he had found the great secret that would make airplanes almost as safe to use as motor cars on the public highways.”

“You always said he was bound to get it if he lived,” Jack went on. “But how was it your father turned to airplane experimentation, when he was never up in one in his life?”

“I suppose my wildness to fly had something to do with it; but there was a stronger motive. Father always looks far into the future; and, like many other people since this terrible war has started and airplanes are taking such a big share in the fighting, he believes that the nation able to muster the most efficient fleet of monster fliers capable of carrying tons and tons of destructive explosives, will win.”

“I see now where you got that idea, Tom; for I’ve heard you speak of it more than once. Yes, and I believe the same thing. That is one reason I’m here at the aviation school learning to serve my country and the cause of democracy in the world. But go on. Tell me more about it.”

“Just when father felt absolutely certain that he had solved the problem,” continued Tom dejectedly, “a terrible disaster came upon him as suddenly as a bolt from the blue.”

“Was it a fire that destroyed his papers and set him back in his calculations?” demanded Jack.

“Oh, much worse than that!” came the answer. “A part of the design was stolen. He says he will in time probably be able to make it good, so that isn’t the worst of it. He fears the stolen paper may get into the hands of the German high authorities on aeronautics and prove of priceless value to them in their further conduct of the war!”

CHAPTER II
LOOKING FORWARD TO ACTION

Jack looked aghast at hearing Tom say this.

“Has he some good reason for fearing such a thing, Tom?” he hastened to ask.

“He has,” came the other’s reply. “There was a German who tried hard to get on friendly terms with my father. He finally hinted very broadly that his Government, in order to secure the secret of the new stabilizer, stood ready to double any amount of money our Government at Washington had offered.”

“Whew! then he must have been a secret agent of Wilhelmstrasse!” suggested Jack, with bated breath.

“There’s not the slightest doubt about it.” And Tom frowned and looked very determined. “No one could have made such a promise unless he was in close touch with the German Legation at Washington and the pay agents of the Kaiser in New York City.”

“Of course your father refused to consider any offer from German sources,” continued Jack, eagerly.

“He was very angry at being approached by an agent of a Government with which the United States was likely to go to war at any time since the Lusitania was sunk. He told this Adolph Tuessig what he thought of his nerve, and I guess must have shown him the door in a hurry, for I know father’s temper.”

“And what happened next, Tom?”

“Well, father was so busy just then on another experiment that he neglected to take proper precautions, a fact he is bitterly sorry for now. The time to shut and lock the stable door is when the horse is still safe inside. But then you know inventors are not like ordinary people, Jack; they live up in the clouds much of the time; and my father was always a great hand for putting off things.”

“Too bad, Tom, for I can begin to see this was one time that failing got him into trouble. So the paper was stolen, was it?”

“No question about it, Jack, for father found his room had been entered, and the safe in which he kept many of his private papers, forced open and rummaged. But as luck would have it, he carried one of the papers in his pocket at the time, so that although the thief took the other away with him, it may be possible that even the clever airplane builders over on the Rhine or on Lake Constance, will have a hard time puzzling out the real meaning of his figures and incomplete design.”

“They are a keen bunch, though,” said Jack, looking worried, “and if they set their minds to it the chances are they’ll succeed in the end. But perhaps the thief may realize he has not secured the precious paper he was after, and on that account fail to deliver it to the German Embassy at Washington?”

“Father hopes that may turn out to be so,” replied Tom. “But remember, Jack, this is to be kept a dead secret. Father has good reasons for not wishing it to become known to the Government yet; though you must understand there’s nothing dishonorable about his motives.”

“I’ll never breathe a word of it, Tom, you can depend on that. But doesn’t he mean to put the case in the hands of the Secret Service men? They might manage to recover the paper before it falls into the hands of the enemy.”

“But to do that, don’t you see, he would have to take the Government into his confidence, which he is loth to do just yet. No, he has hired a detective of national reputation, John Mullins, who is even now on the trail, and he hopes to intercept the thief. But since Washington is not many hours away from our home town by rail, it may be that the precious paper was in the legation safe before my father even learned of his loss.”

“But why should your father hesitate about letting the authorities at Washington know of his loss, Tom? Perhaps they might help him find that paper before the thief had found a chance to get it out of the country.”

Tom sighed heavily.

“I think father has a fear that some jealous rival of his might circulate the report that the paper had not been stolen at all; and that the supposed robbery was only a clever ruse on his part to deceive the Government. In plain words, Jack, that my father, who would die before betraying his country, had conspired to sell his invention at an enormous price to the Germans.”

“That would be a terrible thing for any American to say of another!” Jack asserted, indignantly.

“Still, there are men who would be guilty of throwing out such base hints; and you know how these are magnified by the public. Father is doubly troubled, you can see. I would give a great deal if only I could in some way be able to recover that stolen paper, and put it safely back in father’s hands.”

“You’ve made me feel bad, Tom. I sympathize with your father, because I know from all you’ve told me that he expected this to be the crowning feat of all his inventions. And then, besides, his loss may make Germany the commanding nation of the whole world. Yes, it’s a great misfortune. I wish we could do something to recover that stolen paper.”

“Oh, I’d give years of my life if I only could, Jack! But it’s no use to dream of such a thing. Still, I suppose I will do that very thing—dream of it—and often wake up in the belief that I’ve cornered this Adolph Tuessig and forced him to hand over father’s latest and biggest achievement.”

“I can easily understand just how you feel. It may be the thing will work on my mind too, so that I’ll also dream I’m handing that paper back to your dad, proudly telling him how we hunted the German spy down and forced him to disgorge. But you said this misfortune at home wouldn’t cause you to change your plans any, didn’t you?”

“I shall be more eager than ever to get a whack at the Kaiser, because it was one of his miserable spies who robbed my father of his secret. Our folks have already given their consent, and if only we can get passage aboard a steamer there’s nothing to keep us from going across to France, who is eager to accept all the aviators she can get on the battlelines.”

Jack had apparently been a little anxious concerning this part of the programme. Considerably relieved, he thrust out his hand and squeezed the fingers of his comrade heartily as he went on to say:

“Ever since we concluded to offer our services to France, when we felt satisfied we had learned the rudiments of flying, the idea has taken a firm root in my mind; and, Tom, I’d be terribly disappointed if anything happened to break up our pet plan.”

“No more than I would, Jack. You know my passion for being in the air. And now that this cause for hating the Germans has come along, it’s added fire to my zeal. I tell you it would have to be something pretty serious that could cause me to back down at this late stage.”

“Then,” said Jack triumphantly, “we’re booked for France, if only the steamship people will let us take passage. And from all accounts, they’re not likely to put any obstacle in our way, knowing what our motive is and that we are able to pay their price.”

“But surely by now I ought to have heard something to that effect from the New York agent I wrote to,” argued Tom.

“Better try again,” suggested his companion. “Letters sometimes go astray, you know, and he may never have received it.”

“Oh, I was wise enough to register the letter,” Tom told him; “so I know it was safely delivered. Like as not he’s taking his own time to answer, because sailings are not frequent in these days of submarine horrors. They never advertise what day the boat is expected to leave, always informing would-be passengers to be aboard at a certain time, although the vessel may remain in the harbor for another day or two. All that is done to prevent spies from sending by wireless information connected with the sailing to the other side, and which in turn would be communicated to the waiting U-boats.”

There was a ring of the bell.

“That was the postman, Tom. I wonder now if he had anything for you,” remarked Jack, who chanced to be sitting near the window where he could look out and observe all that was taking place in the street.

“I’ll go down and see,” his chum remarked, jumping up hurriedly; and Jack noticed that Tom, usually so composed and cool, was showing the effect of his late nervous strain in flying, now supplemented by this fresh cause for anxiety.

Tom returned in a few minutes. He held an open letter in his hand. One look Jack took at his beaming face, and then he too jumped hastily to his feet.

“It must be good news, Tom, this time!” he ejaculated.

“Well, it is, for a fact!” shouted the other in excitement. “We’re booked to sail on the twelfth! Here are our instructions to be on hand the preceding evening, ready to start!”

Impulsive Jack threw his arms around his chum, and actually gave him a bearish hug. It was plain to be seen that the greatest ambition of his life was on the point of being gratified, and he was correspondingly happy.

“Then perhaps within two weeks or so we may be standing on French soil, and dropping in at that wonderful aviation school at Pau, about which, since coming here, we’ve heard so much from Lieutenant Carson. Won’t the other fellows be envious though, when they learn about our great good luck? Hurrah!”

CHAPTER III
GOOD-BYE TO THE AVIATION SCHOOL

After the receipt of the letter from the steamship company, things began to happen with increasing swiftness in the lives of Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly.

On the following day they meant to say good-bye to Lieutenant Carson and the assemblage of young fellows who were, like themselves, learning the lessons of aviation under the direction of the capable Signal Corps officer.

First of all they sought out the officer, who had just sent up into the air an assistant with a promising student who showed signs of making his mark in flying, and who was just as eager as the two chums to go across the sea to where they would find stirring action.

“What great news are you bringing with you to-day, boys?” demanded the lieutenant, as soon as he turned and saw them approaching, their faces beaming, and their eyes sparkling with happiness. “But why ask that when I can see you’ve got your wish at last, and that we’re going to lose two of our most advanced pupils from the school here?”

“We sail in six days, Lieutenant,” said Tom, joyously. “I had a favorable letter from the steamship company yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes,” added Jack, unable to keep silent and with heart pounding loudly with happiness against his ribs, “and it’s hard to believe that within twenty days we may be watching those adept French fliers at the great Pau School do all kinds of acrobatic feats up in the air.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, Jack,” warned the more conservative Tom. “Remember we have three thousand and more miles of ocean to cross before we can hope to land on French soil. And in the barred zone dozens of German submarines are waiting to smash our vessel with their villainous torpedoes.”

“One thing I want to do before you leave here to-day for good,” continued the friendly officer. “And that is to give you a letter of introduction to my younger brother. I believe I told you that he was flying for France, and when I last heard from him he was a member of the famous Lafayette Escadrille. You will like Phil, I am sure. He has already won the right to be called an ace, having brought down his fifth enemy plane some months ago.”

“Some day,” said Tom, speaking from his heart, “perhaps both of us may win that honor, and wear the French War Cross in addition. I often dream of such things, you know, Lieutenant, for my every thought is given to flying, and serving the cause of democracy. It must run in the blood, I think.”

When the news went around that the two chums were actually booked to sail for the other side they became the center of a boisterous and envious crowd. Every youth present eyed them with a greedy look, for were they not all longing to have just such a piece of good fortune strike them?

“It’s better to be born lucky than rich!” declared one keen-eyed young man, who was the most advanced of all those in training at the big camp. “I’ve been indulging in dreams that perhaps I’d be the first to sail for France, because my instructor tells me I’m ready to graduate any day now. But the lightning had to strike in another quarter.”

“We’ll be watching for you to follow, Dawes,” said Tom warmly, for he had always liked the young fellow and believed he had a bright future before him. Unless— Well, every one knows what terrible risks aviators take in war times, and that even the best and most wonderful fliers are apt to meet their fate some day while on duty.

Wherever Tom and Jack went they were the center of an admiring and envious crowd. Indeed, for the morning it seemed as though the business of the school was to be sadly interfered with, for this was really the first break in their ranks. Still, the wind was blowing a little too stiffly for any novice to think of ascending, even in company with a skilled pilot.

To go to France! Ah! that was the yearning that burned in the hearts of every one present. Daily they read of wonderful achievements that were being accomplished by those daring birdmen of all the armies in the field, and envy gripped their souls as they dreamed of the glorious day coming when they, too, might be allowed to go to the front, accomplishing deeds that would place their names on the scroll of fame.

Lieutenant Carson did not forget his promise. He managed to dash off the letter of introduction to his younger brother, who was daily risking his life in the service of France, trying to pay back a small portion of the great debt America has owed ever since, in the days of the Revolution, France sent Lafayette and Rochambeau across to help win her independence from Great Britain.

There was a look of deep concern on the stern officer’s face as he handed the letter to Tom.

“It may never be delivered,” he said simply. “The life of an army aviator is a precarious one. To-day he is in perfect health; to-morrow he meets the enemy high in the air, and his end has come. But if Phil is yet alive when you get to the front, tell him his family are proud of what he has already done to stay the hand of the common foe of democracy.”

He turned hastily away on saying this. Jack realized that the younger brother must have been a great favorite in the Carson home, and that news of his meeting a sudden death would come as a terrible blow to those who loved him so dearly. Tom often wondered whether he would ever have the pleasure of meeting Phil Carson in the dim future.

It was now time for the two chums to return to town to pack their belongings and catch the afternoon train for Washington, where they meant to spend a few days before going to their more distant homes.

Business was suspended for the time being in the camp. A score of young fellows, garbed in their flying togs, and ranging from the nearly graduated Dawes to the latest rookie, flocked around them to give a parting handshake and wish them a successful voyage across the water.

Besides, there were many mechanicians and other attaches of the camp who seemed to feel an interest in the fortunes of the pair; though possibly not many of them really aspired to take the same desperate chances that Tom and Jack were about to face.

“Hope the subs don’t get you, boys!” called out one man. “They’re growing pretty hungry, all accounts say, and any day now we expect to hear of another sinking that’ll be nearly as terrible as the Lusitania.”

CHAPTER IV
STARTING FOR FRANCE

“Just to think of it, Tom,” Jack Parmly was saying some time afterwards, as he sat before a fire in his chum’s den, for they had been home some days, “to-night will be the last we expect to spend with our folks for a long while.”

“Yes,” added the other boy, a bit seriously. “And to tell you the truth, Jack, I really wish the parting was over. Father and mother don’t say much, but I can see by their eyes they’ve been lying awake these last nights worrying about me. This parting from the family is the hardest part of the whole business to me.”

“Yes, my mother is trying to smile through it all,” said Jack soberly, winking very fast as he spoke for some reason or other, though Tom did not seem to notice the fact. “She has the soul of a true patriot. Years ago when we were at war with Spain, she let father go to the front without a complaint. My aunt told me that many times she found mother crying in secret; yet to the world she always seemed to be as calm and contented as if father had been at her side. No fellow ever had a finer mother, Tom.”

“There’s only one fly in the ointment, according to my mind,” continued the other, frowning as he spoke.

“I can guess what you mean,” said Jack. “You’re still thinking of that scoundrel, Adolph Tuessig, and how he stole part of your father’s design of his great invention. Tom, I wager the one hope in your heart is that fortune will send you across his path some day or other, when you can perhaps recover the lost paper, or at least repay him for his treachery.”

“You’ve guessed it, Jack! I’d give anything to have just such a chance. Father is beginning to despair of ever getting his invention completed, with that part of his plans lost. He seems to be unable to remember just how the exact combination was to be effected; and the more he worries the deeper his confusion grows. Mother is quite anxious about him on that account.”

“Stranger things than such a meeting have happened, Tom. Let’s hope that just such a chance may come your way before that Tuessig is able to hand over his find to the German headquarters in the Wilhelmstrasse.”

“Strange to say,” mused Tom, “the detective my father employed has been unable to find a single trace of Tuessig. He seems to have disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him up. Men have been kept watching the German Legation at Washington right along, because the ambassador is getting into pretty deep water, and is apt to receive his walking papers any day; but Tuessig hasn’t been there.”

“Then,” said the hopeful Jack, “perhaps he doesn’t feel satisfied to hand in only an incomplete prize. He may be holding on in the hope of yet being able to steal the rest of your father’s secret.”

Jack soon took his departure. He hardly knew whether he felt joyous or depressed over the near approach of the day when he was to start for New York, there to board a trans-Atlantic steamer bound for the warring country beyond the sea. There were times when Jack’s heart beat high with delightful anticipations; and then again the sight of his widowed mother’s pale face, with its forced smile whenever she thought he was looking, gave him a severe pang.

Tom spent a quiet evening with his family. His father and mother, as well as Oscar, a lad of twelve, and Phoebe, a six-year old sister, hovered over him constantly, and the talk was as cheerful as could be expected under the conditions.

Finally Tom kissed his mother good-night and went to his room. He was gulping down the emotions that struggled in his heart, for it is indeed no light thing for a boy to part from all he loves and go forth to risk his life in the service of mankind.

The boy found it hard to lose himself in sleep. His thoughts roved far afield as he endeavored to lift the curtain of the future and catch faint glimpses of the wonderful things that might be lying in store for him in the land across the sea, where the hand of war had been laid so heavily.

At last he sank into an uneasy slumber. Just what time it was when he suddenly awoke Tom would have found it difficult to say had he been asked. He heard all manner of queer sounds welling up to his partly-opened window from the yard. There were loud and explosive ejaculations in a masculine voice, fierce yappings from the dog, Duke, and then certain suspicious crashing noises as though some person might be striving to clamber hastily over the high fence that ran around the Raymond premises.

Tom leaped to his feet and hurriedly slipped into some of his clothes, though in his excitement he could hardly manage his dressing, even after he had turned on the electric light. Having accomplished this after a fashion, he picked up a baseball bat as the best weapon of defense within reach, and then hurried down to the front door.

His father called to him as he descended the stairs.

“Be careful of the dog, Tom! He’s back in the yard and growling furiously. Speak to him as you go out. I’ll join you shortly. I believe he must have the thief cornered somewhere.”

That gave Tom a pleasant thrill, for he fully believed the man must be the same bold intruder who had stolen the paper from the safe on that former occasion. He had undoubtedly returned in hopes of securing another prize, and thus completing the object of his previous visit.

Swinging his baseball bat as he ran, Tom hastened around the house. The moon was hidden from view behind clouds, but for all that it was not dark, and Tom could see some object moving over in one corner of the back yard.

A rather high fence surrounded Mr. Raymond’s property. Near the top of this Tom made out a struggling figure that he took to be a man. As he dashed forward and drew closer he discovered what it all meant.

The thief on being attacked by the bulldog had attempted to climb over the fence. Before he could draw himself wholly out of reach the animal had made an upward leap, and fastened those terrible teeth of his in the seat of the fellow’s trousers as he hung suspended there.

Duke was swinging back and forth like an animated pendulum, growling most ferociously. The alarmed man continued to strain every muscle while striving to drag himself up, but with that added weight holding him back he had until that moment been unable to accomplish this task.

On hearing Tom shout out to the dog however, a new spasm of alarm caused the thief to struggle still more strenuously. Then the cloth of his trousers gave way, and suddenly the dog fell back to the ground, while the man, with great alacrity, slipped over the top of the high board fence.

The animal commenced to race about shaking the fragment of cloth he still held between his teeth. Tom made for the back gate, threw the bar aside, and ran out. He heard his father calling to him to be careful, but so long as he gripped such a good weapon as that heavy ash bat he had no fear of the result, should he be fortunate enough to overtake the thief.

The dog came rushing after him, and Tom gave the animal an encouraging word. But after all he was doomed to disappointment, for the man had obtained a start of half a minute at least, which was long enough for his purpose.

When Tom heard the familiar throb of a motor working near by he realized that the intruder had come prepared for hasty flight in case of discovery. Then a car sped away with a great roaring of the unmuffled engine.

Keenly disappointed, and yet pleased to know that the would-be robbery had not occurred, Tom retraced his steps. His father met him just inside the grounds.

“Then he got away clean and clear, did he?” asked the gentleman, who of course guessed the state of affairs when he first heard the sound of a speeding car.

“I don’t know about clean and clear, Dad,” Tom told him. “Come here, Duke, and let’s see what you’re shaking so savagely.”

It was only with some difficulty that Tom persuaded the bulldog to let him have the article. He held this up and then laughed.

“Why, it’s pretty nearly the entire seat of a pair of trousers, father,” he explained. “The dog was hanging to him like the pendulum of a grandfather clock, and fighting like everything to drag him down. But the cloth gave finally, which allowed the scamp to tumble over the fence and get away.”

Mr. Raymond took the spoils of Duke’s attack and examined it under the glare of a little hand-electric torch he was carrying with him.

“The teeth of the dog drew blood, as you can see, my boy,” he remarked, holding the article out to Tom. “I should say that rascal will have a most decided limp to his gait for some days to come.”

“Then everywhere I go I’ll keep on the lookout for any man who walks with a cane, and limps as though each step caused him pain,” suggested Tom, perhaps in a semi-humorous mood, though he hardly felt as though the subject was one to be treated lightly.

“Perhaps I had better send this fragment of cloth to the detective who’s looking for Adolph Tuessig,” continued Mr. Raymond reflectively. “It might afford him an excellent clue, in case he manages to find the German secret agent of the Kaiser.”

“You seem to feel absolutely certain, Father, that this man must have been the same thief who visited the house before.”

“There is no question about it in my mind, Son,” returned the other firmly. “He has realized that what he managed to secure is only a fragment of the whole; and so he either came back himself, or else sent an accomplice, to try to find the rest of the papers containing my secret invention.”

As the air was cold, and neither of them had fully dressed, the two spent no more time in the open, saying a last word of commendation to the dog, and then retiring indoors.

In the morning Tom investigated, and could easily see where the would-be thief had scrambled so hastily over the fence; for footprints led to the spot, and by looking closely he could even detect tiny specks of a suggestive red stain on the boards, that told the tragic story.

When Jack came he showed a tremendous amount of interest in the story, and had to be taken over the whole ground, as well as pet Duke and compliment him on his staying qualities. To all of this praise the bulldog seemed to listen with more or less appreciation, if the jerking of his abbreviated tail could be accepted as evidence.

That day would see them off. The minutes dragged in a way, because both boys were becoming very nervous over the parting scenes, which they dreaded a little. But it was over at last, and they boarded the afternoon train bound for New York.

When they arrived in the great metropolis the afternoon was well on toward its close. Indeed, already the shades of evening had begun to gather as they took a taxicab and with their steamer trunks rode down to the dock from which their vessel was to leave at some indefinite time, perhaps before sunrise on the morrow.

As they arrived at the great bustling dock it was to find that electric lights blazed and stevedores were hustling to finish loading the vessel to the limit, while intending passengers were dodging the rushing trucks or entering through the passenger entrance or hurrying over the gangplank.

It was a scene of considerable commotion on which the two comrades gazed as they paid their driver, and then saw to it that their steamer trunks, bags and smaller packages were started for their stateroom. Then they hurried to board the gray monster that lay alongside the dock almost ready to start for the danger zone, where waiting German undersea vessels lurked, watching for their prey like tigers in the jungle hungry for a meal.

It was just at this moment that Tom caught his companion’s arm in a tense grip, while he hissed in his ear:

“Look at that taxi driving wildly away, will you, Jack? A man thrust his head out, and stared right at us just before the chauffeur started off so furiously. And Jack, I recognized his face! My father had a photograph of Adolph Tuessig which the detective obtained for him somehow or other. Yes, that man in the taxi was the slippery German who robbed my father! And he must know who we are, as well as why we’re starting across to France!”

CHAPTER V
THE SECRET SAILING

Jack showed signs of excitement when his comrade made such a startling announcement. He stared after the departing taxicab and acted as though more than half inclined to dash away in pursuit.

“Oh, what a shame that we have to let him get away in that fashion, Tom!” he exclaimed in a disappointed tone. “Where can that detective be hanging out, not to be able to find the German spy? If only we could have him nabbed, perhaps we might be able to recover that paper.”

“It was out of the question, you see, Jack,” the other told him sadly. “There, the taxi has disappeared now in the ruck of vehicles, all trying to get in and out of the pier here, where everything is being rushed like fury. But even if I had Adolph Tuessig arrested, what charge could I make against him, when we haven’t a shred of real proof that he was the one who entered our house?”

“I guess you’re right there, Tom,” admitted the other dejectedly. “I’m always ready to do things on impulse, but you have a reason back of you every time you act. He’s gone for good now, anyhow, so nothing can be done. But it roils me to think of our seeing him just when— Oh, Tom!”

“What’s struck you now?” demanded the other, seeing Jack’s face lighten up all of a sudden.

“Why should Adolph Tuessig be coming down to this steamer if he hadn’t meant to go aboard?” continued Jack, again showing excitement. “Seeing us frightened him off, apparently, but then he may come back again later, and sneak aboard.”

Tom looked serious, as though digesting the suggestion advanced by his chum.

“Well, there might be some truth in that idea, Jack,” he finally remarked.

The two youths went aboard the steamer. The passengers were looking rather subdued, and while there were affecting leave-takings, little of the customary merriment connected with these sailings for Europe was manifested.

The reason was not difficult to understand, for even the neutral gray color of the once jet black steamship told of perils of the sea entirely foreign to such ordinary things as gales and floating icebergs. Vessels went into that barred zone with the nerves of those aboard keyed up to a tense pitch and sleep was a stranger to their eyes for perhaps two whole nights of terror and anxiety.

The boys meant to stand watch until the steamer left her dock, some time toward the middle of the night. They wished to discover whether Adolph Tuessig really came aboard and if they were fated to have him as a fellow passenger on their voyage across.

“In one sense it would be a good thing for us,” Tom remarked, as they stood by the rail and watched the bustling scenes going on below, where the dock was crowded by a jostling throng of stevedores, porters hurrying baggage aboard, passengers still arriving, friends leaving sorrowfully, some of them weeping as though heartbroken.

“Tell me what you mean,” demanded his companion.

“Well, if Tuessig had picked on this vessel on which to cross, we might count it as a sort of insurance that nothing unusual was going to happen to us. If he is, as we strongly suspect, a secret agent of the German Government, he would be apt to know just what special steamers the subs were ordered to try to catch napping. Perhaps this one isn’t loaded with the munitions they aim to sink whenever they can.”

“But I’m afraid we’ll never be able to keep watch here for hours, Tom. Already I’m beginning to shiver like everything, on account of that chilly wind coming down the Hudson River. And besides, it’s about time dinner was announced; for we were told we’d get that meal aboard.”

Just as they were about to turn away and seek the warm saloon Jack pointed to a large and handsome motor car that had managed to force its way through the tangle of vehicles and rolling trucks, and from which some people, evidently intending passengers, were alighting.

“As pretty a young girl as ever you set eyes on, Tom,” he hastened to say, for Jack was much fonder of girls’ society than his chum had ever shown himself to be. “I hope we shall get to know her before the voyage is over. Just take a peep and tell me if she hasn’t got other girls beaten a mile for good looks.”

To please his chum Tom did glance that way. He saw a diminutive girl who could hardly have been more than twelve years of age, and scarcely looked even that; but she was remarkably attractive, so far as rosy cheeks, dancing eyes, and a wealth of golden hair went. In spite of her apparent lack of years, there was a grown-up air about her that some girl babies seem born with and that makes friends for them among older people from the start.

“Yes, she is as pretty as a peach, for a fact,” Jack’s chum admitted. “I suppose I’ll see little of your company if ever you get to be on speaking terms with such a fairy. But there goes the call to dinner,” he added as a steward was seen hurrying to a number of the passengers bending over the rail and watching the busy scene below, to say something to each in turn, and point toward the companionway leading to the dining saloon.

Later on, before the boys were through eating dinner, they discovered the girl again. She was given a seat at the same table as the boys, and Jack could consequently feast his eyes on her pretty face to his heart’s content.

There was a man with her, who may have been her father, though Tom made up his mind that there could be very little real affection between the two, for the girl acted as though she secretly feared her guardian, while on his part the man with the snappy eyes and rather cynical cast of features frowned often when speaking to his young companion.

Somehow Tom was himself becoming mightily interested in the girl, a fact which would be apt to surprise Jack when he learned it. He wondered what the relationship between man and girl could be, and why they were taking these desperate chances to cross to the other side at a time when no one dreamed of making a pleasure voyage.

Again the two chums sought the outer air. It was even more disagreeable than earlier in the evening, and they could not stay very long. A raw wind whistled down the broad North River, as the Hudson is called at New York City, and seemed to bring with it reminders of fields of ice that were still lingering far up toward the border of the Catskills.

“We’d better give it up as a bad job,” suggested Tom after awhile, “and keep in where it’s warm. Either he’s safe aboard by this time, or else he doesn’t mean to sail on this boat, now that he knows we’re going.”

“Yes,” admitted even the sanguine Jack, “he may take a notion we’ll give him away to the British authorities, and cause his arrest as a German spy. Though I’ve no doubt he’s clever enough to have a false passport that describes him as a Swede, or perhaps a Swiss going home to do his bit in guarding the Alpine frontier against the Huns. But we can keep our eyes open all the time, Tom, while we’re aboard.”

When the other passengers learned the nature of their mission many of them expressed the most intense interest in the two chums. More than one mature man declared he stood ready to take off his hat to such brave lads, and wished them all manner of good luck.

They sat up until a late hour, and were thrilled when it was learned that the vessel was even then being towed out from her berth into mid-stream by a fleet of powerful tugs. Even these usually noisy little monsters seemed to have their mufflers on, for they accomplished their work with but a fraction of the customary whistling and puffing and snorting.

The boys bundled up and went on deck to watch what took place. Leaving an American port during wartime was an entirely different thing from what it had been in other days. Silence and mystery had taken the place of whistle-blowing and music and loud salvos of cheers. Now the spectators stood and strained their eyes for a last look at those friends aboard the departing steamship, whom possibly they were fated never to see again in this world.

Tom and Jack stood on deck and looked back toward the overhead light that marked the torch in the hand of the Statue of Liberty. Long they stayed and paced the deck when chilled by the night air. Now and then they turned to look back to where the great city slept, secure, by reason of the vast ocean’s width, from aerial bombardments and guarded against attacks from hostile battleships by the eternal vigilance of the Allied fleet by which the Germans were bottled up in their home waters at Kiel.

Ahead of them lay the broad Atlantic. They were now headed for the danger zone. Presently they would come to that sector which the German high command had marked as the cruising ground for their insatiable submarine rovers. Behind each and every rolling billow might lie a concealed peril, but the hearts of those two chums felt no fear as they looked forward with confidence to the work to which they had dedicated their lives.

CHAPTER VI
NEARING THE BARRED ZONE

Some days passed.

The big steamer, headed toward her goal, which was a harbor in the south of England, kept pushing through the vast expanse of water. The boys would have preferred sailing on a French vessel, but at the time could secure no booking.

As Jack had said, “half a loaf is better than no bread;” and once across the Atlantic they would not have a great deal of trouble jumping over to France, since the Channel was so narrow that on clear days one could see the white chalk cliffs of Dover from the other side.

Nothing out of the way had happened so far on the voyage, but every one knew the critical days and nights were yet to come. The boys had made numerous acquaintances aboard, but, acting on the advice of Lieutenant Carson, they had spoken of their own affairs as little as possible.

Like many others of the passengers, they amused themselves at odd times in playing deck quoits and shuffleboard. There was enough of interest in both games to engage their attention, though Jack declared them “effeminate,” having been immersed in the national game of baseball, and even a promising player on the high-school football squad at the time he graduated.

Still, some such employment helped to pass the dull hours away. It also took the minds of the travelers away from the terrible perils to which each hour carried them nearer. And how many times, even while thus engaged, and in an apparently boisterous humor, those aboard would look anxiously toward the beckoning east.

Somewhere in that region, as they well knew, lurked those terrible undersea boats manned by German crews on the constant watch to sink any laden steamer that crossed their path. And this knowledge never left them, night or day. While awake it haunted their minds and took up much of their conversation; when asleep there came dreams that caused them to open their eyes in sudden fear, and then be very thankful that it was not yet a reality.

Jack had easily succeeded in making the acquaintance of the young girl who had attracted his attention at the time of the embarkation. In fact, he found her not in the least averse to talking to him when the first opportunity arose. Jack plumed himself on this circumstance at the time, and fancied that it was because he had an attractive air about him. Later on these aircastles crumbled into ruins and dreadful suspicions arose.

He often played deck quoits with Bessie Gleason, as Jack learned her name was. She was mature in her ways, and yet full of fun. Jack liked her more as he came to know her; and yet in spite of this he admitted to Tom that there was something a bit queer about the girl which he could not quite fathom.

He was talking of her that afternoon when, with his chum, he sat in an exposed part of the promenade deck taking a sun-bath. The day was pleasant, and there was just enough warmth in the sun’s rays to make it delightful to loll there.

The sea was fairly rough, and the billows had their foamy crests whipped off as with a knife when breaking in the wind, to be carried away in the shape of spume or spray. The favorite occupation of most of the travelers just then was to sit and look across the heaving waters, their anxious eyes searching for any object that by a stretch of the imagination could be transformed into the periscope of a submersible waiting to shoot a torpedo at the unprotected side of the steamer.

“I never had any girl puzzle me as much as Bessie Gleason does, and that’s a fact, Tom,” Jack remarked thoughtfully.

“What do you mean by that remark?” demanded the other, looking at him with sudden interest.

“Why, she changes all of a sudden from a fit of merriment, and becomes as sober as an old maid,” explained Jack, as though he had been meditating over the matter for some time and could not reach any satisfactory explanation.

“Oh, that isn’t so queer after all,” chuckled Tom. “There are plenty aboard this boat who are afflicted with sudden losses of memory. I’ve had men talking to me lose the connection of what they were saying; and when I looked up it was to find them shading their eyes with a hand and staring hard ahead over the bows of the steamer, as if they felt a horrible suspicion that there was something like a stick standing up out of the water.”

“And then there’s that man who she says is her legally-appointed guardian,” continued Jack, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I confess I don’t like him a little bit!”

“But you haven’t even spoken with him, you told me yesterday,” ventured Tom.

“That’s true enough,” the other admitted. “But I’ve watched him when he thought I was dozing in my chair, and, Tom, he’s keeping a precious close eye on you, I want to say.”

“And why on me?” demanded Tom, looking surprised and interested. “Until this morning, when Bessie came up to me while I was looking over the rail and started to talk about our going across to France, I hadn’t really exchanged a dozen sentences with the girl. Huh! if anybody should be watched I rather think his name might be Jack Parmly!”

“I don’t know why he should seem so much interested in you,” continued the other, “but it’s a fact. Why, Tom, I chanced to see him speak to the girl just before she joined you this morning, and I give you my word it struck me the man was scolding Bessie, as if she had refused to do something he wanted of her. And then, with a look on her face that was close to reluctance, she walked over to where you stood, and spoke to you.”

“Do you mean to say you believe Mr. Potzfeldt seemed to force his ward to enter into conversation with me, and perhaps get me to talking about our mission in France?” he exclaimed.

“Please don’t speak quite so loud, Tom,” urged his chum. “I give you my word that’s just the way it did strike me. Queer, wasn’t it, now? Why under the sun should he want her to cultivate your acquaintance particularly?”

“Who is this guardian of Bessie Gleason?” asked Tom. “His name is a German one, but one gentleman I talked with assured me he was a naturalized American and carried his papers around with him, so that he might not be de-barred from landing in England.”

“Yes,” added Jack, anxious to add his mite to the slender mass of information they had been able to accumulate, “and another man told me Carl Potzfeldt fairly bubbles over with enthusiasm for the glorious Stars and Stripes. He says he looks on Germany as a nation gone mad, and agrees that sooner or later Uncle Sam will have to shy his hat into the ring to help hog-tie the wild beast.”

“All of which sounds very fine,” agreed Tom, with a curl to his lip. “But in these days who can know what the real sentiments deep down in the heart of such a man may be? A spy would naturally be loud in his talk of loyalty to the flag, in order to hide his genuine sympathies.”

“Another thing you ought to know, Tom,” continued the other, “though up to now I haven’t mentioned it to you. Bessie Gleason asked me to introduce her to you. Yes, and she acted, well, peculiar when saying that she’d like to meet you. She’s a knowing one for her years, and at the time I thought it was only the coquetry of the girl playing shy and bold; but now I’ve got another idea gripping me.”

“Go on and tell me what you think, because all this is getting mighty interesting to me,” urged Tom.

“I feel almost certain she made that request at the command of her guardian, Carl Potzfeldt,” announced Jack sturdily. “Now I think her manner was one of embarrassment, as though she felt ashamed of playing a mean part but was compelled to do as she was told.”

Tom frowned. From his serious manner it was plain to be seen that he attached considerable importance to the astonishing thing his companion was telling him.

“If what you suspect is really a fact, Jack,” he remarked soberly, “there’s only one explanation for it that I can see.”

“You believe this Carl Potzfeldt may have some invisible connection with that Adolph Tuessig, the chap we suspect of being aboard this very steamer, hiding under some false name—or another name, for Adolph Tuessig may be an alias—and keeping to his stateroom during the day. Is that it, Tom?”

“Just what I had in mind, Jack. You know we’ve done our best to find out if that German spy is aboard this ship, and have tried to run down information about that man whose name has not been entered on the passenger list, and who came aboard late just before we sailed.”

“Yes,” hastily added the other musingly, “and the steward we interviewed, who carries the sick man’s meals in to him, says he has the appetite of a horse; so we kind of suspect his keeping to his stateroom may be a blind after all. Once late in the night, you remember, you ran into a stranger who was muffled to the eyes, and who hurried away when you begged his pardon. Ever since you’ve been wondering if he was the sick man, and who might yet turn out to be that slick German spy, masquerading as a Swede; or a Swiss perhaps.”

“Altogether it’s getting to be a pretty mixed-up mess I must say,” Tom continued. “If we have a pair of them aboard this boat, plotting to do something or other, it’ll pay us to keep our eyes open wider than ever, Jack!”

CHAPTER VII
SECRET ENEMIES ABOARD

“One thing sure,” Jack went on to say positively: “That girl is a true-blue Ally. She told me so, and you couldn’t look in her eyes and believe she could deceive. If she’s acting a part at all, under orders, Tom, take it from me she hates her job like everything.”

Tom seemed inclined to agree with his chum, though he had seen very little of Bessie Gleason.

“Well, when she quizzed me, you know, Tom, about my being afraid when up in the clouds, of course I felt that I had to explain that so far I hadn’t felt a grain of fear, only delight, when spinning along at eighty miles an hour in an airplane. Yes, I told her a few things about what we hoped to do. But then anybody who knows we’re bound for a French aviation school could understand all that.”

Jack evinced a sudden inclination to leave the company of his chum.

“Excuse me now, will you, Tom?” he observed, with a smirk; “but I’m going on the hurricane-deck to have a little promenade with Bessie. She asked me to meet her up there around two this afternoon; in fact slipped me a little note when leaving the dining-saloon this noon. I rather think she has got something special she wants to say to me. And, Tom, if it’s of any importance, mind, I’ll let you know about it.”

“Wish you would,” the other flashed after him as he hastened away; and from the sober expression on his face it could be seen that Tom felt an interest much deeper than mere passing curiosity in the matter.

Some time afterwards he was sitting in his deck chair, warmly wrapped in his Scotch plaid steamer rug when he saw Jack hurriedly approaching. Tom understood that his chum must have some news worth while to tell him, if the look on his face counted for anything.

Before throwing himself down in his own chair, Jack looked cautiously in both directions. It chanced that there were few passengers abroad just then. A bundled-up figure dozed in a chair at some little distance forward; and further aft a woman who was going over as a Red Cross nurse at the front, was sitting reading a magazine.

“I imagine you’ve struck something worth while, old fellow,” suggested Tom.

“Well, I have,” was the reply, in a comparatively low tone. “Tom, after all I guess our suspicions were pretty near the mark.”

“About Carl Potzfeldt do you mean?” demanded Tom instantly.

“He knows about your father and his invention that threatens to revolutionize aerial warfare and give the side possessing it a vast advantage in the war,” Jack hastened to say breathlessly.

“Well, I’m not much surprised. I seemed to feel he was German at heart, even if he does wear a little flag emblem in his buttonhole and is continually boasting of his loyalty. Did Bessie tell you this, Jack?”

“She did. The poor little thing wilted and cried when she confessed that her guardian had made her try to learn all about us—what we were going over to France for, and even if we expected to make some sort of bargain that would mean a fortune for your father.”

Tom ground his teeth in sudden rage.

“Just like some of those mercenary Germans!” he muttered. “They can think only of bargain and sale. Even now they firmly believe my father means to get the biggest price he can from some Government. They think Adolph Tuessig made a blunder in not bidding high enough for the secret of the stabilizer.”

“And that you are being sent across to France with the design of the invention hidden in your luggage, so as to make a bargain with the Allies for handing it over to them. I guess they don’t know the patriotism of your father, Tom.”

“I should say not!” and Tom’s face took on a tender expression.

“It was terrible to see that poor girl crying as she tried to tell me how she hated to do as her guardian forced her,” Jack continued, with a look of concern on his young face that spoke well for his sympathetic heart.

“Then that was why she wanted to see you, was it?” asked Tom, “and why she slipped you that note at dinner-time?”

“Just what it is was. She said Mr. Potzfeldt had ordered her to keep trying to find out all about our mission to France. More than that, she was to manage in some way to turn the conversation when with you around to your father, whose name as an inventor is widely known. She was to ask questions about his work, and in every way possible try to discover whether it was in his interests you were not really heading for France.”

Tom was startled.

“Well, one thing good about it,” he hastened to say. “From now on we know where this Carl Potzfeldt stands. He may pose as a loyal American citizen, but deep down in his heart he is for the Kaiser. Whether he is a spy, as that Adolph Tuessig surely is, we can’t be positive; but I wouldn’t trust him a minute.”

“Tom, the girl was almost broken hearted. She isn’t the kind to fancy playing a double part, and deceiving other people. Any one must see her eyes are as frank and truthful as can be.”

“Did she tell you anything about her guardian, Jack—whether he might really be a naturalized citizen of Uncle Sam, or just sailing under false colors and a borrowed passport?”

“I wanted to ask her that, but say, I didn’t have the nerve, she seemed to feel so unhappy. Then, as if she couldn’t stand it any longer, she rushed away from me and descended to the other deck. When I followed she had disappeared from view, and I suppose had sought refuge in her stateroom, for she has one, you know, shared by that Red Cross nurse over yonder.”

“Now, I’ve got something to tell you that may be of interest,” remarked Tom, in turn. “You remember that we marked the stateroom occupied by that mysterious sick passenger who has never come on deck in the daytime since boarding the boat?”

“Yes,” Jack instantly snapped, “it was Number Seventy-seven, for I made a mental note of it. And a dozen times I’ve passed out of my way just to stare at the closed door, thinking how much I’d like to see what lay on the other side, and if that man could really be your Adolph Tuessig.”

“Well, a little while ago, after you left me to go up and walk the hurricane-deck with Bessie Gleason, I had occasion to go to our stateroom for my binoculars, and who should I see coming out of Number Seventy-seven but Potzfeldt!”

Jack uttered an exclamation of mingled surprise and delight.

“Good for you!” he ejaculated. “That settles it, I should say! The pretended sick man is Adolph Tuessig all right; and he’s in thick with this boastful naturalized American citizen who wears Old Glory in his buttonhole and tells how much he wishes he were a younger man so he could enlist under Uncle Sam. It makes me sick!”

“As they say in the story books, the plot thickens,” Tom continued. “Somehow or other Adolph doesn’t seem to take much stock in our crossing over to fly for the country we in America admire above all others just now. He thinks all Yankees must be mercenary, and that I’m carrying the completed design of father’s wonderful invention with me, to sell it for a vast sum to the Allies.”

“Tom, after this you’ve got to be more careful than ever how you hang over the side of the boat when dark sets in,” cautioned Jack. “It would be easy enough for a strong and desperate man to throttle you, search your person, and then chuck you overboard. Such men who could remorselessly sink women and babies aboard the Lusitania wouldn’t hesitate about sacrificing one single life in the interest of the Fatherland.”

“Oh, come, let’s quit this sort of talk for a while, Jack. It’s beginning to wear on our minds too much. We’ll exercise all reasonable caution, and they’ll find it a tough job to catch either of us napping. I challenge you to a game of deck quoits. That ought to keep us busy for an hour or so.”

Jack, nothing loth, laughingly accepted the bantering offer, and so they were soon tossing the covered rings back and forth in the endeavor to drop them one after another over the stake that represented the goal. It was not a very exciting amusement, but sufficed to divert their minds and keep them from worrying about the things they wished to forget temporarily.

When the hour was up Jack declared he had had quite enough, and was so far behind that there seemed no possible chance for him to catch up that time.

“I’ll give you another turn to-morrow,” he told Tom. “That is, if everything goes on well and we haven’t run afoul of one of those slinkers with the torpedo tubes that are waiting for us to cross their path. I’ll step down to our room, and get a fresh handkerchief. You see I insisted on Bessie taking my other to dry her tears with, and, well, she carried it away when she left me so suddenly.”

Jack walked away and Tom again sought his chair, and lay back to glance across the heaving waters once more, although not in the expectation of making a discovery.

The afternoon was almost done. With the approach of night it was commencing to get chilly again, so that the youth was glad to tuck his steamer rug about his legs as he reclined at his ease.