Jack saw desolation down there. For a space of a hundred feet, he judged, earth and rocks and camouflage material had been thrown in every direction by the falling shells, a dozen or more in number and of the most destructive character known. A vast gaping hole told where the nest had been.
Not a single man of all those waiting Boche gunners could have escaped destruction. Jack could see the bodies of several hanging from the neighboring trees, from which in turn most of their branches had been stripped.
He turned an awe-stricken face to Morgan as he cried out:
"Send them the hold-up signal, Morgan, to tell them they've knocked the nest to flinders and that there's no need of wasting another shot on it!"
CHAPTER VIII
IN THE RED TRIANGLE HUT
NIGHT had come again. The work of the day was over, and weary khaki-clad fighters could rest For they must be fit for the duties of the succeeding day, which, like all recent ones, would bring its new dangers, glories, and no doubt pain and death for untold numbers of their fellows.
Still, in the camps where they were gathered that night, it would have been hard to run across a single soldier who showed a sign of discouragement or concern. Already they bore themselves with the mien of veterans, ready to joke and laugh, and swarming to the Red Triangle huts for a breath of entertainment, a glimpse of a rosy cheeked "home girl"
in the midst of all this ghastly business of tragic warfare.
There Tom found Jack and Harry when he turned up rather late that night.
He, too, had had a heavy and exciting though successful day's work in the air, as had Jack. Nevertheless, on his return he had asked and received permission to absent himself from quarters for a time.
Of course there was need of consultation with the accommodating hospital nurse concerning the disposition of little Jeanne, the ward of the trio, Jack, Tom, and Nellie, and Tom did not wish to neglect his duty--nor his opportunity.
Late though it was, there still lingered a goodly crowd in the old dugout once occupied by a number of German officers, but now taken possession of by the girls and men who wore the uniforms of Y. M. C. A.
workers, when Tom reached it.
An old piano had somehow been brought along, and this was in almost constant use, for numbers of the boys could play; and as for singing there was an almost continuous chorus bawling out favorite songs, such as "Over There," "Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag," "When You Come Back," and the like.
When some daring man ventured to play "Home, Sweet Home," however, not a sound was heard; and apparently many of the loudest talkers found something wonderfully important in the magazines they chanced to have before them, to judge from the way they bent persistently over while reading. But then no soldier wants his comrades to see that his eyes are swimming in tears, as pictures of those at home dawn upon his vision.
Tom quickly found his two comrades, to be instantly met with a rush of remarks that, however, fell from him as water would from a duck's back.
"You seem pretty happy, I must say!" observed Harry, grinning, for he understood what an attraction that pretty sister of his was to Tom.
"Oh, everything looks lovely, and the goose hangs high, whenever Tom has spent an hour in Nellie's company," Jack remarked, going on with the teasing.
"Seems to me, Jack," said the object of this joking, "that you're in something of the same box yourself. What important news did Bessie have in that letter you got this evening, and which you thought I didn't see you smuggle into your pocket on the sly?"
"Oh, I don't mind telling you," Jack announced smiling. "Meant to later on anyway. Why, do you know, Bessie has become a Red Triangle worker now, as she and her mother had been transferred to that service. She said there was some talk of letting them come along here to the American front, since Mrs. Gleason had expressed a wish to do her bit within hearing of the guns."
"That sounds good to me, Jack," remarked Harry.
"Do you know," added Tom, "I had a suspicion there was a hen on in that nest just from a remark Nellie made about hoping to see Bessie before long. Wouldn't explain what she meant, either; so I reckon it's a put-up job between the girls."
"Well, they have become quite fond of one another, you know," Jack suggested.
Harry pretended to look huffed.
"All very fine," he grumbled; "but where do I come in, I'd like to know?"
"Huh! what about some of those pretty French girls I've heard you raving over, Harry? You might choose one and study French under her direction.
Plenty of our boys are doing it, and seem to be pleased."
"If it comes to the worst," added Jack, soberly, "he can wait for little Jeanne to grow up. I imagine she's bound to be a peach one of these days, and well worth waiting for, Harry. But, joking aside, Tom," he continued, "what's doing over there with Nellie and our little charge?"
"Oh, she's making capital progress," came the quick reply. "Told me all about it, you know."
"Sure thing, every word," put in Harry. "A whole hour it took, too, I warrant. There must have been a heap to tell."
"She's already managed to get together quite a number of things for the child," Tom went on to explain. "A pair of fairly decent shoes and some material that one of the nurses will make into a dress, for she used to be a seamstress over in the good old U. S. A. before the call came. Best of all, Nellie has found just the family to leave our ward with."
"That's news worth while," asserted Jack. "What else do you know that's interesting, old scout?"
"This family is named Desplanes," Tom continued. "They have a fine home in Paris, from which they have been kept ever since the war began, because of the Germans getting between. They are glad to take charge of your little girl, Jack, since they mean to start immediately for the capital, having only been able to get into our lines a few days back."
"Then that part of our job is settled, if you've got their Paris address!" Jack exclaimed. "The other connected with the finding of Helene is going to prove a harder task I reckon."
"Oh! I've picked up a bit of information in that direction," the newcomer told them, an announcement which of course caused Jack to look intensely interested.
He had often found himself repeating that sad message and picturing the suffering of the poor woman who, in dying, did not know what would be the fate of her twin children, thus rudely separated, the one to be carried away by a remorseless relative and the other cast adrift in the midst of the fighting zone.
And so when Tom hinted that fortune had allowed him to secure valuable information connected with the abduction of Helene Anstey Jack's interest leaped upward by bounds. The spirit of laughter passed, and he was now only alert for news that would perhaps stand them in good stead.
"Was it about that man, Von Berthold, Tom?" he demanded.
"No other," came the answer. "Nellie gave me the tip, and I made some inquiries of a prisoner she had picked out from among those who claimed to be Lorrainers and fighting for Germany against their wishes, because they were forced into it. She had dressed a wound for him, and had got to talking with him. I was able to treat him to some cigarettes, and also gave him a cake of chocolate on the sly; because that's really against orders, you know. But he promised to nibble it in secret, and not let any one see him."
"I'm really ashamed of you, Tom!" said Harry, shaking his forefinger in a threatening fashion, and pretending to scowl. "A fine example to set to other pilots in our unit, or any of the doughboys in fact. But then you'll claim you had a good object in doing it; and of course circumstances alter army rules, as well as ordinary cases. Go on, and talk some more."
"Well, from this prisoner I learned that General von Berthold's first name is really Anton, which you remember she used in telling of his carrying little Helene off."
"We'll call that point settled, then," affirmed Jack decisively. "This German officer whose brilliant work has often been mentioned in dispatches to the Paris newspapers, is Jeanne's uncle. What else did you pick up?"
"He's quartered right now in an old chateau on a height that overlooks this whole sector of country, though some miles beyond the Argonne forest," explained the one who was telling the story.
"For a short time only," grimly announced Harry, "because the doughboys have got the Boche on the run, and before long we'll see him skipping out for Sedan and the border. I suppose when this famous general does have to give up his fine chateau he'll send it sky-high with explosives, as they always do, so as to leave nothing that is French made to comfort their enemies."
Tom nodded his head in assent.
"Do you know this Lorrainer told me that had already been arranged," he hastened to say. "He himself had been one of a party of engineers to plant terrible mines secretly in certain places under the walls, so the whole building could be blown up in a flash. But that cunning old fox managed it so that no one but himself knows how to start things moving."
"Why should he do a thing like that?" asked the puzzled Harry.
"Oh, it seems that a good many of the Boche soldiers have no particular love for General von Berthold," Tom answered briskly, as though he had anticipated that very question and was prepared to meet it.
"I see. He's afraid that if they chanced to know the combination,"
chuckled Harry Leroy, "they might be tempted some fine night, when he was asleep in his featherbed, to give him a rise in the world, since no one would be any the wiser. Yes, he's a sharp old duck, believe me!"