"How about their signing the treaty?" asked Frank. "Do you think they will do it?"

"They say they won't," replied the colonel. "They are calling it all kinds of names, 'the graveside of right', 'the Peace of violence', 'the shackles of slaves' and all that kind of rot. They swear they will never sign it. But then you have to take that talk for what it is worth. The Germans are the greatest bluffers and the quickest quitters in the world. There is what you Americans call the 'yellow streak' all through the nation. They said they wouldn't sign the armistice, but they signed it. They said they'd never let us enter their territory, but we're here. Now they're saying they'll never sign the Peace Treaty, but they'll probably do it when it comes to the pinch. Outside they're tigers, but inside they're sheep."

"Well," said Frank, "I almost wish they wouldn't. I'd rather have the treaty signed at Berlin than at Versailles."

"Eager for more fighting with the Huns?" asked the colonel, with an amused smile.

"Not that exactly," returned Frank. "But when I start a job I like to finish it and finish it right."

"Well," said the colonel, "you may have all the fighting you want right here in the Coblenz bridgehead. I heard rumors when I was in Berlin that a movement was on foot to stir up trouble in the zone of American occupation. Agitators were to be sent there by the Spartacans to try to overthrow the local government and take the reins of power. I heard that proposed myself at a street meeting of rioters that I witnessed from the windows of my hotel. A man with a red beard was declaiming at the top of his lungs and predicting that if the people of Coblenz would rise under the red flag they could sweep the hated Americans back from the Rhine."

"A man with a red beard, did you say?" asked Frank.

"Why, yes," answered the colonel, a little amused by his earnestness. "Not that there's anything extraordinary about that, I should suppose. There are probably thousands of men with red beards in Berlin. Why do you ask?"

"Because," said Frank, "the man whom we captured in the ruined castle last night and whom the lieutenant has been examining also has a red beard. He is an agitator of the worst type, and I know from what he said in his speech that he comes from Berlin. It may be only a coincidence, but if so it's a singular one."

"I shouldn't wonder if you were right," said the colonel. "What is the man's name?"

"Spatler, I think," replied Frank. "Heinrich Spatler. At any rate that's the name he gave to the lieutenant."

"Spatler," repeated the colonel, wrinkling his brows. "It seems to me that I saw that name on one of the banners carried by the rioters at the meeting. It may be that you are right. If he's the same man, he's a fanatic of the most dangerous kind and will stop at nothing. I hope that now your people have him under lock and key you'll keep him there. But I must go now, as I want to reach Mayence to-night if possible. I'm very glad to have had this few minutes' chat with you. By the way, when have you heard from Madame Sheldon? I hope that she is well."

"I had a letter from her a week ago," replied Frank. "She is in excellent health and full of gratitude to you for your efforts in recovering her property. As soon as I am released from the Army of Occupation she plans to meet me in Paris and go with me to Auvergne. There she will have a chance to meet you and express her thanks in person."

"I shall be charmed," replied the colonel. "I should like nothing better than to have her settle in France permanently as a resident of our beautiful Auvergne, but I suppose that is too much to hope for. You have America in your blood."

"Yes," laughed Frank. "France is beautiful and great, but America is to me above all."

"I should think less of you if it were not so," answered Colonel Pavet. "Au revoir, then. Remember me to Madame Sheldon when you write."

With a cordial handshake they parted. The colonel vaulted into the saddle of his horse which an orderly was holding at the door, and Frank returned to his comrades, who he found busily preparing to return to Coblenz, in accordance with an order that had just come from the lieutenant.

"Why we've just got here!" objected Frank, when he heard the news. "And now we're going back!"

"It's this way," explained Tom. "The lieutenant is anxious to get those prisoners off his hands and safe in jail at Coblenz. It seems that he pumped a lot of information out of one of the fellows who gave away his comrades, and he wants headquarters to go into the matter at once. We've been chosen among others to guard the prisoners because we took them and we may be wanted as witnesses. So back we go, and I'm glad of it."

"Same here," echoed Billy.

Bart and Frank looked at each other and laughed.

"'Alice, where art thou?'" quoted Bart.

"We know why you fellows want to get back to Coblenz in such a hurry," joked Frank. "Gee, it must be awful to have such a hankering. I will admit, however, that Alice and Helen are pretty girls. Bless you, my children, bless you."

"Quit your kidding and get busy," admonished Billy. "We start in half an hour."

"We'll be ready," replied Frank. "Watch our smoke."

At the appointed hour all was ready and the company set off with their prisoners under guard. There was a strong detachment as escort, and in addition to the men's rifles, a couple of machine guns were taken along, as the lieutenant was taking no chances. He had learned enough from the perusal of the papers and the testimony of the informer to believe that serious trouble was brewing, and he was anxious above all that the prisoners should be safely delivered at Coblenz.

It was a beautiful winter day. The air, though cold, was still, and the sun was shining brightly. The boys were in high spirits and joked and laughed as they trudged along. The prisoners alone were sullen and depressed. The man with the red beard was the only one that maintained an air of defiant.

Suddenly, the roar of an aeroplane made itself heard, and, looking up, the boys descried it sailing above them like a gigantic bird and moving in the same direction in which they were traveling. They saw at a glance that it was an American plane.

"No more need to duck for shelter when we see those things," laughed Billy.

"No bombs coming down to smash us into bits," exulted Bart.

"No," said Frank, "all German planes are on the ground. They can't look for Red Cross signs and hospitals any more."

"This fellow's swooping down!" exclaimed Tom, with heightened interest. "Maybe he's caught sight of us fellows and wants to get a closer look."



CHAPTER X

FROM THE SKY

"More likely it's engine trouble of some kind," suggested Frank, gazing at the swooping airplane. "My, but he's a nifty driver! See how he handles that machine!"

"Dick Lever himself couldn't do better," remarked Bart, as he watched the graceful curves described by the aviator in his descent.

"Good old Dick!" observed Billy. "I wonder where he is now."

The aviator was evidently aiming for a large open space a little to the right and in advance of the moving column. Soon he had reached it and landed as lightly as a feather.

"Wouldn't have broken a pane of glass if it had come down on it," observed Tom admiringly. "That fellow knows his business."

The aviator climbed out of his machine and came over toward the column, which had just received the order for the ten minutes rest, which, according to regulations, came at the end of every hour of marching.

He was encased in heavy clothing and his face was almost concealed by the fur-rimmed visor that he wore.

"Something about that fellow that looks familiar," remarked Billy.

"By the great horn spoon!" ejaculated Frank, "it's Dick Lever himself."

"That's what," smiled the newcomer, as the boys surrounded him and, with a yell, fell upon him.

There was no mistaking the warmth of the greeting, and Dick smiled with gratification as he extricated himself from their grasp and tried to shake hands with them all at once.

"What good wind blew you this way?" queried Frank.

"A mighty cold wind, as you fellows would admit if you were up there," laughed Dick.

"You look pretty well fixed for it," commented Billy, as he took in Dick's voluminous trappings. "A polar bear has nothing on you."

"I need every bit of it," answered Dick. "But where are you fellows bound for, and what are you doing with these birds?" he continued, glancing at the motley group of prisoners.

"We're taking them into Coblenz to let our people give them the once over and the third degree," explained Frank. "They've been trying to stir up trouble in the American zone. Cunning little bunch, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you've got your claws on them," Dick remarked, looking at the group with cold disfavor. "There's a whole lot more like them that ought to be rounded up. I tell you our people have been too easy with this breed of cattle and they're going to be sorry for it. We're so afraid of being harsh that we go to the other extreme. We stand up so straight that we fall over backward. The Germans don't understand anything but force, and unless we exert it they think we're afraid to."

"Think we're too easy?" asked Bart. "You bet we are!" replied Dick. "We ought to treat them as the French do at Mayence and the British at Cologne. They know the people they're dealing with, and while they're just, they're stern. Anyone who tries to put anything over on them finds that he's monkeying with a buzz saw. Unless we wake up from our easy good-nature, we'll find ourselves with a lot of trouble on our hands."

"You seem to be rather worked up about it," remarked Billy.

"Not a bit more than I ought to be," returned Dick earnestly. "I have chances of seeing things that you fellows don't. I'm flying all over the occupied zone, and I tell you that the Spartacides are trying to stir up trouble everywhere. In almost every other town you can see the red flag flying. There's stormy weather coming, and we've got to be prepared for gales."

"That just fits in with what Colonel Pavet of the French Army was telling me to-day," said Frank. "He's just back from Berlin, and he's sure there's trouble afoot."

"Well," said Dick, "I hope that we're both false prophets, but I'm afraid we're not. I'll have to get on now, fellows."

"What did you come down for?" asked Tom. "Engine trouble?"

"No, it wasn't that," replied Dick. "The old girl is working fine. I just saw an American bunch marching along here and dropped down to say 'howdy.' I'm off now. See you soon in Coblenz."

With a wave of his hand, he walked over, climbed into his machine, and started skyward.

The boys watched him soaring until his machine was only a dot in the steel blue of the winter sky, and then, as their brief rest period had ended, started on the march to Coblenz.

"One great boy, that Dick," remarked Frank, when the aviator was finally lost to sight.

"You bet he is," agreed Billy emphatically. "He's one of the greatest aces that ever climbed into a plane."

"I suppose he must be feeling rather lonely now that he isn't bringing down his daily Hun," suggested Tom.

"He's all wool and a yard wide," affirmed Bart. "I'll never forget that if it hadn't been for him I might never have got back to you fellows."

"Do you remember the time he swooped down with his machine guns popping and carried us off when we were being taken to a German prison camp?" asked Frank. "I tell you it took nerve for a fellow to charge a whole detachment."

"Oh, he's got nerve enough for a whole regiment," declared Billy. "He'd be a mighty handy fellow to have at your back in any kind of scrap, and don't you forget it."

In a short time they reached the town without further adventure and delivered their prisoners into the hands of the authorities. They were off duty then and had no further assignment for the rest of the afternoon and evening. The early winter dusk was settling down, but it was yet a full hour before it would be entirely dark.

"What are you going to do with yourself, Bart?" asked Frank. "I know of course what Tom and Billy are going to do. They're going to make tracks for the house where their deities reside."

"Good guess," admitted Billy. "You bet we are."

"I haven't anything special on hand," replied Bart in answer to Frank's question.

"Come along with me then," said his chum.

"Anywhere you say, what's the game?"

"I'm going straight for the alley where they nearly got our number the other night. That thing's on my mind all the time. It haunts me even in my sleep. I'm going to get to the bottom of that mystery or know the reason why."

"All right. I'm with you."

By the time they had reached the alley it was almost entirely dark. Choosing a moment when the street was empty, they slipped into the alley and made their way toward the further end.

They felt the walls on either side as they went along for indications of a door or opening of any kind. They did the same with the blank wall that closed the alley at the other end. Nothing rewarded their search. The wall at the farther end was far too high to scale. It seemed impossible for anything except with wings to vanish from the alley as completely as had their assailants on that memorable night when they had so nearly lost their lives.

"It beats me," said Bart at length. "We saw them go in and we followed them up and they weren't there. Sounds like black magic, doesn't it?"

"It surely does," agreed Frank, in great perplexity. "They didn't go through the back, they couldn't go through the sides, they couldn't go into the air, but they did go somewhere."

"Down into the ground," suggested Bart jokingly. "That seems the only place left."

Frank started.

"There's many a true word spoken in jest," he said. "Perhaps you've hit it, Bart. That's one place we haven't examined."

"Small chance to examine that just now," said Bart. "You can see it's all covered with a glare of ice. There isn't a bit of ground showing."

They walked over the ice-covered surface with scarcely a hope under present conditions of making any discoveries, even if there were any to make. They had to depend entirely upon the sense of touch, for it was by this time pitch dark and Frank did not care to flash his light for fear they might be observed by passers-by.

They had come perhaps to within twenty feet of the rear wall, when Frank gave a sudden exclamation.



CHAPTER XI

MARSHAL FOCH AND GENERAL PERSHING

"What is it, Frank?" asked Bart Raymond in a low voice.

"My foot sank in," explained Frank. "It's softer here for some reason than in the rest of the alley. Just wait a minute till I can feel around here and see what I can make of it."

He felt about cautiously with his feet and found that the ice had softened for a space of about four feet and that the space was almost perfectly square.

"There's some reason why this spot should be different from the rest," he said, after having verified his discovery. "It's all open to the weather, like every other part of the alley, and there's only one explanation. There's heat coming up from beneath. That means that there must be an open space beneath this spot. I wish I dared use my flashlight."

"Wait a minute," said Bart. "I'll slip out to the mouth of the alley and see if the coast is clear. If it is, I'll give a low whistle and then you flash your light and see what it shows you."

He left his companion, and a moment after Frank heard the signal agreed upon.

Instantly he flashed his light on the rectangular space that had caught his attention.

The ice had melted there to such an extent that only a thin glaze covered the surface. Through this transparent covering Frank Sheldon caught sight of what seemed to be the outline of a door covered with gravel that only partially concealed it. He thought he saw something too that faintly resembled an iron ring.

"A trap door!" he muttered under his breath, jubilant in the thought that he had perhaps fallen upon a clue to the mystery that had so long perplexed him.

He took out his knife and began to dig down toward the ring, when a low whistle from the opening to the alley warned him to be on the alert. Instantly the light was extinguished and the next moment Bart was at his side.

"Better let up, Frank," he whispered. "There's a big commotion down the street and a crowd is beginning to gather. I think it's a fire."

As he spoke, a fire engine clanged down the street and an increasingly red light made itself apparent in the sky.

"Too bad," grumbled Frank, as he put his flashlight back into his pocket "I think I was just on the verge of finding out something that would put us on the track of those fellows who seemed to vanish into thin air."

"Hard luck," murmured Bart, sympathetically, "but well have to give it up for the present."

Frank hesitated, but the increasing glare that made the alley visible and the sound of footsteps of people hurrying to the fire showed him that his friend was right, and he reluctantly desisted.

"To-morrow's a new day," said Bart consolingly, as the comrades stole out of the alley and mingled with the groups of passers-by.

"If Tom and Billy can tear themselves away from the girls, we'll bring them with us the first chance we get and try to clear up the whole mystery," observed Frank.

But this proved more difficult than they expected, and many days were to pass before their discovery could be followed up. There was a sudden tightening of the military regulations, which the boys attributed in part at least to the revelations that had followed the examination of their prisoners. A rigorous system of drill and training was put in force and the Army Boys' hours of liberty were greatly curtailed in consequence. They were kept more closely to their barracks, and their visits to the town except in the line of duty became few and far between.

The day following Frank's discovery that company of the old Thirty-seventh to which the boys belonged was sent on a long hike in full marching equipment, and when they returned after several hours they were, as Tom expressed it, "dog-tired." Nor were they pleased to find that in the interval their quarters had been changed and they had been assigned to another part of the barracks.

It was with sighs of relief that they eased their heavy packs from their shoulders and dropped them thumping to the floor.

"Gosh!" exclaimed Billy, "I don't mind carrying a pack that weighs sixty pounds or even eighty; but after a time this pack of mine gets to weigh about two tons, and that seems just a little bit too much."

"You told a whole bookful that time," said Tom ruefully. "It is surprising how those packs keep getting heavier all the time. Another half mile, and I think the straps would have been through my shoulders altogether."

"Well, there's no use worrying about what might have happened," laughed Frank, "seeing that we've arrived safe and sound. While we're in barracks we'll be able to get three square meals a day, and that appeals to me more, even, than getting rid of the old pack."

Frank had hardly finished speaking when an officer approached and called: "Attention!" Then followed roll call, and the boys, together with a number of their comrades, were assigned to a barracks next but one to that in which they had stopped. This, of course, necessitated shouldering the heavy packs once more, but by this time the boys had come to expect things like this, so took it all as a matter of course, and soon found themselves in the quarters that were to be theirs until the order came once more to march.

The barracks was furnished with rows of army cots, and the boys dropped their packs at the heads of those assigned to them. Then began the task of unpacking, and by the time that was completed it was almost time for mess.

"It's lucky we got our mess kits out before mess call blew," commented Tom. "It would be an awful thing to get caught without them around meal time."

"Not much danger of that," said Billy, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "We've been in the army quite some time now, Tom, and yet I can't call to mind a single time when you weren't Johnny on the spot when the bugle blew for eats."

"Say, don't you two fellows go to starting an argument along those lines," interrupted Bart. "When it comes to being chow hounds, I think we're all tarred with the same brush. None of us has ever got a call from the mess sergeant for not being on time."

"Well, perhaps you're right," admitted Tom laughingly. "And when you get right down to it, the whole of this man's army seems to be about the same way, so that leaves nothing for us to argue about."

Mess kits in hand, they all trooped down to the kitchen and took their places on the line that already was of sizable length. They wound slowly past the cooks, and in course of time the four friends were served and fell to on a savory plate of substantial food.

For a short time conversation ceased, the boys giving their whole- hearted attention to the entertainment that Uncle Sam had provided. The food disappeared with astonishing rapidity, and when the last of it was gone Billy exclaimed:

"Fellows, we can kick all we want to over army life, but I never had such an appetite in civilian life, and never felt half as good as I do right this minute."

"All right, then, since you like it," grinned Frank, "to-morrow I'll let you carry my pack as well as your own, and then you'll feel just twice as good as you do now."

"No, thanks," declined Billy. "I don't want to feel any better than I do now. If I felt any better, I'd go to the medical officer to find out what was wrong with me."

"If you ate much more, you'd have a quartermaster officer coming around to find out what was the matter with you," countered Tom.

"The trouble with you is, that you don't understand my motives," complained Billy. "Personally, I dislike food, and, if I had my way, would make a canary bird look like a heavy eater. But I feel that it's my duty to eat a lot so that I can keep up my strength and continue to be a terror to all Germans. Uncle Sam expects this of me, and I refuse to disappoint him."

"Oh, well, if that's your motive, it's all right," said Tom, with mock gravity. "But seeing you in action, it looked to me as though you really enjoyed your grub. I hope you'll excuse my mistake."

"Oh, that's all right, please don't mention it," said Billy, with a magnanimous wave of his hand. "I've known others to make the same mistake, but, believe me or not, they don't always accept my statements as you do, when I explain the true state of affairs to them."

"Some people are hard to convince, I suppose," replied Tom, "but I guess I'm one of the easy ones."

"It's easier for both of you to talk than to wash mess gear apparently," said Frank, "What do you say to canning some of that brilliant repartee so that we can get these things out of the way and have time for a little something else before taps blow?"

"Suits me," acquiesced Billy. "But it surely does make me feel bad to have people think I really like to eat, and I can't seem to rest easy until I set them right. But now, let's get these things cleaned up in a little less than no time."

It did not take long for the boys to get their mess kits cleaned and out of the way, and then they found themselves with a couple of hours to spend exactly as they pleased.

"Might as well wander over toward the canteen and see what's doing," suggested Frank, and as none of the others had anything better to propose, they acted accordingly.

At the canteen all was life, bustle and activity, one line always going in to purchase tobacco, candy, and such other little comforts as were on sale, and another coming out in possession of these valued commodities. It was hard to realize that all these men were tried and seasoned fighters, ready to "go and get the Hun at the drop of a hat."

"What's doing in the way of a camp entertainment to-night?" asked Frank of one burly doughboy, who was contentedly munching a huge piece of cake.

"I understand there's going to be a movie show," replied the latter. "They generally have pretty good reels too, so I'd advise you not to miss it."

"Much obliged," said Frank. "Guess we might as well take it in, fellows, what do you say?" turning to his companions.

"Sure thing," they assented, and accordingly made their way to a brightly lighted tent, toward which many others were going. They arrived there only a short time before the show was to start, and having secured good seats, settled down to enjoy it.

The scene of the picture was in the West, when it was still "wild and woolly," and depicted many encounters between settlers and Indians. These fights were the subject of much criticism by the expert audience, who did not hesitate to shout words of advice at critical situations.

"Gosh!" growled one doughboy, in deep disgust, "just one machine gun would have cleaned up that bunch of redskins in less time than it takes a Hun to say 'kamerad'"

"Yes, or a few good hand grenades would have done their business for them, too," said another. "It's too bad the old timers didn't have a few of those modern playthings along. It would have made things a whole lot easier for them."

"What would have been the matter with a few tankfuls of poison gas?" suggested Bart. "Seems to me that would have made them curl up and quit pretty quick."

There were other suggestions of the same nature, and when the picture finally came to a close there was a general impression that such warfare was mild indeed compared to that of the present day.

"I don't know how you fellows feel," remarked Frank, as they filed out of the tent and started for their barracks, "but I feel tired enough to crawl into my little two by four and get a real night's sleep."

"I'm with you," declared Tom. "I felt all right before, but that picture seems to have made me tired, because now it's all I can do to stay awake."

"I guess it must have been the picture all right," said Billy, "because certainly it isn't because of overwork."

"Well, I didn't claim it was from overwork, did I?" replied Tom. "I enlisted in the Army to fight Germans, not to work. All I've had to do is march twenty or thirty miles a day with a sixty pound pack on my back, but outside of that I must admit that I didn't do much work, except dig trenches, do sentry duty, and kill a few Huns as a sideline. It certainly is one grand picnic for me, I don't mind admitting."

"Yes, and to make you like it all the more," said Billy, "I hear that there's going to be big doings to-morrow—a review, plenty of marching and maneuvering to give the soldiers a good time, and it is expected a pleasant day will be had by all."

"You might know something like that would happen just when we think we're laid up for a nice rest," grumbled Tom. "But maybe it will rain, and then the whole thing will have to be called off."

But Tom's hope was a vain one, for the next day broke clear and delightful, with never a suggestion of rain in the heavens. Reveille blew at its accustomed unearthly time, according to the soldiers' standpoint, and the boys could soon tell that something was "in the wind" by the air of suppressed excitement on every hand.

"Guess you were right, Billy," said Tom, who had not as yet fully recovered from his grouch of the previous evening. "I thought when the armistice was signed that we would be all through with this sort of thing, but I suppose I should have known better."

"We're not through with it yet, and what's more, we won't be through with it for some time to come," said Frank. "Remember, the peace treaty isn't signed yet, and in Berlin they say they're not going to sign it. And it's just a case of where we can't let up until they do."

"As far as I'm concerned, I wish they wouldn't sign it," said Bart. "We stopped fighting too soon, anyway. We should have kept on until we'd carried the war on to German territory. It would do me good to see their cities get a dose of the same medicine they handed out to French and Belgian towns."

"There's a lot of people feel the same way," agreed Frank. "But before we get through with them I think they'll realize that they've got the loser's end of the proposition."

Just as Frank ceased speaking the bugle blew general assembly, and the boys hastened to fall into ranks. The officers paced up and down the lines, straightening them out and inspecting clothing and equipment as they went along. Then their captain appeared on the scene and proceeded to make them a short address.

"Men," he said, "the regiment is going to be inspected by General Pershing to-day, and I hardly need to tell every one of you to be right up on his toes. I know you can pass a perfect inspection, and it's up to every man to be a credit to the regiment."

After the captain had left the officer next in charge supplemented his word.

"You are going to be dismissed now, and will have a chance to get thoroughly cleaned up and ready for inspection," he said. "Any man that isn't in first class shape by the time assembly blows again is going to find himself out of luck. Dismissed!"

Everybody saluted, and the Army Boys joined in the rush back to the barracks. The next hour was a busy one, in which razors, combs and brushes were applied vigorously, and the man with a complete shoe cleaning outfit found himself suddenly popular. The scene in the crowded washrooms resembled pandemonium let loose, but in an incredibly short time first one man and then another emerged spic and span, and by the time the bugle blew again there were only a few stragglers who were caught unprepared. These last threw themselves desperately into their uniforms, and two minutes after the bugle sounded every man was standing in his appointed place.

Then followed the preliminary inspection, after which the command "at ease" was given. Everybody shifted to a more comfortable position, and prepared for the long delay that they knew would probably ensue.

"Wonder how long it will be before the general arrives," speculated Frank. "It's only about half past nine now, and I don't believe he'll get here anything like that early."

"He'll probably have lunch first," predicted Tom, gloomily. "They've just got us out here now with the idea that standing will make us grow."

"Aw, snap out of it," laughed Billy. "I knew a man once that died from an in growing grouch, and likely enough the same thing will happen to you."

"It's just like an in growing toenail, only worse," chuckled Bart.

"Can't help it," said Tom. "This sort of thing is enough to give any one a grouch. Chances are that General Pershing has forgotten all about us, and we'll have to stand here until we starve to death."

"Well, you haven't got to worry about that just yet," said Bart, "because you haven't much more than gotten through your breakfast. Why—"

But he was interrupted by the short blast on the bugle that signified "attention," and everybody straightened like a flash. A big gray automobile pulled up in front of headquarters, and from it descended the general, accompanied by officers of his staff. Punctilious salutes were exchanged, and then the general, accompanied by some of his officers and also those of the regiment, passed slowly between the long files of straight-backed soldiers. His searching glance seemed to take in everything at once, but so thoroughly had every one prepared that even his exacting eye could find nothing to take exception to. It was a time of suspense for all the soldiers, as they knew that the least detail of dress or equipment lacking or misplaced meant a visit to the guardhouse. But the inspection passed off perfectly, as far as the men were concerned, and soon the inspecting party turned its attention to the barracks. The men were still held in ranks at attention, however, as nobody knew what the next step in the day's events would be.

Not long after the inspecting party had disappeared into the barracks they reappeared and made their way to regimental headquarters. Here they formed in a group, and, as far as the boys could judge, appeared to be awaiting the arrival of some person or persons, as they kept glancing down the road over which the general's car had come only a short time before.

"They must be expecting some other big bugs," speculated Billy in a whisper, keeping at the same time a wary eye on the nearest officer. "Looks as though this were going to be a red letter day around these diggings."

Sure enough, Billy had hardly enunciated the words when another big military car appeared, dashing up to headquarters at high speed and stopping with a jerk. Great was the curiosity as to whom the last comer might be, and greater still the surprise when the soldiers recognized the well known features of the commander-in- chief of all the Allied armies, Marshal Foch himself!

To the boys the reason for the great marshal's presence here was obscure, but, as usual, his movements were dictated by very sufficient reasons. He was preparing the future movements of the Allied armies in the event of Germany's refusal to sign the peace treaty. Where a civilian might have said: "Oh, of course they'll sign the treaty; what else can they do?" the man who had led the Allies to victory had no intention of leaving the smallest thing to chance. At present he was making an inspection of all the Allied armies at the Rhine crossings, together with their equipment, transportation facilities, artillery, and all the other branches on which a successful advance would so much depend.

After a short conversation in the open, Marshal Foch and General Pershing entered the regimental headquarters, accompanied by the higher officers of both staffs. Meanwhile the boys had again been given the command "at rest," which was a welcome change from the long period of standing rigidly at attention.

After a short interval, the two generalissimos reappeared. This time both entered the car that had brought Marshal Foch to the scene, and the big automobile rolled off in a cloud of dust.

"Guess inspection is over now, and pretty near time, too," whispered Tom.

His surmise turned out to be correct, for shortly afterward the regiment was dismissed and returned to the barracks, where shortly afterward the midday mess was served.

But the visit of the two commanders marked the beginning of an era of extreme bustle and activity. Numbers of tanks, both small and large, began to make their appearance in the camp, likewise heavily loaded ammunition wagons and lorries, big field pieces, and all the other equipment that modern warfare has made a necessity.

Of course all this was of the greatest interest to the four Army Boys, as to their comrades, and many were the speculations as to its meaning.

"Looks as though the war had started again," said Bart. "There hasn't been as much as this stirring since the armistice was signed."

"Either that, or we're getting all ready to start again, which seems more likely to me. But we'll probably find out soon enough, one way or another," remarked Billy.

It was in fact the preparation of a new drive that they saw going on about them. And this time, should it start, the drive would not stop its easterly course until it reached Berlin. The Allied leaders were determined to make this advance so irresistible and conclusive that there could be no discussion afterward as to whether the German Army really was beaten.

More men and supplies arrived constantly. Two days after the visit of Marshal Foch and General Pershing a number of aeroplanes arrived, and a flying field was established adjoining the main camp. Here a number of observation balloons were continually being tried out, and it was seldom that one was not hovering over the camp.

"That's one thing," fellows, that we have yet to try," said Frank, addressing his friends. "We've been in the tanks, up in aeroplanes, and about every other place you can think of except a 'sausage' balloon. It would suit me fine to go up in one and get a bird's-eye view of 'the Rhine, the Rhine, the German Rhine.'



CHAPTER XII

TORN FROM MOORINGS

"No accounting for tastes," grinned Billy Waldon, "but as for me I'd rather have a sausage in me than to be in a sausage."

Little more was said about going up in the observation balloons at that time, but the same evening after colors, as the four friends all happened to be off duty at the same time, they decided to stroll over to the aviation field, as that seemed to offer more things of interest than any other place. As they drew near, they saw that one of the balloons was just being inflated, and they quickened their steps. A few hundred paces brought them alongside the partly inflated balloon, which already was tugging strongly at its moorings as the buoyant gas hissed into it. The observer who was to go up in it was standing near, and seeing the interest the boys took in the process, he bestowed a friendly grin on them.

"Thinking of going into the business?" he inquired gaily.

"Don't know but what I might some day," replied Frank, in the same vein. "What are the inducements?"

"Well, if you happen to have any troubles on your mind, this is pretty apt to end them all for you, once and for all. I can't give you any testimonials from others who have used this cure, because after they took it they weren't giving testimonials any more, but I give you my word that it's all that I claim for it"

"Yes, but you've been up quite a few times probably, and you're still in the land of the living so it can't be quite as bad as you say it is," replied Frank, laughingly.

"Oh, it's safe enough now, as far as that goes," said the other. "But when actual fighting is going on, then it's a different matter altogether."

"Were you ever attacked while you were up?" asked Billy.

"I surely was," replied the observer. "I was up over No Man's Land one day, right on the edge of the clouds, when suddenly a Boche airplane came darting out of the clouds and opened on me with his machine gun before I knew what had happened. Just by luck, I didn't get hit, but the bullets tore big holes in the balloon and it started to drop fast. I had time to jump clear with my parachute though, and landed without a scratch not a hundred feet from the wreckage of my balloon."

"You were pretty lucky, at that," observed Billy.

"You bet I was!" assented the other. "Another time I had to jump for it, too; only this time the balloon caught fire from some incendiary bullets fired at it. After I jumped the parachute was mighty slow in acting, and I dropped two thirds of the way before it finally took hold. I gave myself up for lost that time, and, as it was, I landed so hard that my left leg was broken, but even at that I wasn't doing much kicking."

"No, you wouldn't, with a leg broken," observed Billy slyly.

"That's one on me," conceded the observer, with a laugh. "At the time, though, I couldn't see much humor in it. Take it altogether, I guess a balloon will give a man his fair share of thrills."

"Gosh! I'd like to try it once," said Frank, longingly.

"If you'd really like to try it so much, I don't know but what I can arrange it for you," said the observer slowly. "The trouble is, though, that I can take only two of you, because I have only two extra parachutes."

"We're not apt to need them, are we?" asked Frank.

"Oh, of course, the chances are that we won't, seeing that we won't be attacked now by a hostile machine, as we would likely have been a few months ago," responded the other. "Just the same, it's always possible for accidents to happen, and so I'll have to limit it to two passengers, although I'd like to take you all up."

"You and Bart go, Frank," said Billy. "Tom and I will come around some other time, and then maybe we'll get a chance."

"Well, if you and Tom don't mind, I guess we will," said Frank, and with the words he and Bart stepped into the car of the balloon, followed by the observer.

"I'm afraid you'll find it rather tame," said the latter. "It's not nearly as exciting as you might think when looking at it from the ground."

By this time the balloon was fully inflated, and the observer gave the sign to the man in charge of the windlass to let the big gas bag rise. The windlass man released the brake on the big drum, and the balloon shot upward with a speed that took the breath away from the two passengers. Up they shot until they had attained an altitude of about five hundred feet, after which the windlass man checked their further progress.

The boys exclaimed aloud over the wonderful sight that met their eyes. Mile upon mile the smiling Rhine countryside stretched away on every side. The picturesque Rhine, bordered by its ruined castles, was visible for many miles.

"Isn't that a wonderful sight?" demanded Bart. "Why, from up here it seems as though we should almost be able to see Berlin."

"From the way things look now," observed their newly found friend grimly, "we'll all see Berlin pretty soon, and we won't have to go up in balloons to see it, either."

"Right you are!" acquiesced Bart. "And I'd be one happy little soldier if I knew that we were going to start to-morrow."

While the foregoing dialogue had been going on Frank had been taking in the view, but now he turned to the observer.

"Seems to me it looks pretty black over in the west," he remarked. "I think we're going to have a storm."

The observer glanced quickly in the direction indicated, and then jumped for his telephone.

"Pull her down, Dan!" he called. "Pull her down quick! There's a big storm coming our way, and coming mighty fast, too."

The boys could feel the tug of the cable as it tightened in response to the starting of the windlass, but before the balloon had descended a hundred feet the storm was upon them. A mighty blast roared about the frail balloon, jerking it here and there in such a violent manner that the boys were nearly thrown out. The captive balloon tore madly at its moorings, and seemed like some wild thing struggling to be free.

"We're in for it now," yelled Dunton, the observer. "She won't stand much more of this, and if she breaks away, it's the parachutes for us."

Even as he spoke a specially vicious blast tore madly at the balloon, and the occupants heard a ripping, tearing sound. A second later the big "sausage" leaped upward, and the boys did not need to be told that it had broken free from its moorings.

"Get hold of the parachutes!" yelled Dunton, "but don't jump yet. This wind is too strong, but if it dies down a little we'll have to risk it."

They were traveling at a terrific rate before the wind, and mounting steadily higher. Instead of abating, the wind seemed momentarily to increase in violence, and the balloon made increasingly heavier weather of it. It was only a matter of time when the wind would rip it to pieces, and this catastrophe was not long in coming. There was a sound of ripping cloth, and the next moment the balloon began to drop rapidly. This left its passengers no alternative but to take to their parachutes, as to remain longer with the balloon spelled sure death, and they had a bare chance for life if they jumped.

Grasping the hand-holds of the big white parachutes, the three youths climbed to the edge of the basket, poised for a second, and then leaped off into space.

For seconds the Army Boys experienced a terrible series of sensations as they dropped with the speed of light toward the uprushing earth. The wind roared and whistled in their ears, and they both thought the parachutes would never open in time to prevent their being dashed to atoms on the ground. But when they were less than two hundred feet from the ground, each felt a sudden checking of the plummet-like drop and knew that the parachutes had at last taken hold. Slower and more slowly they went, as the parachutes gathered the air in their silken folds. But still the boys were not safe, for the strong wind tore at the parachutes and threatened at any moment to tear them loose. But at last Frank landed, with considerable of a shock, to be sure, but free of serious injury. His first thought was of his companions, and especially of Bart.

By great good fortune, Frank had landed clear of a river, although within a hundred feet of the bank. Looking in that direction, he was horrified to see Bart in the water, struggling amid the envelope and ropes of the parachute. He was so badly entangled that it was almost impossible for him to swim, and already his efforts were growing weaker.

Leaping to his feet, Frank rushed toward the stream, calling words of encouragement to his friend as he went.

"Hold up, Bart!" he yelled, "I'll be with you in a minute."

Reaching the river bank, he paused only long enough to kick off his shoes, and then plunged in to the rescue of his friend. With powerful strokes he plowed through the water, and was soon alongside Bart, who by this time was in sore straits. Frank drew his knife, and with a few swift strokes cut away the wreckage of the parachute in which Bart was entangled.

"Thanks, old man," gasped the latter. "You came just in the nick of time, this time. Two minutes more, and I'd have been done for."

"Thank Heaven I did get here in time," said Frank fervently. "Just rest your hand on my shoulder, Bart, and I'll tow you to shore. It's lucky this river isn't as wide as the old Hudson, isn't it?"

Fortunately Frank was a powerful swimmer, and it did not take him long to reach the bank. He and Bart crawled up to dry land, and threw themselves panting on the ground to recover from their late misadventures. But a moment later, Frank was on his feet once more.

"I forgot all about Dunton, the observer!" he exclaimed. "He may have landed in the river, too, or he may be injured and in need of help. Do you feel fit enough to help me look for him, Bart?"

"Oh, I'm as good as ever now," said Bart, with an attempt at a grin. "Guess I must have been born to be hung, because I don't seem to be able to get myself killed by any other method."

The boys set out on their quest, and were soon delighted to see the observer himself limping toward them. The latter caught sight of them at the same time, and waved his hand to them.

"Gosh, but I'm glad to see you!" he exclaimed, when they came within speaking distance. "I was afraid you'd both gone under, and if you had I'd never have forgiven myself for taking you up with me."

"We were just starting out to look for you," said Frank. "Where did you land?"

"In a good soft place," said the other. "The branches of a big tree. My ankle caught in a branch and got wrenched a little, but otherwise I'm O.K."

"I landed in the river, and Frank had to fish me out," said Bart. "But now that we're all safe, I'm beginning to wonder just where we are. The storm seems to be over, and I guess it's up to us to get back to camp as soon as possible, or they'll have us down as A.W.O.L."

"I'm not sure just where we are," responded Dunton, "but I hope we haven't landed among the Huns. They'd like nothing better than a chance to put us out of the way."

"Well, all we've got to do to get back is follow the river down," said Frank. "Let's go."

Following Frank's suggestion, they had not gone more than half a mile when, to their great satisfaction, they caught sight of an American sentry walking his post.

"Good!" exclaimed Dunton. "That means that we're still in the occupied zone. We'll just ask this bird where we are."

Inquiring of the sentry, they learned that they had landed at Montabaur, which was on the very edge of the zone occupied by the American Army. The sentry gave them directions as to the best way to reach camp. They arrived there without further mishap, and separated, the two friends hastening to their barracks, and Dunton to his headquarters to make a report on the loss of the balloon.

Great was the joy of Tom and Billy at seeing their comrades safe and sound, as they had been under intense anxiety concerning them.

"But we might have known better than to have worried about you," said Billy finally, after he and Tom had heard the story of their adventure. "I had a hunch all along that you'd both come piking along sometime to-night or to-morrow, and after this, I refuse to worry in any degree about you. It serves you right, anyway, for going up without us."

"Well, in the future, you can go up without me all you want to," laughed Frank. "How about it, Bart?"

"You said it," acquiesced Bart heartily. "I'm off that parachute stuff for all time. I know when I've had enough, and this is one of the times."

"The way it looks around here," said Billy soberly, "it isn't going to be necessary to go up in the air to find excitement. All the evening we've been hearing reports of big riots going on in Coblenz, and everybody says we're likely to be called out to- morrow to do a little suppressing act."



CHAPTER XIII

GERMAN RIOTING

For once rumor had not overstated things. The most turbulent rioting the city had ever seen started the next day, and, in spite of all the efforts of the authorities, seemed to increase in intensity as the day wore on. The German authorities seemed to be utterly helpless to cope with the situation, and finally the American troops had to be called upon to quell the disturbances.

"What did I tell you?" exclaimed Billy, when the order came through to get under arms. "We're in for a nice little shindy now, as sure as guns. But as far as I'm concerned, I'm glad of a chance to teach these Huns how to behave. The trouble with us is, we're entirely too easy with them."

"Yes, we're not half as strict as we ought to be," assented Frank. "But the more monkey business they try, the tighter the lid is going to be clamped down, as they'll find to their cost."

But in point of fact, the rioting was not so much against the American authorities as it was against the German authorities who were operating under the protection and direction of the Americans.

But it was all one to the boys, as all they cared about was the prospect of some pleasurable excitement. And more excitement was brewing for them than they anticipated, for this was by far the most serious riot that had occurred since they had entered German territory, and was one not easily to be suppressed.

The regiment was not long in getting ready, and was soon swinging out of camp, headed toward the rebellious city. As the soldiers approached it, they could hear the sound of rifle firing, mingled with the sharper sound of machine gun fire.

"Something doing, all right," said Bart, as they swung rapidly along. "Sounds as though some one were getting trouble, and plenty of it, and I'm willing to bet the Heinies are getting the worst end of it."

"You can bet they are," agreed Billy. "And just wait till this bunch of bad men gets after them. It begins to seem like old times again."

"Right you are," said Tom. "And whatever's going to happen, it will be pretty soon, because we're getting close."

By this time they were indeed on the outskirts of the town, and before long were swinging down one of the main streets, the noise of rifle firing and shouting growing steadily louder as they progressed. At first few people were to be seen, although here and there an anxious face peered out of an upper window.

But as they penetrated further into the heart of the city, they encountered hurrying and shouting knots of men, who, however, hastily changed their direction when they caught sight of the businesslike appearance of the Americans.

Suddenly Billy caught sight of a face at an upper window that seemed familiar.

"There's the fellow that tried to strike the lame man the day you took his cane away from him, Frank!" he exclaimed.

Frank looked in the direction that Billy indicated just as the man was hastily withdrawing behind a curtain.

"Couldn't see much of him, but it did look something like him," he remarked. "But I shouldn't be surprised to find him mixed up in this trouble. He's the kind that would be in the thick of it."

Just then there was a flash from the window and a bullet whizzed by the Army Boys and flattened against the wall on the other side of the street.

"I'll bet that was aimed at you, Frank!" exclaimed Bart. "That fellow's a bad shot but he has a good memory."

The shot was quickly followed by others from windows and roofs, but fortunately, the snipers were in too much of a hurry to take effective aim, and their bullets did little damage at first.

But as the Americans marched on, they encountered constantly increasing opposition. Several of the soldiers had been wounded by the time they had reached the thick of the disturbance. When they turned a corner into one of the main streets of the town they found that a barricade had been erected across it, and this barricade was being held by a small force of Americans, who, hemmed in on every side by Germans, were finding it a hard task to hold out against tremendously heavy odds. But the advent of reinforcements turned the tide of battle for the time being, and the mob quickly took to its heels and left the Americans a brief breathing space.

The new arrivals were welcomed lustily, and soon found themselves within the barricades, where they commenced a brisk fire against their unseen enemies on roof and at window, who still kept up a scattering fire. Meanwhile, the leaders held a brief consultation to decide their immediate course of action.

It was decided to dispatch small bodies of men, as many as could be spared, to clean up the adjacent streets, and so prevent the rioters from massing again.

The four Army Boys, together with twelve of their company, two squads in all, found themselves detailed to a narrow street, and they soon found that their task was going to prove no sinecure. The street was very narrow, bordered by tall, peaked houses, and every house seemed to shelter two or three riflemen. It was only occasionally that the Americans could see their opponents, but when a German did venture to expose himself for a moment, his slip almost invariably proved fatal, as the American rifles spoke with deadly effect. But the Americans were at a terrible disadvantage, and the sergeant in charge saw this and acted accordingly.

"Break up into groups," he ordered, "part on one side of the street and part on the other, and go from house to house. Clean them out thoroughly, and show no mercy to anybody you find with a rifle in his hand. We'll assemble again at the end of this street."

This plan was put into immediate operation. The four Army Boys were together. With their rifle butts they battered in the doors of houses, then fought their way up to the roofs against the most treacherous opposition. Again and again one or the other escaped death by what seemed a miracle, and they saw to it that the Huns paid the price for these attacks. The second house that they entered was a large one, and seemed a veritable maze of rooms, for each one of which they had to fight to gain possession. As they reached the foot of the stairway leading up to the top story, they saw three burly Germans at the top, rifles in hand, evidently prepared to stop the hated Americans at any cost.

"Surrender!" shouted Frank.

For answer, one of the Germans, who appeared to be the leader, leveled his rifle at Frank's head, but before he could pull the trigger, Bart's big automatic pistol spoke once, and the German swayed, stumbled, and came crashing down the staircase.

"Now's the time, fellows!" yelled Frank, as he saw the remaining two Germans hesitate after the fall of their leader. "Let's get 'em and get 'em quick! Treat them rough!" As he spoke all the boys leaped up the staircase, firing as they mounted.

But before they could reach the top reinforcements arrived for the Huns in the shape of three others of their countrymen. Nothing daunted, the Army Boys rushed on. As they fired one German fell, but the others presented a determined front, although their aim was bad, and so far none of the boys had been seriously wounded, although both Tom and Frank had been grazed by flying bullets. In a few more steps they were among the Germans, and then ensued a fierce hand to hand fight on the narrow landing. The Germans proved themselves no mean antagonists, and for a few minutes there was a wild medley of blows and shouts. The boys fought desperately, and slowly forced their antagonists back against a light balustrade that guarded the stair well.

Suddenly there was a sharp snapping sound, the frail railing gave way, and with wild shouts and oaths the Germans hurtled over the edge for a sheer drop of three stories.

So suddenly did this happen, that the boys had the greatest difficulty in preventing themselves from following, but they recovered in time, and peered over. Three of their late enemies lay still as they had fallen, but the fourth showed some signs of life.

"Whew!" ejaculated Frank, wiping the sweat from his eyes, "we had it hot and heavy here for a time, didn't we?"

"I should say we did!" exclaimed Bart. "But that railing was a good friend to us. I hate Germans, but I've got to admit that those birds knew the rudiments of close-in fighting."

"Well, they're done for now," said Billy, "and it looks as though we had cleaned this house up pretty thoroughly. If we have this much trouble in every house we tackle, I can see where we've got our work cut out for us."

"I think maybe it would be better to go up to the top of this house," said Frank, and then enter the adjoining one from the roof. Anybody in it will be expecting an attack from the street, and going in that way we may be able to take them by surprise."

"That's a good idea" exclaimed Bart. "Lead on, old timer."

Frank's plan proved to be a good one. They met with no further opposition while mounting to the roof, and once there, they located the scuttle leading into the next house. Fortunately this was not fastened, those in the house probably having left it unlocked with the idea in mind of facilitating their own escape.

As Frank Sheldon deduced, they had not considered the possibility of an attack from above.

Opening the trap door, the four friends descended the short length of ladder that led perpendicularly downward. So far they had heard no sound to apprise them of the presence of a lurking enemy, and they began to think that possibly the house was deserted. Then stopping and listening intently, they heard the muffled sound of voices, apparently coming from the floor below.

Here was something of a problem presented to the boys, for they had no orders, nor indeed, desire, to molest those peaceably inclined, and were only after revolutionists and rioters who were doing the sniping work. But their doubts were soon set at rest. From the front of the house came the sharp sound of rifle firing, and the boys hastened in that direction. On the second floor they burst into the large front room, taking completely by surprise a group of some four or five men who were sulking in the shelter of the windows. As the boys burst into the room they whirled about, only to find themselves looking into the muzzles of four vicious looking army pistols.

"Drop those guns and put up your hands," commanded Frank. All obeyed but one man, who raised his rifle to his shoulder. Before he could pull the trigger a spurt of fire flashed from Frank's pistol, and the man sagged slowly to the floor.

"Downstairs with the rest of you!" ordered Frank, at the same time motioning toward the stairway. "We can't do much with these men except disarm them," he said in an aside to his companions, as the Germans sullenly prepared to obey. "We've got to clean out this house and a lot of others, and we haven't got enough men to guard prisoners. You break up their rifles, Tom, and then rejoin us in the street."

They herded the Germans downstairs, and at the street entrance propelled them forth with a few hearty kicks. This pleasurable duty had hardly been performed when they were rejoined by Tom, who had smashed the German rifles over the window sills, putting them very effectively out of commission.

Meanwhile, the other parties had been doing good work, and the sniping had to a great extent died down. The boys entered the next house, but met with no opposition, and when they reached the top story an open scuttle giving on to the roof told its own story of flight on the part of the occupants. They went through several houses in this fashion, but when they neared the end of the block resistance began to stiffen. Across the end of the street was a house that commanded it absolutely, and this seemed to have been chosen by the rioters as a last stand. From every window and from the roof snipers were busy, and were inflicting serious damage on the Americans. Already three had been killed, and as many more wounded. The sergeant marshaled the slender force remaining to him.

"Boys," he said, "we've got to clean out that hornet's nest, and then I think we'll have things pretty much in our own hands. We'll rush it now, and be sure that every man hangs close to the others, because if we become separated we're done for. Now, all together, and let them have it plenty!"

With these the little force of intrepid Americans rushed for the door of this last remaining stronghold. The door was of course locked, but when half a dozen vigorous young Americans charged it like so many battering rams, it gave way, and the soldiers surged forward into a large hallway. A wide staircase led upward from one side of this hall, and from an upper landing a spiteful rain of bullets zipped about the Americans. One fell, but the others, led by the big sergeant, rushed up the staircase, emptying their pistols as they went. The resistance met here was the most solid they had encountered that day, and they soon found that they had their work cut out for them.

When they reached the landing and engaged in hand to hand work with the Germans, other doors giving on the landing opened, and more rioters appeared to give aid to their companions. For a time the fight seemed to be in favor of the Germans, as their number told, and then in favor of the Americans, who had the advantage of discipline and team work on their side. Two more of their number had fallen, however, and the remaining Americans fought with the fury of desperation added to their usual dauntless courage. They took merciless toll of German lives, and at last the rioters, astonished and dismayed at their own losses, began to give way. Suddenly they were seized by panic, and to a man turned and fled through a long hall that ran the length of the house.

"Keep after them, boys," panted Sergeant Dan. "Don't give them a chance to recover themselves. We've got 'em on the run now, and we want to keep 'em that way."

The Americans followed the rioters down the passageway, reloading their weapons as they ran. At the end of the hall a sharp turn gave access to another stairway, and up this the Germans rushed in headlong flight, the Americans close on their heels. Another and last flight of stairs took them up to the roof, and this once reached, they broke and ran in every direction, some disappearing through the roof-scuttles of adjoining buildings, and others hiding behind chimneys and other roof structures.

The Americans paused for breath and consultation, and Sergeant Dan walked to the edge of the roof nearest the street and peered over.

"Guess our job's done for the present," he said, when he returned to his command. "Everything seems quiet in the street below, and there's not a soul in sight. Now let's take stock of damages, and then we'll hike back to the rendezvous."

As the soldiers were taking stock of each other, a sudden fear gripped at Frank's heart, and he exclaimed:

"Tom! Where's Tom?"

Billy and Bart gazed at him and at each other in dismay.

"He was with us when we attacked this house," said Billy. "I remember he was right alongside of me when we bumped that door, and we landed on the floor together when it gave way. But that's the last I remember of seeing him."

Neither of the others had any later recollection of their friend's presence.

"He may be downstairs wounded," said Frank. "Come on, fellows, we've got to find him," and forgetful of military discipline in their anxiety over their friend, the three comrades dashed through the door leading into the building.

"We'll all go down," said the sergeant. "Some of our fellows have taken the last count, but others are only wounded, and we want to get them to a hospital just as soon as we can."

Frank, Bart, and Billy made a frantic search of the building, but found no trace of their missing friend.

"He may have been badly wounded but have been able to make his way to the street where he would be picked up and taken to a hospital," speculated Frank. "Or it's possible that he has been captured," he added. "As soon as we have reported back to headquarters with our detachment, we'll try to get permission to make a search of the hospitals and see if we can't find him there."

There was little else they could do, so with heavy hearts they rejoined their companions who had rigged rude stretchers for two of their wounded comrades and were making ready to march back to headquarters.

The sergeant knew of the attachment existing between the four friends, and sympathized with the grief of the three remaining over the loss of their comrade.

"The chances are," he said, "that Bradford has been captured by the rioters, and the military police will find out where he is and get hold of him. Remember that an American soldier takes a lot of killing before he's actually dead."

But the boys marched in gloomy silence, and their hearts were sad for their friend.

The rioting had been effectually quelled, and the streets were once more quiet. The little party soon reached their headquarters, where the sergeant made his report. The boys could hardly control their impatience until the time came when they were off duty. They immediately secured permission to make inquiries at the hospitals which were taking care of the casualties sustained during the rioting. There were three of these, and each of the boys went to a different one, agreeing to meet in a designated place as soon as they had completed their inquiries. An hour later they assembled as they had agreed, only to learn that so far their search had been fruitless.

"The only thing left for us to do," said Frank, "is to go back to the barracks, where maybe by this time they will have posted a list of the casualties. If Tom's name is not there well be pretty sure that he's been captured, and it will be up to us to try to find him."

Returning to the barracks as Frank had proposed, they found that a list was posted on the company bulletin board, and carefully scanned it for Tom's name, while fear tugged at their hearts.

Great was their relief when they failed to find it, for if he were only a prisoner the chances were that the authorities would get him back, or that the boys themselves might ferret out the place where he was being held and rescue him.

"Well," said Bart, as the boys turned away from the bulletin board, "there's not much we can do for poor Tom to-night, but if he's a prisoner we'll get word from him sooner or later."

"If he's a prisoner, I'd hate to be the man who has him in charge," remarked Billy grimly. "Something pretty terrible is apt to happen to that bird most any time."

"Yes, chances are he'll come marching into camp with a few prisoners on his own account." said Frank. "That is, if he doesn't catch this new disease they're talking about,"

"What disease?" asked Billy. "I hadn't heard anything about it."

"Nobody seems to know very much about it," replied Frank. "It has appeared at various places in Germany, especially in the occupied zones. It seems to have attacked Germans as well as Americans, and nobody knows what to make of it. Of course, remember I'm only telling you what another fellow told me recently, and I give it to you for what it's worth. It may be just rumor, but he seemed to be so certain of his facts that I felt inclined to believe him."

As it happened, what Frank had heard as a rumor was indeed a fact— and a fact, moreover, that was proving most puzzling and unpleasant for the American medical authorities. The disease that Frank had spoken of had indeed made its appearance in various parts of the country, and while the doctors had many theories concerning it, they were all only theories as yet, and nothing really definite was known regarding it. The symptoms were much like those of virulent typhus. Men sickened and died within forty- eight hours, and once stricken, the unfortunate victim did not recover in one case out of a hundred.

Some of the doctors were inclined to think it one of the plagues that usually follow in the track of war, due to privation and depression. This theory, however, did not explain why American troops, well fed and victorious, should be affected. Most believed it to be caused by some deadly germ, hitherto unknown, and every effort was being made by the medical corps to isolate the germ and find a remedy for the disease. But the Army Boys were to know more of the source of this strange scourge and make a most amazing discovery regarding it.



CHAPTER XIV

ON THE TRAIL

On the day following that of Tom Bradford's disappearance, Bart and Billy were assigned to special duty as part of an officers' escort on a mission to a neighboring town.

After they had left Frank found himself very lonely, especially as he had an afternoon off duty. Mingled with his thoughts of the missing Tom was the thought that had constantly haunted his mind of late—the unsolved mystery of the alley up which hostile Germans could flit and apparently disappear into thin air. He knew there must be some explanation of the mystery, but what was it? He racked his brains to find a plausible solution. But the more he thought about it, the more uncertain he became, until at last he came to a resolution.

"Here I am," he thought, "racking my wits over this matter, and about all I do is just guess work, after all. The best thing I can do is get permission to go to the town, find that alley and see if I can't run across some clue that was lacking the last time I was there."

Having reached this resolve, he lost no time in acting on it, and readily securing the desired permission, he set off for the town. This he soon reached, and walked at a smart pace through the quaint, well-kept streets.

Going along one broad avenue he came suddenly face to face with the man from whom he had taken away the cane, whom he had since learned was a famous German physician, a well known character throughout the war. The latter, however, was so preoccupied that he took no notice of Frank. His thoughts, whatever they were, appeared to be pleasant, for as he walked he smiled to himself and softly rubbed his hands together, as one well pleased with the course of events.

"The old codger seems mightily pleased over something," mused Frank, "and I'm willing to bet a reasonable amount it isn't over any schemes for the betterment of mankind. I may do him an injustice, but I don't think his genial Hun nature is inclined exactly in that direction."

He gave little further thought to the chance meeting, his mind being busied with speculations as to what he might find in the mysterious alley. The weather was very mild, and he knew the sheet of ice and snow that had covered the ground on his previous visit would not now exist to baffle him. But he did not want to enter the alley until darkness had fallen to offer him concealment, so abated his usual brisk pace to a mere saunter, and took careful note of the attitude of the people he passed. The streets were quiet enough, but the faces of the inhabitants were sullen and hostile, and Frank could read enmity in the glances cast at him.

"They love the Americans about as much as they love sunstroke," he meditated. "But it doesn't matter much what they like, because they'll take just what's handed to them. But it's the lower elements and the revolutionists who are making most of the trouble, and I'm a lot mistaken if their headquarters aren't in the neighborhood of that blind alley. Well, anyway, I'll know more about it when I get through my privately conducted explorations this evening."

He stopped in a small restaurant and ordered a light meal. By the time he had finished this it was nearly dark, and he set out for his objective without further delay.

He shortly reached the entrance to the alley, and, after casting a searching glance about him to make sure that he was unobserved, he slipped cautiously into the place.

"It ought to be a lot easier for me to locate that trap door now than it was when I was here with Bart," he thought. "There's no ice now, and if there is a door, I'll be bound to find it."

He proceeded cautiously up the alley, taking every precaution to avoid noise, and soon reached the blank wall that had so baffled him and his friends on a previous occasion. He drew a flashlight from his pocket, and when he thought he was close to the place where he and Bart had previously located the door he cautiously played the tiny spot of light over the ground. At first he thought he must be mistaken, as this part of the alley seemed to be like all the rest. But, looking closer, his heart leaped as he made out the outline of a heavy iron ring, lying flat in a recess in the pavement, and almost covered with gravel and dust. So cunningly was it concealed that it would inevitably have escaped observation unless one were actually looking for it.

"There's a trap door here, all right," he exulted. "Now, I wonder if I can get in, or if it will be fastened from the inside. Here goes to find out."

With the thought, he worked the iron ring loose from the dirt, set himself for the effort, and gave a tentative tug. The door did not give a particle, and he tried again, this time putting every ounce of his strength into the effort. The door gave a little, but with all his strength Frank could not lift it more than an inch or two. He tried again and again, but with no better result, and at last, to his great disappointment he was forced to give over the attempt for the time being.

"Guess this is more than a one-man job," he thought to himself. "What I'll have to do is to bring Bart and Billy here to-morrow night, and I think the three of us can lift the door easily. I've made one big step, anyway, for now I know there is really a trap door here, and before we weren't sure of it."

He pressed the iron ring down into its socket, scattered some earth and gravel over it, and at last satisfied that he had left everything as he had found it and in such a condition as not to arouse suspicion if the secret entrance was used by one of the plotters before he could return, he turned his footsteps toward camp.



CHAPTER XV

A BARE CHANCE

Frank was now convinced that he and his comrades had really chanced on a big secret, and he was eager to get them and get to the heart of the matter. He was greatly disappointed that he had been unable to follow up the adventure that very evening, but with a soldier's philosophy promised himself better luck the next time, and swung off toward camp with a stride that soon brought him to his destination.

But the Army Boy's plan for an immediate further investigation of the mysterious alley was destined to have a further setback, for the next day great aeroplane activity started all over the American front, and it was announced that nobody would be given leave to visit Coblenz until further notice. It seemed that reports had been received at general headquarters that the rioters, driven out of Coblenz, were gathering in smaller towns throughout the occupied area, and making demonstrations and inflammatory speeches against the American "invaders."

Many aviators were detailed to fly over all the neighboring territory and get information of the movements and numbers of the rioters, so that troops could be sent to the threatened points and suppress the uprisings before they assumed serious proportions.

Among the aviators detailed to this work was Dick Lever, and on his return from one of these excursions he sought out his Army Boy friends. For a considerable time he had been detailed to other parts of the occupied territory, but now his headquarters were temporarily near the barracks in which the boys were situated.

So it happened that one evening as Frank, Bart, and Billy were strolling toward the canteen, they were both surprised and delighted to espy the long, athletic figure of their friend. Dick was no less glad to see them, and everybody for some distance around was apprised of the fact that old comrades had met once more.

"But where's Tom?" inquired Dick, after the first burst of enthusiasm was over. "I'm so used to seeing you fellows as a quartette that your sweet voices don't sound exactly correct as a trio."

The faces of all the boys lengthened at this allusion to their missing friend, and in a few words they explained to Dick the circumstances of his sudden disappearance.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Dick excitedly, when they had finished, "I wouldn't be a bit surprised if I could put you on his trail."

"What do you mean?" chorused the boys.

"Now, don't get excited," said Dick. "What I'm going to tell you may not be of the least importance after all. It's just this. While I was reconnoitering over the various camps of the revolutionists, in one of them I was sure I saw a man in an American Army uniform. I was too far up to recognize him even if I had known him, and it might be any American prisoner other than Tom, or it might be a German dressed in an American uniform for spying purposes. Anyway, if I hadn't been under special rush orders to return as soon as possible, I would have gone down and maybe attempted a rescue, but I had to get back immediately with my information, so couldn't take any chances."

"But can you give us any idea of the direction of the camp where you saw this man?" inquired Frank. "If we had the least idea where to look for him, you can bet we'd get him away from those renegade Germans, and likely hurt anybody that got in the way, too."

"I'd hate to be the obstacle, myself," grinned Dick. "But, to get down to business, I can give you a rough idea of the direction and distance, and in addition, I guess I don't have to tell you that if there's anything I can do to help, you can count on me to the limit."

The three boys and Dick shook hands all around as they accepted this offer, and on the spot organized as a committee of ways and means to rescue their missing comrade. Dick could only tell them approximately where he had seen the man in American uniform, and the Spartacides changed their camps so often in order to escape detection and capture that even this information was of rather doubtful value.

"The best thing I can suggest is this," said Dick, at last. "I've been detailed to try out some new aeroplanes to-morrow, and as long as I take them up and fly them, it doesn't much matter what direction I go in, provided I don't go too far. Now, what's to prevent me from flying a few miles in the direction I last saw this particular bunch of revolutionists, and taking a chance on finding out something more?"

"We'll appreciate anything you can do in that direction," said Frank. "You've given us a clue now, at any rate, and you can bet we won't be slow in following it up. It's going to be some problem to get hold of him, but we've solved as hard ones before now, and I guess we won't let this stump us."

"You told it!" said Bart emphatically. "If the Germans couldn't get one of us while the war was on, it's a cinch they won't be able to now when it's all over. If old Tom's alive, we'll rescue him some way."

Dick Lever described the location of the Spartacides' camp with as much exactness as he could, and even drew a rough map of the surrounding country, marking the place where he had seen the American prisoner with a cross.

The boys thanked him heartily, and then walked back to his section of the camp, as it was getting close to the time for taps, and Dick had to be back at his quarters by then. On the way they talked over old times, and Dick promised to visit them again at the first opportunity, and made them promise once more to call on him for help if they thought he could be of service in rescuing Tom. Then they all shook hands, and Bart, Frank, and Billy hurried back to their own quarters, full of excitement over the news that Dick had brought them and hopes that they would soon have Tom with them again.

But this was not to prove quite as quickly nor easily done as they had anticipated, for conditions were so disturbed that small detachments were not permitted to go into the surrounding country lest they should be attacked and overwhelmed by superior forces that might bear them down by sheer force of numbers.

They had to abandon therefore the plan to hunt Tom unaided, and Frank went direct to his lieutenant and told him just what they had learned from Dick regarding the presence of an American prisoner in the Spartacides' hands and their suspicion that it might possibly be their missing comrade.

To his surprise, he learned that the lieutenant had already received a report from other sources that tallied closely with Dick's. It was intolerable that any American should be left a prisoner in the hands of desperate men who might at any moment take his life, and plans were maturing to descend on the place where he was believed to be held. An adequate force would be provided and would set out as soon as possible.

With an inward prayer that the attempt would be made soon, Frank left the lieutenant's presence and hurried away to tell the good news to Billy and Bart.



CHAPTER XVI

RAISING THE TRAP DOOR

"I hear that a detachment is getting ready to go over to look into that matter of the prisoner that Dick told us about," said Frank Sheldon, a little later when he and his comrades were coming out from mess.

"I hope we're slated to go along with it," said Billy eagerly.

"Here comes the corp," remarked Bart. "Let's ask him. He'll probably be in charge of it."

As Corporal Wilson approached, the boys intercepted him.

"I can guess what you're going to ask," he said with a smile; "and I'll answer it right now. Yes, you fellows are going with the detachment. Plans are making now, but there's so much doing right here just now that we won't be able to start until to-morrow."

"To-morrow?" repeated Frank in disappointment, and his feeling was mirrored on the faces of his companions.