Air Service Boys over the Atlantic - Part 3
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Part 3

His news from Virginia must have been pleasant, if one could judge from the smile that rested upon his wind and sun-tanned face as he read on.

Again in memory he could see those loved ones in the old familiar haunts, going about their daily tasks, or enjoying themselves as usual. And whenever they sat under the well-remembered tree in the cool of the early fall evening, with the soft Virginia air fanning their cheeks, the red and golden hues of frost-touched leaves above them, he knew their talk was mostly of him, the absent one, most fondly loved.

Tom looked up. He thought he had heard a groan, or something very similar, break from the lips of his chum. It startled Tom so that when he saw how troubled Jack looked a spasm of alarm gripped his heart.

"Why, what is the matter with you?" he cried, leaning forward and laying a hand on the other's arm. "Have you had bad news from home?"

Jack nodded his head, and as he turned his eyes his chum saw there was a look of acute anxiety in them.

"No one dead, or sick, I hope, Jack?" continued the other apprehensively.

"No, at least that is spared me, Tom; they are all well. But just the same, it's a bad muddle. And the worst of it is I'm thousands of miles off, held up by army regulations, when I ought to get home for a short visit right away."

"See here, is it anything connected with that Burson property--has that matter come to a head at last?" demanded Tom, as a light dawned upon him.

"Nothing less," a.s.sented the other gloomily. "The issue has been suddenly forced, and may be settled any day. If I'm not there, according to the eccentric will of my uncle, Joshua Adams Kinkaid, that property will fall into the hands of my cousin, Randolph Carringford, who, as we both know, is just at present over here acting in a confidential capacity to some Government official."

"Yes, I've seen him," said Tom, frowning. "And to tell the honest truth his face didn't impress me strongly. In fact, I didn't like your cousin.

What's the use? All Virginia knows that Randolph Carringford is a black sheep--that no decent man or woman will acknowledge him for a friend.

Wonder what Joshua Kinkaid meant, anyhow, by ringing him in. But are the lands worth as much as it was believed, Jack?"

"I learn in this letter from our lawyer that the richest kind of coal veins have been located on the Burson property in West Virginia; and that they promise to be valued at possibly a million dollars. Think of what that would mean to the Parmly family! For we are far from being rich.

Father lost his grip on business you know, Tom, when he volunteered, and went into the Spanish war, and when he died did not leave very much."

"Do you suppose your cousin knows anything about this new development?"

continued Tom sympathetically.

"He is too greedy not to have looked after every possible chance," came Jack's despondent reply. "And now that this thing's come up I can begin to understand why he kept smiling in that way all the time he chatted with me a week ago when we chanced to meet. I think he had had a tip even then that this thing was coming off, and was laying his plans.

Though how he could known, I can't imagine."

"Then you suspect he may already be on his way across, and will arrive before you can get there to put in your claim?" asked Tom.

"Even allowing that he had no news until this mail got in, Tom, he'd get off a whole lot easier that I'll ever be able to, and so could catch a boat, while I kept untwisting the army red tape. It's a bad job all around, I'm afraid, and bound to make me feel blue."

"There's only one thing for you to do, Jack." remarked the energetic chum promptly, and his confidence gave the other considerable satisfaction.

"What is that?"

"Apply for leave at once. And include me at the same time, because I'll go with you, of course, Jack. We'll try to get back in time to join in the grand march to the Rhine. Promise me to do this before we sleep to-night!"

"I will, Tom, and here's my hand on it!"

CHAPTER IV

THE REST BILLET

"Here's a pretty kettle of fish, Jack!" Tom Raymond remarked several hours later, as he came into the dingy dugout where his chum was sitting.

A number of other pilots and observers occupied the same quarters, which had once been the refuge of German officers. Wretched though these quarters were, they at least afforded security from the bursting sh.e.l.ls that were being sent across now and then by the enemy, from their positions on the hills to the northwest.

Jack had been paying small heed to the merriment of his mates, who, like most young men gathered together in a group, had been carrying on high.

Sitting there with his head resting on his hand he had allowed himself to become buried in deep thought. A strained worried look had taken possession of his usually sunny face.

"What's the matter now, Tom?" he asked, with a deep sigh, as though he had been rudely brought back to a realization of the fact that he was still in France, where the battle raged, and far removed from those peaceful Virginia scenes he had been picturing.

"We're ordered out with that raiding party to-night," Tom continued, lowering his voice to a whisper, since it was supposed to be a military secret, and not to be openly discussed.

"Oh! Well, what does it matter?" asked Jack, beginning to show animation.

"We've put in our applications for leave, but the chances are they'll not be acted upon immediately, although we asked for speed. And nothing would please me more than to see action while I'm waiting. I'm afraid I'd go clean daffy unless I could forget my troubles in some way."

"Glad to hear you say that, Jack, because I'm feeling particularly keen myself to be one of that bunch to-night"

"When do we start?" demanded the other tersely.

"Not until two in the morning," came the low reply. "All that's been figured out with regard to the moon you know."

Jack took a quick glance around. So far as he could see, no one was paying the least attention to him and his comrade. One of the air pilots was trying to sing a song, being in jovial mood after receiving a letter that he admitted was from his "girl in the States" and the others manifested a desire to join in the chorus, though none of them dared let their voices out, since it was against the rules.

"Did you learn anything about the job we've got on hand, Tom?"

"Yes, that's what I did; though I believe it was not generally told to all who are to be in the party," came the cautious reply. "Of course just before the flight they'll be given full particulars, when orders are issued to the pilots and observers. It's a bridge this time, Jack!"

"That one spanning the river about twenty miles back of the German lines, do you mean?"

"Yes, it's the most important bridge within fifty miles. Over it day and night the retreating Boche armies are pa.s.sing. There's hardly a minute that guns and regiments may not be seen pa.s.sing across at that point."

"Yes," observed Jack, "and a number of times some of our airmen have tried to bomb it in the daytime; but Fritz keeps such a vigilant watch we never could succeed in getting close enough to do any material damage.

And so the High Command has decided that bridge must be knocked to flinders!"

"We're going out to make the attempt, anyhow," resumed Tom, nodding.

"Four big bombing machines in the bunch, guarded by eight battleplanes; and we've the good fortune to be chosen as the crew of one. I consider we're lucky, Jack."

"That's right, Tom. Though I don't feel quite as keen for it as I would have been had I not received that letter from our lawyer, asking me to hurry back home if I could possibly make it. Still, I'll be in for a bad night, anyhow, and might just as well be working."

"Are you worrying about your cousin?" demanded Tom suspiciously.

"To tell you the truth I am, more or less," Jack confessed. "I know him as a man utterly without principle. When he knows that it is a race between us to see which one can get to America first, so as to win the prize my foolish uncle left in such a haphazard way, there's absolutely nothing, I honestly believe, that Randolph wouldn't attempt in order to keep me from getting there in advance of him."

"Well, try to forget all that just now," said Tom. "I've a nice little surprise for you, Jack. I suppose you know they've got a sort of 'Y' hut running back here a bit?"

"Heard some of the fellows talking about it, but, somehow, didn't seem to take much stock in the news. Fact is, I've temporarily lost my taste for those doughnuts and the girls who give their time to jollying up our fellows, as well as attending to their many wants in the line of letter writing and such things."

"Perhaps," insinuated Tom, with a mild grin, "a doughnut mightn't go so badly now if the girl who offered it happened to answer to the name of Bessie?"

At that Jack suddenly began to show more interest. A gleam came into his saddened eyes and a faint smile to his face.