"That's an altogether different thing, Tom!" he exclaimed. "Do you really mean that Bessie and Mrs. Gleason are so close as all that?"

"If you care to walk out with me you can be talking to them inside of fifteen minutes," came the ready answer. "And while about it, I might as well tell you that Nellie is there too. Seems that she's attached to a field hospital staff that's keeping us close company, and, meeting the Gleasons, came over for the evening. She's been overworked lately, and needs some rest. I promised to come back for a short while, and fetch you along."

"Did--er, Bessie ask you to look me up?" asked Jack confusedly.

"To be sure! Twice at least. And I had to promise solemnly I'd do it even if I had to take you by the collar and hustle you there. But our time is limited, and we'd better be on our way, Jack."

The other showed an astonishing return to his old form. Apparently the mere fact that he was about to see the Gleasons again caused him to forget, temporarily at least, all about his fresh troubles. They were soon hurrying along, now and then dropping flat as some sh.e.l.l shrieked overhead or burst with a crash not far away.

Their relations with Mrs. Gleason and Bessie were very remarkable, and of a character to bind them close together in friendship. In fact, as has been described at length in one of the earlier books of this series, Tom and Jack had been mainly instrumental in releasing the mother and young daughter from a chateau where they were being held prisoner by an unscrupulous and plotting relative, with designs on their fortune.

The so-called "hut" of the Y.M.C.A. workers was really only another dilapidated and abandoned German dugout, which had been hurriedly arranged as a sort of makeshift headquarters, where the doughboys who could get leave might gather and find such amus.e.m.e.nt as the conditions afforded.

There were Salvation Army la.s.sies present too, with their pies and doughnuts that made the boys feel closer to home than almost anything else, and even a sprinkling of Red Cross nurses from the field hospital who had been given a brief leave for recuperation.

Adjoining this particular rest billet was another of similar character run by the K. of C., which was also well patronized; indeed there seemed to be a friendly rivalry between the organizations to discover which could spread the most sunshine and cheer abroad.

Jack immediately was pounced upon by a pretty, young girl whose face was either very sunburned or covered with blushes. This was of course the Bessie mentioned by Tom. Others who watched professed a bit of envy because Jack received all her attention after he appeared.

Nellie Leroy, the Red Cross nurse, looked very sweet in her regulation hospital uniform, with the insignia of her calling on her sleeve. If her face bore a sad expression it was no more than must be expected of one seeing so much suffering at close quarters as came to the share of all the women and girls who devoted their very lives to such a calling. In Tom's eyes she was the prettiest girl in all France. It could also be seen that Nellie was very fond of the stalwart young air pilot, from the way in which her eyes rested on his figure whenever he chanced to be absent from her side during the next hour; which to tell the truth was not often.

Of course nothing was said about the night's dangerous work that lay ahead for the two chums. But Bessie noticed that Jack occasionally looked grave, and questioned him concerning it. In answer he took her into his confidence to a certain extent concerning his reason for wanting to be in Virginia.

The time for separating came all too soon. Tom was very particular about this, being a firm believer in duty before pleasure.

"Look us up often if you get the chance," said Mrs. Gleason, who had been actively at work all the evening carrying out her customary duties, and proving indeed a "good angel" to scores of the young soldiers, who looked upon her as they might on their own mothers.

"You can depend on it we will," said Tom, giving Nellie a warm look that caused her eyes to drop and a wave of color to come into her cheeks.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away, if I can get across," Jack told Bessie, as he was squeezing her little hand at separating. "But then you never know what's going to happen these days. All sorts of things are possible. If I do start across the big pond you'll hear of it, Bessie."

Jack looked back and waved his hand to the little group standing in the door of the dugout. He seemed much more cheerful than earlier in the evening, Tom thought; and as that had been one of his motives in getting the other across from the aviation camp he felt satisfied.

"And now for business," he remarked as they made their way along, with a frequent bursting sh.e.l.l giving them light to see any gap in the road into which they might otherwise have stumbled.

Fritz was unusually active on this particular night, for some reason or other, for he kept up that hammering hour after hour. It might be the German High Command suspected that the Americans were ready to make a more stupendous push than had as yet been undertaken, with the idea of capturing a whole division, or possibly two, before they could get away; and this bombardment was continued in hopes of discouraging them.

The two Air Service Boys did not bother themselves about this, being content to leave all such matters to those in command. They had their orders and expected to obey them to the letter, which was quite enough for them.

Once more in their dugout, Tom and his comrade crawled into their limited sleeping quarters simply to rest, neither of them meaning to try to forget themselves in slumber.

When the time came for action they were soon crawling out of the hole in the ground. As pilots came and went unnoticed, each intent on his individual work, their departure caused not the faintest ripple. In fact, there were two other airmen who also came out and joined them when making for the place of the temporary canvas hangars, they, too, having had secret orders concerning this same night raid.

Arriving on the open field, they found a busy scene awaiting them. Here were mechanics by the score getting planes ready for ascension. The hum of motors and the buzz of propellers being tuned up could be heard in many quarters.

Those sounds always thrilled the hearts of the two boys; it seemed to challenge them to renewed efforts to accomplish great things in their chosen profession. When, however, they reached their own hangar and found a knot of mechanics working furiously, Tom's suspicions instantly arose.

"What's wrong here?" he asked the man who was in charge of the gang.

"There's been some sort of ugly business going on, I'm afraid," came the reply; "for we're replacing several wire stays that look as if they'd been partly eaten by a corrosive acid. Smacks of rank treachery, Sergeant."

CHAPTER V

THE AIR RAIDERS

Upon hearing the words uttered by the mechanic who handled the men working at their battleplane, Tom and his chum exchanged meaning looks.

"Can you make it perfectly safe again before half an hour pa.s.ses?" asked the former anxiously.

"Surely," came the confident reply. "I know what's in the wind, and you'll be fit for any sort of flight when another fifteen minutes has gone by. We're on the last stay now, and I've carefully examined the motor and every other thing about the plane. Don't fear to risk your lives on my report. I'd go up myself willingly if I had the chance."

"All right, Sessions, we're willing to take your word for it," Tom a.s.sured him, and then drew his comrade aside.

Jack on his part was eager for a little talk between themselves. That staggering fact had appalled, as well as angered, him. Why should their particular plane have been selected for such treacherous work, among all the scores connected with the air service in that sector of the fighting front?

"What do you make of this thing, Tom?" he immediately demanded.

"It's an ugly bit of business, I should say," came the guarded reply.

"You mean calculated to make every one feel timid about taking any extraordinary risk--is that it?" continued Jack.

"Yes, if the fact were generally circulated. But according to my mind they'll keep it quiet until after the armada gets off. No use alarming the others, though orders have gone out I presume to have every plane carefully examined. Still, that would only be ordinary caution; we never go up without doing such a thing."

"Tom, do you think there could be any possible connection between this work of a German spy, as it appears on the surface, and my news from Mr.

Smedley, the lawyer?"

"It's possible--even probable, Jack. A whole lot depends on whether we learn of any other plane having been meddled with. One thing sure, it'll spur them to greater vigilance about watching things here. This isn't the first time there's been a suspicion of rank treachery. Planes have been known to be meddled with before now."

"I wouldn't put it past him!" muttered Jack sullenly.

"Meaning your cousin Randolph, I suppose," Tom added. "Nice opinion to have of a near relative, I must say. But then I'm inclined to agree with you. It may be only a queer coincidence, your getting such important news this afternoon, and some unknown party trying to bring about our downfall and death in this brazen way only a few hours afterwards."

"And using corrosive acid, too," spluttered the indignant Jack. "I've heard of ropes being partly cut, even wire stays or struts filed to weaken them; but this is the limit. Don't I wish they'd caught the skunk in the act!"

"He'd never have left this aviation camp alive," said Tom sternly. "Why, the boys would be so furious they'd be tempted to lynch him offhand."

"And I'd be glad to help pull the rope!" snapped Jack. "A more cowardly act couldn't be imagined than this. Air pilots take great enough chances, without being betrayed by spies or traitors."

"We'd better say nothing about it," Tom concluded. "I'm going to run over the entire machine on my own account."

"And I'll do the same, Tom; for a pilot can't be too sure of his mount, especially when there's such meanness afoot."

They accordingly busied themselves after their individual fashion. Every brace and stay was looked over carefully and tested as only pilots know how. Long experience, and many accidents have taught them where the weak spots lie, and they understand how to guard against the giving way at these points.