THE ROAD TO PARIS.

"How far are we from Paris, Hal?" asked Chester, when they were once more on the outside.

"Not more than eighty miles," was the reply. "You heard what the Kaiser is said to have told his troops, didn't you?"

"No; what was it?"

"He told them that they were but two hours' ride, by automobile, from their goal; by which he meant the French capital."

"Great Scott! I didn't realize they were so close."

"It is pretty close; but still, when you stop to think, not so close after all; for the road to Paris, for the Kaiser's troops, at least, is strewn with insurmountable obstacles, and death and danger lurk on every hand."

"True," said Chester. "Besides which, the Kaiser is considerably farther from his goal than he was some months ago."

"Yes," agreed Hal, "he has been forced a long way down the field, as we would say on the gridiron."

Besides the doc.u.ment which they were to carry to the French Prime Minister, General Joffre also had given the lads an order for one of the large army automobiles, that they might make the trip with all possible haste.

Hal accosted the proper officer, and soon the lads had the huge car at their disposal. The officer also offered to furnish them with a chauffeur, but Hal declined this offer, electing to drive the machine himself. Chester climbed into the tonneau and Hal took his place at the wheel. Both waved a good-by to the officer, and, under Hal's guiding hand, the large automobile started off slowly.

Gradually Hal increased the speed, till at length they were flying along the road at the rate of forty miles an hour. There were no speed restrictions in the war zone, and as the car dashed over the ground Hal kept a keen eye out for machines approaching from the other direction.

Chester leaned over the front seat and clutched Hal by the shoulder.

"At this rate," he shouted, "it won't take us long to get to Paris."

"About two hours," Hal shouted back, without taking his eyes from the road ahead.

Through the towns of Villers and Cotterets the automobile flashed, although Hal reducing his speed a trifle when the little cities came in sight. On the road beyond, however, he proceeded to let the car out again, and so they dashed into Nanteul.

Here, because of somewhat more congested traffic, Hal was forced to reduce his speed considerably, and they went slowly through the streets of the towns. Before setting out on their trip, Hal had spent half an hour over the maps of the road, that there might be no danger of their getting lost, and the lay of the country was firmly impressed upon his mind.

As they wended their way slowly through the streets of Nanteul, there came suddenly the sound of an explosion beneath them. Hal brought the car to an abrupt stop and leaped lightly to the ground. Chester did likewise.

"Tire blown out," said Hal briefly, after a quick glance at the rear left-hand wheel.

He walked to the rear of the car, where a spare tire should have been ready for just such an emergency. There was none there.

The lad stepped back with an exclamation of dismay.

"What's the matter?" asked Chester.

"Matter is that we have no spare tire," replied Hal. "Where shall we get one?"

"I don't know," returned Chester. "The chances are that every spare tire within forty miles is in use. However, we might go into this restaurant and make some inquiries."

Hal followed his friend into the restaurant, where Chester made known their wants.

The proprietor, a smiling and effusive little Frenchman, greeted them warmly.

"I myself have a tire that shall be yours," he told them. "It shall be taken from my own car and put upon yours. Jacques!"

In response to this call a dapper little waiter came forward, and to him the proprietor made known his desires. The waiter bowed and departed. The proprietor turned to the lads.

"While Jacques is making ready messieurs' car," he said with a bow, "it will give me pleasure to have messieurs lunch with me."

"How long will it take him to fix it?" asked Hal.

The little Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps fifteen minutes, perhaps twenty," he replied.

"In that event," said Hal, "we shall be glad to accept your invitation."

The Frenchman beamed upon them, and led the way to the rear of the little room, where he motioned them to seats at a somewhat secluded table.

"We shall not be disturbed here," he said.

A light luncheon was soon upon the table, and the lads fell to with a will, for they were quite hungry.

While the lads were in the midst of their meal, a group of French officers, all young lieutenants, came boisterously into the restaurant and took seats at a table close to where the lads sat. It was plain to both boys that they had been drinking more than was good for them, and they paid no attention to them beyond acknowledging their salutes.

One of the young officers pounded loudly on the table and demanded wine immediately. The proprietor arose from the table where the lads sat and hastened to attend to the wants of his customers himself, and soon several bottles of wine were upon the table.

The proprietor filled the gla.s.ses of the young officers, and then, at a nod from one of them, approached the table where the lads sat and poured out two more gla.s.ses of the sparkling fluid, which he placed before Hal and Chester.

The French officers at the other table rose, each with his gla.s.s in his hand; then one of them looked toward Hal and Chester, and the latter, realizing that the young Frenchman was about to propose a toast, also got to their feet; but instead of holding their wine gla.s.ses aloft, the gla.s.ses which they raised held nothing more than water.

The young Frenchman gave his toast.

"France!" he said gravely.

Each man raised his gla.s.s to his lips and drained it, but Hal and Chester drank the toast in clear, cold water. As the first Frenchman returned his gla.s.s to the table, he noticed that the wine before Hal and Chester remained untouched. His face turned a dull red, and he approached the lads.

"And why does not monsieur drink with us?" he demanded in a harsh voice, thrusting his face toward Chester. "Can it be that you are spies?"

"No," said Chester, taking a step backward; "we are not spies. We are British officers, and we drank your toast in water. We do not drink wine."

"British officers!" repeated the Frenchman. "Then how comes it that you wear the uniforms of French lieutenants?"

"That," replied Chester quietly, "is none of your business."

"None of my business!" echoed the Frenchman. "_Mon Dieu_! And what if I make it some of my business, eh?"

"If I were you," said Chester, "I wouldn't think of such a thing."

The Frenchman took a step backward at the menace in the lad's tone; but the other French officers now gathered about, and these reenforcements apparently lent him courage.