Part 16 (2/2)

”Sorry to disturb the farmer's hayrick,” said he, then, jumping out in his turn, ”but this is important!”

And a moment later the three Scouts, following his example, were as busy as bees, covering the grey automobile with new hay, that hid it effectually from any spying eyes that might be looking down on them from above.

”Now we'll make ourselves look small,” said Jack.

He looked around the field.

”I shouldn't wonder if they picked this out for a landing spot, if they decide to land at all,” said he. ”We want to see them if they do anything like that, and hear them, too, if we can. We may want to find out something from them.”

Swiftly, then, they burrowed into the hay. They could look out and see anything that went on about them, but unless an enemy came very close, they themselves were entirely safe from detection.

”Now we'll know what they're up to, I guess,” said Jack, with a good deal of satisfaction. ”It's a good thing I sort of half disobeyed orders and came this way, isn't it?”

”You didn't really disobey orders, did you, Jack?” asked Tom.

”No, I didn't, really, Tom. I did what I was ordered to do, but I did something more, too, as there was no special time limit set for the job they gave us. But a scout is supposed to use his own judgment a good deal, anyhow. Otherwise he wouldn't be any use as a scout, so far as I can see.”

It was very quiet in the hay. But above them, and sounding all the more clearly and distinctly for the silence that was everywhere else, they could hear the great hum of the motor of the aeroplane. With no m.u.f.fler, the engine of the flying-machine kicked up a lot of noise, and, as it gradually grew louder, Jack was able to tell, even without looking up, that it was coming down.

”By George,” said he, ”I think they are going to land! They're getting more cautious, you see. They scout ahead now, and they're using their war aeroplane the way we have been using this car of ours.”

”What are our flying-machines doing, Jack? I haven't seen them on the job at all.”

”General Harkness is using them in the actual battles. They go up to spot concealed bodies of the enemy, so that our gunners can get the range and drive the enemy, theoretically, out of any cover they have found. That's one of the ways in which flying machines are expected to be most useful in the next war. You see, as it is now, with smokeless powder and practically invisible uniforms, ten thousand men can do a lot of damage before anyone on the other side can locate them at all. But with a flying-machine, they won't be able to hide themselves. A man a thousand feet above them can see them, and direct the fire of artillery by signals so that the troops that were in entire security until he discovered them can be cut to pieces by heavy sh.e.l.l fire.”

”That's what our men have been doing, eh?”

”Yes--and theirs, too, mostly. This is the first time I've seen one of their machines scouting. Look out now--keep quiet! They're landing, and they're not more than a hundred feet away!”

The sc.r.a.ping of the flying-machine, as it came to rest in the field, was plainly audible as the Scouts stopped talking and devoted themselves to listening intently. Also, by craning their necks a little, though they were in no danger of being seen themselves, they could make out what the two men in the aeroplane were doing.

”Pretty lucky, Bill!” said one of them. ”This is a good landing-place, and we can get an idea of the situation and cut the telegraph wire to send back word.”

”Right, Harry!” said the other. ”I guess the coast is clear. The brigade isn't more than five miles back, and with three train loads, they'll be able to make that Fessenden Junction look like a desert before night--theoretically.”

”It's all theory, Bill, but it's pretty good fun, at that. I tell you, we would be in a tight place if they'd guarded this approach at all.

That brigade of ours would be cut off in a minute. But if we can mess up Fessenden Junction for them, they'll be so busy trying to cover their line of retreat that they won't have any time to bother about our fellows.”

”What's the matter with that engine, anyhow?”

”Nothing much, I guess. But sometimes, if she starts missing, the way she did when we were up there, you can fix things and avoid a lot of trouble by a little timely tinkering. I was up once when my engine began missing that way, and I didn't pay any attention to it. Then, about twenty minutes later, she went dead on me while I was over the water, and I had to drop, whether I wanted to or not. The water was cold, too, I don't mind saying.”

”You hear that?” said Jack, in a tense whisper. ”Now, as soon as they go, we've got to destroy that railroad track, right across the road. We may have half an hour; we may have only a few minutes. And while two of us do that--you and Tom, Pete--the other will have to cut the telegraph wire and send word to Fessenden Junction. General Bean is in the best position to get over there. I don't think we can hold them up more than an hour or so, but that ought to be enough. At least, if there's nothing else to be done, the fellows at Fessenden Junction can tear up a lot of track.”

For five breathless minutes they watched the two aviators tinkering with their engine. Then the big bird rose in the air again, and winged its way eastward. In a moment Jack was out of the hay and calling to his companions to follow him.

”Get your tools from the car, now,” he said. ”Mark a rail torn up for every ten minutes you spend there. I'll get busy with the telegraph wire.”

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