CHAPTER VIII.
OUT OF THE JAWS OF THE TRAP.
The summit of the low hill was not more than a quarter of a mile awayfrom the spot where Rod and his two chums had dismounted, to stareaghast at what was transpiring before their eyes.
The hill was almost devoid of trees near its top, and a minute beforethey had taken note of the fact that the bushes stood out against thesky-line with nothing to interfere with the vision of an observerperched aloft. But now it seemed as though the whole hilltop were alivewith moving figures. The declining sun glinted from hundreds of polishedguns and bayonets. And clearly could the boys see that these men weregarbed in the dun-colored uniforms distinguishing the Kaiser's troops.
"That settles our hash so far as getting a peek at the fighting goes,"muttered Josh discontentedly, for he always gave a cherished object upvery lothfully.
"Oh! I wouldn't say that!" declared Hanky Panky; "there are other waysof doing it, you can wager. That hill yonder isn't the only pebble onthe beach. What'll we do now, Rod?"
"Get out of this, and in a hurry, too," snapped the other instantly.
"We certainly can't keep on going forward, for a fact," admitted Josh,still filled with gloom and disappointment; "those chaps'd gobble us uplike fun, and it'd be good-bye to our bully wheels."
"Course they'd take us for Britishers, from our khaki uniforms,"admitted Hanky Panky; "and say, if they once got their hands on usthey'd snatch all our papers away in a hurry. I'm counting on keepingthat one our friend Albert gave us, to show the boys over in old Garlandwhen we get back home; because they'll never believe half we expect totell 'em if we don't have _some_ evidence to prove it."
"Huh! That isn't the worst by a long shot," continued Josh. "Don't yousee our having those papers on our precious persons would make it looklike we might be spies, working in the interest of Belgium and France?You just better believe we don't want to be nabbed by the Kaiser's men,not if we know what's good for us, and I reckon we do."
"The worst is yet to come!" exclaimed Rod just then; "look off there tothe left and tell me what you see moving across those fields toward theroad back of us."
Hardly had he said this than loud outcries arose from his twocompanions.
"Why, Rod, they're whole regiments of the Germans, and they're deployingso as to cut off our retreat, you see!" cried Hanky Panky, in a nearpanic.
"I don't expect they've even noticed us as yet," Rod went on to say;"but all the same if ever they do reach the road we'll be caught likerats in a trap."
"Looks like we might be between two fires," said Josh, frowningsavagely; "what can we do about it, Rod?"
It was second nature for the other fellows to depend on their leaderwhenever a knotty problem arose that needed solving. And seldom did Roddisappoint their expectations. He came up smiling on the presentoccasion.
"Get turned around in a hurry!" he called out; "we've one chance inthree to slip past before they get near the road. Are you both game totry for it?"
"Sure!" bellowed Josh; "try anything once, is my motto!"
"I'll go where you lead, Rod," was the simple but eloquent tribute whichHanky Panky paid the other; and Rod must have felt deeply gratified toknow he was able to inspire the hearts of his chums with so muchconfidence.
"Then let's get busy!" was all he told them.
The rattle of the machines' exhausts instantly announced the start. Rodled the way, with the others close behind him. He did not dread thesoldiers who were upon the hilltop, even though every movement made bythe fleeing motorcycle boys must be plainly seen by their observingeyes; for the distance was too great for them to expect to damage themounts of the escaping enemy by any gunfire.
It was the forces coming up on the double-quick to reach the road overwhich the three boys had so lately passed that aroused Rod's greatestfears. He knew that with the speed of which the machines were capablethey could manage to sweep past before the troops reached the road; butshould the Germans open fire on them the result might be disastrousindeed.
Hoping for the best, and ready to accept the desperate chances, theydashed along, every fellow bending low in his saddle from some instinctof self-preservation. It was a serious time for them, and with set teeththey hastened into the danger zone. Now they approached the place wherethere would be the most peril from a volley fired by the oncomingsoldiers, who of course ere now had seen them, and perhaps judged thatthey must be British scouts caught in a trap.
Rod had changed his mind. He suddenly remembered that there was a branchroad leading off from the one they had come along. Of course it was ablind move, because none of them could even give a guess where it wentto; but if they took it they might manage to slip out of the dilemmainto which the fortunes of war had thrown them.
"Be ready to follow me when I turn into a side road!" he called to theothers.
Undoubtedly they heard him, though they gave no answering shout. Itwould have availed little, however, because just at that moment therewas a savage burst of firing back in the direction of the hill, and manyspent bullets dropped all around them, some even kicking up littleclouds of dust as they fell on the road.
Rod turned in the saddle to see if there was any sign of his chumshaving been struck. So far all seemed well, for they were coming rightalong after him, and without any indication of having received even theslightest damage.
The forks of the road were now close at hand. Rod was never moredelighted in his life than to realize this, for once they turned intothis lesser thoroughfare he believed they would be protected by friendlytrees from the gaze of those on the hilltop.
A dreadful crash gave him another chilly feeling. He understood that itmust be the explosion of a shrapnel shell, not more than fifty feetbehind them. The gunner may have been on the hill with the gatheringtroops; but in calculating the distance he had failed to take intoconsideration the speed which the escaping boys were making.
Perhaps if given an opportunity to try a second shot he might be able tocorrect this error of judgment, and the next shell would burst directlyover their heads.
Rod almost held his breath. He felt as though so much depended on thenext twenty seconds of time, perhaps even the lives of his two bravecomrades, as well as his own.
Then he arrived at the forks, and, making a detour, left the main roadto plunge into the smaller thoroughfare. Again Rod looked back to assurehimself that both of the other boys were as successful in turning as hehad been.
Yes, there was Josh, safe and sound, and Hanky Panky, wabbling a bit tobe sure, but keeping a firm grip on his speeding machine had now managedto accomplish the deal.
Rod saw something suddenly explode on the road exactly where the forkscame. He knew full well it must be that second shrapnel shell, and onlyfor their sudden change of base, which the gunner had not calculated on,it must have burst so near Hanky Panky that he might have sufferedseriously.
The outlook was better, though it seemed as yet too early to count onsecurity. Rod kept a keen watch on what lay before him. He would nothave been greatly surprised to discover more of the invading hostsappear in view at any second; for they were undoubtedly in the midst ofa turning movement that had to do with the great battle opening up. Whenan army of between two and three hundred thousand men, like that of VonKluck, the German commander, attempts a gigantic movement, it coversmany miles of territory, Rod understood.
After proceeding in this manner for several miles his hopes grewstronger, and he actually felt as though there was a good chance forthem to elude the enemy. Josh was growling to himself, keenlydisappointed because they seemed to be running away from where momentousthings were taking place.
The night was not far distant, and Rod had to bear this fact in mind.Where were they to secure anything to eat in the midst of all thisturmoil and confusion? So far as a bed went they could do without, norwould it be the first time such a thing had happened in their eventfulcareer.
"Looks as if we might have outrun the Boches, Rod," called Josh, using
aterm he had heard some of the Frenchmen apply toward the Germans, thoughno one seemed able to explain where it had originated, or just what itmeant, save that it was intended as a term of derision, the same as"Yanks" and "Johnny Rebs" passed current during the Civil War betweenthe States.
"Yes, that's all very well," replied Rod, "but it doesn't cut any figurewhen we try to run across a house where we're going to get our suppers,and find a place to sleep."
"Oh! we're sure to come to some sort of French farmer's place sooner orlater!" declared the confident Josh; "and if they're anything like thelittle woman who took care of us this noon it'll be a picnic."
Ten minutes later, as they were negotiating a bad section of the road,Rod made an announcement that sent a wave of thanksgiving through thehearts of his chums.
"Farmhouse ahead half a mile or so," was the burden of his call; "Iglimpsed it against that bright place in the sky. As the sun's alreadygone down we'll have to take our chances, and apply for lodging there."
"I'm with you, Rod!" called out Josh immediately, while Hanky Pankyadded:
"I only hope none of the enemy slip up in the night and gather us in,that's all."
Big Five Motorcycle Boys on the Battle Line; Or, With the Allies in France Page 8