An archduke had been killed on Servian soil, and war had raised its dreadful shadow over stricken Liège. The gray legions of the Kaiser were worrying the throat of France. From the far-off valley of the Meuse came a call of distress for Henri Trouville. Billy Barry was very busy that day with the work of constructing hollow wooden beams and struts, and had just completed an inspection of a brand-new monoplane which the factory had sold to a rich young fellow who had taken a fancy to the flying sport. Coming out of the factory, he met his chum and flying partner. Henri did not wear his usual smile. With downcast head and his hands clasped behind him he was a picture of gloom.
“Hello, Henri, what’s hurting you?” was Billy’s anxious question.
“Billy boy,” Henri sadly replied, “it’s good night[11] to you and the factory for me. I’m going home.”
“Say, Buddy,” cried Billy, holding up his arm as though to ward off a shock, “where did you get your fever? Must have been overwarm in your shop to-day.”
“It’s straight goods,” persisted Henri. “The world has fallen down on Trouville and I’ve got to go back and find what is under it.”
Billy with a sob in his voice: “Old pal, if it’s you—then it’s you and me for it. I don’t care whether it’s mahogany, ash, spruce, lance-wood, black walnut or hickory in the frame, we’ll ride it together.”
“Oh, Billy!” tearfully argued Henri; “it’s a flame into which you’d jump—and—and—it wouldn’t do at all. So, be a good fellow and say good-by right here and get it over.”
“You can’t shake me.” Billy was very positive in this. “We made ’em look up at Atlantic City. We can just as well cause an eye-strain at Ostend or any other old point over the water. The long way to Tipperary or the near watch on the Rhine—it’s all one to me. I’m going, going with you, Buddy. Here’s a hand on it!”
The boys passed together through the factory gate, looking neither to the right nor to the left, nor backward—on their way to great endeavor and to perils they knew not of.
Out to sea in a mighty Cunarder, the “flying[12] kids,” as everybody aboard called them, chiefly interested themselves in the ship’s collection of maps. As they did not intend to become soldiers they were too shrewd to go hunting ’round war zone cities asking questions as to how to get to this place or that. They had no desire to be taken for spies.
“Right here, Billy,” said Henri, indicating with pencil point, “is where we would be to-night if I could borrow the wings of a gull.”
Billy, leaning over the map, remarked that a crow’s wings would suit him better, adding:
“For we would certainly have to do some tall dodging in that part of the country just now.”
“Do you know,” questioned Henri earnestly, “that I haven’t told you yet of the big driving reason for this dangerous journey?”
“Well,” admitted Billy, “you didn’t exactly furnish a diagram, but that didn’t make much difference. The main point to me was that you tried to say good-by to your twin.”
“Billy,” continued Henri, drawing closer, and in voice only reaching the ear at his lips, “behind a panel in the Chateau Trouville are gold and jewels to the value of over a million francs. It is all that remains of a once far greater fortune. My mother, when all hope of turning back the invading armies had gone, fled to Paris in such haste that she took with her little more of worth than the rings on her hands. She may be in want even now—and she[13] never wanted before in her life. I am her free man—my brothers are in the trenches with the Allies somewhere, I don’t know where. It’s up to me to save her fortune and pour it into her lap.”
“It’s the finest thing I know,” said Billy. “Show me the panel!”
Planning their first movement abroad, the boys that night decided to make for Dover after landing. It was a most convenient point from which to proceed to the French coast, and there they expected to find two tried and true friends, airmen, too, Captain Leonidas Johnson and Josiah Freeman, formerly employed as experts in the factory at home, and both of whom owed much to Billy’s uncle in the way of personal as well as business favors.
What happened at Dover has already been told, and now to return to them, stranded in the water off the Belgian coast.