“That’s splendid news,” Jack at once remarked. “I’m glad for the sake of little Jacques that his brave father did not die there in front of Antwerp as you all believed. If I had time I’d like to hear his story, because I reckon it’d be well worth listening to. But we have business of our own to look after, and so must once more take leave of you.” “Do you think he will get well again?” asked Amos, who under different conditions, would only too willingly have volunteered to help take care of the wounded, since his education as a Boy Scout had taught him how to apply the principles of “first aid to the injured.”
“We have strong hopes,” replied the old burgomaster. “Joy is better than all the medicine a doctor can bring. Jacques has found his father[297] again; and besides, his young heart is filled with happiness because he was given a chance to strike a blow against the enemies of his country. Yes, he surely must get well now, and live to see a new day dawn for Belgium.”
They both went over to nod to the boy, and the look of contentment upon his face told them his severe wounds were at the time forgotten in the thanksgiving that filled his heart. Both of them would in time to come often think of Jacques, and hope the good angel that had brought back his father would continue to guard the boy’s further fortunes.
Once again Jack and Amos found themselves outside, and wandering amidst the ruins of the village where only recently the fighting had reached its height. Here was the high-tide mark of that furious German drive; just as Gettysburg marked the apex of the Lost Cause in the war between the States in ’63. Jack wondered whether history would repeat itself, for he believed that if Germany were defeated it would only be through the force of greater numbers[298] arrayed against her, with pretty much all the world in arms.
They wandered around seeking some means of learning where they could secure the information they required. Never would they forget the sights that greeted them on every side. The ground looked almost as though it had been ploughed, such were the number of shells that had fallen on that devoted village during the time it was under bombardment. To Amos it seemed incredible that any living thing could have remained there and lived through that holocaust of crashing shells; and yet those undaunted men in khaki must have found some sort of concealment, for every time the Teuton force charged, after a cessation in the firing, they were met by the British, and mowed down by the Maxims that were hurriedly brought to bear on the solid ranks coming forward.
Most of the wounded had been removed by now, and were being taken to the rear in the motor vans, lorries, and Red Cross ambulances. The dead for the most part lay where they had[299] fallen, though several gangs of men stumbled among the gruesome piles, and seemed to be engaged in placing them in shallow graves, after securing the identification medals which every soldier wore about his neck, so that his fate might be made known to his sorrowing people at home.
Again and again were the boys stopped, and asked what business they had there in the midst of such harrowing scenes. On every occasion Jack showed the order from the commanding general, which was couched in no uncertain words, and invariably produced the desired effect, for all opposition was immediately removed.
They had been instructed whom they must ask for in order to learn whether Frank Bradford was still hard at work serving the Allies as a daring aviator. No one was likely to possess this information save some of his comrades, or the chief of the aerial staff, in whose charge all these operations had been placed.
For two hours did the boys walk after leaving the ruined village. Sometimes they were misinformed, for changes were being made rapidly[300] in those stirring times, and Headquarters today might be miles away from where it had been twelve hours before.
“It’s a long run, trying to find that officer,” remarked Amos, who of course was racked constantly by his hopes and fears, and wished the crisis would hurry along, so that he might know what to expect.
“That’s so,” admitted the cheerful Jack, “but all the time we’re getting warmer and warmer on the trail. Right now I can see where that last monoplane rose from, and the chances are we’ll find the party we’re looking for at that spot.”
“It gives me the queerest sort of feeling, Jack, just to believe that any minute now I may be squeezing Frank’s hand, and looking into his eyes again. I was always mighty fond of my big brother, you know, and it nearly broke my heart, small chap that I really was at the time, wh............