<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">BUCK TAKES HIS LIFE IN HIS HANDS</span></h2>
<p>Black night had already fallen, blotting out
sight of all lower landmarks, and the Airship
Boys had only their maps and instruments by
which to guide their path. But, as had been
before proved, those were ample for the purpose.</p>
<p>The young aeronauts were unable to tell just
when they passed over the long zig-zagging
double line of trenches, which marked where
the hostile armies crouched, menacing each
other, because all camp fires were blanketed
there. Experience in the early days of the war
had taught both Germans and Allies that a
shining camp fire is an excellent mark for bombs
from any prowling aviator overhead.</p>
<p>Several villages sparsely lighted, and several
cities with all lights extinguished, were passed
over before the <em>Flyer</em> reached a point where the
boys knew that Muhlbruck must lie very nearly
below them. They planed down gently, found
no place adequate for a safe landing, and finally
were forced to circle uncertainly there in mid-air,<span class="pagenum">[101]</span>
straining their eyes down into the gloom
below. They did not dare to investigate the lie
of the land with their searchlights, as that
would instantly have betrayed their presence
to everyone within miles of the spot.</p>
<p>At last Alan observed a comparatively open
and flat stretch of ground, and they decided to
take a chance on it. Fortunately it proved to
afford a better landing area than had been
apparent from above, and the <em>Ocean Flyer</em> was
once more brought to rest on firm ground.</p>
<p>The boys instantly discovered that they were
in a large farmyard, with a broad, dusty highway
on the one side and a small unlighted
cottage near by. They were afraid at first that
the inhabitants, if there were any, had observed
their approach and had slipped away to give
warning.</p>
<p>Further examination of the premises showed
this dread to be groundless, however. As they
stealthily tiptoed around the cottage, the boys
could plainly see that war had long since passed
that way and driven off its occupants. The walls
were charred with fire, half of the straw-thatched
roof had fallen in and the door swung crazily
askew on one hinge.</p>
<p>Investigation on the inside made clear that<span class="pagenum">[102]</span>
whoever the owners were, they had left in great
haste. Furniture was broken and overturned;
linen, bed-clothes and wearing apparel lay scattered
all over the floor. One wall was riddled
with bullets.</p>
<p>Stooping, Buck gave vent to a pleased exclamation.
He had found enough old clothes out of
which to disguise himself completely as a Belgian
peasant. Even the clumsy wooden shoes were
unearthed from one corner of the room.</p>
<p>“This simplifies everything,” he cried to Alan.
“I’ll put these things on right now and be off
into town to see how things are. Unless I’m
much mistaken, this road beside us is the main
highway into Muhlbruck, which itself can’t be
much more than a mile away if those maps of
ours are correct.</p>
<p>“In the meantime, you and Ned can wait
here for me. If I’m still alive and at liberty,
I’ll be back here by sun-up sure. If I don’t
show up by then, you can rest assured that
something unforeseen has happened to detain
me. In case anyone comes snooping around
here while I am gone, you boys had better go
aloft in the <em>Flyer</em> and return here again for me
to-morrow night. But be sure and wait here
until daylight for me, unless you are discovered.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[103]</span></p>
<p>This plan was about the best that any of the
boys could suggest, so Buck donned the old
clothes he had found, dirtied his face with dust
from the roadway and bade his chums good-bye
cheerfully. They stared regretfully after his
retreating figure in the gloom.</p>
<p>“If anything happens to him, I never shall
forgive myself,” said Ned.</p>
<p>Alan laughed in a brave attempt to seem
lighter-hearted than he was.</p>
<p>“If anybody can come through this stunt
safely, it’s Buck Stewart,” he said. “Mark
my words, he’ll be back here chipper as a sparrow
by sunrise, with a full plan of how and when
we are to rescue Bob.”</p>
<p>“I certainly hope so,” muttered Ned,
doubtfully.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Buck was striding rapidly along
the road into town, with his cap pulled low over
his eyes and his right hand nursing the handle
of a big revolver in his hip pocket. He skulked
mostly along the side of the way, where the black
shadows from the hedges tended to conceal him.
His eyes kept shifting warily from left to right
and his ears were strained to catch any sound
that might warn him of other prowlers on the
road.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[104]</span></p>
<p>Frequently he passed wayside graves—sometimes
a single mound of earth; at other times a
number of them side by side. Every somber
mound of earth was marked by a wooden cross,
on the apex of many of which the fallen soldier’s
hat was hung. Buck noticed that in many cases,
the rough cap of a French infantryman hung
side by side with battered German helmets. The
German army does everything neatly, thoroughly.
Whenever there is time it buries the fallen enemy
as well as its own dead.</p>
<p>By and by little gloomy houses began to
appear straggling along the wayside and Buck
knew then that he was in the outskirts of the
town. No lights were shown in any of the
windows. Not a cow lowed, nor dog barked.
The hush of either dread or desertion seemed
heavy in the dark night air.</p>
<p>Buck had not gone much farther when he was
startled by a sharp:</p>
<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wer geht da?</i>” (Who goes there?) as a
stalwart, gray-cloaked sentry stepped out from
the shadows of the roadside, with leveled and
bayoneted musket.</p>
<p>“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ein Freund, ein armer Landsmann, Excellenz</i>,”
(a friend, a poor farmer, your excellency)
answered Buck, gripping his revolver firmly.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[105]</span></p>
<p>“Stand out in the middle of the road where
I can see you more plainly in the moonlight,”
gruffly ordered the sentinel, poking at the seeming
peasant with his sharp bayonet.</p>
<p>Buck obeyed him, feigning great humility.
There was nothing suspicious to the German in
his appearance, but—</p>
<p>“What are you doing out so late and alone on
the highroad here?” demanded the sentry.</p>
<p>“Excellency, three weeks ago I had a home—such
a nice cozy little place!—down the road a
mile or so. I ran away into Muhlbruck when
your army marched past on the road to Paris,
and to-day I went back to see if there was anything
left for me.”</p>
<p>“And did you find anything, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Landsmann</i>?”</p>
<p>“No, excellency. The place was swept clean;
even the nice little cottage was half torn down.”</p>
<p>The burly German guffawed, as if at a huge
joke.</p>
<p>“Now I know that you are telling me the
truth, fellow,” he said. “I know your place
well. Why, I myself helped burst in the door
you locked so carefully on leaving. But you
don’t bear me any ill-will for that, do you,
now?”</p>
<p>“No, excellency.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[106]</span></p>
<p>“You had better not,” growled the sentry.
“Pass on and don’t let me catch you prowling
around here any more of nights. I have orders
to shoot anybody whose looks I don’t like.”</p>
<p>“Yes, excellency, I will remember,” said the
seeming peasant, and slunk away in the direction
of the town.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[107]</span></p>
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