CHAPTER X

GRACE TAKES THE SKY ROUTE

The morning was cool and there were wind clouds on the horizon when Grace Harlowe stepped out to take an observation just at daybreak on the following morning. She scanned the sky for some moments, but saw no more carrier pigeons.

Across the river the enemy was moving. She could see them plainly through her glasses and it gave her a queer feeling. Here within pistol range were the hosts of the enemy that had laid France in ruins, that had killed and wounded hundreds of thousands of her own countrymen, moving out into their own land, a land on which hardly a shell had fallen in the four years of desperate warfare. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, as Grace reasoned it out with some bitterness. Could the enemy have been driven back by force of arms and hammered until his hosts poured into the Rhine in a perfect cataract, she confessed to herself that she would have felt better over the situation. But there they were, taking their time to retire and without a shot being fired at them. The Overton girl actually shuddered to think what a different situation would exist at that moment had victory crowned the arms of the enemy.

Grace shrugged her shoulders and went back to awaken Elfreda and start the fire for breakfast.

“If the captain has not gone out, please give him some breakfast. I must hurry with mine, for I am going over to report to our superior that we are off duty to-day; that is, I am. You will be on call.”

“Are you going to report to her?” demanded Miss Briggs disapprovingly.

“Yes. I have no way of getting word to her, and by the time we drive back to the balloon base she may be on her way. The army is to make an early start to-day, I understand. It will take a long time to cross the bridges. What an opportunity for the enemy; but he knows better. He knows that the American artillery is trained on him and that machine guns are ready to sweep his ranks from this side of the river. Our people are taking no chances.”

“They are familiar with the breed,” nodded Miss Briggs.

Grace ate a hurried breakfast, and leaving her equipment with Elfreda started out at a brisk pace for the headquarters of Mrs. Chadsey Smythe. As she drew near the cottage she saw some one emerge from it. This some one proved to be the maid, Marie Debussy.

“Good morning, Marie. Where are you going?”

The girl answered dully that she was going to fetch Madame’s mess.

“You have been crying, what is the trouble?”

“Oh, Madame, it is terrible! Because I came late the supervisor would not let me in last night. She was in a terrible temper. I sat out all night and this morning she abused me terribly. Can you not do something for me? I should like so much to be with you and Miss Briggs, for you are so kind. She will abuse you if you go to her this morning. Please don’t go.”

“I presume there will be more trouble if I do,” reflected Grace. “Will you deliver a message to her for me, Marie?”

“Yes, surely, Madame.”

“Tell her, please, that I am relieved from duty for the day, that I am to spend the day with Major Colt in his balloon, with the permission of General Gordon, but that I shall report for duty to-morrow morning. I am sorry Mrs. Smythe is so unkind to you, but do try to get along with her until we reach the Rhine. I am sure there will be a change soon after we get there. Please tell her that Miss Briggs will go through in Major Colt’s car to-day with Captain Boucher of the Intelligence Department and some others.”

“I will tell her. I hope I may live with you and work for you when we reach the Rhine. I can do much for you. I will do any and all things for you. We go to Coblenz, I am told.”

Grace said that was her understanding.

“I shall be afraid with so many of the Boches about.”

“Don’t worry, Marie, you will be protected. I am so sorry you are in trouble, but I promise you it will all come out right and that you soon shall be back in your beloved France, just as I hope to be back in my much-loved country. Good-bye, and don’t forget the message.”

Elfreda and Captain Boucher were eating breakfast together when “Captain” Grace arrived. He advised Grace to take rations with her, as the balloon probably would not come down, unless forced down, until night, adding that the rest of the equipment would be placed in the army car, where she would find it, or in Miss Briggs’ billet that evening.

Immediately after breakfast Captain Boucher ordered his attendant to pack up, and to assist the ladies in shipping their belongings when the car arrived. He asked them to have the car pick him up at the cottage on the return from the balloon base.

“I shall not see you again, as I am going out,” he said shaking hands cordially with Grace. “Good luck and don’t fall out.”

“So long as the basket keeps right side up I expect to be with it,” replied the Overton girl brightly. “Good-bye, sir, and thank you.”

“If I thought you would be in position to settle a wager, Loyalheart, I should like to lay a wager that that big sausage balloon comes down a hopeless wreck with you at the bottom of the heap,” observed Miss Briggs.

“Your reasoning is bad, J. Elfreda. Were we to make such a wager and I returned in condition to pay up, don’t you see that you would lose? I am not a lawyer, but my logic on rare occasions is really brilliant. Any rebuttal?”

“Not a word,” answered Elfreda, shrugging her shoulders. “I think the car is coming.”

Everything being ready the Overton girls were soon on their way to the balloon base, that is, on the way to Major Colt’s balloon base, for the sausage observation balloons were strung out over a line several miles in length. The big gas bag was swaying, chafing at its bit, as Grace characterized it, when they reached the base. They observed that the huge bag was attached by a cable to a big, heavy army truck, the shining cable being wound about a drum on a winch. As the army moved, the truck moved, and the crew either paid out the cable or wound it in, as the officer in the basket far above them wished to go up or down.

The cable looked a too slender thread to hold such a giant of a thing as a big observation balloon. Elfreda shook her head disapprovingly as she looked at the outfit with wide-open eyes.

“I’ll bet you really wish you were going up, too,” teased Grace, having observed the expression on the face of her companion.

“What! Never! I have no ambition to go skyward on a bubble. The bubble might burst.”

“In the first place, this isn’t a bubble, and in the second place I am not going to make a spectacular leap in a parachute. Good morning, Major,” greeted “Captain” Grace as the car drew up near where the officer, clad in his flying togs, was giving directions to the men. “How soon do we take the sky route?”

“In a few minutes, Mrs. Gray. Good morning, Miss Briggs. Looks like wind to-day. Ever get sea-sick, Mrs. Gray?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you should not be air-sick. Sometimes we flop about a bit, but we shall be all right.”

“Is--is that the thing that you ride in?” questioned Elfreda pointing to the basket that was resting on the truck.

The major laughingly said it was.

“It does look rather too delicate for two human beings to ride in,” agreed Grace. “I hope it is stronger than it looks.”

The officer assured her that it would hold, though its smallness did not permit of much moving about.

“Flying now, as compared with wartime, is a perfectly safe sport. It is different when enemy artillery are trying to pot one, and enemy airplanes are dropping incendiary bombs at you or trying to rake you with machine-gun fire. That sometimes makes it quite interesting for the balloonist. As a matter of common prudence, however, we always attach ourselves to parachutes, as we will do this morning,” added the major.

J. Elfreda shot a significant glance at her companion and Grace looked a little troubled, but this soon passed and she began asking questions about the parachute. She observed that two of them were attached to the basket.

“Our parachutes,” explained the major, “when open are thirty-five feet in diameter, with a circular hole in the top about a foot wide to permit the imprisoned air to escape. Otherwise the parachute would go into a side-slip in making a descent.”

“Cheerful, isn’t it?” observed Miss Briggs under her breath.

“Fastened to the edge of the parachute, as you can see, are small cords which lead down and attach to half as many light ropes, finally terminating in only two ropes which are fastened to the harness worn by the person for whose use the parachute is intended,” continued the major. “That cone-shaped case contains the entire works. I’ll not go into the mechanism of the contrivance in detail. When a man prepares to descend, the harness being already on him, the parachute is pulled from the case and out he jumps. Then all he has to do is to wait for the parachute to open.”

“Quite simple, sir,” agreed Elfreda. “All one has to do is to jump, and wait. If the parachute breaks or doesn’t open you keep on waiting. Is that it, Major?”

The major laughingly agreed that it was.

“It is well to understand the workings before one goes up. I know it all sounds formidable to you, but it isn’t at all formidable. See that you are fastened all right and make certain that your harness has not fouled, then jump.”

“Do parachutes ever fail to open?” questioned Grace soberly.

“I have heard of such cases, but not in this war. If one thinks fast and clearly and doesn’t lose his head, the chances are that he will be all right.”

“How far does one ordinarily drop before the parachute opens?” asked Miss Briggs.

“About fifty feet, sometimes a little less if one is heavy. If light, he might fall much further than this.”

“Heavens!” exclaimed J. Elfreda. “Grace, I’m sorry for you. Being light you may fall a mile before the thing opens, and by that time you may have no need for a parachute.”

“I should think one would land pretty hard,” suggested Grace.

“About the equivalent of jumping from a fence. The descent is very easy, about five hundred feet a minute. However, there will be no need for worry to-day. I am explaining these matters merely as a matter of routine and ordinary prudence. I can imagine no emergency that would make it necessary for you to take the jump into space. If I did, I shouldn’t be taking you up. No, there is no possibility of such a thing. Now, if you will step down we will get you into your flying togs and harness you to the parachute.”

For a moment Grace Harlowe’s courage weakened, but only for a moment.

“If I can go through a battle in the air in an airplane, I surely can ride in a captive balloon, even if the basket I am to ride in does look like a toy spaniel’s sleeping basket,” she told herself. “I am ready, sir,” she announced, stepping down.

A heavy flying coat and helmet were put on, then came the harness. The latter was adjusted while Grace was standing on the ground, the major fixing her up before donning his own harness, examining it with a care that sent the cold chills up and down the spine of J. Elfreda Briggs.

“Does it pinch you anywhere?” asked the major. “You know it must fit firmly.”

“I think it is quite comfortable,” replied Grace. “Now what do I do?”

“Climb up the ladder and get in, being careful that you do not foul the lines.”

The officer stood on the ground to watch her getting in to make certain that the parachute ropes did not become tangled. Grace ran up the ladder nimbly and climbed over into the basket, which was just deep enough to leave her head and shoulders showing above its upper edge.

“All set,” cried the major, going up the ladder. “Let up gently. I’ll direct you as we go as to altitude. You see, Mrs. Gray, we are connected with the truck by a telephone wire, so that the observer may be always in contact not only with his base, but also with the artillery control station. We spot in wartime, both for marks and for results. Sorry I can’t show you some spotting under actual war conditions.”

“I am quite content to have you tell me about it,” laughed Grace.

The major grinned, then tested the telephone, adjusted the aneroid barometer, took a final glance around, and nodded to the flight sergeant. The latter blew two short whistles, and as if for good measure bellowed “Let go!”

“Better come along,” called down Grace to Elfreda who with one hand shading her eyes was gazing up at them, her face a little pale.

Miss Briggs shook her head.

“One balloonatic in the family is enough,” she cried, then something seemed to be drawing the earth away from Grace Harlowe, and she suddenly realized that they were going up.