CHAPTER XXVII.

WONDERFUL NEWS.

"If what you suspect is true, Josh," said Rod hurriedly, "we must do something to baffle the terrible game he is bent on playing. Can you lead us to the place where the man is hiding, and is it possible to get close to him without his knowing about our being there?"

"Sure thing, Rod; why, I could have jumped down on his back if I'd wanted to; but I just moved away as slick as you please."

On second thoughts, however, Rod changed his plan. What he had contemplated trying seemed too risky; for if the man learned that his plot was discovered he might touch the key and explode the mine before the boys could master him, even though all the staff including the general himself had not gathered as yet under the Headquarters shelter.

"I'll try and get in touch with the officers before the council is called," he told his comrades, and immediately started off.

It was an object with Rod to hasten his steps, and yet at the same time try not to arouse any suspicion. If he were detained on the way precious seconds would be lost, and after all he might fail to save the French officers from a dreadful fate at the hands of a crazy German soldier.

Arriving close to the shelter of which mention has been made, Rod boldly singled out a man who he fancied would be apt to listen to him.

"Pardon, Monsieur," he said hastily, "but by accident myself and friends have just learned that there is a scheme afoot to blow up this shelter while you and your brave fellow officers are in conference. Even now a madman lies hidden close by, his finger on a battery, and ready to close the circuit in haste. I am come to give you warning. Please do not exhibit any alarm, but arrange it so that every one may spring away from this place when you give the word!"

The officer stared hard at him, as indeed he had good reason to. The information was certainly of a thrilling nature, and well calculated to arouse a chill in the region of his heart.

Again that frank and fearless face of Rod convinced his listener of the truth of his story, even though it seemed so remarkable and monstrous. The officer turned to his four companions and said something to them in a low but positive tone. From their startled looks it was soon evident that they chose to take the warning most seriously.

All at once he uttered a loud cry. It was the signal agreed upon, for every man proceeded to leap away from the shelter and make haste to place as many yards as possible between Headquarters and his own person. Rod had taken care to be on his way before this, since his object had already been accomplished.

If any of those French officers had felt disposed to doubt the truth of the astounding story that had been brought to them by the American boy they found immediate cause to change their minds. Hardly had the last of them succeeded in leaving the shelter than there came a heavy shock, and up into the air arose the fragments of the cover under which they had just been gathered.

Had they remained where they were ten seconds before not one of them would have likely escaped death or severe bodily injuries.

A loud shout from Josh just then called attention to a running figure. The hidden conspirator, seeing that his mad scheme had proven a failure, must have crept forth from his hiding place, and was hoping to escape in the general confusion. But his uniform betrayed him, and presently guns began to sound, until finally they saw him curl up on the ground.

It was later on found that he had only been wounded, and he was brought in, foaming at the mouth. There could be no doubt regarding his condition, for even a tyro might see that he was crazy, perhaps from a wound received in the head in some earlier stage of the great battle.

It was not believed that German officers would connive at such a dastardly scheme as trying to blow up a shelter under which the French staff had gathered for consultation; and in the end it was put down as only the plot of one who was wholly irresponsible.

Of course the three American boys were thanked most heartily by the officers whose lives they had saved. It promised to turn out to be one of the best things that could have happened for them; and, as Josh remarked, their old luck seemed to be working at full speed.

They were soon summoned into the presence of the general, who, with his staff gathered about him, publicly thanked Rod and his chums for their recent act. He shook their hands with considerable feeling, as became an effusive Frenchman whose life was not only valuable to himself and his beloved country in time of need, but also to the wife and children who awaited news of his labors at home, and daily prayed for his safety.

While they stood there the madman was brought past, screaming and carrying on in a frightful manner. He must have been connected with the Engineer or Signal Corps of the enemy forces, to have the knowledge of explosives that he did, as well as the ability to lay his wires so as not to attract attention.

The boys could admire any deed of daring that was meant to further the cause of a soldier's heart; but to plot to blow up a whole staff in such a treacherous way was something that could only originate in a disordered mind, and filled them with horror.

"Now tell me who you are, and what brings you here at such a time, when France is bleeding from ten thousand wounds, and Paris has only been saved as through a miracle?"

It was, of course, the general who asked this. He was looking into the expressive face of Rod while speaking, and perhaps unconsciously saying to himself that if his oldest boy ever grew up to be such a manly looking young fellow as this American cousin he would be contented; for that was usually the way Rod impressed those whom he met.

Rod was just about to answer and explain as briefly as possible, for he knew how valuable time must be with this brave officer, when something interrupted him.

A number of men were passing and carrying a stretcher upon which lay one of their number. Rod guessed that this must be the hero of the battle when he saw every officer make a salute that could only stand for his appreciation toward valor beyond all parallel.

"That's the man who threw the bomb that saved the ford!" said Josh to Hanky Panky, as the little procession drew near.

Evidently the wounded man had received attention at the hands of the field surgeon, and was now about to be placed in an ambulance and taken to Paris with an escort of honor to guard him. Nothing could be too good for him in the opinion of those who had observed his daring deed.

The general laid his hand on Rod's arm.

"Come," he said kindly, "it seems that you too witnessed the wonderful feat performed by this hero of heroes. Perhaps you would be glad to say you had taken his hand when you return to your native country. I am pleased to say he will undoubtedly live to receive the honors that a grateful France is ready to shower on his head."

"Thank you, Monsieur le General," said Rod warmly; "I speak for my comrades as well when I say we would esteem it an honor to meet him; and we also hope and pray he may live to see victory come to France."

Accompanying the general, they advanced toward the party with the stretcher. The attendants had halted at a signal from the commander-in-chief, and set their burden down. Rod saw the face of the man who had dared all to save his fellows. Somehow it seemed to him that somewhere or other he must have met him before, although for the life of him Rod could not imagine how that could be.

"This, then, is the one man whose act made the taking of the ford possible," said the French general; "and when you remember what this day you have witnessed, always place high on the roll of fame the honored name of Andre D'Aubrey, to whom we who have fought the battle for the ford owe all our success!"

"What! _our_ Andre, and a hero of heroes at that!" cried Josh, able to grasp the amazing fact, even if much that the general had said was as Greek to him; "now what do you think of that, Hanky Panky?"

As for the party in question, he could only stare and shake his head as though utterly unable to understand what it meant.

Rod suddenly remembered why the face of the man on the stretcher had seemed so familiar. When Jeanne told him all about her troubles he had been looking at the small boy who accompanied her on her milk route with the dog team; and it was Andre's son whose face was in his mind when he stared at the father, for the lad was certainly "a chip off the old block."

Things could hardly have turned out better for the three Motorcycle Boys. Why, not only would Andre have witnesses when he signed the document, but high honors awaited him after he had recovered from his wounds. Jeanne in her far-distant, humble home in Antwerp must soon hear great tidings that would bring her much joy.

No wonder then that Rod hastened to pour out the story in his best French.