Victor Appleton - The Moving Picture Boys on the War Front

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"What's that?" asked Charlie.

As if by a common impulse they all looked up, for the noise seemed to
come from above, and they saw dotting the blue sky many small, black
specks.

"Aeroplanes!" cried Blake.

The Germans had seen the objects in the air at the same time, but on
them the sight produced quite a different effect from that made on the
boys.

In an instant all thought of guarding Blake and his chums seemed to have
been forgotten. Their escort ran to one side. The sentries on duty
before the official headquarters hastened away, and some of the
elaborately gold-laced officers ran within the buildings.

A moment later a number of soldiers could be observed some distance away
manning a battery of guns, the muzzles of which pointed upward.

"They're going to fire at the airships!" cried Joe.

"And that means they are not German craft!" added Blake. "Boys, I guess
the French and Americans are making an airship raid on Mr. Fritz this
morning, and maybe it'll be a good thing for us. Let's hunt cover!"

CHAPTER XXIV

BURIED ALIVE

Even as Blake and his chums looked about for some place of refuge, the
firing of the German anti-aircraft guns began. These weapons, designed
especially for shooting straight up and sending shrapnel shells to a
considerable height, were rapidly manned and fired by crews that seemed
to be in readiness for just such danger.

The raid of the French and American airships, quickly as the defensive
preparations were made, seemed to take the Germans by surprise. That is
the only way the boys could account for the fact that their guarding
escort deserted them. For deserted they had been, some of the Germans
running back in the direction whence Blake and the others had come,
while a few, under orders from one of the German officers, helped to man
the guns of which several score were now shooting at the aircraft high
above the Hun position.

Joe, Blake and Charlie paused a moment, before seeking some shelter, to
watch the thrilling sight. On came the aeroplanes, like a flock of great
birds, and they did not resemble anything else quite so much, high up as
they were. They came on in regular formation, for the day of the lone
attack by an aeroplane was passed, except under special circumstances.

Straight for the German camp--if camp it could be called--came the
flying squadron. As yet the airships were too high to be hit by the
German guns, however great their range.

But the airships came on. Their speed was not apparent at so great a
height, but it must have been wonderful, for but a few minutes seemed to
have elapsed from the time they were first sighted, far down on the
horizon, until they were almost overhead.

"And now's the time for us to get under cover!" said Blake. "When they
begin to drop bombs, there'll be something doing around here."

"Where'll we go?" asked Charlie.

"Oh, there ought to be plenty of bomb-proofs and dug-outs in this camp.
The Germans must have been air-raided before, or they wouldn't have the
anti guns ready. The most likely place to find the best cyclone cellars
will be near the officers' headquarters, I think. Trust those fellows to
have a safe place ready."

"Do you think they are making the raid to help us?" asked Joe.

"Hardly," replied Blake. "They probably don't even know that we have
been captured. No, I guess this has been in preparation on our side for
some time, judging by the number of craft in it. I hope they wipe out
this dump!"

"But not until we get under cover!" said Joe. "Look! There goes one of
our ships!"

As he spoke a white cloud seemed to burst in the vicinity of one of the
aircraft. The machine, which with the others had come lower down, was
seen to dip and plunge. Then, after what seemed a dizzy fall, it
straightened out again and kept up with the others.

"Hit but not disabled," murmured Blake, as he and his chums paused in
their race for shelter. "The Germans are getting the range, I guess."

"Why don't we drop some bombs?" cried Joe, speaking as though he and his
friends were personally engaged.

"I guess they're waiting until they get in a favorable position,"
returned Blake. "Look out! Here comes one!"

Something black dropped from one of the airships. It fell in a long
curve, landing in a spot which the boys could not see, and an instant
later there was a terrific explosion.

"That hit an ammunition dump, all right!" cried Charlie. "Duck,
fellows!"

"In here!" yelled Blake, for at that moment they came opposite what
looked like the entrance to a tunnel. It was lighted by small electric
lamps and appeared to extend some distance into the earth. No one could
be seen in it or entering it as the boys made a dive for it.

And it was well that Blake, Joe and their assistant found shelter when
they did, for an instant later the whole area was under bombardment by
the airships. The boys, racing through the tunnel, dug underground and
timbered and braced as is a mine shaft, could not see what went on, but
they could hear and imagine.

By this time the American and French aeroplanes were directly over the
German camp and were dropping tons of explosives. The bombs struck and
burst, some of them setting off stores of ammunition and powerful powder
designed for the big guns. And these explosions, combined with the
firing of the weapons aimed to bring down the flying enemy, made a
pandemonium which penetrated even to the tunnel along which the boys
were fleeing.

"That's some fight out there!" cried Joe.

"If we could only film it!" added Charlie, his voice and that of his
chum ringing hollow in the tunnel.

"We'd stand about as much chance as we did when the volcano let loose in
Earthquake Land," answered Blake. "Come on, fellows! This isn't over
yet."

"I only hope we don't run into a party of Huns who'll drive us out,"
murmured Joe.

But, so far, they had met no one, though ahead of them they could hear a
sound as though others were running through the underground shaft
seeking a place of safety.

"Where are we going, anyhow?" asked Charlie at length.

"Going until we stop," answered Joe.

"And that'll be soon," added Blake, "for I see the last of the lights."

The boys looked down the long passage, which was well made and was high
enough to permit them to run upright. It was wide enough, also, for
three to go abreast. As Blake had said, the string of incandescent
lights, suspended overhead, came to an end a little farther on. They
stopped under the third light from the last and looked about them.

"Isn't this as good a place as any?" asked Joe. "If we go on any farther
we may get into a hole we can't get out of. I say, let's stay here.
We'll be safe from the airship bombs."

"I don't know about that," said Blake. "If you'll notice, we have come
along pretty much on the level. This tunnel wasn't dug in the side of a
hill. It went into the ground slanting, and at such a gradual slope that
the top can't be very far under the surface."

"What does that mean?" asked Charlie.

"It means that we haven't much dirt over our heads, and if a bomb were
to drop directly above us we'd be in a bad way. I think we'd better keep
on until we get to a deeper part of the cave, or whatever it is."

"But we'll have to go on in the dark," objected Joe. "There are only
three more lights, and----"

Suddenly came a muffled explosion, and the lights went out, leaving the
place in black gloom.

"Now there aren't any lights," said Charlie, when the echo of the dull
roar had passed away. The tunnel had been shaken, and there was a
pattering sound all about the boys, as if little particles of earth had
been dislodged, but no other damage appeared to have been done.

"It _is_ dark!" said Blake. "But come on. Use your pocket lights. No,
hold on. We'll use only one at a time. No telling how long we may need
them."

Bringing out his own light, he flashed it on and led the way. Above them
a continuous roar could now be heard, and they guessed that the airships
were attacking in force, directly over the German camp, and were being
fired at from all sides.

"One bomb must have splattered Fritz's electric plant," observed Joe, as
he and his chums hurried on as best they could in the somewhat dim light
of the little pocket lamp Blake carried.

Hardly had he spoken when there came a tremendous explosion--one that
staggered the boys and seemed to crumple up the tunnel as though it were
made of paper.

They had no time to cry out. They were thrown down and felt rocks and
stones falling about them, while their ears were deafened by the roaring
sound.

Then came silence and darkness--a darkness that weighed heavily on them
all, while Blake, who had been in the lead, tried to move his hand to
flash on the electric light that had gone out or been broken. He could
barely move, and as he felt dirt and rocks all about him there was borne
to his senses the horrible message:

"Buried alive!"

After that thought mercifully came unconsciousness.

CHAPTER XXV

THE END OF LABENSTEIN

How long they lay entombed in the German tunnel the moving picture boys
did not know. They must have been unconscious for some time.

Joe was the first to regain his senses. Telling about it later, he said
he dreamed that he had been taking views in Earthquake Land and that,
somehow or other, a volcano had fallen on his chest. He had difficulty
in breathing, and no wonder, for as he came to his senses he found that
a great rock and a pile of earth were across him.

Slowly at first, fearing to move much because he might bring down more
debris on himself, Joe felt about. He found that his arms and hands were
comparatively free, though partly buried in earth.

"I say!" he called, and his voice sounded strange in that dark and
broken tunnel, "is any one here but me? Blake! Charlie! Are you alive?"

No one answered, and then, feeling his strength coming back, Joe
ventured to move. He found that he could manage to emerge from the pile
of earth and stones that had fallen on him, fortunately none over his
head. When he ventured to stand upright he tried to pierce the darkness
and find out what had become of his chums.

But he could see nothing until he thought of his pocket lamp and, taking
it in his hand, flashed it about him. The light revealed to him the
figures of Blake and Charlie, lying not far away and covered with debris
as he had been.

He set the little light on a rock, leaving the switch on, and by the
intense but limited glow, he set to work to free his companions. Blake's
head was bleeding from the cut of a sharp rock, but he, like Joe and
Charlie, had fallen in such a way, or rather, the cave-in had taken
place in such a manner, that their heads and faces were comparatively
free from dirt, else they would have been smothered.

Joe worked feverishly to free his chums and at length succeeded in
freeing his assistant, who, of the two, was less covered by the debris.
Charlie opened his eyes and looked about him, asking:

"What happened? Where am I?"

"Don't stop to ask questions now," directed Joe. "Help me with Blake.
I'm afraid he's hurt!"

The two together got their chum cleared of the debris finally, and then
Joe, taking a flask of cold coffee from his pocket, gave his now
half-unconscious chum some to drink. This served further to rouse Blake,
and it was soon found, aside from a painful cut on the head, that he was
uninjured except for bruises, such as they all had.

"But what happened?" asked Charlie, as they sat down to rest on some
rocks and took turns finishing Joe's limited supply of coffee.

"The tunnel caved in on us after a big explosion of some kind," Joe
said. "I guess we're going to have trouble getting out, too."

"Let's have a look," suggested Blake. "We can't stay in here much longer
or more of the roof and sides may cave in. Can we get out?"

"I haven't looked," answered Joe. "I wanted to get the dirt off you
fellows. I'm afraid we're caught, though."

And they were. An examination, made with the pocket lights, showed them
that the way back was blocked by a mass of rock and earth and that no
progress ahead could be made for the same reason.

"I guess we'll have to dig our way out," said Joe.

"What with?" asked Charlie.

"Some of the broken boards that held up the tunnel," was the answer, and
Joe pointed to pieces of timber that had been splintered and shattered
by the cave-in.

"Yes, it's the only way out," agreed Blake, who, now that his cut had
been bound up with bandages from the first-aid kits the boys carried,
felt better. "We'll have to dig out." And after a short rest they began
this work.

A terrible fear was upon them, a fear greater than that caused by their
capture by the Germans with the possibility of being shot as spies. It
was the fear of a horrible death--buried alive.

They dug as best they could for some time with the broken boards, their
hands becoming cut and bruised by the rough edges. And yet, with all
their efforts, they could not see that they had gained much.

They were digging back along the way they had come in, for, as Blake
said, they knew how long the tunnel was in that direction, but they did
not know how far it extended the other way.

"Is it of any use to continue?" asked Joe wearily, when they had been
digging for what seemed several hours, though really it was not as long
as that.

"Of course we've got to continue!" declared Blake, half savagely. "We
can't give up now--and die!"

"We may die anyhow," said Joe.

They were resting in the darkness after strenuous digging. In the dark
because, to save the battery, they had switched off the electric light
by which they had been working.

Charlie turned to look back. They had been piling the earth behind them
as they worked, but there was not much of it as yet. They had made but
small impression on the debris that hemmed them in. And as Charlie
looked he uttered a cry.

"What is it?" asked Blake.

"A light! Don't you see a light there?" Charlie demanded. "See! Back
there through the chinks in the rock. See, a flickering light!"

There was no doubt of it! There was a gleam of light, and it appeared to
come from a point where some fallen rocks were loosely piled.

Dropping their boards, which they had been using for shovels, the boys
climbed as near as they could to the hole. In the dark as they were, the
light showed plainly.

"Can you see anything?" asked Charlie of Joe, who was nearest.

"No, only some figures moving about. It seems like some sort of dugout
beyond there, and it hasn't caved in. Maybe it's the end of the tunnel."

"Did you say you can see somebody in there?" asked Blake.

"Yes; figures moving about."

"Call to them."

"Maybe they're Germans!" exclaimed Charlie.

"They probably are," Blake answered. "But we've got to be rescued from
here and take our chance with them. It's better than being buried alive.
Hello, there!" he shouted. "Help us get out!" and he began tearing at
the stones with his hands.

Seeing his object, his chums helped him. And then some one on the other
side of the rocky barrier also began pulling down the stones, so that in
a little while, the light becoming momentarily greater, the boys saw a
way of escape open to them.

But it was a strange way. For when the rocks had been pulled down
sufficiently to enable them to crawl through, they emerged into a
space--a small room, as it were--walled with solid logs. Logs also
formed the roof. It was a room lighted by a lantern, and on a pile of
bags in one corner lay a huddled figure of a man. Standing near him was
another man--a man in a ragged blue uniform--and at the sight of his
face Blake murmured:

"Lieutenant Secor!"

"At your service!" said the Frenchman, bowing slightly.

"No!" bitterly cried Blake. "Not at _our_ service--you traitor!"

The Frenchman seemed to wince, but at that moment a call from the
huddled man in the corner attracted his attention. He bent over him,
drew back the covering and revealed in the lantern's glow the face of
Labenstein.

The German raised himself on one elbow, and a wild look came over his
face. His eyes gleamed brightly for a moment.

"They--they here!" he murmured. "Well, perhaps it is better so."

"How better? What does he mean?" asked Blake. "Does he think----"

"Hush!" and the Frenchman spoke softly. "This is the end--of
Labenstein!" And even as he spoke the man fell back dead.

Lieutenant Secor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as though the death
of the other had brought a great release to him.

"Now I can speak," said the officer. "Now I can explain, and perhaps you
will again regard me as a friend," he said softly.

"Well," returned Blake, "you probably saved our lives by helping us get
out of the tunnel. But as for being friends with----"

"Please do not say it," begged the lieutenant. "I have had to play a
part. It is over now. I can again take my place with my comrades and
fight openly for France. For I have learned all his secrets and whence
the spy-leaks came. Now my unpleasant mission is over!"

"What--what do you mean?" asked Joe, beginning, as did his chums, to
have an inkling of the truth. "Aren't you two working together against
us and for Germany?"

"Never I!" cried the Frenchman. "I am a member of the French Secret
Service, and for months I have consorted with that dog!" and he pointed
at the dead man. "I but played a part to gain his confidence and to
learn from what sources Germany was getting her secret information about
our soldiers and yours. Now I know. I will explain. But come, we must
get out of here."

"Can we get out?" asked Blake.

"Surely, yes. The tunnel goes from here into the German trenches, and
the other end was not damaged by the explosion."

"But," exclaimed Joe, "the German trenches! We don't want to go there to
be captured again."

"Have no fear," said the Frenchman, with a smile. "I should, perhaps,
have said what _were_ the German trenches. They are now held by some of
your own troops--the brave Americans!"

"They are?" cried Charlie.

"That is true! You shall see!"

"Hurrah!" cried the moving picture boys, and their fears and weariness
seemed to depart from them in a moment.

"The great airship raid was a success," went on the Frenchman. "Our
troops and yours have made a big advance, and have captured many
prisoners. They would have had Labenstein, but he is beyond prisons now.
Let us go hence! Even dead I can not endure his company. I suffered much
on his account."

"Well, things are happening so fast I don't know which to begin to think
of first," remarked Joe. "But, on general principles, I presume it's a
good thing to get out of this tunnel. Come on, boys."

"One moment," interposed the lieutenant. "Perhaps you will like to take
these with you."

He stooped and lifted a pile of trench bags, and the boys saw the boxes
of moving picture films.

"Ours?" cried Joe.

"None else," answered the Frenchman. "I trust you will find them all
right."

"Not a seal broken!" reported Charlie, who had quickly examined the
cases. "This is great!"

Together, hardly able to believe their good luck, they made their way
out of the log-protected room--once a German bomb-proof dugout. As they
emerged into the trenches, carrying the films, the boys saw American
soldiers.

"The Stars and Stripes!" cried Charlie, as he noted the United States
flag. "Now we're all right!"

"Whew! We did make some advance!" added Blake, as they saw how the
battle lines of the French and Americans had been extended since they
had crawled into No Man's Land the night before.

The boys learned later that the airship raid was the forerunner of a big
offensive that had been carried out when they were held prisoners and in
the tunnel. The Germans had been driven back with heavy loss, and one of
their ammunition dumps, or storage places, had been blown up, which had
caused the collapse of the tunnel.

That the moving picture boys were welcomed by the soldiers, among whom
they had many friends, goes without saying. And the recovery of the
films was a matter for congratulation, for they were considered very
valuable to the army.

"Though it was Lieutenant Secor who really saved them for us," explained
Blake, when the story of their adventure was being told.

"And I am glad the time has come when Lieutenant Secor can appear in his
true light," said Captain Black. "Even I suspected him, and he lost many
friends who will come back to him, now that he risked all to serve his
country in a role seldom honored--that of getting secret intelligence
from the enemy."

For that is what the French lieutenant had been doing. Even while he was
in the United States, where the boys first met him, he had been playing
that part.

"But I assure you," he said to Blake and the others, "that the
destruction of your films by my auto was an accident. When I found you
believed it done purposely I let it go that way, as it helped me play my
part the better. Also, I had to act in a manner to make you believe I
was a friend of Labenstein. But that was all a part."

And it had not been an easy part for the French officer to play. He had,
in ways of his own, come to suspect Labenstein, who went under various
names, sometimes that of Karl Kooder. This man, who held forged
citizenship papers of the United States, was a German spy and had done
much to aid the Kaiser. But he accepted Lieutenant Secor as a co-worker,
on the latter's representation that he, too, was a friend of Germany, or
rather, as the Frenchman made Labenstein think, was willing to become so
for a sum of money. So the two seemingly worked together.

"And it was thus you knew us," said the lieutenant to the boys.
"Labenstein, to use one of his names, had orders to make all the trouble
he could for you when you reached France, and to prevent your getting
any pictures, if possible. Of course he could not do that, but he tried,
even to the extent of writing a false note in London that caused your
arrest. I had, seemingly, to help him, but all the while I was
endeavoring to find out where the leak was on our side that enabled him
to profit. And I found out. The leak will be stopped.

"I even seemed to join Labenstein in signaling the submarine, though
that night, had he really succeeded in calling her with your light, I
would have killed him where he stood. However, the depth charge solved
that question.

"I had to escape from the ship with him to lull his suspicions against
me. Then I went into the German ranks with him, being thought a
deserter! That was hard for me, but I had my duty to perform.

"The rest you know. It was by a mere chance that Labenstein, when I was
with him, came upon your films after the gas attack. He thought to
profit personally from selling them, which is why he did not turn them
over at once to his superiors. Ever since then he has been trying to
dispose of them to enrich himself. And I have been trying to find a way
to get them back to you without betraying myself and my mission.

"At last chance favored me. The big air attack came just after I had
secured all the information I wanted. I was about to go back to my
comrades and arrange for the capture of Labenstein if I could. He still
had the films and was about to sell them to another German--a traitor
like himself.

"Then came the big explosion, and he was fatally hurt. We both took
refuge in the tunnel, Labenstein carrying with him the films, and you
came just as Labenstein died. Well, perhaps it is better so."

"Yes," agreed Blake, "I think it is."

"And we have the films back!" exulted Charlie.

"But, best of all, we know Lieutenant Secor is straight!" cried Joe.
"I'd hate to think anything else of him, after he saved our lives."

"Yes," agreed Blake softly.

"And now to get back on the job!" cried Joe, after a moment of silence.

And so the moving picture boys again took up their perilous calling.
They soon recovered from their slight injuries caused by the cave-in of
the tunnel, and, finding their cameras where they had left them in the
French house, resumed the turning of the cranks.

They filmed many stirring scenes, and the records they made now form an
important part of the archives of the War Office in Washington, the
films so strangely lost and recovered being considered most valuable.

Lieutenant Secor became one of the boys' firmest friends, and through
his help they were enabled to obtain many rare views. And now, having
seen them safely through some of their perils, we will take leave of
them.

THE END

[Transcriber's note: Some of the adverts appeared at the start of
the book and repeated at the end. The duplicates have been removed,
and the remaining series (Motion Picture Chums) have been added here.]

THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES

By VICTOR APPLETON

12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.

Moving pictures and photo plays are famous the world over, and in this
line of books the reader is given a full description of how the films
are made--the scenes of little dramas, indoors and out, trick pictures
to satisfy the curious, soul-stirring pictures of city affairs, life in
the Wild West, among the cowboys and Indians, thrilling rescues along
the seacoast, the daring of picture hunters in the jungle among savage
beasts, and the great risks run in picturing conditions in a land of
earthquakes. The volumes teem with adventures and will be found
interesting from first chapter to last.

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