Victor Appleton - The Moving Picture Boys on the War Front

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"No, I'll take good care you don't run into me," muttered Macaroni.

"And you, my friends of the movies--you camera men, as you call
yourselves--you are going to France also?"

"We don't know where we are going, any more than you do," said Blake.

"Ah, then you are in the duty, too? You are under orders?"

"In a way, yes," said Blake. "We are, if you will excuse me for saying
so, on a sort of mission----"

"Ah, I understand, monsieur! A thousand pardons. It is a secret mission,
is it not? Tut! Tut! I must not ask! You, too, are soldiers in a way. I
must not talk about it. Forget that I have asked you. I am as silent as
the graveyard. What is that delightful slang you have--remember it no
more? Ah, I have blundered! Forget it! Now I have it! I shall forget
it!" and, with a gay laugh, he smiled at the boys, and then, nodding,
strolled about the deck.

"He's jolly enough, anyhow," remarked Joe.

"Yes, and perhaps we have wronged him," said Blake. "The best way is not
to talk too much to him. We might let something slip out without knowing
it. Let him jabber as much as he likes. We'll just saw wood."

"I suppose he'd call that some more of our delightful slang, and
translate it 'render into small pieces portions of the forest trees for
the morning fire,'" laughed Joe. "Well, Blake, I guess you're right.
We've got to keep things under our hats!"

"And watch our cameras and films," added Charlie. "No more
accidental-purpose collisions for mine!"

In the novelty and excitement of getting fairly under way the moving
picture boys forgot, for the time being, the presence of one who might
be not only an enemy of theirs but of their country also. It was not the
first time Blake and Joe had undertaken a long voyage, but this was
under auspices different from any other.

The United States was at war with a powerful and unscrupulous nation.
There were daily attacks on merchantmen, as well as on war vessels, by
the deadly submarine, and there was no telling, once they reached the
danger zone, what their own fate might be.

So even the start of the voyage was different from one that might have
been taken under more favorable skies. Soon after they had passed into
the lower bay word was passed that the passengers would be assigned to
"watches," or squads, for lifeboat drill, in anticipation of reaching
the dangerous submarine zone.

And then followed anxious days, not that there was any particular danger
as yet from hostile craft, but every one anticipated there would be,
and there was a grim earnestness about the lifeboat drills.

"I have been through it all before--when I came over," said Lieutenant
Secor to the boys; "but it has not lost its terrible charm. It is a part
of this great war!"

And as the ship plowed her way on toward her destination the anxious
days became more anxious, and there were strained looks on the faces of
all.

CHAPTER VI

A QUEER CONFERENCE

Halifax was safely reached, nothing more exciting having occurred
between that port and New York than a severe thunder storm, and, after
the usual inspection by the English authorities, the ship bearing the
moving picture boys was once more on her way.

The lifeboat drills were rigorously kept up, and now, as the real voyage
had begun, with each day bringing nearer the dreaded submarine peril,
orders were given in regard to the display of lights after dark. The
passengers were ordered to be in readiness, to keep life preservers at
hand, and were told that as soon as the actual danger zone was reached
it would be advisable for all to keep their clothing on at night as well
as during the day.

"But the destroyers will convoy us, won't they?" asked Charlie Anderson.

"Oh, yes! They'll be on hand to greet us when the time comes," answered
Blake. "Uncle Sam's as well as King George's. But, for all that, a
submarine may slip in between them and send a torpedo to welcome us."

"Then's when I'm going to get busy with the small camera," declared Joe.

"A heap of good it'll do you to get some pictures of it, if the ship is
blown up," remarked his chum.

"Oh, well, I'm going to take a chance. Every ship that's torpedoed
doesn't sink, and we may be one of the lucky ones. And if I should
happen to get some views of a destroyer sinking a submarine--why, I'd
have something that any camera man in the world would be proud of!"

"That's right!" agreed Blake. "But don't take any chances."

Joe promised to heed this advice, and he was really enthusiastic about
his chance of getting a view of an oncoming torpedo. That he might get
views of a warship or a destroyer sinking one of the Hun undersea boats
was what he dreamed about night and day.

It was the day before they were actually to enter the danger zone--the
zone marked off in her arrogance by Germany--that something occurred
which made even cautious Blake think that perhaps they were justified in
their suspicions of the Frenchman.

The usual lifeboat drills had been held, and the passengers were
standing about in small groups, talking of what was best to be done in
case the torpedo or submarine alarm should be given, when Macaroni, who
had been down in the cabin, came up and crossed the deck to where Blake
and Joe were talking to two young ladies, to whom they had been
introduced by the captain.

By one of the many signs in use among moving picture camera men, which
take the place of words when they are busy at the films, Macaroni gave
the two chums to understand he wanted to speak to them privately and at
once. The two partners remained a little longer in conversation, and
then, making their excuses, followed their helper to a secluded spot.

"What's up?" demanded Joe. "Have you made some views of a torpedo?"

"Or seen a periscope?" asked Blake.

"Neither one," Charlie answered. "But if you want to see something that
will open your eyes come below."

His manner was so earnest and strange, and he seemed so moved by what he
had evidently seen, that Blake and Joe, asking no further questions,
followed him.

"What is it?" Joe demanded, as they were about to enter their cabin, one
occupied by the three of them.

"Look there!" whispered the helper, as he pointed to a mirror on their
wall.

Blake and Joe saw something which made them open their eyes. It was the
reflection of a strange conference taking place in the stateroom across
the passageway from them, a conference of which a view was possible
because of open transoms in both staterooms and mirrors so arranged that
what took place in the one across the corridor was visible to the boys,
yet they remained hidden themselves.

Blake and Joe saw two men with heads close together over a small table
in the center of the opposite stateroom. The tilted mirror transferred
the view into their own looking-glass. The men appeared to be examining
a map, or, at any rate, some paper, and their manner was secretive,
alone though they were.

But it was not so much the manner of the men as it was the identity of
one that aroused the curiosity and fear of the moving picture
boys--curiosity as to what might be the subject of the queer conference,
and fear as to the result of it.

For one of the men was Lieutenant Secor, the Frenchman, and the other
was a passenger who, though claiming to be a wealthy Hebrew with
American citizenship, was, so the boys believed, thoroughly German. He
was down on the passenger list as Levi Labenstein, and he did bear some
resemblance to a Jew, but his talk had the unmistakable German accent.

Not that there are not German Jews, but their tongue has not the knack
of the pure, guttural German of Prussia. And this man's voice had none
of the nasal, throaty tones of Yiddish.

"Whew!" whistled Joe, as he and Blake looked into the tell-tale mirror.
"That looks bad!"

"Hush!" cautioned Blake. "The transoms are open and he may hear you."

But a look into the reflecting glasses showed that the two men--the
Frenchman and the German--had not looked up from their eager poring over
the map, or whatever paper was between them.

"How long have they been this way?" asked Blake, in a whisper, of
Charlie.

"I don't know," Macaroni answered. "I happened to see them when I came
down to get something, and after I'd watched them a while I went to tell
you."

"I'm glad you did," went on Blake; "though I don't know what it
means--if it means anything."

"It means something, all right," declared Joe, and he, like the others,
was careful to keep his voice low-pitched. "It means treason, if I'm any
judge!"

"Treason?" repeated Blake.

"Yes; wouldn't you call it that if you saw one of our army officers
having a secret talk with a German enemy?"

"I suppose so," assented Blake. "And yet Lieutenant Secor isn't one of
our officers."

"No, but he's been in our camps, and he's been a guest of Uncle Sam.
He's been in a position to spy out some of the army secrets, and now we
see him talking to this German."

"But this man may _not_ be a subject of the Kaiser," said Blake.

"Sure he is!" declared Charlie. "He's no more a real Jew than I am! He's
a Teuton! Germany has no love for the Jews, and they don't have any use
for the Huns. Take my word for it, fellows, there's something wrong
going on here."

"It may be," admitted Blake; "but does it concern us?"

"Of course it does!" declared Joe. "This Frenchman may be betraying some
of Uncle Sam's secrets to the enemy--not only our enemy, but the enemy
of his own country."

"Yes, I suppose there are traitorous Frenchmen," said Blake slowly, "but
they are mighty few."

"But this means something!" declared Macaroni.

And Blake, slow as he was sometimes in forming an opinion, could not but
agree with him.

In silence the boys watched the two men at their queer conference. The
tilted mirrors--one in each stateroom--gave a perfect view of what went
on between the Frenchman and the German, as the boys preferred to think
Labenstein, but the watchers themselves were not observed. This they
could make sure of, for several times one or the other of the men across
the corridor looked up, and full into the mirror on their own wall, but
they gave no indication of observing anything out of the ordinary.

The mirrors were fastened in a tilted position to prevent them from
swinging as the ship rolled, and as they did not sway there was an
unchanged view to be had.

"I wonder what they're saying," observed Blake.

They could only guess, however, for though the men talked rapidly and
eagerly, as evidenced by their gestures, what they said was not audible.
Though both transoms were open, no sound came from the room opposite
where the boys were gathered. The men spoke too low for that.

"I guess they know it's dangerous to be found out," said Joe.

"But we ought to find out what it's about!" declared Macaroni.

"Yes, I think we ought," assented Blake. "This Frenchman has been in our
country, going about from camp to camp according to his own story, and
he must have picked up a lot of information."

"And he knows about our pictures, too!"

"Well, I don't imagine what we have taken, so far, will be of any great
value to Germany, assuming that Lieutenant Secor is a spy and has told
about them," Blake said.

"We've got to find out something about this, though, haven't we?" asked
Joe.

"I think we ought to try," agreed his chum. "Perhaps we should tell
Captain Merceau. He's a Frenchman, and will know how to deal with
Secor."

"Good idea!" exclaimed Joe. "If we could only get him down here to see
what we've seen, it would clinch matters. I wonder----"

But Joe ceased talking at a motion from Blake, who silently pointed at
the mirror. In that way they saw the reflection of the men in the other
cabin. They arose from their seats at the table, and the map or whatever
papers they had been looking at, were put away quietly in the
Frenchman's pocket.

He and the German, as the boys decided to call Labenstein, spoke in
whispers once more, and then shook hands, as if to seal some pact.

Then, as the boys watched, Lieutenant Secor opened the door of the
stateroom, which had been locked. He stepped out into the corridor, and
was now lost to view.

The next moment, to the surprise of Blake and his two friends, there
came a knock on their own door, and a voice asked:

"Are you within, young gentlemen of the cameras? I am Lieutenant Secor!"

CHAPTER VII

"PERISCOPE AHOY!"

Sudden and unexpected was the knocking, and it found the boys unready to
answer it. They had no idea that the conspirators--either or both of
them--would come directly from their conference to the room where a
watch had been kept on them.

"Do you think he saw us?" asked Joe, in a whisper.

"S'posing he did?" demanded Charlie. "We have the goods on him, all
right."

Blake held up a hand to enjoin silence, though the remarks of his
friends had been made in the lowest of tones.

The knock was given again, and the voice of the Frenchman asked:

"Are you within, my friends of the camera? I wish to speak with you!"

"One moment!" called Blake, in a tone he tried to make pleasant. Then
he motioned to Joe and Charlie to seem to be busy over the midget
camera, which was kept ready for instant use. At the same moment Blake
threw a black focusing cloth over the mirror, for he thought the
Frenchman might notice that it was in a position to reflect whatever
took place in the opposite room.

"Act natural--as if you were getting ready to make some pictures," Blake
whispered in Joe's ear, and then opened the door.

"Pardon me for disturbing you," began Lieutenant Secor, "but I have just
come down from on deck. They are having a special lifeboat drill, and I
thought perhaps you might like to get some views of it. Also, I have a
favor to ask of you."

"Come in," said Blake, as he opened the door wider. At the same time he
noticed that the door of the stateroom across the corridor was shut.

"Just came down from deck, did he?" mused Joe, as he took note of the
Frenchman's false statement. "Well, he must have run up and run down
again in jig fashion to be able to do that. I wonder what he wants to
ask us?"

Joe and Charlie pretended to be adjusting the small camera, and Blake
smiled a welcome he did not feel. Black suspicion was in his heart
against the Frenchman. An open enemy Blake could understand, but not a
spy or a traitor.

"I thought perhaps you might like to get some of the views from on
deck," went on Lieutenant Secor, smiling his white-toothed smile. "They
are even lowering boats into the water--a realistic drill!"

Blake looked at Joe as much as to ask if it would be advisable to get
some views. At the same time Blake made a sign which Joe interpreted to
mean:

"Go up on deck and see what's going on--you and Charlie. I'll take care
of him down here."

"Come on!" Joe remarked to their helper, as he gathered up the small
camera. "We'll take this in."

"I thought you might like it," said the Frenchman. "That's why I hurried
down to tell you."

"Now I wonder," thought Blake to himself, as Joe made ready to leave,
"why he thinks it worth his while to tell that untruth? What is his
game?"

At the same time an uneasy thought came to Joe.

"If we go up and leave Blake alone with this fellow, may not something
happen? Perhaps he'll attack Blake!"

But that thought no sooner came than it was dismissed, for, Joe
reasoned, what harm could happen to his chum, who was well able to take
care of himself? True, the Frenchman might be armed, but so was Blake.
Then, too, there could be no object in attacking Blake. He had little of
value on his person, and the films and cameras were not in the
stateroom. And there were no films of any value as yet, either.

"Guess I'm doing too much imagining," said Joe to himself. "This fellow
may be a plotter and a spy in German pay--and I haven't any doubt but
what he is--but I reckon Blake can look after himself. Anyhow, he wants
me to leave Secor to him, and I'll do it. But not too long!"

So Joe and Charlie, taking the small camera with them, went up on deck.
There they did find an unusual lifeboat drill going on. The danger zone
was now so close that Captain Merceau and his officers of the ship were
taking no chances. They wanted to be prepared for the worst, and so they
had the men passengers practise getting into the boats, which were
lowered into the water and rowed a short distance away from the ship.

The women and children, of whom there were a few on board, watched from
the decks, taking note of how to get into the boats, and how best to act
once they were in their places.

"Going to film this?" asked Charlie of Joe.

"No, I think not," was the answer. "It's interesting, but there have
been lots of drills like it. If it were the real thing, now, I'd shoot;
but I'm going to save the film on the chance of getting a sub or a
torpedo. This is a sort of bluff on the part of you and me, anyhow.
Blake wanted to get us out of the cabin while he tackled Secor, I
reckon. What _his_ game is I don't know."

"I can come pretty near to guessing," said Macaroni, as he stretched his
lank legs, which had, in part, earned him the nickname. "That fake
lieutenant is planning some game with the German spy, that's his game."

"Maybe," admitted Joe. "But I don't see how we figure in it."

"Perhaps we will after we've gotten some reels of valuable film,"
suggested Charlie. "Don't crow until you've ground out the last bit of
footage."

"No, that's right. Look, that boat's going to spill if I'm any judge!"

Excited shouts and a confusion of orders drew the attention of the boys
and many others to a lifeboat where, amidships on the port side, it was
being lowered away as part of the drill. There were a number of sailors
in it--part of the crew--and, as Joe and Charlie watched, one of the
falls became jammed with the result that the stern of the boat was
suddenly lowered while the bow was held in place.

As might have been expected, the sudden tilting of the boat at an acute
angle threw the occupants all into one end. There were yells and shouts,
and then came splashes, as one after another fell into the ocean.

Women and children screamed and men hoarsely called to one another. For
a moment it looked as though the safety drill would result in a tragedy,
and then shrill laughter from the men who had fallen into the water, as
well as cries of merriment from those who still clung to the boat,
showed that, if not intended as a joke, the happening had been turned
into one.

The sailors were all good swimmers, the day was sunny and the water
warm, and in a short time another boat had been rowed to the scene of
the upset, and those who went overboard were picked up, still laughing.

"I might have taken that if I had known they were going to pull a stunt
like that," said Joe, a bit regretfully. "However, I guess we'll get all
the excitement we want when we get to the war front."

"I believe you!" exclaimed Charlie. "There's our German spy," he added,
pointing to the dark-complexioned and bearded man who had been seen,
through the mirrors' reflections, talking to the Frenchman. He had
evidently hurried up on deck to ascertain the cause of the confusion,
for he was without collar or tie.

The boat was righted, the wet sailors went laughing below to change into
dry garments, and the passengers resumed their usual occupations which,
in the main, consisted of nervously watching the heaving waves for a
sight of a periscope, or a wake of bubbles that might tell of an
on-speeding torpedo.

Mr. Labenstein, to credit him with the name on the passenger list, gave
a look around, and, seeing that there was no danger, at once went below
again.

"Wonder how Blake's making out?" asked Charlie of Joe, as they walked
the deck. "Do you think we'd better go down?"

"Not until we get some word from him. Hello! Here he is now!" and Joe
pointed to their friend coming toward them.

"Well?" asked Joe significantly.

"Nothing much," answered Blake. "He was as nice and affable as he always
is. Just talked about the war in general terms. Said the Allies and
Uncle Sam were sure to win."

"Did he want anything?" asked Charlie. "He said he was going to ask a
favor, you know."

"Well, he hinted for information as to what we were going to do on the
other side, but I didn't give him any satisfaction. Then he wanted to
know whether we would consider an offer from the French Government."

"What'd you say to that?"

"I didn't give him a direct answer. Said I'd think about it. I thought
it best to string him along. No telling what may be behind it all."

"You're right," agreed Joe. "Lieutenant Secor will bear watching. Did
he have any idea we were observing him?"

"I think not. If he did, he didn't let on. But I thought sure, when he
came across the corridor and knocked, that he'd discovered us."

"So did I, and I was all ready to bluff him out. But we'll have to be on
the watch, and especially on the other side."

"What do you mean?" asked Blake.

"Well, I have an idea he's after our films, the same as he was before,
either to spoil them or get them for some purpose of his own. Just now
we aren't taking any, and he hasn't any desire, I suppose, to get
possession of the unexposed reels. But when we begin to make pictures of
our boys in the trenches, and perhaps of some engagements, we'll have to
see that the reels are well guarded."

"We will," agreed Blake. "What was going on up here? We heard a racket,
and Labenstein rushed up half dressed."

"Lifeboat spilled--no harm done," explained Charlie. "Well, I might as
well take this camera below if we're not going to use it."

"Come on, Blake," urged Joe. "They're going to have gun drill. Let's
watch."

The vessel carried four quick-firing guns for use against submarines,
one each in the bow and stern, and one on either beam. The gunners were
from Uncle Sam's navy and were expert marksmen, as had been evidenced
in practice.

"Are we in the danger zone yet?" asked one of the two young women whose
acquaintance Blake and Joe had made through the courtesy of Captain
Merceau.

"Oh, yes," Blake answered. "We have been for some time."

"But I thought when we got there we would be protected by warships or
torpedo-boat destroyers," said Miss Hanson.

"We're supposed to be," replied Joe. "I've been looking for a sight of
one. They may be along any minute. Look, there comes a messenger from
the wireless room. He's going to the bridge where the captain is. Maybe
that's word from a destroyer now."

Interestedly they watched the messenger make his way to the bridge with
a slip of paper in his hand. And then, before he could reach it, there
came a hail from the lookout in the crow's nest high above the deck.

He called in French, but Joe and Blake knew what he said. It was:

"Periscope ahoy! Two points off on the port bow! Periscope ahoy!"

CHAPTER VIII

BEATEN OFF

Decks that, a moment, before, had exhibited scenes of quietness, though
there was a nervous tenseness on all sides, at once assumed feverish
activity. Officers on duty, hearing the cry of the lookout, called to
him to repeat his message, which he did, with the added information that
the submarine, as evidenced by the appearance of the periscope cutting
the water, was approaching nearer, and with great swiftness.

"Here she comes, Blake!" cried Joe, as the two boys stood together at
the spot from which they had been watching the wireless messenger a
moment before. "Here she comes! Now for a chance at a picture!"

"You're not going below, are you?" cried Blake.

"Why not?" asked Joe, pausing on his way to the companionway.

"Why, we may be blown up at any moment! We may be hit by a torpedo! I
don't see why they haven't loosed one at us before this, as their
periscope is in sight. You shouldn't go below now! Stay on deck, where
you'll have a chance to get in the boat you're assigned to!"

"I've got to go below to get the small camera," answered Joe. "I ought
to have kept it on deck. I'm going to, after this, to have it ready."

"But, Joe, the torpedo may be on its way now--under water!"

"That's just what I want to get a picture of! I guess if we're going to
be blown up, being below deck or on deck doesn't make much difference. I
want to get that picture!"

And, seeing that his chum was very much in earnest, Blake, not to let
Joe do it alone, went below with him to get the camera. But on the way
they met Charlie coming up with it.

"She's all loaded, boys, ready for action!" cried the lanky Macaroni. "I
started down for it as soon as I heard the lookout yell! I didn't know
what he was jabbering about, seeing I don't understand much French, but
I guessed it was a submarine. Am I right?"

"Yes!" shouted Joe. "Good work, Mac! Now for a picture!"

And while Joe and his two friends were thus making ready, in the face of
imminent disaster, to get pictures of the torpedo that might be on its
way to sink the ship, many other matters were being undertaken.

Passengers were being called to take the places previously assigned to
them in the lifeboats. Captain Merceau and his officers, after a hasty
consultation, were gathered on the bridge, looking for the first sight
of the submarine, or, what was more vital, for the ripples that would
disclose the presence of the torpedo.

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