"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 doc.u.ment, 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.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CONCLUSION.

When the main facts of the story had been told the impulsive and gallant French general insisted that the paper be signed, with him and members of his staff as witnesses. He also declared that he would see to it that the family of Andre should be brought on to Paris with as little delay as possible; because it was expected that sooner or later the Germans would decide to take Antwerp.

All this filled Rod and his chums with the greatest of pleasure. The wounded man was looking exceedingly happy, for the news he had just received concerning his loved ones filled him with more delight than even the prospect of receiving great military honors, and possibly being made a captain on account of his recent feat.

Nor was this all, it seemed. While Rod was relating his story he had noticed that a man who was not in uniform had approached, and seemed to be listening intently. Thinking that he might be some one who desired to make a report to the general, Rod had paid little attention to this unknown party. Judge of his astonishment and delight as well when the other pushed forward, making a respectful salute to the commander-in-chief, and announced his ident.i.ty.

"Behold in me the villain of the piece," he remarked grimly; "I am Jules Baggott, the cousin who plotted to keep Andre from receiving the inheritance our uncle had planned to give him. With shame I confess it now, but, my general, never again would I be guilty of conspiring against a member of my family who has won for it and for France such imperishable renown. I, too, saw what Andre did, and even though I had the power to destroy that paper at this minute I would scorn to do so.

Here and now I beg his forgiveness. His wife and family have reason to be proud of him, even as we are."

Rod never knew whether Jules meant all he said. He did not altogether like the man's looks; but his words were fair enough, and he acted as though for once in his life he was thoroughly ashamed of himself.

It turned out that Jules could not serve as a soldier on account of lacking the sight in one of his eyes; so there was really nothing to his discredit in his absence from the army. In reality he had become a member of the Secret Service, and doubtless would find a means in that capacity to do his part in the long war that faced France.

Of course the general could not give them any more of his valuable time.

He did shake hands all around again at parting, and a.s.sured Rod that he would take a personal interest in seeing that Andre and his family were speedily reunited in Paris. With that the boys believed they had good reason to feel satisfied; and that they could conscientiously give over their adventurous and perilous journey to the battle front where the two rival armies were fighting so desperately day after day.

Hanky Panky in particular displayed considerable delight at the prospect of once more turning their faces toward home. He had, to tell the truth, become weary of all these pictures of savage warfare, and yearned to again gaze upon peaceful scenes such as the country beyond the sea held in store for them. Faces of his boyhood friends were appearing before him in his dreams every single night, and too the loved ones left behind had never seemed one half so precious as now.

"This fighting business may be all very well for those who like it,"

Hanky Panky was saying as they prepared to cross the ford again, this time on the ambulance that would take Andre, as well as several other wounded men, to the hospitals of Paris, "but I'm not much of a hand at that game. Baseball and football are the limit of my sc.r.a.pping abilities. This thing of standing up before a quick-firing battery, and getting punched all full of holes, doesn't appeal to me at all, though Josh here seems to never get enough of watching men shoot each other down."

"Oh! say, don't make me out to be a regular _savage_," remonstrated Josh, in turn; "I feel just as bad as the next one to see a man get hurt; but my folks came of a line of soldiers, I guess, because some of 'em fought in the Revolutionary War; so it must be in my blood to want to see stirring sights all the time. Now, I wouldn't be caught attending a bull fight, or even watching two roosters sc.r.a.p, because that makes me sick; but when men are standing up and sacrificing their lives for love of their country it somehow just thrills me to the marrow, and I never can drag myself away. But all the same I confess I'll be glad to get back home again. There are plenty of ways to get excitement without being on the battle line."

They took a last look around them, wishing to carry away a full remembrance of the scene at the captured ford. How often would every item of that never-to-be-forgotten engagement come back to haunt them in memory, as time pa.s.sed, and they found themselves amidst other surroundings. In the bellowing of the thunder they might start up in bed to again fancy themselves listening to the roar of the guns on both sides of the Marne; in imagination to see the valiant French as they splashed through the breast-high waters, seeking to reach the bank where the grim Germans held the fort, and poured such a merciless fire upon them.

So they crossed the river again, dryshod, and hastened to where they had secreted their precious motorcycles. According to Rod they would possibly be able to make the French capital before night had fully set in; but even though delayed on the road this could easily be accomplished on the morrow.

Then, after getting a little rest, they would strike out for Havre or Boulogne, and take pa.s.sage across on the first boat that could give them any sort of accommodations; for in the rush of American tourists to get home people were even willing to sleep in the steerage in order to quit the inhospitable sh.o.r.es of Europe in flames.

"Take your last look back, fellows," said Rod, after they had said good-bye to Andre and recovered their machines.

They stood on a slight eminence from which they could see the river and the French forces beyond. Apparently the council of war had been of brief duration, and must have settled on starting in pursuit of the fleeing German rearguard, for already the troops were in motion, with batteries hastening along the road taken by the enemy.

"Good luck to you all!" said Josh, waving his hat toward the Frenchmen, whom they had come to regard highly; "and here's wishing that when the end of the war comes it will bring glory to France; for her n.o.ble sons deserve everything that is good. And now, Rod, say the word, and we'll make our getaway from here."

"Then here goes!" called out the leader, as he straddled his machine and started his engine.

With a succession of popping reports he was off, Hanky Panky quickly following suit, and Josh bringing up the rear. Thus they started toward Paris, with high hopes of getting to the French capital before long, and then continuing their journey to the coast.

Whether they succeeded in escaping any more thrilling perils or not while in the country of the Great War does not concern us just now; all that can be left to another story at some future date. They had played a manly part in taking up the cause of the poor little woman in Antwerp, and believed they would never be sorry on account of having decided to search for Andre on the battle line before Paris.

THE END.