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Updated: September 26, 2025
Slim's a trifle heavy to get into either one of those hiding places." "Well, I'll cover the battery room," said Slim, ignoring Jerry's remark. "Let's see Lieutenant Mackinson, then," suggested Joe, and they went to find the young officer who was convalescing from his encounter with the spy. When he had approved the plan they got the O. K. of the captain.
And the lieutenant tapped off the Everett's own signal call with little more sound than is made by the sending of a message with the ordinary telegraph instrument. "We have a sending and receiving radius of from five hundred to eight hundred miles," Lieutenant Mackinson continued.
But it was slow progress at best, and made slower by the interruptions of the rockets. "We are almost there," Lieutenant Mackinson whispered, "but I think we have been discovered. Lie flat and don't make a move. By keeping my head in the position I have it I can watch that other group. If we have been seen it means a running fight to the mouth of that trench or cave."
There was but one desperate course open to them, and that Lieutenant Mackinson ordered at the instant the firing ceased. "Run!" he ordered, in a shrill whisper. "Run straight toward our own lines for about a quarter of a mile and then detour to the south." And off they started, each with all the speed he had in him.
"Ought to be aviators," the operator at headquarters came back at him on his own account, and then added: "Wait for orders." These came a few minutes later. "Divide as follows: Lieutenant and two men return here; other two go forward at safe distance with portable, and report to-night." Lieutenant Mackinson read them the message.
The letters were signed by the commandant of the Philadelphia Navy Yard. "Look at that," said Slim, pushing his letter at Lieutenant Mackinson, utterly forgetful of the fact that the other man was his superior officer. "Ain't isn't that fine, though? For the commandant to mention it that way, I mean."
And even in the thick of machine-gun fire and shrapnel, where Lieutenant Mackinson, Joe, Frank Hoskins and two or three others were laying a new line of communication, the wavering, swaying target was watched from time to time, and speculations made as to how long it could remain without being punctured by a bullet, thus forcing its two occupants to resort to their parachutes to make a landing.
It is one of the fortunes, or misfortunes, of war that a position gained one day, even at great human sacrifice, may be of no real or practical value whatever the next. So it was with the advance post of communication located by Lieutenant Mackinson and his party under such dangerous conditions during the night before.
"Can you get back over the same road with tractor?" was the next message that came, and Lieutenant Mackinson called for the more expert judgment of Frank Hoskins before answering. "We can try it," said Frank in a rather doubtful tone, "but it's risky business. It will be as much as we can do to follow the road, and we can't hope to see the ruts and bumps.
At the same time he gazed for the first time at what he had been holding tightly clutched in his right hand ever since the knockout blow had been delivered. The other three also were staring at it in open amazement. "What is it?" asked Joe, as the lieutenant crossed the room and took the thing from him for a closer examination. "What is it?" Lieutenant Mackinson repeated.
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