CHAPTER I

BATTLESHIP BOYS TO THE RESCUE

"This is the famous Bois de Boulogne Sam."

"The what?"

"Bois de Boulogne, one of the most popular drives in Paris."

"Huh!" grunted Sam Hickey. "That sounds to me like some kind of sausage. What do they ever name their streets that way for in Paris?"

"All the names in this great, gay city mean something," answered Dan Davis. "This park here bears the same name. It was infested by desperate robbers as far back as the fourteenth century."

"Robbers!" exclaimed the red-haired boy.

"Yes."

"Are they here yet?"

"No; Napoleon cleaned them out. We shall soon be out by the Arch. The Frenchmen call it Arc de Triomphe."

"They do?"

"Yes."

"Just like that?"

"Of course."

"I'll bet there isn't a Frenchman in France who would know what you were talking about if they heard you call it by that name. I don't know anything about French, but if that is French give me plain United States. You are sure there are no robbers left in the Bologna sausage?"

"Bois de Boulogne, Sam," corrected Dan. "No; there are no robbers here. You need not be afraid."

"Afraid! What do you take me for, Dan Davis. I——"

"Hark!"

"Nothing of the sort. I'm no coward. I, a sailor in Uncle Sam's Navy, and afraid of robbers? Pooh!"

"Listen! Did you hear that, Sam?"

"Hear what? No; I didn't hear anything. But—wow! What's that?"

Hickey gave a sudden startled jump.

"It's a woman's scream," breathed Dan, listening intently. "Did you hear it?"

"I—I should say I did. Yes, and there it goes again. She's some sort of foreigner. I wonder what is going on?"

The scream was repeated. Though the lads were unable to understand what the voice was saying, it was evident that the woman, whoever or whatever she might be, was in dire distress.

"Where is it—where is it?" demanded Sam, now very much excited.

"The sound came from off yonder, where the trees are thickest."

"I see nothing."

"I do," answered Dan. "See, yonder is a carriage. Come on! There's a woman in trouble. What is it?" shouted the boy, raising his voice.

"Help! Help!" came the answer in plain English.

"It's one of our own countrywomen—our own United States. We're coming, madam!"

Dan was off with a bound, followed a few paces behind by his red-haired friend, Sam Hickey.

As they ran they made out a coupé that had been drawn up beside the road. One man was holding the horses by the heads, while a group of others were standing by the door of the carriage.

"What's going on there?" demanded Dan.

"I—I guess Napoleon didn't chase all the robbers out," stammered Hickey in a doubtful tone.

"They are robbers and they're robbing two lone women," exclaimed Dan.

"I guess we're Johnnie-on-the-spot, then," answered Sam. "Me for the party holding the horses. He looks kind of weak like."

Two women, attired in evening gowns, were standing beside their carriage, which, at a glance, was seen to be an elegant private equipage. The men surrounding the women wore small, black caps with the visors pulled down over their eyes, and long, flowing handkerchiefs about their necks.

As the lads drew near they saw two of the men strip the handkerchiefs from their necks, quickly twisting the cloths about the necks of the women. The cries of the latter were stilled almost instantly.

"Break away, you villains!" roared Dan Davis.

"Yes; chase yourselves or you'll get your faces slapped," added Sam. "Vamoose! Allez vous—scat!"

"We're coming, ladies! Charge them, Sam! They're thugs! Look out for yourself!"

"I've got one of them!" yelled Sam Hickey triumphantly.

In passing the horses he had sheered close to the fellow who was holding them, hitting the man a blow on the jaw that tumbled him over in a heap. The man did not rise, but Sam was too excited to notice the fact.

"Whoop!" he howled, making a rush and coming up by his companion. "We're the wild men from the land of the cowboy!"

The boys swept down on the robbers, the formers' fists working like the piston rods of a locomotive.

The ruffians turned on them instantly.

"Quick! Into your carriage!" called Dan. He had neither the time nor opportunity to assist the ladies in doing so. Both boys were now altogether too busy to give further heed to the frightened women.

Smashing right and left, they fell upon the robbers.

Bang!

A bullet whistled close to the head of Sam Hickey. The latter made a dive for the man who had fired the shot, and ere the fellow could pull the trigger for another shot, Hickey's fist had struck him on the jaw, laying the fellow flat on his back.

"Whoop!" howled the boy. "That's the way we do the thing in the good old United States."

Dan was having a lively battle with two men, each of whom held a knife in his hand and was making quick thrusts at the lad, who was quickly diving in and out.

All at once Dan's foot came up. It caught one of the men on the wrist of his knife hand. The fellow uttered a yell and his knife went soaring up into the air. Dan tried to serve the other assailant in the same way, but instead of reaching the man's wrist, the kick caught the fellow in the stomach. This answered quite as well. With a groan the robber fell down heavily.

"Lay in! We've got them!" yelled Davis.

"I am laying in," answered Sam. "Lay—lay in yourself. Whoop! That was a beauty. I spun him like a top. He's spinning yet! Watch him, Dan!"

Dan knew better than to turn his head. Three desperate men were now seeking to surround and put an end to his fighting abilities. Dan found them more difficult to handle than he had those others who had gone down under his sturdy blows.

In the meantime the women had sprung into their carriage, and the driver, whipping up his horses, had started away.

Attracted by the uproar, a squad of gendarmes were bearing down on the scene on the run.

"Robbers!" yelled the driver in French as he swept past the officers of the law.

"Where?"

The driver pointed with his whip toward the trees under which the battle was being waged.

"The police!" yelled one of the robbers, catching a glimpse of the gendarmes, as the latter ran into the light of a street lamp.

Instantly every man of the robbers plunged into the bushes and disappeared, those who had been knocked down by the two brave lads having gotten to their feet just in time to get away.

"Follow them!" cried Dan. "We'll capture a couple of them, anyway."

Sam caught a foot on the curbing and fell headlong. His companion hesitated for one brief instant. Both lads thought they had put the robbers to flight. They did not know that the desperate men had seen the police coming, for the cry of "police" had been uttered in French.

"Look out! Here they are again!" warned Dan. "Sail in, Sam! They've surrounded us."

Sam was up like a flash. They were now well off the road. The spot was dark and the boys did not know that it was the police who had come upon and surprised them.

Dan Davis laid low the first gendarme just as the man placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam gave the next officer a good stiff punch that must have made the man's head swim, for it sent him staggering away.

Hickey uttered a yell of triumph. His fighting blood was up. He went at them with a rush, punching with both hands, nearly every blow taking effect.

All at once Dan Davis made a discovery.

He caught the glint of a brass button.

"Cease firing!" he roared.

"Not on your life! Not till I've licked this heathen——"

"Sam! Sam! Stop! It's the police we are fighting! Stop, I tell you!"

Hickey's ready fists dropped to his sides. He stepped back, half inclined to run.

"Well, well! What do you think of that?" he growled.

Dan, too, had stopped fighting the instant he made the discovery that it was the police whom they had assaulted. He sprang back, gazing almost in awe at the rest of the squad of gendarmes who were bearing down upon them.

"This is the time we have put our foot in it. Gentlemen, I beg——"

He did not finish the sentence.

A blow from one of the gendarmes laid him flat on the ground. At the same instant three men jumped on Sam Hickey. They took him so utterly unawares that he had not made the slightest resistance.

"Get away, you fools! Don't you know——"

Hickey's breath was fairly knocked out of him. He was at the bottom of the pile, unconscious almost the next second.

The Battleship Boys had gone down fighting valiantly, the lads whom the readers of this series now know so well. They were the same boys who, in "The Battleship Boys at Sea," enlisted in the United States Navy, serving their apprenticeship at the Training Station in Newport. It was there that they proved by their faithful attention to duty, their courage and fitness to serve the Flag of their country. Then, on board the battleship "Long Island," it will be recalled how Dan Davis whipped the bully of the ship in a fair stand-up battle; how Hickey was punished for an offence for which he was not wholly to blame, being confined to the brig on rations of bread and water; and how finally both lads proved themselves by their heroic rescue of a drowning diver. The latter was the man who had been responsible for all their trouble on shipboard. For their bravery in facing almost certain death the boys were rewarded by a grateful government in the bestowal of that much-coveted decoration, the medal of honor.

Again, in "The Battleship Boys' First Step Upward," the reader will remember Sam Hickey's having sighted a "shooting star," while on lookout duty, and that the shooting star was a rocket signal of distress from a sinking schooner. It will be recalled how Dan Davis was left alone on the doomed ship; how the battleship turned its big guns on the schooner, shooting the decks from beneath his feet, and how, in the end, the plucky lad saved the schooner and its cargo. Dan's heroic effort in saving a boat load of men from almost certain destruction by a rushing torpedo, and his winning of a promotion to the grade of petty officer will also still be fresh in the reader's mind.

And now the boys were on their first foreign cruise. The battleship "Long Island" had come to anchor off Boulogne, France. The Battleship Boys had asked for a shore leave of one week, which was readily granted to them. In that time they had planned to visit Paris and London, which they would have ample time to do, and rejoin their ship before their leave of absence expired.

They had arrived in Paris that morning, after an all-night ride on one of the fastest express trains in France, but which Sam Hickey had referred to under the undignified title of "milk train."

After considerable difficulty they had secured lodgings at a pension, as the boarding houses in France are called, and had at once started out to see the city. This they did with the aid of a map. They were self-reliant boys, and the thought of getting lost did not trouble them at all.

During the afternoon they had wandered off along the fashionable avenue, the Bois de Boulogne, and into the beautiful park of the same name, where they lingered until nearly night. Hunger alone brought them to a realization that it was time they sought their lodgings. So anxious were they to see Paris, that they had forgotten all about breakfast, and, when noon arrived, they saw no place where they could procure food.

They were on their way back when they met with the adventure that now promised to involve them in serious difficulty. They had assaulted a body of men who were police officers of the republic of France.

The gendarmes had not seen the robbers. They had seen only Dan Davis and Sam Hickey, who now presented a most disreputable appearance. The boys had lost their caps bearing the name of their ship, their blouses were torn and covered with dirt, while Dan's shirt was ripped in several places where the knives of the desperate men had made great rents in it, his trousers were torn, and his face bruised where he had been struck by one of the robbers. Hickey was in a similar condition.

The gendarmes were chattering loudly, accompanying their words with wild gestures.

Making sure that their prisoners were wholly overpowered, they quickly secured them, one of the number in the meantime having sent in a call for a patrol wagon. Soon the auto wagon came puffing up and backed down to the curb.

Quite a crowd had gathered, attracted to the scene by the uproar.

"What is it?" questioned one after another.

"Apaches!" answered the officer in charge.

A growl of rage ran over the gathering. There is no criminal in Paris so dreaded or so hated as the one who belongs to the so-called "Apaches." These men have but two aims in life—to rob and kill. It is nothing to them who the victim may be, or how innocent. They are infinitely worse than the worst red Indian of the past.

The Apaches are found everywhere in Paris, and woe to the stranger in the gay city who happens to stroll out alone at night, for the Apache will track him to the death if he chances to strike the stranger's trail.

It was this desperate band of criminals to which Dan Davis and Sam Hickey were supposed by the police to belong. On the contrary, the Battleship Boys had met and practically whipped a band of Apaches single handed and without weapons. It was an achievement to be proud of, had they known it, but at that moment neither lad was in a condition to realize anything.

Searching the clothes of their prisoners for weapons, and finding none, the gendarmes picked Dan up by the head and heels, hurling him into the patrol. Next came Hickey. He was thrown in on top of his companion.

Half a dozen officers piled into the wagon and sat down on their prisoners. At that moment the patrol started away with the two boys, moving over the smooth pavements of the French capital almost without a jar.

CHAPTER II

A SERIOUS CHARGE

By the time the patrol reached headquarters the Battleship Boys had recovered consciousness. They were half-smothered, lying on their faces as they were.

Sam began to fight and kick.

"Get off my neck!" he howled, in a muffled voice. "Get off, or I'll pass you a punch when I get out of this!"

"Keep quiet, Sam," advised Dan. "They will use you roughly if you don't."

"Keep quiet, nothing! I'll show them they can't use an officer in Uncle Sam's Navy this way."

His further remarks were lost, for the man who was sitting on Hickey's neck moved over, throwing his weight on the lad's head.

Soon after that the wagon drove up before the dingy headquarters. The prisoners were jerked from the wagon rather than lifted out, and were dragged into the building, up a pair of stone steps and along a dimly lighted corridor.

Arriving in front of a grated door, the policemen in charge of the boys waited until an attendant had unlocked and opened it, whereupon they threw the Battleship Boys inside.

The door shut with a loud clang, and the gendarmes marched away, down the corridor without a word to their prisoners.

For a moment the boys lay where they had been thrown. Then Dan sprang to his feet, and, going to the door, peered out into the corridor. All he could see was a brick wall in front of him.

Sam sat up, rubbing his red head reflectively.

"I wonder where we are?" muttered Dan.

"Where we are?" repeated Sam.

"Yes."

"Don't you know?"

"I do not."

"I know."

"Where are we?"

"We're in the brig again."

"In the brig? Why, we are in Paris. Have you forgotten? I guess your shaking up must have resulted in a loss of memory."

"I have forgotten nothing. I'll never forget the wallop I got. Say, Dan, do you know what they hit me with?"

"No, that is what I have been trying to decide in my own case."

For a few minutes there was silence.

"This is a nice mess—a fine mix-up!"

"Yes," agreed Dan Davis. "I fear we have gotten ourselves into a lot of trouble. We have assaulted the Paris police. I wonder what the captain of the 'Long Island' will say when he hears of it?"

"If it's left for us to tell him it will be a long, long time before he hears anything about it."

"Don't be foolish. We will tell the police the truth and they will have to let us go; but the question is, when are we going to be allowed to tell the truth? It doesn't look as if we were even going to be questioned to-night."

For full two hours the boys sat on the hard stone floor, discussing their predicament, trying to plan some way of extricating themselves from their present unfortunate position. No conclusion was reached. All they could now do was to wait and trust to luck.

"Well, I'm going to bed," announced Sam Hickey.

"Where?"

"Right here on the floor. It isn't much of a hammock, but I'm going to pipe myself down just the same. I wish I were back on the battleship. Don't you, Dan?"

"Yes, I do. Good night, Sam."

"Good night."

Sam rolled over on his back, using his arms for a pillow, and was soon snoring loudly. This made Dan feel sleepy, and he, too, shortly toppled over sound asleep.

How long they had lain thus they did not know. Sam suddenly awakened. Some one had hold of one of his feet and was dragging him across the cell.

"Leggo my foot!" yelled the red-headed boy, struggling to get up.

Dan, hearing the commotion, bounded to his feet. He was quickly seized and jerked out into the corridor, where he was soon joined by Sam. Then they discovered that they were in the hands of officers, though not the same ones who had arrested them.

Neither of the officers said a word, but, taking firm hold of the arms of their prisoners, marched them rapidly down the corridor.

"I guess they must be going to hang us," said Hickey.

"They don't hang people over here," answered Dan.

"They don't?"

"No."

"What do they do with them?"

"Guillotine them."

"What's that?"

"In other words, they cut your head off here in France," answered Dan, with a short laugh.

"Wow!" exclaimed Sam with such vehemence that the officers in charge of him gave him a violent shake, uttering some rapid commands in his own language.

"I guess we'd better not stir up the animals any more," said Sam, with a wink at his companion.

"No. And be careful what you say. Do not volunteer any information. It will perhaps be better for me to answer the questions, unless they question you directly."

The officers conducted the lads into a sort of reception room, where they stood holding tightly to their prisoners until a door was opened at the far end of the room and another man in uniform beckoned them to enter. The officers did so, thrusting their prisoners into the room ahead of them.

Unlike the outer room, this one was brilliantly lighted; so much so that the boys blinked vigorously for a few seconds. Then, becoming used to the light, they began to take stock of their surroundings.

The first thing that caught their attention was a keen-faced man sitting behind a flat desk, industriously twirling his moustache as he surveyed them keenly from beneath half-closed eyelids.

The boys gazed at him intently. There was no quailing on their part, though had they realized what a questionable looking pair they were, they might have lost some of their assurance.

The officer behind the desk addressed them in French.

"We do not speak your language, sir," spoke up Dan.

"Ah, so I perceive," answered the man in very good English. "You are English?"

"Not much. We're Yankees," Sam blurted out with considerable emphasis. "And you'd better not monkey with us unless you want the United States Government to get you by the collar and jerk you seven different ways at the same time."

"Be silent!" thundered the officer.

"I'm mum," answered Sam, with a sheepish grin.

"What is your name?"

"Sam Hickey, sir."

"And yours?" glancing at Dan.

"Daniel Davis."

"Residence of both?"

"United States of America," answered the boys with one voice.

A clerk was noting down their replies.

"May I ask, sir, why we are thus detained? We have done no wrong."

"Stop! I will ask all the questions here. What is your business, if you have any?"

"We are sailors on the U. S. S. 'Long Island.'"

"Sailors, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"If this be true, where are your uniforms?"

"We are wearing what is left of them, sir."

The officer glanced at the trousers of the lads and observed that they were such as were worn by sailors.

"A very excellent disguise."

"Disguise!" exclaimed Sam with explosive force. "What are you talking about?"