The Battleship Boys in Foreign Service; or, Earning New Ratings in European Seas

"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!"