Tom?" panted Jack presently, as a shot was heard and something clipped a
twig from a bush within a foot of his hand.

"Take the left, and I'll look after the right!" snapped out Tom.

Both were armed with automatic pistols, for airmen can never tell when
their lives may depend upon their ability to defend themselves, and so
seldom make a flight without some such weapon in their possession.

"They're on the run!" cried Jack, in a tone of disgust; for he had really
hoped to have a further brush with the skulking enemy.

He sent several shots in their direction whenever he caught glimpses of
the bounding figures, but without much hope of striking either of them.
Still, they had undoubtedly accomplished the business in hand, which was
to save the Yankee pilot.

"He's over this way, Jack," observed Tom, moving to the right still
further, after being joined by his comrade. "I can see the opening where
he must have struck. The Hun flier didn't bother to follow him down and
find out if he'd made a count. He may have been here for some time."

"I see him now," continued Jack eagerly. "And it strikes me there's
something familiar about his looks. Yes, we've met that pilot before,
Tom. It's Lieutenant Colin Beverly, one of the cleverest Yankee aces of
the newer squad."

The aviator had already discovered the Air Service Boys' presence.
Doubtless all that had occurred had been noted by him as he sat, waiting
for anything that might happen; and the swoop of the American plane, as