disabled. One of its queer wings was broken and fluttering, as the
little machine dropped, tumbling and twisting erratically, in an
inexplicably slow fashion toward the unseen ground. Smith glimpsed a
single figure, presumably strapped in the seat.

Then the focus changed to cover the other machine. It was of the
same type; and Smith saw that it was swooping in a steep spiral, its
driver leaning over in his seat, looking down.

Next moment the two were in focus together. Every second they
dropped closer and closer to Smith's borrowed eyes. And in less time
than it takes to tell it, they had come so close that when the
occupant of the disabled craft lurched heavily to one side, Smith
could plainly make out the long, flying hair of a woman.

She was unconscious, and strapped in!

Her craft capsized. At the same time the other driver--a
man--maneuvered so as to spiral exactly around the wreck as it fell.
When it came right side up again--now only a half a mile away--he
drove down so close that his machine nearly grazed the woman's head.
As he did so, he leaned over and tried to unfasten her. But the
unsteadiness of her craft prevented this.

He made a second try. This time his own machine narrowly escaped
injury; he steered it hastily away from that damaged wing. And then
he made a supreme effort.

Bringing his machine directly across the top of the other as it once
more righted itself, he touched one of his controls, so that his own