been brought up, trained on the fliers and were being fired rapidly at
the receding airplanes.

Also the true nature of the situation aloft must have been divined.
Hence the extreme activity among the Germans, now trying desperately to
reverse the progress of events by bringing one or both machines down.
The fact that the life of one of their own comrades might be snuffed
out did not weigh with them at all. Such is the German militaristic
creed. The individual, his life, or welfare is as nothing when
compared with the welfare of the cause, the state, the whole brutal,
efficient system.

After all, this comrade might be dead now. They must get at and, if
possible, overtake these schwein at all cost. Were not they retreating
with a choice Prussian machine, that even now flaunted in derision the
Death's Head Flag?

No wonder the Boches were mad -- good mad!

But our Yankee adventurers were by no means at the end of their raid.
The sun was rising. With the rare promise of a clear day, considering
the time and the region, it was more evident than usual that a very
high altitude must be reached and maintained.

There were the German trenches to be passed, the trenches raided only a
few hours before, the No-Man's-Land, before the welcoming shelter of
friendly areas and support might be reached. At any rate, they could
see and signal other and also keep close together and be ready to
afford mutual support in case of meeting the foe. This last was soon
verified by the rise and approach of a small squadron of scout