moment Orris lost all sight of the fate of his partner. At last, in
trying by a desperate and perilous maneuver, to "get on the tail" of
his adversary by a side-loop in mid-flight, the Boche pilot, while
upside down, came for an instant fairly within range. Quickly Orris
took his advantage.

He was above and to the right of the German, and with a single whirl of
his Lewis gun brought it fully in line with the Boche's head as he sat
head down, strapped in his seat, while his machine was swiftly turning
in its side evolution so as to bring him in the rear of his enemy.

"Now!" gasped Orris, beginning his bullet spray. "Help me, Mars!"

A queer prayer, but it was quickly answered. The German machine
righted more slowly, however. Erwin dove swiftly down and came upright
in the rear of his now swaying adversary. Then the lad saw what fate
had done for him.

The German had collapsed in his seat, to which, as has been said, he
had strapped himself. His head lay on the rim, apparently a mass of
streaming crimson. His machine, a renovated Fokker, was tipsily
zigzagging along without any guidance except its stabilizer and its own
momentum.

To say the boy was half paralyzed at first is not too strong. But a
revulsion swept through him in a flood. At the same time there came to
his brain a vivid flash, reminding him that while thus desperately
engaged for his own life, he had heard sounds of aerial battling
somewhere in his rear.