his ears. Undoubtedly some kind of battle must be going on. Was it
one result of the night raid? Was Fritz, now that his observation
points were at least temporarily out of active service, taking his
revenge by another drive? And where the Allies would least suspect?
That is, right over the Appincourte Bluff?

"What ought I do?" reflected Blaine, still gently climbing higher.
"It's a still night, foggy, good for most anything up here, except to
see or be seen and that's what I don't want. Wonder if poor Finzer had
his night signals along? Ah, here they are!"

He was overhauling with one hand a small locker that was part of the
fuselage Moreover, there were still two unused sheafs of ammunition
for the Lewis gun and a few grenades and bombs. Finzer had not
expended all his allotment in the balloon attack.

"Guess I'd better edge in towards where that drive seems to be
centering. That is the reason, probably, that this battery broke in
where I was on the point of going up again. Fritz is up to some new
thing, I'll bet."

Taking his bearings as best he could, Blaine headed more westward,
keeping at an elevation of six or seven thousand feet.

"Wonder what they'll think back at the station when they don't find me
among the ones that get back? Poor Milt! I lost my machine; he lost
his life. And there were others, too. That Montana chap Bangs. Last
I saw of him he was right under one of them sausages, letting Fritz
have it with the Lewis. Looked like something would get him -- heigho!
What is that?"