signal lights might draw dangerous attention, but Blaine had resolved
to risk the chances of that. Perhaps one of his comrades in distress
had deliberately courted death or imprisonment m order to let their
side know what was taking place. "Bully boy, whoever he is!" he
thought.

Briskly yet carefully working his machine, Lafe descended until, when
he flatted out, he could see through the fog the darker background of
war-torn earth.

"I'll flash our private signal," he resolved. "He may see it. So may
Fritz. But -- here goes!"

Lafe pressed with his foot upon a certain button that was connected
with an electric flashlight fastened in a special groove at a downward
angle of the fuselage or body of the car. At each pressure certain
flashes emitted the message of inquiry in private code.

"Where are you, pal? I'm coming. Let me know if you can."

Circling round at an even slightly lower level, he continued to signal
but without avail. Just as he was about to quit and rise higher again,
he detected a faint red and blue gleam that apparently ceased without
rime or reason. One faint glimmer succeeded, but died out as if
suddenly broken off.

Without waiting for more Blaine gave a searching look around but,
seeing nothing through the mist, gently, cautiously felt his way
downward, easing up in speed as best he could. The wheels jolted over
rough but level ground, until the nose of the plane shoved itself