panion, who rested his head against his shoulder for a moment,
and groaned faintly through his clenched teeth.

"That was magnificent, Laval!" whispered Dennis. "Where is the flask of
cognac? Here, drink this!"

"Thanks, my dear friend," murmured the wounded Frenchman. "Do not worry
about me. It is a question of what is wrong with the Aviatik. There is
just one hope for us. Look at the petrol tank. Oh, you can use a light,
for, remember we are Germans now if anyone comes along."

Torch in hand, Dennis examined the petrol tank carefully, and his voice
shook with renewed hope.

"The tank is untouched," he reported. "But there is only an inch of
spirit left at the bottom of it. That's the trouble. There is something
like a house yonder among the trees. What do you say?"

"There is only one thing to be said, my dear Blumberger," replied Laval,
with a faint smile. "We must commandeer petrol without delay. I find my
arm is not broken after all, but I am bleeding like a pig. It is running
into my boot. Help me out, and we will see what the good people over
there can do for us."

"Have you any idea where we are?" queried Dennis, as he assisted his
wounded companion to the ground with some difficulty.

"Somewhere in the Black Forest," replied Laval. "And unfortunately not
much more than ten miles, scarcely that, from the Zeppelin shed. They
will search for us, never fear; they are searching now! Moreover, it
will be daylight directly, and it is necessary that we hurry ourselves
if you want to keep your appointment."

CHAPTER XII

In the Hands of the Enemy

Some distance away, and seemingly on slightly higher ground, a light was
shining, and a second light moved with a curious jerky motion and then
disappeared.

The raiders knew that their safety depended on playing a tremendous game
of bluff, and that before the news of their adventure spread.

Already a faint grey veil was creeping over the darkness, and at the end
of several minutes they found themselves approaching a beech wood which
clothed the base of a high hill, and saw that the stationary light came
from a curious castellated building at the edge of the wood, where a
rustic bridge spanned a swift stream. There was no one about, and the
iron-bound door was open.

"Somebody's hunting-lodge," muttered Laval. "They have gone up the hill
to see what the explosion meant. That was a lantern we saw moving among
the trees."

"Well, it's nothing venture n