Earth-fleet was a slanting line of swiftness that swept downward
from the clouds. A swarm of craft was rising from below. The
red-striped fighters met the attack first with a cloud of gas.

The scarlet monster--the flagship of Torg, the Emperor--was in the
lead, and they shot with terrific speed across the bows of the
oncoming fleet to leave a whirlwind of deadly vapor as they passed.
McGuire held his breath in an agony of fear as the cloud enveloped the
line of ships, but their bow guns roared staccato crashes in the
thunder of their exhausts as they entered the cloud. And they were
firing from the stern as they emerged, while two falling cylinders of
red and white proved the effectiveness of their fire.

The formation held true as it swept upward and back where the swarming
enemy was waiting. They were outnumbered three to one, McGuire saw,
and his heart sang within him as he watched the sharp, speeding V that
climbed upward to the enemy's level then swung to throw itself like a
lance of light at the massed ships that awaited the attack.

Another cloud of gas!--and a shattered ship!--and again the line
emerged to correct its broken formation and drive once more toward the
circling swarm.

They came to meet them now, the clusters of red-striped fighting
ships, and they tore in from all sides upon the American line, their
hooked beaks gleaming in the sun.

* * * * *

And now, at an unseen signal, the formation broke. Each ship fought
for its life, and the stabbing flashes of their guns made ceaseless
jets of light against the smoke and gas clouds that were darkening the
sky.

"A dog-fight!" breathed Lieutenant McGuire; "and what a dog-fight!"
His words were lost in the terrific thunder from above: the roar of
the ships and the dull thuds of the guns engulfed them in a maelstrom
of noise that battered like physical blows on the watchers below. He
swore unconsciously and called down curses upon the enemy as he saw
two fighters meet while the shining beak of a ship of the reds crashed
through the body of an opposing craft.

The red ship dipped at the bow; it backed off with terrific force; and
from the curved beak a ship with the insignia of the red, white and
blue slid downward in a swift fall to the death that waited.

They had fought themselves clear, and the Americans, by what must have
been arrangement or wireless order, went roaring to the heights. There
were some who followe