He stared around, and
peered above.

Was that a shadow?--a nightmare flying bird?--or a plane?

He grasped a hand-flash, and rapidly signalled his identity. The next
instant, it seemed, the shadow wavered, then fell earthward with great
speed.

Out of the gloom and rain it came--an enemy plane.

It dropped down beside his scout. From its cockpit came a few swift
flashes of light.

Hay!

* * * * *

Lance ran eagerly over to the other plane, and out from its enclosed
cabin stepped the man he had known as Praed.

Wordlessly, they gripped hands. Hay's thin, straight face wore a
smile, and he met Lance's eyes keenly. Lance stammered:

"S-sorry, Captain Hay, about--about the way I treated you at the base.
You see, I had no idea who you were."

Hay cut short his apologies with a laugh. "Rot! I'd've been the same
way myself." He glanced rapidly at Lance's plane. "Got it?" he
questioned. "I'm a bit late; had a hell of a time getting here without
arousing suspicion. We'd best hurry."

Lance nodded. They hurried to the Goshawk. As they worked, carefully
lifting out the Singe beacon, Lance, in crisp, short-clipped
sentences, told his companion of Ranth, the spy.

"You don't know how much he got through?"

"No," said Lance. "No."

"Hm-m. Well, we'll have to trust to luck."

"You know the working of the beacon?" Lance asked. On the other's nod
of affirmation he continued: "What's your plan?"

"Light about five miles this side of Frisco itself, just near the main
Slav military base. Anywhere in that territory would do, though. The
beacon doesn't go up in a narrow ray; it spreads, diffuses. The
squadron of torpedoes will cover some fifty or sixty miles of ground,
I believe. They'll utterly demolish the city, and every damned Slav in
it." His face, in the darkness, went grim and hard. "And it'll damn
well pay them back," he rasped, "for the horrible way they massacred
San Francisco's population...."

* * * * *

The Singe beacon was in his plane. Hay turned to Lance, stretching out
his hand for a farewell clasp. Then Lance asked the question that had
been worrying him.

"Colonel Douglas told me to give you a last handshake for him. _Last._
Why did he say that?"

"Because," Hay said smilingly, "I'm staying by the beacon to make sure
that nothing goes wrong. I guess that's why he said it, old
fellow...."

Lance gasped: "You're sacrificing your life?