s, the
German infantrymen broke wildly for cover. Their less fortunate
comrades, the cannoneers and drivers of caissons and supply wagons,
stuck to their posts, trying to calm the rearing, plunging horses and
cursing the inexorable wasps that sent stinging death down on them.

Yancey, in particular, seemed to be in his glory. Half a dozen times he
swung around, gained a little altitude, and again went plowing down
along the road, his guns jumping and smoking in fiendish delight.

Harass the advancing enemy, eh? And the line of supplies? A job exactly
suited to Yancey's heart and spirit.

But McGee was wise in such matters, and having delivered a blow drew off
and sought other fields to conquer. It was not wise to stay long in any
one place.

He had expected Yancey to follow, but that worthy was too delighted with
his find, and when he tired of it at last it was to discover that he was
very much alone. Nothing could have suited him better. Now he was
answerable only to himself--and to Luck!

He began climbing, and casting an eye over the sky for balloons within
striking distance. After all, strafing infantrymen wasn't half as much
fun as knocking down balloons. They went up with such a glorious bang!
And it was delicious to watch the frightened observer tumble over the
side of the basket in an effort to escape by parachute. That last one
had somehow gotten fouled in the rigging and had been clawing
frantically when the bag exploded. As for that, Yancey had been sorry;
not for the man, but because he had wanted to see the parachute
_poof-op!_ into a suddenly blown white flower at which he might
take a few shots by way of testing his aim. Well, maybe he'd have better
luck with the next one.

With no thought of danger, and with his heart racing in a new
exhilaration which he had never before felt, Yancey started out alone on
a career that was to bring him a fame coveted by every man in the
squadron, but a fame which they did not care to gain by this most
hazardous of war sports--"balloon busting." Only men who cannot, or will
not weigh danger, become balloon busters. And of these was Yancey, the
"flying fool" of the squadron, concerning whom there was never any
agreement among the others as to whether he didn't know any better or
knew better and did it _because_ it was dangerous.

* * * * *

McGee, with Siddons, Porter and Fouche following, swung eastward toward
Dormans.