u fail?"

"Quite well, sir," von Herzmann replied, smiling. "A little party in
front of a firing wall with myself as the center of attraction. Ah,
well! What matter. I have about played out my string of luck in the air.
Sooner or later, there must be an ending. I have a great fear that it
will be the luck of some cub, fresh at the front, to bring me down. Ha!
How he would swank around, boasting how he brought down the great von
Herzmann. Bah! Death, _Herr Hauptmann_, I do not fear in the least,
but I hate the thought of a cub boasting over my bones. Besides, there
are no new adventures left for me in the air. I am a little weary of it
all. But this--this is new adventure and--"

"And deadly dangerous," reminded the cadaverous, thin-faced officer at
the far end of the table.

"If not dangerous, it is not adventure, sir," von Herzmann replied. "Do
we not all enjoy the thing that presents some hazard? Youth lives it;
age thrills to the reports of it. If I fail, I fail. If I succeed, the
Fatherland is well served and I've another adventure in my kit. Perhaps
even another bit of iron to dangle on my coat, eh? Rawther jolly
prospect, what?" He again smiled at his own mimicry, as well he might,
for the accent was perfect. "But I won't fail, _Herr Hauptmann_."
He became serious as he drew some papers from the breast pocket of his
well tailored, though well worn, English uniform coat which bore the
marks of campaigning. "See," he said, tossing down a little black fold
which the English issued to officers for identification, "I am
Lieutenant Richard Larkin, R.F.C., known to his familiars as 'Buzz.'
The picture, you will notice, is my own, placed there after we had
carefully removed the one of the gentleman whose uniform and
identification card I am to make use of.

"This," he tossed another paper on the table, "is a pass to Paris,
properly indorsed, and giving authority for refueling and repairing, if
needed. Neat enough, eh? The date, unfortunately, was originally in
April, but our Intelligence section has some very clever penmen and you
will note that the date now appearing there is as of September the
twenty-sixth, and the period of the pass is for five days."

"The twenty-sixth!" exclaimed the _Oberst-leutnant_. "So soon! That
is the day after to-morrow."

"Yes. Our operative will cross the lines to-morrow evening, just before
sundown, in a two-seater Nieuport. He will land just back of Montfaucon,
and I will then re-c