ard three thousand feet below, the Secretary of War for the United
States was on his way. And on either side from their plane stretched the
arms of a V. Like a flight of gigantic wild geese, fast fighting planes
of the Army air service bored steadily into the night, guarantors of
safe convoy.

"The Air Service is ready," General Lozier had said. And Thurston and
his pilot knew that from East coast to West, swift scout planes, whose
idling engines could roar into action at a moment's notice, stood
waiting; battle planes hidden in hangars would roll forth at the
word--the Navy was cooperating--and at San Diego there were strong naval
units, Army units, and Marine Corps.

"They don't know what we can do, what we have up our sleeve: they are
feeling us out," said the Secretary. They had stopped more than once for
gas and for wireless reports. He held a sheaf of typewritten briefs.

"Going slowly south. They have taken their time. Hours over San
Francisco and the bay district. Repeating same tactics; fall with
terrific speed to cushion against their blast of gas. Trying to draw us
out, provoke an attack, make us show our strength. Well, we shall beat
them to San Diego at this rate. We'll be there in a few hours."

* * * * *

The afternoon sun was dropping ahead of them when they sighted the
water. "Eckener Pass," the pilot told them, "where the Graf Zeppelin
came through. Wonder what these birds would think of a Zepp!

"There's the ocean," he added after a time. San Diego glistened against
the bare hills. "There's North Island--the Army field." He stared
intently ahead, then shouted: "And there they are! Look there!"

Over the city a cluster of meteors was falling. Dark underneath, their
tops shone like pure silver in the sun's slanting glare. They fell
toward the city, then buried themselves in a dense cloud of steam,
rebounding at once to the upper air, vapor trailing behind them.

The cloud billowed slowly. It struck the hills of the city, then lifted
and vanished.

"Land at once," requested the Secretary. A flash of silver countermanded
the order.

It hung there before them, a great gleaming globe, keeping always its
distance ahead. It was elongated at the base, Thurston observed. From
that base shot the familiar blast that turned steamy a hundred feet
below as it chilled the warm air. There were round orifices, like ports,
ranged around the top, where an occasional jet of vapor