* * * *

The next morning when the well-born members of the Ninety-fifth Squadron
of the Imperial German Air Service were making their final preparations
to ascend, a black speck appeared in the sky.

Captain Karl von Zeiglemann fixed the speck with his Zeiss glasses and
swore.

"That is an English machine," he said; "those Bavarian swine have let
him through. Take cover!"

The group in the aerodrome scattered.

The Archie fire grew more and more furious and the sky was flecked with
the smoke of bursting shell, but the little visitor came slowly and
inexorably onward. Then came three resounding crashes as the bombs
dropped. One got the corner of a hangar and demolished it. Another burst
into the open and did no damage, but the third fell plumb between two
machines waiting to go up and left them tangled and burning.

The German squadron-leader saw the machine bank over and saw, too,
something that was fluttering down slowly to the earth. He called his
orderly.

"There's a parachute falling outside Fritz. Go and get it."

He turned to his second in command.

"We shall find, Mueller, that this visitor is not wholly unconnected with
our dear friend von Mahl."

"I wish von Mahl had been under that bomb," grumbled his subordinate.
"Can't we do something to get rid of him, Herr Captain?"

Zeiglemann shook his head.

"I have suggested it and had a rap over the knuckles for my pains. The
fellow is getting us a very bad name."

Five minutes later his orderly came to the group of which Zeiglemann was
the center and handed him a small linen parachute and a weighted bag.
The squadron-leader was cutting the string which bound the mouth of the
bag when a shrill voice said:

"Herr Captain, do be careful; there might be a bomb."

There was a little chuckle of laughter from the group, and Zeiglemann
glowered at the speaker, a tall, unprepossessing youth whose face was
red with excitement.

"Herr von Mahl," he snapped with true Prussian ferocity, "the
air-services do not descend to such tricks nor do they shoot at burning
machines."

"Herr Captain," spluttered the youth, "I do what I think is my duty to
my Kaiser and my Fatherland."

He saluted religiously.

To this there was no reply, as he well knew, and Captain Zeiglemann
finished his work in silence. The bag was opened. He put in his hand and
took out a letter.

"I thought so," he said, looking at the address; "this is for you, von
M