anspiring from the bleeding
vapors of dawn.

"Looks like business, sir!" exclaimed the Celt, his jaw hard.

"Business, yes."

"Bad business for us, eh?"

"It might be, if we had only the usual means of defense. Under
ordinary circumstances, our only game would be to turn tail and run
for it, or cut away far to the south--or else break out a white flag
and surrender. But--"

"That must be the Azores air-fleet," judged Bohannan. "The others
couldn't have made so much westing, in this time. Faith, what a
buzzing swarm of mosquitoes! I had no idea there were that many planes
on the Azores International Air Board station!"

"There are many things you have no idea of, Major," replied the
Master, sharply. "That, however, is immaterial. Yes, here come the
fringes of attack, all right enough. I estimate forty or fifty in
sight, already; and there must be a few hundred back of those, between
here and land, north and south. Technically, we're pirates, you know."

"Pirates?" demanded the major, lowering his glass.

The Master nodded.

"Yes," he answered. "That's what the wireless tells us. We'll get
short shrift if--my apparatus fails."

"How do they make us out pirates?" Bohannan ejaculated. It was not
fear that looked from his blue eyes, but a vast astonishment. His
ruddy face, amazed under the now strengthening light of day, brought a
smile to the Master's lips.

"What else are we, my dear fellow?" the Master queried. "To seize a
ship--a water-ship or one of the air matters nothing--and to overpower
the crew, kill or wound a few, throw them outboard and sail away,
comes pretty near constituting piracy. Of course the air-rules and
laws aren't wholly settled yet; but we're in a fair way of giving the
big-wigs a whacking precedent to govern the future. I fancy a good
many cases will be judged as _per_ the outcome of this expedition.

"We're pirates all right--if they catch us. And they _will_ catch
us if they get within gunshot. The next few minutes will settle that
question of whether they're going to, or not!"

"Nice, comforting prospect!" muttered the Celt. "What do they do
with pirates, anyhow, these days? They can't hang us at the yard-arm,
because airships don't have 'em. Of course they might stage a
hanging-bee with this Legion dangling from the wings, but that would
be pretty hard to manage. It'll be shooting, eh?"

"Probably, if my neutralizer fails."

"You're cheerful about it! The neutralizer may be a