oung
Frenchman gayly, "and now, _au revoir_, I depart for my uniform and
arms, which must be of the best."

John smiled as he walked down the hill. His heart had warmed toward the
little Apache who might not be any Apache at all. Nevertheless the name
Geronimo seemed to suit him, and he meant to think of him by it until
his valor won him a better.

He saw from the slopes the same endless stream of people leaving Paris.
They knew that the Germans were near, and report brought them yet
nearer. The tale of the monster guns had traveled fast, and the shells
might be falling among them at any moment. Aeroplanes dotted the skies,
but they paid little attention to them. They still thought of war under
the old conditions, and to the great mass of the people flying machines
were mere toys.

But John knew better. Those journeys of his with Lannes through the
heavens and their battles in the air for their lives were unforgettable.
Stopping on the last slope of Montmartre he studied space with his
glasses. He was sure that he saw captive balloons on the horizon where
the German army lay, and one shape larger than the rest looked like a
Zeppelin, but he did not believe those monsters had come so far to the
south and west. They must have an available base.

His heart suddenly increased its beat. He saw a darting figure and he
recognized the shape of the German Taube. Then something black shot
downward from it, and there was a crash in the streets of Paris,
followed by terrible cries.

He knew what had happened. He caught another glimpse of the Taube
rushing away like a huge carnivorous bird that had already seized its
prey, and then he ran swiftly down the street. The bomb had burst in a
swarm of fugitives and a woman was killed. Several people were wounded,
and a panic had threatened, but the soldiers had restored order already
and ambulances soon took the wounded to hospitals.

John went on, shocked to the core. It was a new kind of war. The flying
men might rain death from the air upon a helpless city, but their
victims were more likely to be women and children than armed men. For
the first time the clean blue sky became a sinister blanket from which
dropped destruction.

The confusion created by the bomb soon disappeared. The multitude of
Parisians still poured from the city, and long lines of soldiers took
their place. John wondered what the French commanders would do. Surely
theirs was a desperate problem. Would they t