s, Mr. Scott. We have no real
information to give. He might suspect that we are Germans and a lot of
time would be lost maneuvering. Suppose we remain in hiding, and say
nothing until Lannes himself appears."

"You still feel sure that he will come?"

"It's a conviction."

"Same way with me, and I agree with you that we'd better let our friend
in the Bleriot go by. He's descending fast now. The plane certainly does
look like a bird. Reminds me somewhat of a German Taube, though this
machine is much smaller."

"The pilot will take only a look or two at the flag. Then, if we don't
hail him, he'll sail swiftly back to the west."

"For good reasons too. The air here is chiefly in the German sphere of
influence, and if I were in his place I'd take to my heels too at a
single glance."

"That's what he's doing now. He's flying past the flag just as one of
the Germans did. He leans over to take a look at it, can't make out what
it means, glances back apprehensively toward the German quarter of the
heavens, and now he's sliding like a streak through the blue for French
air."

"So near and yet so far! A friend in the air just over our heads, and we
had to let him go. Well, he couldn't have done us any good."

"No, he couldn't, and he's gone back so fast that he's out of sight
already, but another and different inhabitant of the air is coming out
of the south. See, the shape off there, Mr. Scott. Wait until it comes
nearer, and I think I can tell you what it is. Now it's made out the
flag and is steering for it."

"What class of plane is it, Weber? Can you tell that yet?"

"Yes. It's an Esnault-Pelterie, an invention of a young Frenchman. It's
a monoplane with flexible, warped wings. It's made of steel tubes,
welded together, and it has two wheels, one behind the other for contact
with the ground."

"I noticed something queer in its appearance. It's the wheels. I don't
call this machine any great beauty, but it seems to cut the air well. I
suppose we'd better treat it as we did the Bleriot--let it go as it
came, none the worse and none the wiser?"

"I think so. But we have no other choice! That flyer is a suspicious
fellow and he isn't taking any chances. He's come fairly close to the
flag, and now he's sheering off at an angle."

"I don't blame him. He probably has something more important to do than
to unravel the meaning of a flag in a tree top."

"Nor I either. But whatever comes we'll wait for Lannes, always