s as if he
wanted to communicate with us."

The second aeroplane suddenly shot forward and upward at a much greater
rate of speed. John, still watching through his glasses, saw the man
release the steering rudder for an instant, snatch a rifle from the
floor of his plane, and fire directly at Lannes.

John uttered a shout of anger, and in action, too, he was as quick as a
flash. His automatic was out at once and he rained bullets upon the
treacherous machine. It was hard to take aim, firing from one flying
target, at another, but he saw the man flinch, turn suddenly, and then
go rocketing away at a sharp angle.

Blazing with wrath John watched him, now far out of range, and then
reloaded his automatic.

"Did you get him, John?" asked Lannes.

"I know one bullet found him, because I saw him shiver and shrink, but
it couldn't have been mortal, as he was able to fly away."

"I'm glad that you at least hit him, because he hit me."

"What!" exclaimed John. Then he looked at his comrade and saw to his
intense horror that black blood was flowing slowly down a face deadly
pale.

"His bullet went through my cap and then through my head," said Lannes.
"Oh, not through my skull, or I wouldn't be talking to you now. I think
it glanced off the bone, as I know it's gone out on the other side. But
I'm losing much blood, John, and I seem to be growing numb."

His voice trailed off in weakness and the _Arrow_ began to move in an
eccentric manner. John saw that Lannes' hand on the rudder was uncertain
and that he had been hard hit. He was aghast, first for his friend, to
whom he had become so strongly attached, and then for the _Arrow_, their
mission and himself. Lannes would soon become unconscious and he, no
flying man at all, would be left high in air with a terrible weight of
responsibility.

"We must change seats," said Lannes, struggling against the dimness that
was coming over his eyes and the weakness permeating his whole body. "Be
careful, Oh, be careful as you can, and then, in your American language,
a lot more. Slowly! Slowly! Yes, I can move alone. Drag yourself over
me, and I can slide under you. Careful! Careful!"

The _Arrow_ fluttered like a wounded bird, dropping, darting upward, and
careering to one side. John was sick to his soul, both physically and
mentally. His head became giddy and the wind roared in his ears, but the
exchange of seats was at last, successfully accomplished.

"Now," said Lannes, "yo