pursuer, but Tom kept after him as if grimly determined to
bring one of the night-bombers down, even if he had to follow the other
to his own line.

That sort of excitement was meat and drink to those daring fellows, who
lived in anticipation of engaging in just such combats. Tame indeed did
that day seem to them upon which they could not exchange shots with at
least one enemy pilot.

Some one had met with disaster over to the left, for Tom saw a flash of
descending flame and had a vague view of a figure jumping hopelessly
from the doomed plane, having found means to cut loose from his safety
belt. It was only "jumping from the frying pan into the fire," however,
for death in another form awaited him, the ground being a quarter of a
mile below.

At one moment it happened that both boys were firing together, the
position of the Yankee plane allowing this unusual demonstration. And as
to which of them was responsible for the bullet that sent the Boche
downward in erratic circles, like a wounded duck, he trying desperately
to gain an even keel before it was too late, was always fated to be a
little bone of contention between Tom and Jack.

CHAPTER X

A SURPRISE FOR JACK

THE two Air Service boys followed the enemy down with a risky nose-dive,
determined to make sure that he did not get away; and so were able to
see him strike amidst the upper branches of the trees with a horrible
crash. They themselves had a close call, and only for Tom's clever
handling of his machine might have shared the fate of their victim.

Marking the spot as best they could in the darkness of the night, the
boys again started upward, in the hope that there might still be other
work for them to do.

"Too late!" called out Jack. "The Boche has had a stomachful and is
beating it for home like all get-out. He's lost two planes and pilots,
which is a heap more'n he counted on giving up for the fun of bombing
our hangars. Shall we call it off and go in, Tom?"

Indeed, there was nothing else for them to do. The enemy had been forced
to run before he could have dropped more than half of his stock of
destructive bombs.

Back to the hut went the three boys. Harry was limping, a fact Tom
noticed for the first time.

"Look here, did you run up against a Boche bullet while you were chasing
around up there, Harry?" he asked solicitously.

"Not quite so bad as that, I'm glad to tell you," came the reply, as
Harry stooped to rub the calf of