his eyes trying to pick out the plane of his chum
among those that from time to time could be seen far distant, some
engaged with the enemy, while others were seeking to gain information of
value to the American commander.

When a whole hour had gone and there was still no sign of Jack, he
began to feel worried. Vainly he questioned some of the returning
pilots; for as the battle waned both above and below they were now
coming in by shoals, tired, yet full of enthusiasm over their recent
exploits.

From one Tom managed to secure the only tip that seemed of value; and it
was hardly encouraging.

"I am sure I saw Jack having a lively circus with several Boches about
an hour back," this man informed Tom. "Don't know how the jig ended,
because I found myself in a mix-up soon afterwards, and it kept my hands
full. But let's hope the boy came through O K. I saw you drop your man,
Tom; and it must have been a close shave for you in the bargain."

The man went on about his business, and Tom again took up his weary
watching and waiting. The minutes dragged by, but still no Jack, nor did
there come any further word of him. Finally, weary and discouraged, Tom
turned back toward his temporary quarters.

On arriving there, however, he found something that for the moment took
his mind off the uncertain fate of his chum.

CHAPTER III

JACK'S STRANGE FIND

"LETTERS!" exclaimed Tom, as he entered the building where he had his
headquarters. "One for me from home, and two for Jack," he went on, as
he hurriedly sorted the little pile.

"Nice!" was his next ejaculation, as he looked at the postmark on the
next letter he picked up. "Who is writing to me from Nice? I don't know
anybody in the south of France."

The next letter he picked up was also postmarked "Nice." This one was
addressed to Jack Parmly, was more than twice the thickness of the one
addressed to Tom, and was in the same girlish handwriting.

"Bessie Gleason!" This was Tom's third exclamation. Then he slit the
envelopes of his letters one after another and sat down to read his
mail.

While he is engaged in this apparently pleasing occupation, and at the
same time keeping an anxious eye out for the coming of his chum, Jack,
it might be just as well to explain a little further who these daring
young American air pilots were, and also tell something concerning their
previous exploits.

Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly had both been born in Virginia, and there