ace the defects of machines still current. And back among the trees
was a second Asiatic aeroplane....

The kitten caressed Bert's airship boots unheeded.

"Mend dat drachenflieger," said the Prince.

"If I do mend it," said Bert, struck by a new thought, "none of us ain't
to be trusted to fly it."

"_I_ vill fly it," said the Prince.

"Very likely break your neck," said Bert, after a pause.

The Prince did not understand him and disregarded what he said. He
pointed his gloved finger to the machine and turned to the bird-faced
officer with some remark in German. The officer answered and the Prince
responded with a sweeping gesture towards the sky. Then he spoke--it
seemed eloquently. Bert watched him and guessed his meaning. "Much more
likely to break your neck," he said. "'Owever. 'Ere goes."

He began to pry about the saddle and engine of the drachenflieger in
search for tools. Also he wanted some black oily stuff for his hands and
face. For the first rule in the art of repairing, as it was known to the
firm of Grubb and Smallways, was to get your hands and face thoroughly
and conclusively blackened. Also he took off his jacket and waistcoat
and put his cap carefully to the back of his head in order to facilitate
scratching.

The Prince and the officer seemed disposed to watch him, but he
succeeded in making it clear to them that this would inconvenience him
and that he had to "puzzle out a bit" before he could get to work. They
thought him over, but his shop experience had given him something of the
authoritative way of the expert with common men. And at last they
went away. Thereupon he went straight to the second aeroplane, got the
aeronaut's gun and ammunition and hid them in a clump of nettles close
at hand. "That's all right," said Bert, and then proceeded to a careful
inspection of the debris of the wings in the trees. Then he went back
to the first aeroplane to compare the two. The Bun Hill method was quite
possibly practicable if there was nothing hopeless or incomprehensible
in the engine.

The Germans returned presently to find him already generously smutty and
touching and testing knobs and screws and levers with an expression of
profound sagacity. When the bird-faced officer addressed a remark to
him, he waved him aside with, "Nong comprong. Shut it! It's no good."

Then he had an idea. "Dead chap back there wants burying," he said,
jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

7

With the appearance