squarely over a
line of French batteries.

"Now comes the really ticklish work of the night!" Reade shouted
back. "When we try for a landing we'll endeavor to make our own
crowd understand that, though this is a German machine, it comes
on no hostile errand. If we can't make the Frenchmen understand
that, then they'll blow us back into the sky as soon as we range
low enough!"

Guided by that instinct which is the aviator's best compass at
night, Reade steered toward the landing field.

Bang! came the report of a gun below, and a shell exploded dangerously
close to the aircraft. Tom switched on an electric light signal
beneath the craft to show that a friendly craft sought safe landing.
At the same time Dick leaned as far over as he could and waved
an arm slowly. Then just ahead a flare began on the ground, next
burned up brightly---a can of gasoline lighted and allowed to burn
to indicate the neighborhood in which to come down.

Going past and turning, Reade volplaned gracefully earthward,
landing just beyond the blazing gasoline.

Instantly they were surrounded by two-score French aviators and
mechanicians.

"It is all right!" the cry went up. "They are Americans, though
the machine is German."

M. le Commandant Perrault, chief of squadron, stepped rapidly
forward, receiving the salute of the two American officers and
asking questions at volley-fire speed. His face betrayed amazement,
but when the brief narrative had been finished he grasped the hands
of each.

"It was splendidly done," he declared.

"And now, sir, on behalf of my friend, may I ask how far we are
from the front line?" Tom inquired. "Captain Prescott wishes
to return to the trenches immediately."

"It is ten kilometers," replied the commandant. "Yet speed shall
not be impossible. Within five minutes I will have here a car
that will take Captain Prescott to the communication trenches,
and in that car will be a trench guide."

"And I'm going, too, Dick," Tom added, squeezing his chum's arm.
"We have a lot to talk over yet."

As the German airplane had been turned over to Commandant Perrault,
Reade had no further concern with that. He bounded into the motor
car when it arrived. Later the trench guide conducted them into
the front trenches, even to the section from which Prescott had
been taken. Major Wells was now, with Captain Holmes and Lieutenant
Terry, at a point about a third of a mile to the westward.

Thither Dick an