es came down to a level with McGee's flight, Red whipped
around and closed in on the pursuer. Too late! Flame came curling,
licking from the motor of the Nieuport. That second, for the first time,
McGee recognized it as Randolph Hampden's ship. Poor Hampden! The only
man in the squadron who ever had a good word for Siddons, and now he was
going down in flames while Siddons, supposedly his friend, was
high-tailing it for home.

With bitterest venom McGee thumbed his trigger releases as he caught a
fleeting glimpse of the Albatross in the ring sight. But that German was
not only courageous--he was a consummate flyer. He whipped around with
surprising speed and came streaming at McGee with both guns going. Head
on he came, and there was something about the desperation of the move
that told McGee that the battle-crazed fellow would actually ram him in
mid-air.

McGee dived. So close was the other upon him that he imagined he could
feel the wheels of the undercarriage on his own wings.

He Immelmanned, only to discover that by some brilliantly rapid
manoeuver the German had rolled into position and was rattling bullets
into the Camel's motor. Crack! One of the bullets struck a vital part
and the motor started limping. McGee's heart came into his mouth. He was
disabled and--

That moment Hank Porter and Fouche closed in on the German and Larkin
came diving down from above. Three against one! McGee, despite his own
predicament, felt like saluting the fellow's dare-devil courage. Larkin
could take care of him alone, even should Porter and Fouche fail.

Certain of the outcome of the now unequal struggle, McGee turned the
nose of his pounding plane in the direction of the lines near Mezy, and
prayed fervently that the failing motor would not conk completely before
he reached and crossed the river. He had no desire whatsoever to spend
the remainder of the war in a German prison. Even that, however, was
preferable to being sent down in flames, and he kept a sharp lookout for
any attack that might come from some keen-eyed German looking for "cold
meat."

Presently he noticed a shadow sweep across his plane. He glanced up
fearfully, and then smiled with delight. It was Larkin, following along
to give battle to any or all who might pounce upon his friend. McGee
felt a new surge of hope. Why had he even thought he would have to make
the trial alone? Larkin, who never deserted, who never failed in a
pinch, had disposed of that Ge