rts of the throng.

"Pardon, but you may not go farther," he said, courteously enough.
"There is danger. We are about to sound the alarm so that all may take
to shelter. The Boches are raiding Paris again."

"We know it," said Tom. "But it is no idle curiosity that takes us on."

"No?" politely questioned the policeman.

"No. I am seeking my father. He wrote to me that he would stop in the
Rue Lafayette, and I have not heard from him since. I was told that the
last shell fell in that street."

"It did," assented the officer, "and it demolished two houses and part
of another. Many were killed and injured."

"Then I must see if my father is among them!" insisted the young
aviator.

"Pardon, monsieur, it is not possible. I have my instructions, and--"

He stopped, and for the first time seemed to become aware of the
uniforms worn by Tom and Jack. Then the officer saluted as though proud
to do it.

"Ah," he murmured. "Of the Lafayette Escadrille! You may go where you
will. Only I hope it is not into danger," he said, as he drew aside for
them to pass. "Pardon, I did not at first sense who you were. France
owes you much, messieurs. Keep your lives save for her!"

"We will," promised Tom, as he hurried on, followed by Jack.

They came to the head of the street they sought, and, looking down it,
beheld ruins greater than they had seen before. As the officer had said,
two buildings had been completely demolished, and a third partly so, the
wreckage of all mingling. And amid these ruins police and soldiers were
working frantically to get out the injured and remove the dead, of whom
there was a sad number.

Tom's face was white, but he kept his nerve. He had been through too
many scenes of horror, had been too near death too often of late, as had
his chum, to falter now, even though his father might be among those
buried in the wreckage caused by the German shell.

"Do you know what number your father was to stop at?" asked Jack.

"Yes, I have his letter," Tom answered. "I'm afraid, Jack, it was in one
of those buildings that have been blown apart."

"No, Tom!"

"I'm afraid so. But, even at that, he may have had a chance for his
life. He may have been out, or, after all, he may not have arrived yet.
I'm not going to give up hope until I have to."

"That's the way to talk, old man. I'm with you to the last."

They pressed on, and populace and officers alike gave way before them as
they saw the uniforms.

"W