ed from the fuselage, there was the rending crash of an explosion
and Tam dropped a little, swerved to the left and was out in clear
daylight in a second.

Back he streaked to the British lines, his wireless working frantically.

"Enemy raiding squadron in cloud--take the edge a quarter up."

He received the acknowledgment and brought his machine around to face
the lordly bulk of the cumulus.

Then the British Archies began their good work.

Shrapnel and high explosives burst in a storm about the cloud. Looking
down he saw fifty stabbing pencils of flame flickering from fifty A-A
guns. Every available piece of anti-aircraft artillery was turned upon
the fleecy mass.

As Tam circled he saw white specks rising swiftly from the direction of
the aerodrome and knew that the fighting squadron, full of fury, was on
its way up. It had come to be a tradition in the wing that Tam had the
right of initiating all attack, and it was a right of which he was
especially jealous. Now, with the great cloud disgorging its shadowy
guests, he gave a glance at his Lewis gun and drove straight for his
enemies. A bullet struck the fuselage and ricocheted past his ear;
another ripped a hole in the canvas of his wing. He looked up. High
above him, and evidently a fighting machine that had been hidden in the
upper banks of the cloud, was a stiffly built Fokker.

"Noo, lassie!" said Tam and nose-dived.

Something flashed past his tail, and Tam's machine rocked like a ship at
sea. He flattened out and climbed. The British Archies had ceased fire
and the fight was between machine and machine, for the squadron was now
in position. Tam saw Lasky die and glimpsed the flaming wreck of the
boy's machine as it fell, then he found himself attacked on two sides.
But he was the swifter climber--the faster mover. He shot impartially
left and right and below--there was nothing above him after the first
surprise. Then something went wrong with his engines--they missed,
started, missed again, went on--then stopped.

He had turned his head for home and begun his glide to earth.

He landed near a road by the side of which a Highland battalion was
resting and came to ground without mishap. He unstrapped himself and
descended from the fuselage slowly, stripped off his gloves and walked
to where the interested infantry were watching him.

"Where are ye gaun?" he asked, for Tam's besetting vice was an
unquenchable curiosity.

"To the trenches afore Masil