ceful farmhouse behind them, and
commenced retracing their steps. Tom was too old a hand at hunting to
get lost. He had kept his bearings through the whole tramp, no matter
how many turns they took in examining some promising ground where rabbit
burrows might be found. On this account then he would have no difficulty
whatever in leading his comrade straight back to the villa in which the
entire Lafayette Escadrille of American fliers was quartered.

They were passing along about half a mile from the wrecked farmhouse
kitchen, and not far from the spot where Tom made his successful shot,
when without warning the report of a gun came to their ears. Jack
involuntarily ducked his head.

"Say, did you hear that whining sound just over us, Tom? That was caused
by a bullet skipping past!"

Tom for answer dragged his chum down behind a fringe of dead bushes that
chanced to lie close by.

"It was a bullet, all right, Jack," he replied, not without a tremor in
his voice, for this thing of being made a target by some murderous
unseen person was a new and novel experience.

"Do you suppose it was fired by the man who owns these pigeons?" further
questioned Jack, though showing no intention of loosening his grip on
the wicker cage.

"It could hardly be any one else. He has dogged us this far, or else
just happened to catch sight of us. That shot was fired from a distance,
and if we take a notion to run he couldn't possibly hit us. But we might
as well make use of this fringe of bushes to creep some way off. Then
we'll get on our feet and put out for home at full speed."

This they proceeded to do without further delay. When it was no longer
possible to utilize the bushes for cover, they sprang to their feet and
ran. Jack fully anticipated hearing other shots--yes, and perhaps having
more leaden missiles singing their vicious songs about his head. But he
was agreeably disappointed in his expectations, for not a report came.

Evidently the spy had gone away, thinking discretion the better part of
valor. He may have noticed that they were in uniform, and armed in the
bargain.

Later on the air service boys moderated their mad pace, and as there
seemed to be no further signs of danger they finally fell into a walk.
Still neither of them lagged, but kept up a brisk pace, Jack casting
numerous apprehensive glances over his shoulder, haunted by a lingering
suspicion that the spy might yet give them trouble.

They came through s