d been too easy after all. The Spitfires were twisting
upward, straight on to meet the seven diving Messerschmitts, any one of
which was near their match. Stan knew the boys at the controls of those
ships were good fliers.

Allison's ship rolled over suddenly and fell away, then hit a steep
spiral climb. For a few seconds it knifed along on its back. The
maneuver threw the seven fighters off for a moment, giving Stan time to
get more lift and more ceiling. Allison laid over in a vertical bank,
and, as he swung back his guns, cut a swath across the enemy craft. One
Messerschmitt went into a crazy whirl.

After that Stan was busy with his own end. He cut across the path of a
streaking fighter and sawed off his tail so neatly it seemed to have
vanished by itself. But the next second he had a brace of roaring guns
in his face and the hatch cover above his head shattered, showering him
with glass and pieces of metal. His engine did not falter as he stalled
and slid off after the Nazi, his Brownings ripping away. The fighter
dodged and twisted and got away, though it was plainly hit.

As he dived to shake off another red-hot gunner he saw Allison going
straight at another Messerschmitt, the only one in his field of vision.
He waited for the burst from Allison's guns that would send the Nazi
down, but it did not come and Allison thundered over the enemy ship,
taking a ripping hail of lead as he went.

"His guns are out," Stan groaned as he sent his ship over in a roll and
went down after the raider, who was banking to dive upon Allison's
defenseless tail. Stan's lightning drop carried him down just in time to
drive the Messerschmitt away from Allison. The crippled Spitfire ducked
into a cloud. Allison's voice came to Stan, mocking but with his old
drawl.

"Thanks, old man."

"Where's Garret?" Stan rasped back.

"I'm up here. Just finished off my second bandit."

"You don't say," Allison cut in. "Well, we're going in, boys, before we
meet all of Goering's gang. If they're all as active as those Messers we
just slipped away from, I don't care to tackle any more of them."

They settled into formation and dropped down upon London. The headset
began to sputter and a voice from the ground said.

"Red Flight, come in. Red Flight, are you all there?"

"All here," Allison called back cheerfully. He had recovered his
sardonic good humor.

They slid up the Thames and on over the city to their field. Sliding in,
Allison and