d like an autumn leaf in the
vortex that the enemy created. Not a second was lost as Blake opened
his throttle and forced his plane into a steep climb.

"Atta-boy!" said McGuire, as if words could span across to the man in
the plane. "Altitude, Blake--get altitude!"

The meteor had turned in a tremendous circle; so swift its motion that
it made an actual line of light as the moon marked its course. And the
curved line straightened abruptly to a flashing mark that shot
straight toward the struggling plane.

* * * * *

This time another sound came down to the listening ears of the two
men. The plane tore head on to meet the onslaught, to swing at the
last instant in a frantic leap that ended as before in the maelstrom
of air back of the ship. But the muffled roar was changed, punctured
with a machine-gun's familiar rattle, and the stabbing flashes from
Blake's ship before he threw it out of the other's path were a song of
joy to the tense nerves of the men down below.

This deadly rush could only be construed as an attack, and Blake was
fighting back. The very speed of the great projectile must hold it to
its course; the faster it went the more difficult to swerve it from a
line. This and much more was flashing sharply in McGuire's mind.
But--Blake!--alone against this huge antagonist!... It was coming
back. Another rush like a star through space....

And McGuire shouted aloud in a frenzy of emotion as a cluster of
lights came falling from on high. No lone machine gun now that tore
the air with this clattering bedlam of shots: the planes of the 91st
Squadron were diving from the heights. They came on a steep slant
that seemed marking them for crashing death against the huge cylinder
flashing past. And their stabbing needles of machine-gun fire made a
drumming tattoo, till the planes, with the swiftness of hawks, swept
aside, formed to groups, tore on down toward the ground and then
curved in great circles of speed to climb back to the theater of
action.

* * * * *

Lieutenant McGuire was rigid and quivering. He should go to the phone
and report to the colonel, but the thought left him as quickly as it
came. He was frozen in place, and his mind could hold only the scene
that was being pictured before him.

The enemy ship had described its swift curve, and the planes of the
defenders were climbing desperately for advantage. So slowly they
moved as com