t the Boche attack head on. Dicky was a good shot, and tried
his best to wing their fleet antagonist, but failed to hit him.
Perhaps the readiness of the two Americans to meet the attack,
however, had somewhat disconcerted the German's aim, for he too,
missed the triplane.

The spotty clouds made the fighting in-and-out work that morning.
The four hunters were still in commission, as was the observation
triplane. Three Boche fliers of the seven had been accounted for,
and a fourth driven down. Things looked very good for the Brighton
boys, but they were over enemy territory and by no means "out of
the woods" yet. A speedy Boche trio which had apparently not before
seen the Americans suddenly dived from a good height and the fight
began all over again.

In the melee of looping, side-slipping and nose-diving that ensued
Bob got his big triplane headed for home and started off at high
speed. This left the four hunters to their own devices, with no other
troubles than to down such German antagonists as they might encounter,
and to get their own machines safely home if they could.

But none of the four liked to start for home until he was sure the
others of his group were all right and ready to come back with him.
The spotty clouds were responsible for a bit of delay. Parker
was nowhere to be seen. Joe, Harry, and Jimmy circled round once
or twice, undecided what to do, and at that moment Parker came climbing
back from a dead-leaf drop, having shaken off his Boche pursuers, and
gave the signal for the home flight. Home they turned, and as
they did so, four big Albatrosses, a section of the first group they
had met, joined to two of the second group, came at them. Without
any concerted idea of action Joe, Jimmy, and Harry looped straight
over simultaneously, every one of the three performing a perfect
loop and coming right side up at the same moment. Each of them,
also, fired a round at the Boche immediately in front of him
and made off for home at top speed.

Parker did a side-wing drop, and as he did so felt a sharp pain in
his back. His arms lost their power. A bullet had lodged in his
back, and worked its way, urged, perhaps, by the pressure of the
boy's back against the seat cushion, to some spot more vital than
that in which it had first lodged. From an apparently harmless
wound, and certainly a painless one, Parker's hurt had become so
serious as to prove mortal. For, try as he would, he could not
m