e noted that the people were not shouting, knew they watched his
deliberation. A bullet smashed on the bar above his head. Who fired? Was
the line clear of people? He stood up to see and sat down again.

In another second the propeller was spinning, and he was rushing down
the guides. He gripped the wheel and swung the engine back to lift the
stem. Then it was the people shouted. In a moment he was throbbing with
the quiver of the engine, and the shouts dwindled swiftly behind, rushed
down to silence. The wind whistled over the edges of the screen, and the
world sank away from him very swiftly.

Throb, throb, throb--throb, throb, throb; up he drove. He fancied
himself free of all excitement, felt cool and deliberate. He lifted the
stem still more, opened one valve on his left wing and swept round and
up. He looked down with a steady head, and up. One of the Ostrogite
aeropiles was driving across his course, so that he drove obliquely
towards it and would pass below it at a steep angle. Its little
aeronauts were peering down at him. What did they mean to do? His mind
became active. One, he saw held a weapon pointing, seemed prepared to
fire. What did they think he meant to do? In a moment he understood
their tactics, and his resolution was taken. His momentary lethargy was
past. He opened two more valves to his left, swung round, end on to this
hostile machine, closed his valves, and shot straight at it, stem and
wind-screen shielding him from the shot. They tilted a little as if to
clear him. He flung up his stem.

Throb, throb, throb--pause--throb, throb--he set his teeth, his face
into an involuntary grimace, and crash! He struck it! He struck upward
beneath the nearer wing.

Very slowly the wing of his antagonist seemed to broaden as the impetus
of his blow turned it up. He saw the full breadth of it and then it slid
downward out of his sight.

He felt his stem going down, his hands tightened on the levers, whirled
and rammed the engine back. He felt the jerk of a clearance, the nose
of the machine jerked upward steeply, and for a moment he seemed to be
lying on his back. The machine was reeling and staggering, it seemed to
be dancing on its screw. He made a huge effort, hung for a moment on the
levers, and slowly the engine came forward again. He was driving upward
but no longer so steeply. He gasped for a moment and flung himself at
the levers again. The wind whistled about him. One further effort and
he was a