p right and left
and do what damage he could before yielding himself a prisoner.

Once more Tom had made a gain. The Fates were favoring him, it seemed,
and with set teeth he kept up the hot chase.

Suddenly the Hun collapsed.

Tom almost fell over him as he ran on; and when Harry came up was
bending above the spy, muttering to himself after the manner of a sadly
disappointed person.

"What rotten luck for us, after all our work, Harry!" he complained, to
the utter bewilderment of his comrade.

"I don't get your meaning, Tom!" exclaimed Harry. "This is one of the
Huns, all right, and we've got him at last. What is there to kick about,
I'd like to know?"

"Why, don't you understand? He's wounded!" said Tom scornfully.

"Wounded! How?" echoed the other, still groping for the truth.

"Somebody shot him in the leg!" explained Tom, in disgust. "Just as I
was bound to jump him in another ten seconds! Did you ever hear of such
tough luck? Took the wind right out of our sails, he did, by using his
gun. If he'd put a bullet in my leg I could hardly feel madder, for a
fact."

Harry, however, quickly chuckled, as though he did not look at the
matter in the same way as his chum seemed to.

"Oh, well, the main thing isn't that we'd get a little glory from the
capture of the Hun," he said, "but that their desperate game has been
blocked. But this chap seems to be groaning as if suffering, Tom. He
ought to be taken care of, Boche or not."

"Yes, that's right, Harry," added the other, for the time being crushing
down his disappointment.

As some of the attendants of the aviation field came up just at that
moment there was need for explanations. Among them Tom noticed one who,
as he well knew, had charge of the hangars during the night.

"Lieutenant Simmons, here's a Boche spy who, with a companion, was
trying to bomb the big Beresford plane. Sorry we couldn't round up both
of them. This fellow has been shot, and ought to have attention. Now,
Harry, if you don't mind, we'll step around to your hangar and look into
the little job that brought us over here from the camp."

Tom really wished to get away from the crowd that was gathering. He had
no liking for being made an object of special interest. Although always
eager to attempt unusual exploits, it was only to please himself, and
not because of any reward or a morbid desire to be looked on as a hero.

Harry was not quite as diffident, and might have liked to linger a