Air Service Boys Over the Atlantic | Page 3

a
point where it would have been possible for them to open fire on the
wounded American.
Jack looked in vain for any second figure near the fallen plane. If the
pilot had had an observer with him, which was most likely, considering

the fact that he had been using a bombing machine, the latter must have
been dispatched for relief some time before.
"There they are, Tom!" burst from the one who crouched close to the
machine gun, and pointing as he spoke. "Swoop down and let me give
them a volley!"
The Huns evidently realized what was coming, and feared that their
intended victim might after all escape their hands. Even as Jack spoke
there came a shot from below, and a bullet went screaming past close to
the ears of the Air Service Boys. It was followed by a second and a
third in quick succession.
What the marksmen hoped to do was either to kill the pilot or else to
strike some vulnerable part of the engine, thus disabling it and
wrecking the plane. Those were chances which had to be taken
continually; but as a rule the rapidity of flight rendered them almost
negligible.
Jack waited no longer. The two men were about to fling themselves
behind friendly trees, and but a small chance remained that he might
catch them before they were able to shield themselves by these close-by
trunks.
Jack, in his most energetic fashion, commenced to spray the vicinity
with a shower of leaden missiles. The chatter of the machine gun
drowned any cries from the two men below. The Yankee plane
swooped past the spot where the injured pilot still sat at bay, ready to
sell his life dearly if the worst came.
CHAPTER II
THE RESCUE
The rat-tat-tat of gunfire suddenly ceased. Jack could no longer cover
the spot where the two Huns were hiding behind the tree-trunks, and
consequently it would be a sheer waste of ammunition to continue
firing.

But already Tom had commenced to circle, and soon they would be
swooping down upon the scene from another direction. Jack kept on the
alert, so as to note quickly any possible movement of the enemy.
Again he poured a hot fire on the place where he knew the Germans
were cowering, tearing up the ground with a storm of bullets as though
it had been freshly harrowed. But the sturdy trees baffled him once
more.
"Nothing doing, Tom!" he called out, vexed. "We've got to drop down
and go it on foot if we want to save that pilot!"
"I see a good landing place!" announced the other almost instantly.
"Great luck! get busy then!"
The ground chanced to be unusually smooth, and the plane, after
bumping along for a short distance, came to a stand. Meanwhile, both
young fliers had succeeded in releasing themselves from their safety
belts.
Together they jumped to the ground and started on a run toward the
spot where those crouching figures had last been seen. Of course, the
Huns must already know of their landing and would be ready to defend
themselves, if not to attack; but, nothing daunted by this possibility, the
pair pushed ahead through bushes and past trees.
"Better separate, and attack 'em from two different angles, hadn't we,
Tom?" panted Jack presently, as a shot was heard and something
clipped a twig from a bush within a foot of his hand.
"Take the left, and I'll look after the right!" snapped out Tom.
Both were armed with automatic pistols, for airmen can never tell when
their lives may depend upon their ability to defend themselves, and so
seldom make a flight without some such weapon in their possession.
"They're on the run!" cried Jack, in a tone of disgust; for he had really

hoped to have a further brush with the skulking enemy.
He sent several shots in their direction whenever he caught glimpses of
the bounding figures, but without much hope of striking either of them.
Still, they had undoubtedly accomplished the business in hand, which
was to save the Yankee pilot.
"He's over this way, Jack," observed Tom, moving to the right still
further, after being joined by his comrade. "I can see the opening where
he must have struck. The Hun flier didn't bother to follow him down
and find out if he'd made a count. He may have been here for some
time."
"I see him now," continued Jack eagerly. "And it strikes me there's
something familiar about his looks. Yes, we've met that pilot before,
Tom. It's Lieutenant Colin Beverly, one of the cleverest Yankee aces of
the newer squad."
The aviator had already discovered the Air Service Boys' presence.
Doubtless all that had occurred had been noted by him as he sat,
waiting for anything