Au revoir, lads! Don't come back until you
have delivered the goods."
Back went the Sergeant and Corporal, each to his own machine, which
headed a short double line holding six planes, or a dozen in all.
At a quiet signal the leaders rose, spiraling into the upper darkness.
Presently all had vanished, zigzagging in an easterly direction. About
this time there came a sudden blue flare as a solitary rocket shot
upward from beyond the grove of trees that that marked the landing
place within the enclosed area that formed this aerodrome.
Instantly Byers was on the qui vive, he being nearest the point
indicated by the blue flare. Bursting into a full run, he sped towards
the spot, at the same time breaking in on several sentries
unobtrusively posted about the grounds where the raiders had departed.
"Scatter lads!" he ordered. "Hurry! Spies at work! Halt any one you
see, no matter who! Bring 'em in!"
Never halting in his race, he made directly for the spot whence the
flare of the rocket had gone up. As he neared the trees, the sounds of
a child's voice came to his ears, just inside the grove. It was
remonstrating to some one.
"D -- don't, papa! I -- I want to get the pieces. My! Wasn't it
pretty --"
Another voice, hoarse, gruff, stopped the childish words, but what it
said was indistinguishable. Byers looked around. Two of his sentries
were near, all of them running.
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