Doubling under the tail of the passing Boches -- there were two of'
them in the machine -- Blaine came up right under the German's
propeller, his own gun in straight line for the center of the other's
fuselage. As he came up he began a spatter of bullets that fairly
riddled the body of the big Taube, and directly thereafter came a burst
of flame so bright and searching that Blaine had to dip again, sidewise
to avoid its scorching significance. The German's tank was exploding
and in a mass of flames the two men fell, the skeleton of their machine
about them as the whole dropped to the earth.
Hardly had Blaine cleared this aerial ruin than came the commander's
signal to retire. Somehow, after that, Lafe felt that in a measure he
had a certain revenge from the Boches for poor Stanley's death; for
Stanley was dead -- no doubt of that. At least so Blaine thought.
Up he mounted and presently saw Buck Bangs engaged with a rather clumsy
German, who seemed bent upon peppering Bangs and his machine full of
holes. He flew to Buck's assistance, when the German straightened out
and made for his own rear, with Bangs in full pursuit. In his present
mood, instead of returning with the rest of the home squadron, Blaine
took after the German, and for five minutes there was a mid-heaven race
towards Belgium. But Bangs, in his small scout, was easily the fastest
and soon he and the German were engaged in a running duel.
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