Major Denning had a car at their disposal.

“It will take us to a place where we can leave the road and follow a path to the beach,” he told them.  “Beverly has quite a force of men there looking after things, which fact makes me hope nothing could have happened to injure or destroy that wonderful bomber.  But we’ve been pestered to death with Hun bounders playing spy, and I’d put nothing past them.”

They set out, and were soon on the way.  Major Denning had a man at the wheel, evidently his chauffeur, for he was a British private.  He knew the road, and managed to steer clear of the obstructions that continually cropped up.

“Seems to me those Hun pilots must have dropped most of their bombs out this way, instead of hitting the town or the camps,” Tom suggested, as they dodged to and fro, and often suffered severe bouncings.

“No man-power to make any road repairs, in the bargain,” explained the officer.  “Since the drive has been on we are sending every British battalion we can muster forward.  These things can wait until the German is licked, which we all believe is coming shortly, with Marshall Haig and General Pershing and General Petain on the job.”

“Wow! what’s that mean?” cried Jack, half jumping up as the sound of several shots not far away came distinctly to their ears.

“Did those shots seem to be over yonder to the right?” asked the major.

“So far as I was able to judge that’s where they came from,” Tom replied.  “Does the hangar lie in that quarter, sir?”

“Just what it does!  There’s certainly something strange going on around there to-night.  But we’ll quickly learn for ourselves, because the spot where we leave the road is just ahead of us.”

Jack was the first out; indeed the car had not wholly come to a stand before he made a flying jump.  Leaving the chauffeur to watch the car, the major soon found the trail.  He carried a small hand electric torch with him, a vest-pocket size, but at least with a ray sufficiently strong to dissipate the gloom under the brush and to show them what seemed to be a well defined trail.

“We may find ourselves made a target by some of his wideawake guards.  That they are on the alert those shots we heard a bit ago seem to testify,” suggested Major Denning.

“Oh, we’ll use the signal whistle; and I feel sure Lieutenant Beverly himself will be listening to catch it, for he expects us any minute now.”

“We’re getting close enough just now to exercise due caution, at any rate,” the guide answered in a whisper.

Taking the hint, Tom commenced giving the signal.  It was a short sharp whistle, four times repeated.  Hardly had Tom sounded this than they heard an answer.

“Fine!” exclaimed Jack.  “He’s here on deck, and perhaps everything may be all right yet.”

They continued along the path, and Tom repeated his whistling.  Finally the figure of a man loomed up beyond.