Bob and Dicky, in the observation plane, were after certain definite photographs, and the lower cloud strata made it necessary for them to drop lower than usual to obtain that of which they were in search.  The Boche “Archies” burst shells all about them, but Bob kept the swift machine maneuvering in such manner that to hit it required great good fortune on the part of the German gunners.  The pop! pop! pop! of the anti-aircraft shrapnel and the whizz! of the pieces of shell went almost unnoticed by the two boys, so intent were they on their quest.  Once bits of shell tore through one of the planes, and once a few stray bits rattled against the light armor of the fuselage.

Richardson and the major, in the other triplane, had climbed to a greater height.  Richardson’s instructions were to get into a certain position as soon as possible and drop several hundred pounds of high explosive on a big munition dump.  Experience had taught him that to be at a good height above an exploding dump was advisable.  Once before he had nearly been wrecked by the explosion of a German munition depot, which had caused a commotion in the air for thousands of feet above it.

Just as Bob and Dicky were circling around the spot they were bent on photographing, and Richardson and the major were loosing off their messengers of destruction toward the munition dump they had set out to destroy, the four men in the hunters, at twenty thousand feet, were beginning to feel the cold.  Parker, whose job it was to give the signals for action to his little fleet, dipped his plane slightly and peered downward to see what was taking place below.  His face felt as if it was pressed to a block of ice.  Surely some enemy scouts would be on hand soon.

As Parker circled round, his eyes searching the sky below him, seven Boche fighting machines came hurtling down from the north.

They had been hidden by fleecy, spotty clouds for a few moments, and were already too near to the two triplanes below.  Parker waved his wing tips, which was his signal to his three companions in the hunting machines that the fight was on, and headed toward the oncoming fleet of seven.  Joe Little was the first of the other three to see their adversaries, and was not far behind Parker.  Next came Jimmy Hill, with Harry Corwin bringing up the rear.

The splendid planes rushed to the attack as though they knew the necessity for speed.  Their engines purred smoothly, singing a vicious song, as they worked up their speed to more than a hundred miles an hour.  The four American hunters were high above the seven German machines.  Then the time came to drop downward.  Parker first, and the other three in turn, dipped the noses of their planes.  The added assistance of gravity lent swiftness to their flight until they were swooping down on the enemy at little less than one hundred and fifty miles an hour.  The Boches at first seemed so intent upon their quarry, the two triplanes, that they were like to be taken completely by surprise by the four wasps from the upper air.  Then they saw the descending quartette.  Parker, ahead, with one hand on his controls and the other on his Lewis gun, made direct for the first Boche of the seven.  The moment he was within range he opened fire.