Then it became suddenly quiet—­so quiet that Hal, Chester and Stubbs, who had now leaped to their feet, felt a queer sensation hovering all about them; so quiet that it was, for the moment, impossible to hear.

Then something descended not five yards from where the three stood with a terrible roar.  Instinctively, all fell to the ground again, crowding themselves into the smallest possible space.

For the rain of debris had begun.  And for several minutes it continued.  Pieces of guns, of rocks and of all objects imaginable fell upon all sides of the three; but, fortunately, none struck them.  Then the rain of debris ceased.

In the great German camp all was hideous confusion.  Thousands of lives had been snuffed out by the force of the titanic blast; thousands of others had perished in the rain of steel and iron and rock that followed.  It was the greatest catastrophe that had befallen the Germans for many a long day.  The effect of the explosion was appalling.

Hal’s first thought after the rain of steel and iron had ceased was for the aeroplane.  If it had been smashed they were, indeed, in a serious situation.  If it had gone through the storm safely they were comparatively safe.

Together the three friends rushed toward the machine.  Quickly they rolled it out into the open.  Hal examined the engine and steering apparatus carefully.

“All right, Hal?” asked Chester, anxiously.

Hal shook his head.

“Something wrong with the engine.”

“Can you fix it?”

“I haven’t been able to determine just what’s wrong yet.”

Hal worked rapidly; and at last he gave an exclamation of satisfaction.

“Find it?” asked Chester.

“Yes; I’ll have it fixed in a quarter of an hour.”

“If we’re not away from here in five minutes we’re likely to be dead,” said Stubbs, plaintively.

“Don’t croak, Stubbs,” said Chester.  “We’ve done a good day’s work and you should be proud to have a hand in it.”

“Should I?” said Stubbs.  “Well, all right, if you say so; but I would be a whole lot more proud if I could get back and tell somebody about it.”

“A man deserves no particular credit for doing his duty,” said Chester, quietly.

“Maybe not,” agreed Stubbs.  “But I haven’t done mine yet.”

“Why—­”

“My duty,” said Stubbs, “is to get back to some place where I can send an account of this feat to the New York Gazette.  Believe me, it will be some scoop.”

“Scoop?”

“Yes.  I mean no other paper will have the facts as I have them.”

“All right, Stubbs,” said Chester.  “I hope you get your scoop.”

“I’m going to get it,” said Stubbs, excitedly, “if I have to walk over the body of the Kaiser himself to do it.”

“That’s the way to talk,” said Chester.  “Confidence is the greatest asset in the world.”