TAM O' THE SCOOTS

By EDGAR WALLACE

A. L. BURT COMPANY_PUBLISHERS_New York Chicago

Printed in U. S. A. 

Copyright, 1919

By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY

(INCORPORATED)

BOOKS BY

Edgar Wallace

 ANGEL ESQUIRE THE ANGEL OF TERROR THE BLACK ABBOT BLUE HAND CAPTAINS OF SOULS THE CLEVER ONE THE CLUE OF THE NEW PIN THE CLUE OF THE TWISTED CANDLE THE CRIMSON CIRCLE THE DAFFODIL MURDER THE DARK EYES OF LONDON DIANA OF KARA-KARA THE DOOR WITH SEVEN LOCKS THE FACE IN THE NIGHT THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE FROG THE FLYING SQUAD THE FOUR JUST MEN THE GIRL FROM SCOTLAND YARD THE GREEN ARCHER GREEN RUST GUNMAN'S BLUFF THE HAIRY ARM JACK O'JUDGMENT KATE PLUS 10 A KING BY NIGHT THE MAN WHO KNEW THE MELODY OF DEATH THE MISSING MILLIONS THE MURDER BOOK OF J. G. REEDER THE NORTHING TRAMP THE RINGER THE SECRET HOUSE THE SINISTER MAN THE SQUEALER THE STRANGE COUNTESS TAM O' THE SCOOTS THE TERRIBLE PEOPLE TERROR KEEP THE TRAITORS' GATE THE THREE JUST MEN THE TWISTER THE VALLEY OF GHOSTS

 To

 QUENTIN ROOSEVELT

 AND ALL AIRMEN, FRIEND AND FOE ALIKE, WHO HAVE FALLEN IN CLEAN FIGHTING

 The world was a puddle of gloom and of shadowy things, He sped till the red and the gold of invisible day Was burnish and flames to the undermost spread of his wings, So he outlighted the stars as he poised in the grey. 

 Nearer was he to the knowledge and splendour of God, Mysteries sealed from the ken of the ancient and wise-- Beauties forbidden to those who are one with the clod-- All that there was of the Truth was revealed to his eyes. 

 Flickers of fire from the void and the whistle of death, Clouds that snapped blackly beneath him, above and beside, Watch him, serene and uncaring--holding your breath, Fearing his peril and all that may come of his pride. 

 Now he was swooped to the world like a bird to his nest, Now is the drone of his coming the roaring of hell, Now with a splutter and crash are the engines at rest-- All's well!

 E. W. 

 CONTENTS

 PAGE

 I THE CASE OF LASKY 1 II PUPPIES OF THE PACK 21 III THE COMING OF MÜLLER 40 IV THE STRAFING OF MÜLLER 58 V ANNIE--THE GUN 76 VI THE LAW-BREAKER AND FRIGHTFULNESS 100 VII THE MAN BEHIND THE CIRCUS 130 VIII A QUESTION OF RANK 157 IX A REPRISAL RAID 191 X THE LAST LOAD 220

TAM O' THE SCOOTS

CHAPTER I

THE CASE OF LASKY

Lieutenant Bridgeman went out over the German line and "strafed" adepot. He stayed a while to locate a new gun position and was caughtbetween three strong batteries of Archies. 

"Reports?" said the wing commander. "Well, Bridgeman isn't back and Tamsaid he saw him nose-dive behind the German trenches. "

So the report was made to Headquarters and Headquarters sent forward along account of air flights for publication in the day's communique, adding, "One of our machines did not return. "

"But, A' doot if he's killit, " said Tam; "he flattened oot before hereached airth an' flew aroond a bit. Wi' ye no ask Mr. Lasky, sir-r, he's just in?"

Mr. Lasky was a bright-faced lad who, in ordinary circumstances, mighthave been looking forward to his leaving-book from Eton, but now had tohis credit divers bombed dumps and three enemy airmen. 

He met the brown-faced, red-haired, awkwardly built youth whom all theFlying Corps called "Tam. "

"Ah, Tam, " said Lasky reproachfully, "I was looking for you--I wantedyou badly. "

Tam chuckled. 

"A' thocht so, " he said, "but A' wis not so far frae the aerodrome whenyon feller chased you--"

"I was chasing him!" said the indignant Lasky. 

"Oh, ay?" replied the other skeptically. "An' was ye wantin' the Scootto help ye chase ain puir wee Hoon? Sir-r, A' think shame on ye formisusin' the puir laddie. "

"There were four, " protested Lasky. 

"And yeer gun jammed, A'm thinkin', so wi' rair presence o' mind, yestood oop in the fuselage an' hit the nairest representative of theImperial Gairman Air Sairvice a crack over the heid wi' a spanner. "

A little group began to form at the door of the mess-room, for the newsthat Tam the Scoot was "up" was always sufficient to attract anaudience. As for the victim of Tam's irony, his eyes were dancing withglee. 

"Dismayed or frichtened by this apparition of the supermon i' theair-r, " continued Tam in the monotonous tone he adopted when he wasevolving one of his romances, "the enemy fled, emittin' spairks an'vapair to hide them from the veegilant ee o' young Mr. Lasky, the BoyAvenger, oor the Terror o' the Fairmament. They darted heether andtheether wi' their remorseless pairsuer on their heels an' the seenistersound of his bullets whistlin' in their lugs. Ain by ain the enemy isdefeated, fa'ing like Lucifer in a flamin' shrood. Soodenly Mr. Laskyturns verra pale. Heavens! A thocht has strook him. Where is Tam theScoot? The horror o' the thocht leaves him braithless; an' back hetairns an' like a hawk deeps sweeftly but gracefully into theaerodrome--saved!"

"Bravo, Tam!" They gave him his due reward with great handclapping andTam bowed left and right, his forage cap in his hand. 

"Folks, " he said, "ma next pairformance will be duly annoonced. "

 * * * * *

Tam came from the Clyde. He was not a ship-builder, but was theassistant of a man who ran a garage and did small repairs. Nor was he, in the accepted sense of the word, a patriot, because he did not enlistat the beginning of the war. His boss suggested he should, but Tamapparently held other views, went into a shipyard and was "badged andreserved. "

They combed him out of that, and he went to another factory, making afalse statement to secure the substitution of the badge he had lost. Hewas unmarried and had none dependent on him, and his landlord, who hadtwo sons fighting, suggested to Tam that though he'd hate to lose a goodlodger, he didn't think the country ought to lose a good soldier. 

Tam changed his lodgings. 

He moved to Glasgow and was insulted by a fellow workman with the nameof coward. Tam hammered his fellow workman insensible and was firedforthwith from his job. 

Every subterfuge, every trick, every evasion and excuse he could inventto avoid service in the army, he invented. He simply did not want to bea soldier. He believed most passionately that the war had been startedwith the sole object of affording his enemies opportunities for annoyinghim. 

Then one day he was sent on a job to an aerodrome workshop. He was aclever mechanic and he had mastered the intricacies of the engine whichhe was to repair, in less than a day. 

He went back to his work very thoughtfully, and the next Sunday hebicycled to the aerodrome in his best clothes and renewed hisacquaintance with the mechanics. 

Within a week, he was wearing the double-breasted tunic of the HigherLife. He was not a good or a tractable recruit. He hated discipline andregarded his superiors as less than equals--but he was an enthusiast. 

When Pangate, which is in the south of England, sent for pilots andmechanics, he accompanied his officer and flew for the first time in hislife. 

In the old days he could not look out of a fourth-floor window withoutfeeling giddy. Now he flew over England at a height of six thousandfeet, and was sorry when the journey came to an end. In a few months hewas a qualified pilot, and might have received a commission had he sodesired. 

"Thank ye, sir-r, " he said to the commandant, "but ye ken weel A'm nogentry. M' fairther was no believer in education, an' whilst itherladdies were livin' on meal at the University A' was airning ma' salt atthe Govan Iron Wairks. A'm no' a society mon ye ken--A'd be usin' thewrong knife to eat wi' an' that would bring the coorp into disrepute. "

His education had, as a matter of fact, been a remarkable one. From thetime he could read, he had absorbed every boy's book that he could buyor borrow. He told a friend of mine that when he enlisted he handed tothe care of an acquaintance over six hundred paper-covered volumes whichsurveyed the world of adventure, from the Nevada of Deadwood Dick to theAustralia of Jack Harkaway. He knew the stories by heart, theirphraseology and their construction, and was wont at times, half inearnest, half in dour fun (at his own expense), to satirize every-dayadventures in the romantic language of his favorite authors. 

He was regarded as the safest, the most daring, the most venomous ofthe scouts--those swift-flying spitfires of the clouds--and enjoyed afame among the German airmen which was at once flattering and ominous. Once they dropped a message into the aerodrome. It was short andhumorous, but there was enough truth in the message to give it a bite:

 Let us know when Tam is buried, we would a wreath subscribe. 

 Officers, German Imperial Air Service. Section ----

Nothing ever pleased Tam so much as this unsolicited testimonial to hisprowess. 

He purred for a week. Then he learned from a German prisoner that theauthor of the note was the flyer of a big Aviatic, and went and killedhim in fair fight at a height of twelve thousand feet. 

"It was an engrossin' an' thrillin' fight, " explained Tam; "the bluidwas coorsin' in ma veins, ma hairt was palpitatin' wi' suppressedemotion. Roond an' roond ain another the dauntless airmen caircled, thenoo above, the noo below the ither. Wi' supairb resolution Tam o' theScoots nose-dived for the wee feller's tail, loosin' a drum at the puirbody as he endeavoured to escape the lichtenin' swoop o' the intrepidScotsman. Wi' matchless skeel, Tam o' the Scoots banked over an' brochtthe gallant miscreant to terra firma--puir laddie! If he'd kept ben thehoose he'd no' be lyin' deid the nicht. God rest him!"

 * * * * *

You might see Tam in the early morning, when the world was dark and onlythe flashes of guns revealed the rival positions, poised in the earlysun, fourteen thousand feet in the air, a tiny spangle of white, smallerin magnitude than the fading stars. He seems motionless, though you knowthat he is traveling in big circles at seventy miles an hour. 

He is above the German lines and the fleecy bursts of shrapnel and thedarker patches where high explosive shells are bursting beneath him, advertise alike his temerity and the indignation of the enemy. 

What is Tam doing there so early?

There has been a big raid in the dark hours; a dozen bombing machineshave gone buzzing eastward to a certain railway station where the Germantroops waited in readiness to reinforce either A or B fronts. If youlook long, you see the machines returning, a group of black specks inthe morning sky. The Boches' scouts are up to attack--the raiders goserenely onward, leaving the exciting business of duel _à l'outrance_ tothe nippy fighting machines which fly above each flank. One such fighterthrows himself at three of the enemy, diving, banking, climbing, circling and all the time firing "_ticka--ticka--ticka--ticka!_" throughhis propellers. 

The fight is going badly for the bold fighting machine, when suddenlylike a hawk, Tam o' the Scoots sweeps upon his prey. One of the enemyside-slips, dives and streaks to the earth, leaving a cloud of smoke tomark his unsubstantial path. As for the others, they bank over and gohome. One falls in spirals within the enemy's lines. Rescuer and rescuedland together. The fighting-machine pilot is Lieutenant Burnley; theobserver, shot through the hand, but cheerful, is Captain Forsyn. 

"Did ye no' feel a sense o' gratitude to the Almighty when you kent itwere Tam sittin' aloft like a wee angel?"

"I thought it was a bombing machine that had come back, " said Burnleyuntruthfully. 

"Did ye hear that, sir-rs?" asked Tam wrathfully. "For a grown officeran' gentleman haulding the certeeficate of the Royal Flying Coorp, tothink ma machine were a bomber! Did ye no' look oop an' see me? Did yeno' look thankfully at yeer obsairvor, when, wi' a hooricane roar, theTerror of the Air-r hurtled across the sky--'Saved!' ye said to yersel';'saved--an' by Tam! What can I do to shaw ma appreciation of the hero'sdevotion? Why!' ye said to yersel', soodenly, 'Why! A'll gi' him a boxo' seegairs sent to me by ma rich uncle fra' Glasgae--!'"

"You can have two cigars, Tam--I'll see you to the devil before I giveyou any more--I only had fifty in the first place. "

"Two's no' many, " said Tam calmly, "but A've na doot A'll enjoy them wi'ma educated palate better than you, sir-r--seegairs are for men an' no'for bairns, an' ye'd save yersel' an awfu' feelin' o' seekness if yegave me a'. "

Tam lived with the men--he had the rank of sergeant, but he was as muchTam to the private mechanic as he was to the officers. His pay was goodand sufficient. He had shocked that section of the Corps ComfortsCommittee which devoted its energies to the collection and dispatch ofliterature, by requesting that a special effort be made to keep himsupplied "wi' th' latest bluids. " A member of the Committee with asneaking regard for this type of literature took it upon himself toransack London for penny dreadfuls, and Tam received a generous stockwith regularity. 

"A'm no' so fond o' th' new style, " he said; "the detective stoory isverra guid in its way for hame consumption, but A' prefair the mairpreemative discreeptions, of how that grand mon, Deadwood Dick, foiledthe machinations of Black Peter, the Scoorge of Hell Cañon. A've nosoort o' use for the new kind o' stoory--the love-stoories aboot mooney. Ye ken the soort: Harild is feelin' fine an' anxious aboot LadyGwendoline's bairthmark: is she the rechtfu' heir? Oh, Heaven help me tosolve the meestry! (To be continued in oor next. ) A'm all for bluid an'fine laddies wi' a six-shooter in every hand an' a bowie-knife in theirteeth--it's no' so intellectual, but, mon, it's mair human!"

 * * * * *

Tam was out one fine spring afternoon in a one-seater Morane. He was onguard watching over the welfare of two "spotters" who were correctingthe fire of a "grandmother" battery. There was a fair breeze blowingfrom the east, and it was bitterly cold, but Tam in his leather jacket, muffled to the eyes, and with his hands in fur-lined gloves and with thewarmth from his engine, was comfortable without being cozy. 

 * * * * *

Far away on the eastern horizon he saw a great cloud. It was a detachedand imperial cumulus, a great frothy pyramid that sailed in majesticsplendor. Tam judged it to be a mile across at its base and calculatedits height, from its broad base to its feathery spirelike apex, atanother mile. 

"There's an awfu' lot of room in ye, " he thought. 

It was moving slowly toward him and would pass him at such a level thatdid he explore it, he would enter half-way between its air foundationand its peak. 

He signaled with his wireless, "Am going to explore cloud, " and sent hisMorane climbing. 

He reached the misty outskirts of the mass and began its encirclement, drawing a little nearer to its center with every circuit. Now he was ina white fog which afforded him only an occasional glimpse of the earth. The fog grew thicker and darker and he returned again to the outer edgebecause there would be no danger in the center. Gently he declined hiselevator and sank to a lower level. Then suddenly, beneath him, a shortshape loomed through the mist and vanished in a flash. Tam had a tray ofbombs under the fuselage--something in destructive quality between aMills grenade and a three-inch shell. 

He waited.... 

Presently--swish! They were circling in the opposite direction to Tam, which meant that the object passed him at the rate of one hundred andforty miles an hour. But he had seen the German coming.... Somethingdropped from the fuselage, there was the rending crash of an explosionand Tam dropped a little, swerved to the left and was out in cleardaylight in a second. 

Back he streaked to the British lines, his wireless working frantically. 

"Enemy raiding squadron in cloud--take the edge a quarter up. "

He received the acknowledgment and brought his machine around to facethe lordly bulk of the cumulus. 

Then the British Archies began their good work. 

Shrapnel and high explosives burst in a storm about the cloud. Lookingdown he saw fifty stabbing pencils of flame flickering from fifty A-Aguns. Every available piece of anti-aircraft artillery was turned uponthe fleecy mass. 

As Tam circled he saw white specks rising swiftly from the direction ofthe aerodrome and knew that the fighting squadron, full of fury, was onits way up. It had come to be a tradition in the wing that Tam had theright of initiating all attack, and it was a right of which he wasespecially jealous. Now, with the great cloud disgorging its shadowyguests, he gave a glance at his Lewis gun and drove straight for hisenemies. A bullet struck the fuselage and ricocheted past his ear;another ripped a hole in the canvas of his wing. He looked up. Highabove him, and evidently a fighting machine that had been hidden in theupper banks of the cloud, was a stiffly built Fokker. 

"Noo, lassie!" said Tam and nose-dived. 

Something flashed past his tail, and Tam's machine rocked like a ship atsea. He flattened out and climbed. The British Archies had ceased fireand the fight was between machine and machine, for the squadron was nowin position. Tam saw Lasky die and glimpsed the flaming wreck of theboy's machine as it fell, then he found himself attacked on two sides. But he was the swifter climber--the faster mover. He shot impartiallyleft and right and below--there was nothing above him after the firstsurprise. Then something went wrong with his engines--they missed, started, missed again, went on--then stopped. 

He had turned his head for home and begun his glide to earth. 

He landed near a road by the side of which a Highland battalion wasresting and came to ground without mishap. He unstrapped himself anddescended from the fuselage slowly, stripped off his gloves and walkedto where the interested infantry were watching him. 

"Where are ye gaun?" he asked, for Tam's besetting vice was anunquenchable curiosity. 

"To the trenches afore Masille, sir-r, " said the man he addressed. 

"Ye'll no' be callin' me 'sir-r, '" reproved Tam. "A'm a s-arrgent. Hoolang will ye stay in the trenches up yon?"

"Foor days, Sergeant, " said the man. 

"Foor days--guid Lord!" answered Tam. "A' wouldn't do that wairk for athoosand poonds a week. "

"It's no' so bad, " said half-a-dozen voices. 

"Ut's verra, verra dangerous, " said Tam, shaking his head. "A'mthankitfu' A'm no' a soldier--they tried haird to make me ain, but A'said, 'Noo, laddie--gie me a job--'"

_"Whoo!"_

A roar like the rush of an express train through a junction, and Tamlooked around in alarm. The enemy's heavy shell struck the ground midwaybetween him and his machine and threw up a great column of mud. 

"Mon!" said Tam in alarm. "A' thocht it were goin' straicht for ma weemachine. "

 * * * * *

"What happened to you, Tam?" asked the wing commander. 

Tam cleared his throat. 

"Patrollin' by order the morn, " he said, "ma suspeecions were aroused bythe erratic movements of a graund clood. To think, wi' Tam the Scoot, was to act. Wi'oot a thocht for his ain parrsonal safety, the gallantladdie brocht his machine to the clood i' question, caircling throughits oombrageous depths. It was a fine gay sicht--aloon i' th' sky, heventured into the air-r-lions' den. What did he see? The clood was anest o' wee horrnets! Slippin' a bomb he dashed madly back to the ooterair-r sendin' his S. O. S. Wi' baith hands--thanks to his--"

He stopped and bit his lip thoughtfully. 

"Come, Tam!" smiled the officer, "that's a lame story for you. "

"Oh, ay, " said Tam. "A'm no' in the recht speerit--Hoo mony did welose?"

"Mr. Lasky and Mr. Brand, " said the wing commander quietly. 

"Puir laddies, " said Tam. He sniffed. "Mr. Lasky was a bonnie lad--A'llask ye to excuse me, Captain Thompson, sir-r. A'm no feelin' verra weelthe day--ye've no a seegair aboot ye that ye wilna be wantin'?"

CHAPTER II

PUPPIES OF THE PACK

Tam was not infallible, and the working out of his great "thochts" didnot always justify the confidence which he reposed in them. His idea ofan "invisible aeroplane, " for example, which was to be one painted skyblue that would "hairmonise wi' the blaw skies, " was not a success, norwas his scheme for the creation of artificial clouds attended by anyencouraging results. But Tam's "Attack Formation for Bombing EnemyDepots" attained to the dignity of print, and was confidentiallycirculated in French, English, Russian, Italian, Serbian, Japanese andRumanian. 

The pity is that a Scottish edition was not prepared in Tam's ownlanguage; and Captain Blackie, who elaborated Tam's rough notes andcondensed into a few lines Tam's most romantic descriptions, hadsuggested such an edition for very private circulation. 

It would have begun somewhat like this:

"The Hoon or Gairman is a verra bonnie fichter, but he has naeineetiative. He squints oop in the morn an' he speers a fine machineower by his lines. 

"'Hoot!' says he, 'yon wee feller is Scottish, A'm thinkin'--go you, Fritz an' Hans an' Carl an' Heinrich, an' strafe the puir body. '

"'Nay, ' says his oonder lootenant. 'Nein, ' he says, 'ye daunt knaw whatye're askin', Herr Lootenant. '

"'What's wrong wi' ye?' says the oberlootenant. 'Are ye Gairman heroesor just low-doon Austreens that ye fear ain wee bairdie?'

"'Lootenant, ' say they, 'yon feller is Tam o' the Scoots, the Brigand o'the Stars!'

"'Ech!' he says. 'Gang oop, ain o' ye, an' ask the lad to coom doon an'tak' a soop wi' us--we maun keep on the recht side o' Tam!'"

All this and more would have gone to form the preliminary chapter of thetrue version of Tam's code of attack. 

 * * * * *

"He's a rum bird, is Tam, " said Captain Blackie at breakfast; "hebrought down von Zeidlitz yesterday. "

"Is von Zeidlitz down?" demanded half a dozen voices, and Blackienodded. 

"He was a good, clean fighter, " said young Carter regretfully. "When didyou hear this, sir?"

"This morning, through H. Q. Intelligence. "

"Tam will be awfully bucked, " said somebody. "He was complainingyesterday that life was getting too monotonous. By the way, we ought todrop a wreath for poor old von Zeidlitz. "

"Tam will do it with pleasure, " said Blackie; "he always liked vonZeidlitz--he called him 'Fritz Fokker' ever since the day von Zeidlitznearly got Tam's tail down. "

An officer standing by the window with his hands thrust into his pocketscalled over his shoulder:

"Here comes Tam. "

The thunder and splutter of the scout's engine came to them faintly asTam's swift little machine came skimming across the broad ground of theaerodrome and in a few minutes Tam was walking slowly toward the office, stripping his gloves as he went. 

Blackie went out to him. 

"Hello, Tam--anything exciting?"

Tam waved his hand--he never saluted. 

"Will ye gang an' tak' a look at me eenstruments?" he askedmysteriously. 

"Why, Tam?"

"_Will_ ye, sir-r?"

Captain Blackie walked over to the machine and climbed up into thefuselage. What he saw made him gasp, and he came back to where Tam wasstanding, smug and self-conscious. 

"You've been up to twenty-eight thousand feet, Tam?" asked theastonished Blackie. "Why, that is nearly a record!"

"A' doot ma baromeeter, " said Tam; "if A' were no' at fochty thousand, A'm a Boche. "

Blackie laughed. 

"You're not a Boche, Tam, " he said, "and you haven't been to fortythousand feet--no human being can rise eight miles. To get up five and ahalf miles is a wonderful achievement. Why did you do it?"

Tam grinned and slapped his long gloves together. 

"For peace an' quiet, " he said. "A've been chased by thairty air Hoonsthat got 'twixt me an' ma breakfast, so A' went oop a bit an' a bit morean' two fellers came behint me. There's an ould joke that A've neverunderstood before--'the higher the fewer'--it's no' deefficult tounderstand it noo. "

"You got back all right, anyhow, " said Blackie. 

"Aloon i' the vast an' silent spaces of the vaulted heavens, " said Tamin his sing-song tones which invariably accompanied his narratives, "theYoung Avenger of the Cloods, Tam the Scoot, focht his ficht. Attacked byowerwhelmin' foorces, shot at afore an' behint, the noble laddie didnalose his nairve. Mutterin' a brief--a verra brief--prayer that the Hoonswould be strafed, he climbt an' climbt till he could 'a' strook a matchon the moon. After him wi' set lips an' flashin' een came thebluidy-minded ravagers of Belgium, Serbia an'--A'm afreed--Roomania. Theer bullets whistled aboot his lugs but, "His eyes were bricht, His hairt were licht, For Tam the Scoot was fu' o' ficht--

"That's a wee poem A' made oop oot o' ma ain heid, Captain, at a heightof twenty-three thoosand feet. A'm thinkin' it's the highest poem in thewairld. "

"And you're not far wrong--well, what happened?"

"A' got hame, " said Tam grimly, "an' ain o' yon Hoons did no' get hame. Mon! It took him an awfu' long time to fa'!"

He went off to his breakfast and later, when Blackie came in search forhim, he found him lying on his bed smoking a long black cigar, his eyesglued to the pages of "Texas Tom, or the Road Agent's Revenge. "

"I forgot to tell you, Tam, " said Captain Blackie, "that von Zeidlitz isdown. "

"Doon?" said Tam, "'Fritz Fokker' doon? Puir laddie! He were a gayfichter--who straffit him?"

"You did--he was the man you shot down yesterday. "

Tam's eyes were bright with excitement. 

"Ye're fulin' me noo?" he asked eagerly. "It wisna me that straffit him?Puir auld Freetz! It were a bonnie an' a carefu' shot that got him. Hewis above me, d'ye ken? 'Ah naw!' says I. 'Ye'll no try that tailbitin'trick on Tam, ' says I; 'naw, Freetz--!' An' I maneuvered to miss him. Iput a drum into him at close range an' the puir feller side-slippit an'nose-dived. Noo was it Freetz, then? Weel, weel!"

"We want you to take a wreath over--he'll be buried at Ludezeel. "

"With the verra greatest pleasure, " said Tam heartily, "and if ye'll nomind, Captain, A'd like to compose a wee vairse to pit in the box. "

For two hours Tam struggled heroically with his composition. At the endof that time he produced with awkward and unusual diffidence a poemwritten in his sprawling hand and addressed:

 Dedication to Mr. Von Sidlits By Tam of the Scoots

"I'll read you the poem, Captain Blackie, sir-r, " said Tam nervously, and after much coughing he read:

 "A graund an' nooble clood Was the flyin' hero's shrood Who dies at half-past seven And he verra well desairves The place that God resairves For the men who die in Heaven. 

"A've signed it, 'Kind regards an' deepest sympathy wi' a' his lovedains, '" said Tam. "A' didna say A' killit him--it would no be delicate. "

The wreath in a tin box, firmly corded and attached to a littleparachute, was placed in the fuselage of a small Morane--his own machinebeing in the hands of the mechanics--and Tam climbed into the seat. Infive minutes he was pushing up at the steep angle which represented theextreme angle at which a man can fly. Tam never employed a lesser one. 

He had learnt just what an aeroplane could do, and it was exactly allthat he called for. Soon he was above the lines and was heading forLudezeel. Archies blazed and banged at him, leaving a trail of puffballs to mark his course; an enemy scout came out of the clouds toengage him and was avoided, for the corps made it a point of honor notto fight when engaged on such a mission as was Tam's. 

Evidently the enemy scout realized the business of this lone Britishflyer and must have signaled his views to the earth, for theanti-aircraft batteries suddenly ceased fire, and when, approachingLudezeel, Tam sighted an enemy squadron engaged in a practise flight, they opened out and made way for him, offering no molestation. 

Tam began to plane down. He spotted the big white-speckled cemetery andsaw a little procession making its way to the grounds. He came down to athousand feet and dropped his parachute. He saw it open and sailearthward and then some one on the ground waved a white handkerchief. 

"Guid, " said Tam, and began to climb homeward. 

 * * * * *

The next day something put out of action the engine of that redoubtablefighter, Baron von Hansen-Bassermann, and he planed down to the Britishaerodrome with his machine flaming. 

A dozen mechanics dashed into the blaze and hauled the German to safety, and, beyond a burnt hand and a singed mustache, he was unharmed. 

Lieutenant Baron von Hansen-Bassermann was a good-looking youth. He was, moreover, an undergraduate of Oxford University and his English wasperfect. 

"Hard luck, sir, " said Blackie, and the baron smiled. 

"Fortunes of war. Where's Tam?" he asked. 

"Tam's up-stairs somewhere, " said Blackie. He looked up at the unfleckedblue of the sky, shading his eyes. "He's been gone two hours. "

The baron nodded and smiled again. 

"Then it was Tam!" he said. "I thought I knew his touch--does he 'loop'to express his satisfaction?"

"That's Tam!" said a chorus of voices. 

"He was sitting in a damp cloud waiting for me, " said the baronruefully. "But who was the Frenchman with him?"

Blackie looked puzzled. 

"Frenchman? There isn't a French machine within fifty miles; did heattack you, too?"

"No--he just sat around watching and approving. I had the curious sensethat I was being butchered to make a Frenchman's holiday. It is curioushow one gets those quaint impressions in the air--it is a sort of ninthsense. I had a feeling that Tam was 'showing off'--in fact, I knew itwas Tam, for that reason. "

"Come and have some breakfast before you're herded into captivity withthe brutal soldiery, " said Blackie, and they all went into the mess-roomtogether, and for an hour the room rang with laughter, for both thebaron and Captain Blackie were excellent raconteurs. 

Tam, when he returned, had little to say about his mysterious companionin the air. He thought it was a "French laddie. " Nor had he any story totell about the driving down of the baron's machine. He could only saythat he "kent" the baron and had met his Albatross before. He called himthe "Croon Prince" because the black crosses painted on his wings wereof a more elaborate design than was usual. 

"You might meet the baron, Tam, " said the wing commander. "He's just offto the Cage, and he wants to say 'How-d'-ye-do. '"

Tam met the prisoner and shook hands with great solemnity. 

"Hoo air ye, sir-r?" he asked with admirable sang-froid. "A' seem toremember yer face though A' hae no' met ye--only to shoot at, an' thatspoils yeer chance o' gettin' acquainted wi' a body. "

"I think we've met before, " said the baron with a grim little smile. "Oh, before I forget, we very much appreciated your poem, Tam; there arelines in it which were quite beautiful. "

Tam flushed crimson with pleasure. 

"Thank ye, sir-r, " he blurted. "Ye couldna' 'a' made me morepleased--even if A' killit ye. "

The baron threw back his head and laughed. 

"Good-by, Tam--take care of yourself. There's a new man come to us whowill give you some trouble. "

"It's no' Mister MacMuller?" asked Tam eagerly. 

"Oh--you've heard of Captain Müller?" asked the prisoner interestedly. 

"Haird?--good Lord, mon--sir-r, A' mean--look here!"

He put his hand in his pocket and produced a worn leather case. Fromthis he extracted two or three newspaper cuttings and selected one, headed "German Official. "

"'Captain Muller, '" read Tam, "'yesterday shot doon his twenty-sixthaeroplane. '"

"That's Müller, " said the other carefully. "I can tell you nomore--except look after yourself. "

"Ha'e na doot aboot that, sir-r, " said Tam with confidence. 

He went up that afternoon in accordance with instructions received fromheadquarters to "search enemy territory west of a line from Montessierto St. Pierre le Petit. "

He made his search, and sailed down with his report as the sun reachedthe horizon. 

"A verra quiet joorney, " he complained, "A' was hopin' for a squint atMr. MacMuller, but he was sleeping like a doormoose--A' haird his snoorrisin' to heaven an' ma hairt wis sick wi' disappointed longin'. 'Hoolong, ' A' says, 'hoo long will ye avoid the doom Tam o' the Scoots hasmarked ye doon for?' There wis naw reply. "

"I've discovered Tam's weird pal, " said Blackie, coming into the messbefore lunch the next day. "He is Claude Beaumont of the AmericanSquadron--Lefèvre, the wing commander, was up to-day. ApparentlyBeaumont is an exceedingly rich young man who has equipped a wing withits own machines, hangars and repair-shop, and he flies where he likes. Look at 'em!"

They crowded out with whatever glasses they could lay their hands uponand watched the two tiny machines that circled and dipped, climbed andbanked about one another. 

 * * * * *

First one would dart away with the other in pursuit, then the chaser, asthough despairing of overtaking his quarry, would turn back. The "hare"would then turn and chase the other. 

"Have you ever seen two puppies at play?" asked Blackie. "Look at Tamchasing his tail--and neither man knows the other or has ever lookedupon his face! Isn't it weird? That's von Hansen-Bassermann's ninthsense. They can't speak--they can't even see one another properly andyet they're good pals--look at 'em. I've watched the puppies of the packgo on in exactly the same way. "

"What is Tam supposed to be doing?"

"He's watching the spotters. Tam will be down presently and we'll askDavid how he came to meet Jonathan--this business has been going on forweeks. "

Tam had received the recall signal. Beneath him he saw the two"spotters" returning home, and he waved his hand to his sportingcompanion and came round in a little more than twice his own length. Hesaw his strange friend's hand raised in acknowledgment, and watched himturn for the south. Tam drove on for a mile, then something made himlook back. 

Above his friend was a glittering white dragon-fly, and as he looked thefly darted down at the American tail. 

"Missed him!" said Tam, and swung round. He was racing with the wind attop speed and he must have been doing one hundred and twenty miles anhour, but for the fact that he was climbing at the extreme angle. He sawthe dragon-fly loop and climb and the American swing about to attack. 

But his machine was too slow--that Tam knew. Nothing short of a miraclecould save the lower machine, for the enemy had again reached thehigher position. So engrossed was he with his plan that he did not seeTam until the Scot was driving blindly to meet him--until the firstshower from Tam's Lewis gun rained on wing and fuselage. The Germanswerved in his drive and missed his proper prey. Tam was behind him andabove him, but in no position to attack. He could, and did fire a druminto the fleeing foeman, but none of the shots took effect. 

"Tairn him, Archie!" groaned Tam, and as though the earth gunners hadheard his plea, a screen of bursting shrapnel rose before thedragon-fly. He turned and nose-dived with Tam behind him, but now hisnose was for home, and Tam, after a five-mile pursuit, came round andmade for home also. Near his own lines he came up with the circling"Frenchman" and received his thanks--four fingers extended in theair--before the signaler, taking a route within the lines, streaked forhome. 

"Phew!" said Tam, shaking his head. 

"Who were you chasing?" asked Blackie. "He can go!"

"Yon's MacMuller, " said Tam, jerking his thumb at the eastern sky. "He'sa verra likeable feller--but a wee bit too canny an' a big bit too fast. Captain Blackie, sir-r, can ye no get me a machine that can flee? Ma weemachine is no' unlike a hairse, but A'm wishfu' o' providin' thecoorpse. "

"You've got the fastest machine in France, Tam, " said the captain. 

Tam nodded. 

"It's verra likely--she wis no' runnin' so sweet, " he confessed. "But, mon! That Muller! He's a braw Hoon an' A'm encouraged by the fine thingsthat the baron said aboot ma poetry. Ech! A've got a graund vairse in maheid for Mr. Muller's buryin'! Hae ye a seegair aboot ye, CaptainBlackie? A' gave ma case to the Duke of Argyle an' he has no' retairnedit. "

CHAPTER III

THE COMING OF MÜLLER

There arrived one day at the aerodrome a large packing-case addressed"Sergeant Tam. " There was no surname, though there was no excuse for thetimidity which stopped short at "Tam. " The consignor might, at least, have ventured to add a tentative and inquiring "Mac?"

Tam took the case into his little "bunk" and opened it. The stripping ofthe rough outer packing revealed a suave, unpolished cedar cabinet withtwo doors and a key that dangled from one of the knobs. Tam opened thecase after some consideration and disclosed shelf upon shelf tightlypacked with bundles of rich, brown, fragrant cigars. 

There was a card inscribed:

 "Your friend in the Merman pusher. "

"Who, " demanded Tam, "is ma low acqueentance, who dispoorts himsel' inan oot-o'-date machine?"

Young Carter, who had come in to inspect the unpacking, offered asuggestion. 

"Probably the French machine that is always coming over here to seeyou, " he said, "Mr. Thiggamy-tight, the American. "

"Ah, to be sure!" said Tam relieved. "A' thocht maybe the Kaiser hadsent me droogged seegairs--A'm an awfu' thorn in the puir laddie's side. Ye may laugh, Mister Carter, but A' reca' a case wheer a bonniedetective wi' the same name as ye'sel', though A' doot if he wis relatedto ye, was foiled by the machinations o' Ferdie the Foorger at themoment o' his triumph by the lad gieing him a seegair soaked in laud'numan' chlorofor-rm!"

He took a bundle, slipped out two cigars, offered one to his officer, after a brief but baffling examination to discover which was the worse, and lit the other. 

"They're no' so bad, " he admitted, "but yeer ain seegairs never taste sobonnie as the seegairs yeer frien's loan ye. "

"They came in time, " said Carter; "we'd started a League for theSuppression of Cigar Cadging. "

"Maybe ye thocht o' makin' me treesurer? Naw? Ah weel, a wee seegair isno muckle to gie a body wha's brocht fame an' honor to the Wing. "

"I often wonder, Tam, " said Carter, "how much you're joking and laughingat yourself when you're talking about 'Tam, the Terror of the Clouds, 'and how much you're in earnest. "

A fleeting smile flickered for a second about Tam's mouth and vanished. 

"In all guid wairks of reference, fra' Auld Morre's Almanac to theClyede River Time-Table, " he said soberly, "it's written that a Scotsmancanna joke. If A'd no talk about Tam--would ye talk aboot ye'sel's? Naw!Ye'd go oop an' doon, fichtin' an' deein' wi'oot a waird. If ye'll talkaboot ye'sel's A'll no talk aboot Tam. A' knaw ma duty, MisterCarter--A'm the offeecial boaster o' the wing an' the coor, an' whinthey bring me doon wi' a bullet in ma heid, A' hope ye'll engage anitherlike me. "

"There isn't another like you, Tam, " laughed Carter. 

"Ye dinna knaw Glasca, '" replied Tam darkly. 

 * * * * *

Lieutenant Carter went up on "a tour of duty" soon after and Tam was onthe ground to watch his departure. 

"Tam, " he shouted, before the controls were in, "I liked thatcigar--I'll take fifty from you to-night. "

"Ower ma deid body, " said Tam, puffing contentedly at the very last inchof his own; "the watch-wairds o' victory are 'threeft an' economy'!"

"I've warned you, " roared Carter, for now the engine was going. 

Tam nodded a smiling farewell as the machine skipped and ran over theground before it swooped upward into space. 

He went back to his room, but had hardly settled himself to theexamination of a new batch of blood-curdling literature before Blackiestrode in. 

"Mr. Carter's down, Tam, " he said. 

"Doon!"

Tam jumped up, a frown on his face. 

"Shot dead and fell inside our lines--go up and see if you can findMüller. "

Tam dressed slowly. Behind the mask of his face, God knows what sorrowlay, for he was fond of the boy, as he had been fond of so many boys whohad gone up in the joy and pride of their youth, and had earned by thesupreme sacrifice that sinister line in the communiques: "One of ourmachines did not return. "

He ranged the heavens that day seeking his man. He waited temptingly inreachable places and even lured one of his enemies to attack him. 

"There's something down, " said Blackie, as a flaming German aeroplaneshot downward from the clouds. "But I'm afraid it's not Müller thistime. "

It was not. Tam returned morose and uncommunicative. His anger wasincreased when the intercepted wireless came to hand in the evening:

"Captain Müller shot down his twenty-seventh aeroplane. "

That night, when the mess was sitting around after dinner, Tam appearedwith a big armful of cigars. 

"What's the matter with 'em?" asked Blackie in mock alarm. 

"They're a' that Mister Carter bocht, " said Tam untruthfully, "an' A'thocht ye'd wish to ha'e a few o' the laddie's seegairs. "

Nobody was deceived. They pooled the cigars for the mess and Tam wentback to his quarters lighter of heart. He slept soundly and was wakenedan hour before dawn by his batman. 

"'The weary roond, the deely task, '" quoted Tam, taking the steaming mugof tea from his servant's hands. "What likes the mornin', Horace?"

"Fine, Sergeant--clear sky an' all the stars are out. "

"Fine for them, " said Tam sarcastically, "they've nawthin' to do but beoot or in--A've no patience wi' the stars--puir silly bodies winkin' an'blinkin' an' doin' nae guid to mon or beastie--chuck me ma breeches an'let the warm watter rin in the bath. "

In the gray light of dawn the reliefs stood on the ground, waiting forthe word "go. "

"A' wonder what ma frien' MacMuller is thinkin' the morn?" asked Tam;"wi' a wan face an' a haggaird een, he'll be takin' a moornfu' farewello' the Croon Prince Ruppect. 

"'Ye're a brave lad, ' says the Croon Prince, 'but maybe Tam's awa'. '

"'Naw, ' says MacMuller, shakin' his heid, 'A've a presentiment thatTam's no' awa'. He'll be oop-stairs waitin' to deal his feelon's-blow. Ech!' says Mister MacMuller, 'for why did I leave ma fine job at thegas-wairks to encoonter the perils an' advairsities of aerialreconnaissance?' he says. 'Well, I'll be gettin' alang, yeer Majesty orHighness--dawn't expect ma till ye see ma. '

"He moonts his graind machine an' soon the intreepid baird-man issoorin' to the skies. He looks oop--what is that seenister for-rmlairking in the cloods? It is Tam the Comet!"

"Up, you talkative devil, " said Blackie pleasantly. 

Tam rode upward at an angle which sent so great a pressure of airagainst him that he ached in back and arm and legs to keep his balance. It was as though he were leaning back without support, with greatweights piled on his chest. He saw nothing but the pale blue skies andthe fleecy trail of high clouds, heard nothing but the numbing, maddening roar of his engines. 

He sang a little song to himself, for despite his discomfort he washappy enough. His eyes were for the engine, his ears for possibleeccentricities of running. He was pushing a straight course and knewexactly where he was by a glance at his barometer. At six thousand feethe was behind the British lines at the Bois de Colbert, at seventhousand feet he should be over Nivelle-Ancre and should turn so that hereached his proper altitude at a point one mile behind the fire trenchesand somewhere in the region of the Bois de Colbert again. 

The aeronometer marked twelve thousand feet when he leveled the machineand began to take an interest in military affairs. The sky was clear ofmachines, with the exception of honest British spotters lumbering alonglike farm laborers to their monotonous toil. A gentlemanly fightingmachine was doing "stunts" over by Serray and there was no sign of anenemy. Tam looked down. He saw a world of tiny squares intersected bythin white lines. These were main roads. He saw little dewdrops of wateroccurring at irregular intervals. They were really respectable-sizedlakes. 

Beneath him were two irregular scratches against the dull green-brownof earth that stretched interminably north and south. They ran parallelat irregular distances apart. Sometimes they approached so that itseemed that they touched. In other places they drew apart from oneanother for no apparent reason and there was quite a respectabledistance of ground between them. These were the trench lines, and everynow and again on one side or the other a puff of dirty brown smoke wouldappear and hang like a pall before the breeze sent it streaming slowlybackward. 

Sometimes the clouds of smoke would be almost continuous, but theseshell-bursts were not confined to the front lines. From where Tam hunghe could see billowing smoke clouds appear in every direction. Farbehind the enemy's lines at the great road junctions, in the low-roofedbilleting villages, on the single-track railways, they came and went. 

The thunder of his engines drowned all sound so he could not hear thenever-ceasing booming of the guns, the never-ending crash of explodingshell. Once he saw a heavy German shell in the air--he glimpsed it atthat culminating point of its trajectory where the shell begins to loseits initial velocity and turns earthward again. It was a curiousexperience, which many airmen have had, and quite understandable, sincethe howitzer shell rises to a tremendous height before it follows thedescending curve of its flight. 

He paid a visit to the only cloud that had any pretensions to being acloud, and found nothing. So he went over the German lines. He passedfar behind the fighting front and presently came above a certainconfusion of ground which marked an advance depot. He pressed his foottwice on a lever and circled. Looking down he saw two red bursts offlame and a mass of smoke. He did not hear the explosions of the bombshe had loosed, because it was impossible to hear anything but the angry"Whar--r--r--!" of his engines. 

A belligerent is very sensitive over the matter of bombed depots, andTam, turning homeward, looked for the machines which would assuredlyrise to intercept him. Already the Archies were banging away at him, anda fragment of shell had actually struck his fuselage. But he was notbothering about Archies. He did swerve toward a battery skilfully hiddenbehind a hayrick and drop two hopeful bombs, but he scarcely troubled tomake an inspection of the result. 

 * * * * *

Then before him appeared his enemy. Tam had the sun at his back andsecured a good view of the Müller machine. It was the great whitedragon-fly he had seen two days before. Apparently Müller had otherbusiness on hand. He was passing across Tam's course diagonally--and hewas climbing. 

Tam grinned. He was also pushing upward, for he knew that his enemy, seemingly oblivious to his presence, had sighted him and was gettinginto position to attack. Tam's engine was running beautifully, he couldfeel a subtle resolution in the "pull" of it; it almost seemed that thisthing of steel was possessed of a soul all its own. He was keeping levelwith the enemy, on a parallel course which enabled him to keep his eyeupon the redoubtable fighter. 

Then, without warning, the German banked over and headed straight forTam, his machine-gun stuttering. Tam turned to meet him. They were lessthan half a mile from each other and were drawing together at the rateof two hundred miles an hour. There were, therefore, just ten secondsseparating them. What maneuver Müller intended is not clear. Heknew--and then he realized in a flash what Tam was after. 

Round he went, rocking like a ship at sea. A bullet struck his wheel andsent the smashed wood flying. He nose-dived for his own lines and Tamglared down after him. 

Müller reached his aerodrome and was laughing quietly when hedescended. 

"I met Tam, " he said to his chief; "he tried to ram me at sixteenthousand feet--Oh, yes. I came down, but--_ich habe das nichtgewollt!_--I did not will it!"

Tam returned to his headquarters full of schemes and bright "thochts. "

"You drove him down?" said the delighted Blackie. "Why, Tam, it's fine!Müller never goes down--you've broken one of his traditions. "

"A' wisht it was ain of his heids, " said Tam. "A' thocht for aboot threeseconds he was acceptin' the challenge o' the Glasca' Ganymede--A'm no'so sure o' Ganymede; A' got him oot of the sairculatin' library an' hewas verra dull except the bit wheer he went oop in the air on the backof an eagle an' dropped his whustle. But MacMuller wasn't so full o'ficht as a' that. "

He walked away, but stopped and came back. 

"A'm a Wee Kirker, " he said. "A' remembered it when A' met MacMuller. Though A'm no particular hoo A'm buried, A'm entitled to a Wee Kirkmeenister. Mony's the time A've put a penny i' the collection. It sairgrievit me to waste guid money, but me auld mither watchit me like acat, an' 'twere as much as ma life was worth to pit it in ma breechespocket. "

 * * * * *

Tam spent the flying hours of the next day looking for his enemy, butwithout result. The next day he again drew blank, and on the third daytook part in an organized raid upon enemy communications, fighting hisway back from the interior of Belgium single-handed, for he had allowedhimself to be "rounded out" and had to dispose of two enemy machinesbefore he could go in pursuit of the bombing squadrons. In consequence, he had to meet and reject the attentions of every ruffled enemy that thebombers and their bullies had fought in passing. 

At five o'clock in the evening he dropped from the heavens in onestraight plummet dive which brought him three miles in a little underone minute. 

"Did you meet Müller?" asked Captain Blackie; "he's about--he shot downMr. Grey this morning whilst you were away. "

"Mr. Gree? Weel, weel!" said Tam, shaking, "puir soul--he wis a verraguid gentleman--wit' a gay young hairt. "

"I hope Tam will pronounce my epitaph, " said Blackie to Bolt, theobserver; "he doesn't know how to think unkindly of his pals. "

"Tam will get Müller, " said Bolt. "I saw the scrap the other day--Tamwas prepared to kill himself if he could bring him down. He was out fora collision, I'll swear, and Müller knew it and lost his nerve for thefight. That means that Müller is hating himself and will go running forTam at the first opportunity. "

"Tam shall have his chance. The new B. I. 6 is ready and Tam shall haveit. "

Now every airman knows the character of the old B. I. 5. She was a fastmachine, could rise quicker than any other aeroplane in the world. Shecould do things which no other machine could do, and could also behaveas no self-respecting aeroplane would wish to behave. For example, shewas an involuntary "looper. " For no apparent reason at all she wouldsuddenly buck like a lunatic mustang. In these frenzies she would answerno appliance and obey no other mechanical law than the law ofgravitation. 

Tam had tried B. I. 5, and had lived to tell the story. There is alegend that he reached earth flying backward and upside down, but thatis probably without foundation. Then an ingenious American had taken B. I. 5 in hand and had done certain things to her wings, her tail, herfuselage and her engine and from the chaos of her remains was born B. I. 6, not unlike her erratic mother in appearance, but viceless. 

 * * * * *

Tam learned of his opportunity without any display of enthusiasm. 

"A' doot she's na guid, " he said. "Captain Blackie, sir-r, A've got maain idea what B. I. Stands for. It's no complimentary to the inventor. If sax is better, than A'm goin' to believe in an auld sayin'. "

"What is that, Tam?"

"'Theer's safety in numbers, '" said Tam, "an' the while A'm on thesubject of leeterature A'd like yeer opinion on a vairse A' made abootMr. MacMuller. "

He produced a folded sheet of paper, opened it, and read, "Amidst the seelance of the stars He fell, yon dooty mon o' Mars. The angels laffit To see this gaillant baird-man die. 'At lairst! At lairst!' the angels cry, 'We've ain who'll teach us hoo to fly-- Thanks be, he's strafit!'"

"Fine, " said Blackie with a smile, "but suppose you're 'strafit'instead?"

"Pit the wee pome on ma ain wreath, " said Tam simply; "'t 'ill be true. "

CHAPTER IV

THE STRAFING OF MÜLLER

On the earth, rain was falling from gray and gloomy clouds. Above thoseclouds the sun shone down from a blue sky upon a billowing mass thatbore a resemblance to the uneven surface of a limitless plain of lather. High, but not too high above cloud-level, a big white Albatross circledserenely, its long, untidy wireless aerial dangling. 

The man in the machine with receivers to his ears listened intently forthe faint "H D" which was his official number. Messages hecaught--mostly in English, for he was above the British lines. 

"Nine--Four.... Nine--four ... Nine--four, " called somebody insistently. That was a "spotter" signaling a correction of range, then.... "Stopwhere you are .... K L B Q.... Bad light.... Signal to X O 73 lastshot.... Repeat your signal .... No.... Bad light.... Sorry--badlight.... Stay where you are.... "

He guessed some, could not follow others. The letter-groups were, ofcourse, code messages indicating the distance shells were bursting fromtheir targets. The apologies were easily explained, for the light wasvery bad indeed. 

"Tam ... Müller.... Above ... El. "

The man in the machine tried the lock of his gun and began to getinterested. 

Now his eyes were fixed upon the rolling, iridescent cloud-mass below. From what point would the fighting machine emerge?

He climbed up a little higher to be on the safe side. Then, from avalley of mist half a mile away, a tiny machine shot up, shining likeburnished silver in the rays of the afternoon sun, for Tam had driven upin a drizzle of rain, and wings and fuselage were soaking wet. 

The watcher above rushed to the attack. He was perhaps a thousand yardsabove his enemy and had certain advantages--a fact which Tam realized. He ceased to climb, flattened and went skimming along the top of thecloud, darting here and there with seeming aimlessness. His pursuerrapidly reviewed the situation. 

To dive down upon his prey would mean that in the event of missing hiserratic moving foe, the attacker would plunge into the cloud fog and beat a disadvantage. At the same time, he would risk it. Suddenly up wenthis tail. But Tam had vanished in the mist, for as he saw the tail goup, he had followed suit, and nothing in the world dives like a B. I. 6. 

No sooner was he out of sight of his attacker than he brought the noseof the machine up again and began a lightning climb to sunshine. He wasthe first to reach "open country" and he looked round for Müller. 

That redoubtable fighter reappeared in front and below him and Tamdived for him. Müller's nose went down and back to his hiding-place hedived. Tam corrected his level and swooped upward again. There was nosign of Captain Müller. Tam cruised up and down, searching the cloud forhis enemy. 

He was doing three things at once: He was looking, he was fittinganother drum to his gun, and he was controlling the flight of hismachine, when "chk-chk-chk" said the wireless, and Tam listened, screwing his face into a grimace signifying at once the difficulty ofhearing, and his apprehension that he might lose a word of what was tofollow. 

"L Q--L Q, " said the receiver. 

"Noo, " said Tam in perplexity, "is 'L Q' meanin' that A' ocht to rin forma life or is it 'continue the guid wairk'?"

Arguing that his work was invisible from the earth and that a moreurgent interpretation was to be put upon the message, he turned westwardand dived; not, however, before he had seen over his shoulder a dozenenemy machines come flashing up from the clouds. 

"Haird cheese!" said Tam; "a' the auld cats aboot an' the wee moosie'sawa'!"

He had intended going home, but a new and bright thought struck him. Heturned his machine and pushed straight through the cloud the way he hadcome. He knew they had seen him disappearing and, airman like, theywould remain awhile to bask in the sunlight and "dry off. "

 * * * * *

As a general rule Tam hated clouds. You could not tell whether you wereflying right side up or upside down, and he had always a curious senseof nervousness that he would collide with something. Yet, for once, hedrove through the swirling "smoke" with a sense of joyous anticipation, and presently began to rise gently, keeping his eyes aloft to detect thefirst thinning of the fog. Presently he saw the sunlight reflected onthe upper stratas and began to climb steeply. His machine ripped outinto the sun, a fierce, roaring little fury. 

Not a hundred yards away was a fighting machine. 

"_Ticka--ticka--ticka--ticka--tick!_" said Tam's machine-gun. 

Tam's staring blue eyes were on the sights--he could not miss. The pilotwent limp in his seat, the observer took his hand from his gun to gripthe controls. Too late; the wide-winged fighter skidded like a motorbuson a greasy road and fell into the clouds sideways. 

But now the enemy was coming at him from all points of the compass. 

"Dinna let oor pairtin' grieve ye!" sang Tam and dropped straightthrough the clouds into the rain and a dim view of a bedraggled earth. 

"There's Burley, " said Blackie, clad in a long oilskin and a sou'westeras he checked off the home-coming adventurers. "Do you ever notice howhis machine always looks lop-sided? There's Galbraith and Mosen--who'sthat fellow on the Morane? Oh, yes, that's Parker-Smith. H'm!"

"What's wrong?"

"Where's Tam--I hope those beggars didn't catch him--There he is, thedevil!"

Tam was doing stunts. He was side-slipping, nose-diving and looping--hewas, in fine, setting up all those stresses which a machine underextraordinary circumstances might have to endure. 

"He always does that with a new machine, sir, " said Captain Blackie'scompanion. "I've never understood why, because if he found a weak place, he'd be too dead for the information to be of any service to him. "

 * * * * *

Later, when Tam condescended to bring himself to earth, Blackie askedhim. 

"Why do you do fool stunts, Tam? The place to test the machine is on theground?"

"Ye're wrong, sir-r, " said Tam quietly; "the groond's a fine place totest a wee perambulator or a motor-car or a pair of buits--but it's no'the place to test an aeroplane. The aeroplane an' the submarine maun betried oot in their native eelements. "

"But suppose you _did_ succeed in breaking something--and you went toglory?"

"Aye, " said Tam quietly, "an' suppose A'm goin' oop wi' matchlesscoorage to save ma frien's frae the ravishin' Hoon an' ma machine playshookey? Would it no' be worse for a' concairned, than if A' smash oop bymesel'?"

"Did you see Müller?"

"In the clouds. A' left him hauldin' a committee-meetin', CaptainMacMuller in the cheer. 

"'Resolvit, ' says the cheerman, 'that this meetin', duly an' trulyassembled, passes a hairty vote o' thanks to Tam o' the Scoots, theMageecian o' the Air-r, for the grand fight he made against a superiorenemy--Carried. 

"'Resolvit, ' says the cheerman, 'that we'll no' ta' onny more risk, butconfine oor attentions to strafin' spotters--"

"Carried wi' acclaimation. The meetin' then adjoorned to enquire aftermachine noomber sax, eight, sax, two, strafed in the execution of maduty. "

It seemed almost as though Tam's words were prophetic, for the next daySmyth and Curzon were attacked whilst "spotting" for the "heavies" andfell in flames in No-Man's Land. They got Smyth in during the night andrushed him back to a base hospital; but Curzon was dead before themachine reached the ground. 

The same morning Tam read in the German "Official":

"In the course of the day Captain Müller shot down his thirtieth enemyaeroplane, which fell before the English lines. "

"It were no' the English lines, but the Argyll an' SootherlandHielanders' lines, " complained Tam. "Thairty machines yon Muller ha'strafit. Weel, weel!"

He went to his room very thoughtful, and the day following, being an"off" day, he spent between the machine-shop and the hangar where the B. I. 6 reposed. It must never be forgotten that Tam was a bornmechanician. To him the machine had a body, a soul, a voice, and atemperament. Noises which engines made had a peculiar significance toTam. He not only could tell you how they were behaving, but how theywould be likely to behave after two hours' running. He knew all thesymptoms of their mysterious diseases and he was versed in theirdietary. He "fed" his own engines, explored his own tanks, greased andcleaned with his own hands every delicate part of the frail machinery. 

There was neither strut nor stay, bolt nor screw, that he did not knowor had not studied, tested or replaced. He cleaned his own gun andexamined, leather duster in hand, every round of ammunition he took up. He left little to chance and never went out to attack but with a "plan, an altairnitive plan an'--an open mind. "

And now since Müller must be settled with, Tam was more than careful. 

The difficulty about aeroplanes is that they look very much like oneanother. Tam fought indecisively three big white Albatross machinesbefore a Fokker hawk darted down from the shelter of a cloud-wraith andrevealed itself as the temporary preoccupation of Captain Müller. 

The encounter may be told in Tam's own words. 

"I' the ruthless pairsuit of his duty, Tam was patrollin' at a height o'twelve thoosand feet, his mind filled wi' beautifu' thochts abootpay-day, when a cauld shiver passes doon the dauntless spine o' the weehero. 'Tis a preemonition or warnin' o' peeril. He speers oop an' doonabsint-mindedly fingerin' the mechanism of his seelver-plated Lewis gun. There was nawthing in sicht, nawthing to mar the glories of the morn. 'Can A' be mistaken?' asks Tam. 'Noo! A thoosand times noo!' an' wi'these fatefu' wairds, he began his peerilous climb. Maircifu' Heavens!What's yon? 'Tis the mad Muller! Sweeft as the eagle fa'ing upon hisprey, fa's MacMuller, a licht o' joy in his een, his bullets twangin'like hairp-strings. But Tam the Tempest is no' bothered. Cal-lm an'a'most majeestic in his sang-frow--a French expression--he leps gaily tothe fray--an' here A' am!"

"But, Tam, " protested Galbraith, "that's a rotten story. What happenedafter the lep--did you get up to him?"

"A' didna lep oop, " said Tam gravely; "A' lep doon--it wis no' the timeto ficht--it wis the time to flee--an' A'm a fleein' mon. "

That he would deliberately shrink an issue with his enemy wasunthinkable. And yet he rather avoided than sought Müller after thisencounter. 

 * * * * *

One afternoon he came to Galbraith's quarters. Galbraith was rich andyoung and a great sportsman. 

"Can A' ha'e a waird wi' ye?" asked Tam mysteriously. 

"Surely, " said the boy. "Come in--you want a cigar, Tam!" he accused. 

"Get awa' ahint me, Satan, " said Tam piously. "A've gi'en oop cadgin'seegairs an' A' beg ye no' tae tempit a puir weak body. Just puit thebox doon whair A' can reach it an' mebbe A'll help mesel' absintminded. A' came--mon, this is a bonnie smawk! Ye maun pay an awfu' lot forthese. Twa sheelin's each! Ech! It's sinfu' wi' so many puir souls inneed--A'll tak' a few wi' me when A' go, to distreebute to the sufferin'mechanics. Naw, it is na for seegairs A'm beggin', na this time--butha'e ye an auld suit o' claes ye'll no be wantin'?"

"A suit? Good Lord, yes, Tam, " said Galbraith, jumping down from thetable on which he was seated. "Do you want it for yourself?"

"Well, " replied Tam cautiously, "A' do an' A' doon't--it's for mafrien', Fitzroy McGinty, the celebrated MacMuller mairderer. "

Galbraith looked at him with laughter in his eyes. 

"Fitzroy McGinty? And who the devil is Fitzroy McGinty?"

Tam cleared his throat

"Ma frien' Fitzroy McGinty is, like Tam, an oornament o' the RoyalFleein' Coor. Oor hero was borr-rn in affluent saircumstances hisfaither bein' the laird o' Maclacity, his mither a Fitzroy o' Soosex. Fitz McGinty lived i' a graund castle wi' thoosands o' sairvants to waiton him, an' he ate his parritch wi' a deemond spune. A' seemed rawsy forthe wee boy, but yin day, accused o' the mairder o' the butler an' thebairglary of his brithers' troosers, he rin frae hame, crossin' toAmeriky, wheer he foon' employment wi' a rancher as coo-boy. Whilstthere, his naturally adventurous speerit brocht him into contact wi'Alkali Pete the Road-Agent--ye ken the feller that haulds oop theDeadville stage?"

"Oh, I ken him all right, " said the patient Galbraith; "but, honestly, Tam--who is your friend?"

"Ma frien', Angus McCarthy?"

"You said Fitzroy McGinty just now. "

"Oh, aye, " said Tam hastily, "'twas ain of his assoomed names. "

"You're a humbug--but here's the kit. Is that of use?"

"Aye. "

Tam gathered the garments under his arm and took a solemn farewell. 

"Ye'll be meetin' Rabbie again--A' means Angus, Mr. Galbraith--but A'dbe glad if ye'd no mention to him that he's weerin' yeer claes. "

He went to a distant store and for the rest of the day, with theassistance of a mechanic, he was busy creating the newest recruit to theRoyal Flying Corps. Tam was thorough and inventive. He must not onlystuff the old suit with wood shavings and straw, but he must unstuff itagain, so that he might thread a coil of pliable wire to give the figurethe necessary stiffness. 

"Ye maun hae a backbone if ye're to be an obsairver, ma mannie, " saidTam, "an' noo for yeer bonnie face--Horace, will ye pass me theplaister o' Paris an' A'll gi' ye an eemitation o' Michael Angy-low, thecelebrated face-maker. "

His work was interluded with comments on men and affairs--the verynature of his task brought into play that sense of humor and thatstimulation of fancy to which he responded with such readiness. 

"A' doot whither A'll gi'e ye a moostache, " said Tam, surveying hishandiwork, "it's no necessairy to a fleein'-mon, but it's awfu' temptin'to an airtist. "

He scratched his head thoughtfully. 

"Ye should be more tanned, Angus, " he said and took up the varnishbrush. 

At last the great work was finished. The dummy was lifelike even outsideof the setting which Tam had planned. From the cap (fastened to theplaster head by tacks) to the gloved hands, the figure was all that anofficer of the R. F. C. Might be, supposing he were pigeon-toed and limpof leg. 

 * * * * *

The next morning Tam called on Blackie in his office and asked to beallowed to take certain liberties with his machine, a permission which, when it was explained, was readily granted. He went up in the afternoonand headed straight for the enemy's lines. He was flying at aconsiderable height, and Captain Müller, who had been on a joy ride toanother sector of the line and had descended to his aerodrome, wasinformed that a very high-flying spotter was treating Archie fire withcontempt and had, moreover, dropped random bombs which, by the greatestluck in the world, had blown up a munition reserve. 

"I'll go up and scare him off, " said Captain Müller. He focussed atelescope upon the tiny spotter. 

"It looks more like a fast scout than a spotter, " he said, "yet thereare obviously two men in her. "

He went up in a steep climb, his powerful engines roaring savagely. Ittook him longer to reach his altitude than he had anticipated. He wasstill below the alleged spotter with its straw-stuffed observer whenTam dived for him. 

All that the nursing of a highly trained mechanic could give to anengine, all of precision that a cold blue eye and a steady hand couldlend to a machine-gun, all that an unfearing heart could throw into thatone wild, superlative fling, Tam gave. The engine pulled to its lastounce, the wings and stays held to the ultimate stress. 

"Tam!" said Müller to himself and smiled, for he knew that death hadcome. 

He fired upward and banked over--then he waved his hand in blind salute, though he had a bullet in his heart and was one with the nothingnessabout him. 

Tam swung round and stared fiercely as Müller's machine fell. He saw itstrike the earth, crumple and smoke. 

"Almichty God, " said the lips of Tam, "look after that yin! He wis abonnie fichter an' had a gay hairt, an' he knaws richt weel A' had nomalice agin him--Amen!"

CHAPTER V

ANNIE--THE GUN

"A've noticed, " said Tam, "a deesposition in writin' classes to omit thenecessary bits of scenery that throw up the odious villainy of thefactor, or the lonely vairtue of the Mill Girl. A forest maiden wi'ootthe forest or a hard-workin' factory lass wi'oot a chimney-stalk, is nomore convincin' than a seegair band wi'oot the seegair, or an empty payenvelope. "

"Why this disquisition on the arts, Tam?" asked Captain Blackie testily. 

Three o'clock in the morning, and freezing at that, a dark aerodrome andthe ceaseless drum of guns--neither the time, the place nor the idealaccompaniment to philosophy, you might think. Blackie was as nervous asa squadron commander may well be who has sent a party on a midnightstunt, and finds three o'clock marked on the phosphorescent dial of hiswatch and not so much as a single machine in sight. 

"Literature, " said Tam easily, "is a science or a disease very much likeairmanship. 'Tis all notes of excl'mation an' question mairks, with onefull stop an' several semi-comatose crashes--!"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, shut up, Tam!" said Blackie savagely. "Haven'tyou a cigar to fill that gap in your face?"

"Aye, " said Tam calmly, "did ye no' smell it? It's one o' young MasterTaunton's Lubricatos an' A'm smokin' it for an endurance test--they'reno' so bad, remembering the inexperience an' youth o' ma wee frien'--"

Blackie turned. 

"Tam, " he said shortly, "I'm just worried sick about those fellows and Iwish--"

"Oh, them, " said Tam in an extravagant tone of surprise, "they're comin'back, Captain Blackie, sir-r--a' five, one with an engine that'srunnin' no' so sweet--that'll be Mister Gordon's, A'm thinkin'. "

Captain Blackie turned to the other incredulously. 

"You can hear them?" he asked. "I hear nothing. "

"It's the smell of Master Taunton's seegair in your ears, " said Tam. "For the past five minutes A've been listenin' to the gay music of theirtractors, bummin' like the mill hooter on a foggy morn--there they are!"

High in the dark heavens a tiny speck of red light glowed, lingered amoment and vanished. Then another, then a green that faded to white. 

"Thank the Lord!" breathed Blackie. "Light up!"

"There's time, " said Tam, "yon 'buses are fifteen thoosand up. "

They came roaring and stuttering to earth, five monstrous shapes, andpassed to the hands of their mechanics. 

"Tam heard you, " said Blackie to the young leader, stripping his glovesthoughtfully by the side of his machine. "Who had the engine trouble?"

"Gordon, " chuckled the youth. "That 'bus is a--"

"Hec, sir!" said Tam and put his hands to his ears. 

They had walked across to the commander's office. 

"Well--what luck had you?" asked Blackie. 

Lieutenant Taunton made a very wry face. 

"I rather fancy we got the aerodrome--we saw something burningbeautifully as we turned for home, but Fritz has a new searchlightinstallation _and_ something fierce in the way of Archies. There's a newbattery and unless I'm mistaken a new kind of gun--that's why weclimbed. They angled the lights and got our range in two calendarseconds and they never left us alone. There was one gun in particularthat was almost undodgable. I stalled and side-slipped, climbed andnose-dived, but the devil was always on the spot. "

"Hum, " said Blackie thoughtfully, "did you mark the new battery?"

"X B 84 as far as I could judge, " said the other and indicated a tinysquare on the big map which covered the side of the office; "it wasn'tworth while locating, for I fancy that my particular friend wasmobile--Tam, look out for the Demon Gunner of Bocheville. "

"It is computed by state--by state--by fellers that coont, " said Tam, "that it takes seven thoosand shells to hit a flyin'-man--by my ownelaborate system of calculation, A' reckon that A've five thoosandshells to see before A' get the one that's marked wi' ma name an'address. "

And he summarily dismissed the matter from his mind for the night. Forty-eight hours later he found the question of A-A gunnery a problemwhich was not susceptible to such cavalier treatment. 

He came back to the aerodrome this afternoon, shooting down from agreat height in one steep run, and found the whole of the squadronwaiting for him. Tam descended from the fuselage very solemnly, affecting not to notice the waiting audience, and with a little salute, which was half a friendly nod, he would have made his way to squadronheadquarters had not Blackie hailed him. 

"Come on, Tam, " he smiled. "Why this modesty?"

"Sir-r?" said Tam with well-simulated surprise. 

"Let us hear about the gun. "

"Ah, the gun, " said Tam as though it were some small matter which he hadoverlooked in the greater business of the day. "Well, now, sir-r, thatis _some_ gun, and after A've had a sup o' tea A'll tell you the storyof ma reckless exploits. "

He walked slowly over to his mess, followed by the badinage of hissuperiors. 

"You saw it, Austin, didn't you?" Blackie turned to the young airman. 

"Oh, yes, sir. I was spotting for a howitzer battery and they werefiring like a gas-pipe, by the way, right outside the clock--I can'tmake up my mind what is the matter with that battery. "

"Never mind about the battery, " interrupted Blackie; "tell us aboutTam. "

"I didn't see it all, " said Austin, "and I didn't know it was Tam untillater. The first thing I saw was one of our fellows 'zooming' up at arare bat all on his lonely. I didn't take much notice of that. I thoughtit was one of our fellows on a stunt. But presently I could see Archiegetting in his grand work. It was a battery somewhere on the Lille road, and it was a scorcher, for it got his level first pop. Instead of goingon, the 'bus started circling as though he was enjoying the 'shrap'bath. As far as I could see there were four guns on him, but three ofthem were wild and late. You could see their bursts over him and underhim, but the fourth was a terror. It just potted away, always at hislevel. If he went up it lived with him; if he dropped it was alongsideof him. It was quaint to see the other guns correcting their range, butalways a bit after the fair. Of course, I knew it was Tam and I somehowknew he was just circling round trying out the new gun. How he escaped, the Lord knows!"

Faithful to his promise, Tam returned. 

"If any of you gentlemen have a seegair--" he asked. 

Half a dozen were offered to him and he took them all. 

"A'll no' offend any o' ye, " he explained, "by refusin' yourhospitality. They mayn't be good seegairs, as A've reason to know, butA'll smoke them all in the spirit they are geeven. "

He sat down on a big packing-case, tucked up his legs under him andpulled silently at the glowing Perfecto. Then he began:

"At eleven o'clock in the forenoon, " said Tam, settling himself to theagreeable task, "in or about the vicinity of La Bas a solitary airmanmicht ha' been sighted or viewed, wingin' his way leisurely across thefleckless blue o' the skies. Had ye been near enough ye would haveobsairved a smile that played aroond his gay young face. In his blueeyes was a look o' deep thought. Was he thinkin' of home, of his humblecot in the shadow of Ben Lomond? He was not, for he never had a home inthe shadow of Ben Lomond. Was he thinkin' sadly of the meanness o' hissuperior officer who had left one common seegair in his box and hadsaid, 'Tam, go into my quarters and help yourself to the smokes'?"

"Tam, I left twenty, " said an indignant voice, "and when I came to lookfor them they were all gone. "

"A've no doot there's a bad character amongst ye, " said Tam gravely; "A'only found three, and two of 'em were bad, or it may have been four. No, sir-rs, he was no' thinkin' of airthly things. Suddenly as he zoomed tothe heavens there was a loud crack; and lookin' over, the young herodiscovered that life was indeed a bed of shrapnel and that more was onits way, for at every point of the compass Archie was belching forthdeath and destruction"--he paused and rubbed his chin--"Archie A' didn'tmind, " he said with a little chuckle, "but Archie's little sister, sir-r, she was fierce! She never left me. A' stalled an' looped, A'stood on ma head and sat on ma tail. A' banked to the left and to theright. A' spiraled up and A' nose-dived doon, and she stayed wi' mecloser than a sister. For hoors, it seemed almost an etairnity, Tam o'the Scoots hovered with impunity above the inferno--"

"But why, Tam?" asked Blackie. "Was it sheer swank on your part?"

"It was no swank, " said Tam quietly. "Listen, Captain Blackie, sir-r;four guns were bangin' and bangin' at me, and one of them was a goodone--too good to live. Suppose A' had spotted that one--A' could havedropped and bombed him. "

Blackie was frowning. 

"I think we'll leave the Archies alone, " he said; "you have never showna disposition to go gunning for Archies before, Tam. "

Tam shook his head. 

"It is a theery A' have, sir-r, " he said; "yon Archie, the new feller, is being tried oot. He is different to the rest. Mr. Austin had him theother night. Mr. Colebeck was nearly brought doon yesterday morn. Everyone in the squadron has had a taste of him, and every one in thesquadron has been lucky. "

 * * * * *

"That is a fact, " said Austin; "this new gun is a terror. "

"But he has no' hit any one, " insisted Tam; "it's luck that he has no', but it's the sort of luck that the flyin'-man has. To-morrow the luckmay be all the other way, and he'll bring doon every one he aims at. Maidea is that to-morrow we've got to get him, because if he makes good, in a month's time you won't be able to fly except at saxteen thoosandfeet. "

A light broke in on Blackie. 

"I see, Tam, " he said; "so you were just hanging around to discouragehim?"

"A' thocht it oot, " said Tam. "A' pictured ma young friend William vonArchie shootin' and shootin', surroonded by technical expairts with longwhiskers and spectacles. 'It's a rotten gun you've got, Von, ' says they;'can ye no' bring doon one wee airman?' 'Gi' me anither thoosand shots, 'gasps Willie, 'and there'll be a vacant seat in the sergeant's mess;'and so the afternoon wears away and the landscape is littered wi' shellcases, but high in the air, glitterin' in the dyin' rays of the sun, sits the debonair scoot, cool, resolute, and death-defyin'. "

That night the wires between the squadron headquarters and G. H. Q. Hummed with information and inquiry. A hundred aerodromes, from theNorth Sea to the Vosges, reported laconically that Annie, the vicioussister of Archie, was unknown. 

 * * * * *

Tam lay in his bunk that night devouring the latest of his literaryacquisitions. 

Tam's "bunk" was a ten-by-eight structure lined with varnished pine. Thefurniture consisted of a plain canvas bed, a large black box, ahome-made cupboard and three book-shelves which ran the width of thewall facing the door. These were filled with thin, paper-covered"volumes" luridly colored. Each of these issues consisted of thirty-twopages of indifferent print, and since the authors aimed at a maximumeffect with an economy of effort, there were whole pages devoted todialogue of a staccato character. 

He lay fully dressed upon the bed. A thick curtain retained the lightwhich came from an electric bulb above his head and his mind wasabsorbed with the breathless adventures of his cowboy hero. 

Now and again he would drop the book to his chest and gaze reflectivelyat the ceiling, for, all the time he had been reading, one-half of hisbrain had been steadily pursuing a separate course of inquiry of itsown; and while the other half had wandered pleasantly through deep andsunless gulches or had clambered on the back of a surefooted bronco upprecipitous mountain-slopes, the mental picture he conjured was in thenature of a double exposure, for ever there loomed a dim figure of amysterious anti-aircraft gun. He took up the book for about the tenthtime and read two lines, when a bell in the corner of the room rangthree times. Three short thrills of sound and then silence. 

Tam slipped from the bed, lifted down his leather jacket from the walland struggled into it. He took up his padded helmet, switched off thelight and, opening the door, stepped out into the darkness. Buttoninghis jacket as he went, he made his way across by a short cut to thehangars and found Blackie surrounded by half a dozen officers already onthe spot. 

"Is that you, Tam? I want you to go up--there she goes!"

They listened. 

_"Whoom!"_

"Fritz has sneaked across in the dark and is industriously bombingbillets, " he said; "he dodged the Creeper's Patrol. Go and see if youcan find him. "

_"Whoom!"_

The sound of the bursting bomb was nearer. 

"'Tis safer in the air, " said Tam as he swung into his fuselage. "Contact!"

A few seconds later, with a roar, the machine disappeared into the blackwall of darkness. 

It came back in less than a minute well overhead and Blackie, straininghis eyes upward, followed its progress against the stars until it meltedinto the sky. 

_"Whoom!"_

"He is looking for us, " said Blackie; "stand by your hangars. "

To the northwest two swift beams of light were sweeping the skyurgently. From a point farther south sprang another beam. 

"If Fritz doesn't locate us now he ought to be shot, " growled Blackie. 

But apparently Fritz had overshot the aerodrome, for the next explosioncame a mile to the west. 

"Tam will see the burst, " said young Austin and Blackie nodded. 

There were no other explosions and they waited for ten minutes, then--

"_Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka!_"

The sound came from right overhead. 

"Tam's got him, " whooped Blackie; "the devil must have been flying low. "

"_Tocka-tocka-tocka-tocka!_"

"That's Fritz, " said Blackie, "and that's Tam again. "

Then one of the waving searchlights strayed in their direction, and downits white beam for the space of a hundred yards slid a ghostly whitemoth. It dipped suddenly and fell out of the light and in its wake, butabove, burst three little green balls of fire--Tam's totem andsign-manual. 

"Landing lights!" roared Blackie, and they had hardly been switched onwhen Tam swooped to the ground. 

In the meantime a motor-car had gone swiftly in the direction of thefallen Hun machine. 

"He crashed, " said Tam breathlessly, as he jumped to the ground; "A'mafeered the puir body is hurt. "

But the poor body was neither hurt nor frightened, nor indeed had hecrashed. 

In point of fact he had made a very good landing, considering thedisadvantages under which he labored. They brought him into themess-room, a tall stripling with shaven head and blue laughing eyes, andhe took the coffee they offered him with a courteous little bow and aclick of his heels. 

"Baron von Treutzer, " the prisoner introduced himself. 

"I was afraid that a thousand meters was too low to fly, even at night, "he said; "I suppose I didn't by any lucky chance get you. By the way, who brought me down? Tam?"

"Tam it was, " said Blackie cheerfully, "and you didn't get us. "

"I am sorry, " said the baron. "May I ask you whether it was Tam who wasdoing stunts over our new gun?"

Blackie nodded. 

"I thought it was. They have been cursing him all the evening--I mean, of course, the technical people, " he added hastily, as though toemphasize the fact that the Imperial Air Service was above resentment. "Naturally they swore you had some kind of armor on your machine, andthough we told them it was most unlikely, they insisted--you know whatobstinate people these manufacturers are; in fact, they say that theysaw it glitter, " he laughed softly. "You see, " he went on, "they don'tunderstand this game. They can not understand why their wonderful"--hecorrected himself swiftly--"why their gun did not get you. It would havebeen a terrible disappointment if they had brought you down anddiscovered that you were not sheeted in some new patent shell-proofsteel. "

"Oh, aye, " said Tam, and he smiled, which was an unusual thing for Tamto do, and then he laughed, a deep, bubbling chuckle of laughter, whichwas even more unusual. "Oh, aye, " he said again and was still laughingwhen he went out of the little anteroom. 

He did not go back to his bunk, but made his way to the workshop, andwhen he went up the next morning he carried with him, carefully strappedto the fuselage, a sheet of tin which he had industriously cut andpunched full of rivet-holes in the course of the night. 

"And what are you going to do with that, Tam?" asked Blackie. 

"That is ma new armor, " said Tam solemnly. "'Tis a grand invention Imade out of my own head. "

"But what is the idea?" asked Blackie. 

"Captain Blackie, sir-r, " said Tam, "I have a theery, and if you have noobjection I'd like to try it oot. "

"Go ahead, " said Blackie with a perplexed frown. 

At half-past eleven, Tam, having roved along the German front-linetrenches and having amused himself by chasing a German spotter to earth, made what appeared to be a leisurely way back to that point of the Lilleroad where he had met with his adventures of the previous day. He washoping to find the battery which he had worried at that time, and he wasnot disappointed. In the same area where he had met the guns before, they opened upon him. He circled round and located six pieces. Which ofthese was "Annie"?

One he could silence at terrible risk to himself, but no more. To dropdown, on the off-chance of finding his quarry, was taking a gambler'schance, and Tam prided himself that he was no gambler. That the gun wasthere, he knew. Its shells were bursting ever upon his level and he wasbumped and kicked by the violence of the concussions. As for the otherguns, he ignored them; but from whence came the danger? He hadunstrapped the tin-plate and held it ready in his gloved hand--thenthere came a burst dangerously near. He banked over, side-slipped in themost natural manner and with all his strength flung the tin-plate clearof the machine. Immediately after, he began to climb upward. He lookeddown, catching the glitter of the tin as it planed and swooped to theearth. 

He knew that those on the ground below thought he was hit. For a briefspace of time the guns ceased firing and by the time they recommencedthey fired short. Tam was now swooping round eastward farther andfarther from range, and all the time he was climbing, till, at the endof half an hour, those who watched him saw only a little black speck inthe sky. 

When he reached his elevation he began to circle back till he came abovethe guns and a little to the eastward. He was watching now intently. Hehad located the six by certain landmarks, and his eyes flickered fromone point to the other. A drifting wisp of cloud helped him a little inthe period of waiting. It served the purpose of concealment and hepassed another quarter of an hour dodging eastward and westward fromcover to cover until, heading back again to the west, he saw what he hadbeen waiting for. 

Down charged the nose of the machine. Like a hawk dropping upon its preyhe swooped down at one hundred and fifty miles an hour, his eyes fixedupon one point. The guns did not see him until too late. Away to hisright, two Archies crashed and missed him by the length of a street. Heslowly flattened before he came over a gun which stood upon a bigmotor-trolley screened by canvas and reeds, and he was not fifty yardsfrom the ground when he released, with almost one motion, every bomb hecarried. 

The explosion flung him up and tossed his little machine as though itwere of paper. He gave one fleeting glance backward and saw the débris, caught a photographic glimpse of half a dozen motionless figures in theroad, then set his roaring machine upward and homeward. 

It was not until a week afterward that the news leaked out that HerrHeinzelle, one of Krupp's best designers, had been "killed on theWestern Front, " and that information put the finishing touch to Tam'sjoy. 

"But, " asked the brigadier-general to whose attention Tam's act ofgenius had been brought, "how did your man know it was the gun?"

"You see, sir, " said Blackie, "Tam got to know that Fritz believed hismachine was armored, and he thought they would be keen to see the armor, and so he took up a plate of tin and dropped it. What was more naturalthan that they should retrieve the armor and take it to the experts forexamination? Tam waited till he saw the sunlight reflected on the tinnear one of the guns--knew that he had found his objective--and droppedfor it!"

"An exceedingly ingenious idea!" said the brigadier. 

This message Blackie conveyed to his subordinate. 

"A'm no' puffed-up aboot it, " said Tam. "'Twas a great waste o' goodtin. "

CHAPTER VI

THE LAW-BREAKER AND FRIGHTFULNESS

It is an unwritten law of all flying services that when an enemy machinebursts into flames in the course of an aerial combat the aggressor whohas brought the catastrophe should leave well enough alone and allow hisstricken enemy to fall unmolested. 

Lieutenant Callendar, returning from a great and enjoyable strafe, wasmet by three fast scouts of the Imperial German Flying Service. He shotdown one, when his gun was jammed. He banked over and dived to avoid theattentions of the foremost of his adversaries, but was hit by a chancebullet, his petrol tank was pierced and he suddenly found himself in themidst of noisy flames which said _"Hoo-oo-oo!"_

As he fell, to his amazement and wrath, one of his adversaries droppedafter him, his machine-gun going like a rattle. High above thecombatants a fourth and fifth machine, the one British and the other aunit of the American squadron, were tearing down-skies. The pursuingplane saw his danger, banked round and sped for home, his companionbeing already on the way. 

"Ye're no gentleman, " said Tam grimly, "an' A'm goin' to strafe ye!"

Fortunately for the flying breaker of air-laws, von Bissing's circus wasperforming stately measures in the heavens and as von Bissing's circusconsisted of ten very fast flying-machines, Tam decided that this wasnot the moment for vengeance and came round on a hairpin turn just asvon Bissing signaled, "Attack!"

Tam got back to the aerodrome to discover that Callendar, somewhat burntbut immensely cheerful, was holding an indignation meeting, the subjectunder discussion being "The Game and How It Should Be Played. "

"The brute knew jolly well I was crashing. It's a monstrous thing!"

"One was bound to meet fellows like that sooner or later, " said CaptainBlackie, the squadron commander, philosophically. "I suppose the supplyof gentlemen does not go round, and they are getting some rubbish intothe corps. One of you fellows drop a note over their aerodrome and askthem what the dickens they mean by it. Did you see him, Tam?"

"A' did that, " said Tam; "that wee Hoon was saved from destruction owingto circumstances ower which A' had no control. A' was on his tail; mabricht-blue eyes were glancin' along the sichts of ma seelver-platedLewis gun, when A' speered the grand circus of Mr. MacBissing waiting toperform. "

Tam shook his head. 

"A'm hoping, " said he, "that it was an act of mental aberration, that'twas his first crash; and, carried away by the excitement andenthusiasm of the moment, the little feller fell into sin. A'm hopingthat retribution is awaiting him. 

"'Ma wee Hindenburg, ' says Mr. MacBissing, stern and ruthless, 'did I nosee ye behavin' in a manner likely to bring discredit upon the Imperialand All-Highest Air Sairvice of our Exalted and Talkative Kaiser? Hoch!Hoch! Hoch!'

"Little Willie Hindenburg hangs his heid. 

"'Baron, ' or 'ma lord, ' as the case may be, says he, 'I'll no be tellin'ye a lie. I was not mesel'! That last wee dram of sauerkraut got me alllit up like a picture palace!' says he; 'I didn't know whether it was onma heid or somebody else's, ' says he; 'I'll admit the allegation and Ithrow mesel' on the maircy o' the court. '

"'Hand me ma strop, ' says MacBissing, pale but determined, and a fewminutes later a passer-by micht have been arrested and even condemned todeath by hearin' the sad and witchlike moans that came fraeheadquarters. "

That "Little Willie Hindenburg" had not acted inadvertently, but that itwas part of his gentle plan to strafe the strafed--an operationequivalent to kicking a man when he is down--was demonstrated the nextmorning, for when Thornton fell out of control, blazing from engine totail, a German flying-man, unmistakably the same as had disgracedhimself on the previous day, came down on his tail, keeping a hail ofbullets directed at the fuselage, though he might have saved himself thetrouble, for both Thornton and Freeman, his observer, had long sincefought their last fight. 

Again Tam was a witness and again, like a raging tempest, he swept downupon the law-breaker and again was foiled by the vigilant German scoutsfrom executing his vengeance. 

Tam had recently received from home a goodly batch of that literaturewhich was his peculiar joy. He sat in his bunk on the night of hissecond adventure with the bad-mannered airman, turned the lurid cover of"The Seven Warnings: The Story of a Cowboy's Vengeance, " and settledhimself down to that "good, long read" which was his chiefest and, indeed, his only recreation. He began reading at the little pine table. He continued curled up in the big armchair--retrieved from the attic ofthe shell-battered Château d'Enghien. He concluded the great worksitting cross-legged on his bed, and the very restlessness which thestory provoked was a sure sign of its gripping interest. 

And when he had finished the little work of thirty-two pages, he turnedback and read parts all over again, a terrific compliment to the shy andretiring author. He closed the book with a long sigh, sat upon his bedfor half an hour and then went back to the pine table, took out from thedébris of one of the drawers a bottle of ink, a pen and some notepaperand wrote laboriously and carefully, ending the seven or eight lines ofwriting with a very respectable representation of a skull andcross-bones. 

When he had finished, he drew an envelope toward him and sat looking atit for five minutes. He scratched his head and he scratched his chin andlaid down his pen. 

It was eleven o'clock, and the mess would still be sitting engaged indiscussion. He put out the light and made his way across the darkenedaerodrome. 

Blackie saw him in the anteroom, for Tam enjoyed the privilege of entréeat all times. 

"His name? It's very curious you should ask that question, Tam, " smiledBlackie; "we've just had a message through from Intelligence. One of hissquadron has been brought down by the Creepers, and they are so sickabout him that this fellow who was caught by the Creepers gave him away. His name is von Mahl, the son of a very rich pal of the Kaiser, and areal bad egg. "

"Von Mahl, " repeated Tam slowly, "and he will be belongin' to theRoulers lot, A'm thinkin'?"

Blackie nodded. 

"They complain bitterly that he is not a gentleman, " he said, "and theywould kick him out but for the fact that he has this influence. Why didyou want to know?"

"Sir-r, " said Tam solemnly, "I ha'e a grand stunt. "

He went back to his room and addressed the envelope:

"Mr. Von Mahl. "

 * * * * *

The next morning when the well-born members of the Ninety-fifth Squadronof the Imperial German Air Service were making their final preparationsto ascend, a black speck appeared in the sky. 

Captain Karl von Zeiglemann fixed the speck with his Zeiss glasses andswore. 

"That is an English machine, " he said; "those Bavarian swine have lethim through. Take cover!"

The group in the aerodrome scattered. 

The Archie fire grew more and more furious and the sky was flecked withthe smoke of bursting shell, but the little visitor came slowly andinexorably onward. Then came three resounding crashes as the bombsdropped. One got the corner of a hangar and demolished it. Another burstinto the open and did no damage, but the third fell plumb between twomachines waiting to go up and left them tangled and burning. 

The German squadron-leader saw the machine bank over and saw, too, something that was fluttering down slowly to the earth. He called hisorderly. 

"There's a parachute falling outside Fritz. Go and get it. "

He turned to his second in command. 

"We shall find, Müller, that this visitor is not wholly unconnected withour dear friend von Mahl. "

"I wish von Mahl had been under that bomb, " grumbled his subordinate. "Can't we do something to get rid of him, Herr Captain?"

Zeiglemann shook his head. 

"I have suggested it and had a rap over the knuckles for my pains. Thefellow is getting us a very bad name. "

Five minutes later his orderly came to the group of which Zeiglemann wasthe center and handed him a small linen parachute and a weighted bag. The squadron-leader was cutting the string which bound the mouth of thebag when a shrill voice said:

"Herr Captain, do be careful; there might be a bomb. "

There was a little chuckle of laughter from the group, and Zeiglemannglowered at the speaker, a tall, unprepossessing youth whose face wasred with excitement. 

"Herr von Mahl, " he snapped with true Prussian ferocity, "theair-services do not descend to such tricks nor do they shoot at burningmachines. "

"Herr Captain, " spluttered the youth, "I do what I think is my duty tomy Kaiser and my Fatherland. "

He saluted religiously. 

To this there was no reply, as he well knew, and Captain Zeiglemannfinished his work in silence. The bag was opened. He put in his hand andtook out a letter. 

"I thought so, " he said, looking at the address; "this is for you, vonMahl. " He handed it to the youth, who tore open the envelope. 

They crowded about him and read it over his shoulder:

 "THIS IS THE FIRST WARNING OF THE AVENGER. SHAKE IN YEER SHOES. TREMBLE! Surround ye'sel' with guards and walls And hide behind the cannon balls, And dig ye'sel' into the earth. Ye'll yet regret yeer day of birth. For Tam the Scoot is on yeer track And soon yeer dome will start to crack!"

It was signed with a skull and cross-bones. 

The young man looked bewildered from one to the other. Every face wasstraight. 

"What--what is this?" he stammered; "is it not absurd? Is it notfrivolous, Herr Captain?"

He laughed his high, shrill little laugh, but nobody uttered a sound. 

"This is serious, of course, von Mahl, " said Zeiglemann soberly. "Although this is your private quarrel, the squadron will do its best tosave you. "

"But, but this is stupid foolishness, " said von Mahl as he savagely torethe note into little pieces and flung them down. "I will go after thisfellow and kill him. I will deal with this Herr Tam. "

"You will do as you wish, Herr von Mahl, but first you shall pick upthose pieces of paper, for it is my order that the aerodrome shall bekept clean. "

Tam swooped back to his headquarters in time for breakfast and made hisreport. 

"The next time you do tricks over Roulers they'll be waiting for you, Tam, " said Blackie with a shake of his head. "I shouldn't strain thatwarning stunt of yours. "

"Sir-r, " said Tam, "A've no intention of riskin' government property. "

"I'm not thinking of the machine, but of you. "

"A' was thinkin' the same way, " said Tam coolly. "'Twould be a nationalcalamity. A' doot but even the _Scotsman_ would be thrown intomournin'--'Intelligence reaches us, ' says our great contempor'y, 'fromthe Western Front which will bring sorrow to nearly every Scottish homereached by our widely sairculated journal, an' even to others. Tam theScoot, the intreepid airman, has gone west. The wee hero tackledsingle-handed thairty-five enemy 'busses, to wit, Mr. MacBissing'ssaircus, an' fell, a victim to his own indomitable fury an' hot temper, after destroyin' thairty-one of the enemy. Glascae papers (if there areany) please copy. '"

That Blackie's fears were well founded was proved later in the morning. Tam found the way to Roulers barred by an Archie barrage which it wouldhave been folly to challenge. He turned south, avoiding certain cloudmasses, and had the gratification of seeing "the circus" swoop down fromthe fleece in a well-designed encircling formation. 

Tam swung round and made for Ypres, but again found a barring formation. 

He turned again, this time straight for home, dropping his post-bag (hehad correctly addressed his letter and he knew it would be delivered), shot down out of control a diving enemy machine that showed fight, chased a slow "spotter" to earth, and flashed over the British trenchesless than two hundred feet from the ground with his wings shot toribbons--for the circus had got to within machine-gun range. 

 * * * * *

A week later Lieutenant von Mahl crossed the British lines at a heightof fifteen hundred feet, bombed a billet and a casualty clearing stationand dropped an insolent note addressed to "The Englishman Tamm. " He didnot wait for an answer, which came at one o'clock on the followingmorning--a noisy and a terrifying answer. 

"This has ceased to be amusing, " said Captain von Zeiglemann, emergingfrom his bomb-proof shelter, and wired a requisition for three machinesto replace those "destroyed by enemy action, " and approval for certainmeasures of reprisal. "As for that pig-dog von Mahl.... "

"He has received his fifth warning, " said his unsmiling junior, "and heis not happy. "

Von Mahl was decidedly not happy. His commandant found him rather paleand shaking, sitting in his room. He leaped up as von Zeiglemannentered, clicked his heels and saluted. Without a word the commandanttook the letter from his hand and read:

 If ye go to Germany A'll follow ye. If ye gae hame to yeer mither A'll find the house and bomb ye. A'll never leave ye, McMahl. 

 TAM THE AVENGER. 

"So!" was von Zeiglemann's comment. 

"It is rascality! It is monstrous!" squeaked the lieutenant. "It isagainst the rules of war! What shall I do, Herr Captain?"

"Go up and find Tam and shoot him, " said Zeiglemann dryly. "It is asimple matter. "

"But--but--do you think--do you believe--?"

Zeiglemann nodded. 

"I think he will keep his word. Do not forget, Herr Lieutenant, that Tambrought down von Müller, the greatest airman that the Fatherland everknew. "

"Von Müller!"

The young man's face went a shade paler. The story of von Müller and hisfeud with an "English" airman and of the disastrous sequel to that feud, was common knowledge throughout Germany. 

Walking back to Command Headquarters, von Zeiglemann expressed hisprivate views to his confidant. 

"If Tam can scare this money-bag back to Frankfurt, he will render us aservice. "

"He asked me where I thought he would be safe--he is thinking of askingfor a transfer to the eastern front, " said Zeiglemann's assistant. 

"And you said--"

"I told him that the only safe place was a British prison camp. "

"Please the good God he reaches there, " said Zeiglemann piously, "but hewill be a fortunate man if he ever lands alive from a fight with Tam. Donot, I command you, allow him to go up alone. We must guard theswine--keep him in the formation. "

Von Zeiglemann went up in his roaring little single-seater and rangedthe air behind the German lines, seeking Tam. By sheer luck he wasbrought down by a chance Archie shell and fell with a sprained ankle inthe German support-trenches, facing Armentiers. 

"A warning to me to leave Mahl to fight his own quarrels, " he said as helimped from the car which had been sent to bring him in. 

There comes to every man to whom has been interpreted the meaning offear a moment of exquisite doubt in his own courage, a bewilderingcollapse of faith that begins in uneasy fears and ends in blind panic. 

Von Mahl had courage--an airman can not be denied that quality whateverhis nationality may be--but it was a mechanical valor based upon anhonest belief in the superiority of the average German over all--friendsor rivals. 

He had come to the flying service from the Corps of the Guard; to theCorps of the Guard from the atmosphere of High Finance, wherein menreduce all values to the denomination of the mark and appraise allvirtues by the currency of the country in which that virtue is found. 

His supreme confidence in the mark evaporated under the iron rule of acolonel who owned three lakes and a range of mountains and an adjutantwho had four surnames and used them all at once. 

His confidence in the superiority of German arms, somewhat shaken atVerdun, revived after his introduction to the flying service, attainedto its zenith at the moment when he incurred the prejudices of Tam, andfrom that moment steadily declined. 

The deterioration of morale in a soldier is a difficult process toreduce to description. It may be said that it has its beginnings inrespect for your enemy and reaches its culminating point in contempt foryour comrades. Before you reach that point you have passed well beyondthe stage when you had any belief in yourself. 

Von Mahl had arrived at the level of descent when he detached himselffrom his comrades and sat brooding, his knuckles to his teeth, reviewinghis abilities and counting over all the acts of injustice to which hehad been subjected. 

Von Zeiglemann, watching him, ordered him fourteen days' leave, and theyoung officer accepted the privilege somewhat reluctantly. 

There was a dear fascination in the danger, he imagined. He had twicecrossed fire with Tam and now knew him, his machine, and his tacticsalmost intimately. 

Von Mahl left for Brussels en route for Frankfurt and two days lateroccurred one of those odd accidents of war which have so often beenwitnessed. 

Tam was detailed to make one of a strong raiding party which had as itsobjective a town just over the Belgian-German frontier. It was carriedout successfully and the party was on its way home when Tam, who was oneof the fighting escort, was violently engaged by two machines, both ofwhich he forced down. In the course of a combat he was compelled to cometo within a thousand feet of the ground and was on the point of climbingwhen, immediately beneath him, a long military railway train emergedfrom a tunnel. Tam carried no bombs, but he had two excellent machineguns, and he swooped joyously to the fray. 

A few feet from the ground he flattened and, running in the oppositedirection to that which the train was taking, he loosed a torrent offire into the side of the carriages. 

Von Mahl, looking from the window of a first-class carriage, saw in aflash the machine and its pilot--then the windows splintered to athousand pieces and he dropped white and palpitating to the floor. 

He came to Frankfurt to find his relations had gone to Karlsruhe, andfollowed them. The night he arrived Karlsruhe was bombed by a Frenchsquadron.... Von Mahl saw only a score of flying and vengeful Tams. Hecame back to the front broken in spirit and courage. "The only place youcan be safe is an English internment camp. "

He chewed his knuckles with fierce intentness and thought the matterover. 

"A'm delayin' ma seventh warnin', " said Tam, "for A'm no' so sure thatMcMahl is aboot. A've no' seen the wee chiel for a gay lang time. "

"Honestly, Tam, " said young Craig (the last of the Craigs, his twobrothers having been shot down over Lille), "do you really think youscare Fritz?"

Tam pulled at his cigar with a pained expression, removed the Coronafrom his mouth, eyeing it with a disappointed sneer, and sniffeddisparagingly before he replied. 

"Sir-r, " he said, "the habits of the Hoon, or Gairman, ha'e been ma lifestudy. Often in the nicht when ye gentlemen at the mess are smokin' badseegairs an' playin' the gamblin' game o' bridge-whist, Tam o' theScoots is workin' oot problems in Gairman psych--I forget the bonniewaird. There he sits, the wee man wi'oot so much as a seegair to keephim company--thank ye, sir-r, A'll not smoke it the noo, but 'twill bewelcomed by one of the sufferin' mechanics--there sits Tam, gettin' intothe mind, or substitute, of the Hoon. "

"But do you seriously believe that you have scared him?"

Tam's eyes twinkled. 

"Mr. Craig, sir-r, what do ye fear wairst in the world?"

Craig thought a moment. 

"Snakes, " he said. 

"An' if ye wanted to strafe a feller as bad as ye could, would ye puthim amongst snakes?"

"I can't imagine anything more horrible, " shuddered Craig. 

"'Tis the same with the Hoon. He goes in for frichtfulness because he'safraid of frichtfulness. He bombs little toons because he's scairt ofhis ain little toons bein' bombed. He believes we get the wind upbecause he'd be silly wi' terror if we did the same thing to him. Ye canalways scare a Hoon--that's ma theery, sir-r. "

Craig had no further opportunity for discussing the matter, for the nextmorning he was "concussed" in midair and retained sufficient sense tobring his machine to the ground. Unfortunately the ground was in thetemporary occupation of the German. 

So Craig went philosophically into bondage. 

He was taken to German Headquarters and handed over to von Zeiglemann'swing "for transport. "

"This is Mr. Von Mahl, " introduced Zeiglemann gravely (they were goingin to lunch); "you have heard of him. "

Craig raised his eyebrows, for the spirit of mischief was on him. 

"Von Mahl, " he said with well-assumed incredulity; "why, I thought--oh, by the way, is to-day the sixteenth?"

"To-morrow is the sixteenth, " snarled von Mahl. "What happens to-morrow, Herr Englishman?"

"I beg your pardon, " said Craig politely; "I'm afraid I can not tellyou--it would not be fair to Tam. "

And von Mahl went out in a sweat of fear. 

 * * * * *

From somewhere overhead came a sound like a snarl of a buzz-saw as itbites into hard wood. Tam, who was walking along a deserted by-road, hishands in his breeches pockets, his forage cap at the back of his head, looked up and shaded his eyes. Something as big as a house-fly, andblack as that, was moving with painful slowness across the skies. 

Now, there is only one machine that makes a noise like a buzz-saw goingabout its lawful business, and that is a British battle-plane, and thatthis was such a machine, Tam knew. 

Why it should be flying at that height and in a direction opposite tothat in which the battle-line lay, was a mystery. 

Usually a machine begins to drop as it reaches our lines, even thoughits destination may be far beyond the aerodromes immediately behind theline--even, as in this case, when it was heading straight for the seaand the English coast. Nor was it customary for an aeroplane bound for"Blighty" to begin its voyage from some point behind the German lines. Tam stood for fully five minutes watching the leisurely speck wingingwestward; then he retraced his steps to the aerodrome. 

He found at the entrance a little group of officers who were equallyinterested. 

"What do you make of that bus, Tam?" asked Blackie. 

"She's British, " said Tam cautiously. 

He reached out his hands for the glasses that Blackie was offering, andfocused them on the disappearing machine. Long and silently he watchedher. The sun had been behind a cloud, but now one ray caught theaeroplane for a moment and turned her into a sparkling star of light. Tam put down his glasses. 

"Yon's Mr. Craig's, " he said impressively. 

"Craig's machine? What makes you think so?"

"Sir-r, " said Tam, "I wad know her anywheer. Yon's Mr. Craig's 'bus, right enough. "

Blackie turned quickly and ran to his office. He spun the handle of thetelephone and gave a number. 

"That you, Calais? There's a Boche flying one of our machines gone inyour direction--yes, one that came down in his lines last week. AFairlight battle-plane. She's flying at sixteen thousand feet. WarnDover. "

He hung up the telephone and turned back. 

Holiday-makers at a certain British coast town were treated to thespectacle of an alarm. 

They gathered on the sands and on the front and watched a dozen Englishmachines trekking upward in wide circles until they also were hoveringspecks in the sky. They saw them wheel suddenly and pass out to sea andthen those who possessed strong glasses noted a new speck coming fromthe east and presently thirteen machines were mixed up and confused, like the spots that come before the eyes of some one afflicted with aliver. 

From this pickle of dots one slowly descended and the trained observersstanding at a point of vantage whooped for joy, for that which seemed aslow descent was, in reality, moving twice as fast as the swiftestexpress train and, moreover, they knew by certain signs that it wasfalling in flames. 

A gray destroyer, its three stacks belching black smoke, cut through thesea and circled about the débris of the burning machine. A little boatdanced through the waves and a young man was hauled from the wreckageuttering strange and bitter words of hate. 

They took him down to the ward-room of the destroyer and propped him inthe commander's armchair. A businesslike doctor dabbed two ugly cuts inhis head with iodine and deftly encircled his brow with a bandage. Anavigating lieutenant passed him a whisky-and-soda. 

"If you speak English, my gentle lad, " said the commander, "honor uswith your rank, title, and official number. "

"Von Mahl, " snapped the young man, "Royal Prussian Lieutenant of theGuard. "

"You take our breath away, " said the commander. "Will you explain whyyou were flying a British machine carrying the Allied marks?"

"I shall explain nothing, " boomed the youth. 

He was not pleasant to look upon, for his head was closely shaven andhis forehead receded. Not to be outdone in modesty, his chin was alsoof a retiring character. 

"Before I hand you over to the wild men of the Royal Naval Air Service, who, I understand, eat little things like you on toast, would you liketo make any statement which will save you from the ignominious end whichawaits all enterprising young heroes who come camouflaging asenterprising young Britons?"

Von Mahl hesitated. 

"I came--because I saw the machine--it had fallen in our lines--it wasan impulse. "

He slipped his hand into his closely buttoned tunic and withdrew a thickwad of canvas-backed paper which, unfolded, revealed itself as a staffmap of England. 

This he spread on the ward-room table and the commander observed that atcertain places little red circles had been drawn. 

"Uppingleigh, Colnburn, Exchester, " said the destroyer captain; "butthese aren't places of military importance--they are German internmentcamps. "

"Exactly!" said von Mahl; "that is where I go. "

In this he spoke the truth, for to one of these he went. 

CHAPTER VII

THE MAN BEHIND THE CIRCUS

There comes to every great artist a moment when a sense of the futilityof his efforts weighs upon and well-nigh crushes him. Such an oppressionrepresents the reaction which follows or precedes much excellent work. The psychologist will, perhaps, fail to explain why this sense ofemptiness so often comes before a man's best accomplishments, and whatassociation there is between that dark hour of anguish which goes beforethe dawn of vision, and the perfect opportunity which invariablyfollows. 

Sergeant-Pilot Tam struck a bad patch of luck. In the first place, hehad missed a splendid chance of catching von Rheinhoff, who withthirty-one "crashes" to his credit came flaunting his immoral triumph inTam's territory. Tam had the advantage of position and hadattacked--and his guns had jammed. The luck was not altogether againsthim, for, if every man had his due, von Rheinhoff should have addedTam's scalp to the list of his thirty-one victims. 

Tam only saved himself by taking the risk of a spinning nose dive intothat zone of comparative safety which is represented by the distancebetween the trajectories of high-angle guns and the flatter curve madeby the flight of the eighteen-pounder shell. 

Nor were his troubles at an end that day, for later he receivedinstructions to watch an observation balloon, which had been therecipient of certain embarrassing attentions from enemy aircraft. And insome miraculous fashion, though he was in an advantageous position toattack any daring intruder, he had been circumvented by a low-flyingFokker. 

The first hint he received that the observation balloon was indifficulties came when he saw the two observers leap into space withtheir parachutes, and a tiny spiral of smoke ascend from the fat andhelpless "sausage. "

Tam dived for the pirate machine firing both guns--then, for the secondtime that day, the mechanism of his gun went wrong. 

"Accidents will happen, " said the philosophical Blackie; "you can't haveit all your own way, Tam. If I were you I'd take a couple of daysoff--you can have ten days' leave if you like, you're entitled to it. "

But Tam shook his head. "A'll tak' a day, sir-r, " he said, "formeditation an' devotional exercise wi' that wee bit gun. "

So he turned into the workshop and stripped the weapon, calling eachpart by name until he found, in a slovenly fitted ejector, reason andexcuse for exercising his limitless vocabulary upon that faithless part. He also said many things about the workman who had fitted it. 

"Angus Jones! O Angus Jones!" said Tam, shaking his head. 

Tam never spoke of anybody impersonally. They were christened instantlyand became such individual realities that you could almost swear thatyou knew them, for Tam would carefully equip them with features andcolor, height and build, and frequently invented for the most unpopularof his imaginary people relatives of offensive reputations. 

"Angus, ma wee lad, " he murmured as his nimble fingers grew busy, "ye'vebeen drinkin' again! Nay, don't deny it! A' see ye comin' out ofHennessy's the forenoon. An' ye've a wife an' six children, the shame onye to treat a puir woman so! Another blunder like this an' ye'll loseyeer job. "

A further fault was discovered in a stiff feed-block, and here Tam grewbitter and personal. 

"Will ye do this, Hector Brodie McKay? Man, can ye meet the innocentgaze o' the passin' soldiery an' no' feel a mairderer? An' wi' a facelike that, ravaged an' seaun fra' vicious livin'--for shame, yescrimshankin', lazy guid-for-nawthing!"

He worked far into the night, for he was tireless, and appeared onparade the next morning fresh and bright of eye. 

"Tam, when you're feeling better I'd like you to dodge over the Germanlines. Behind Lille there's a new Hun Corps Headquarters, and there'ssomething unusual on. "

Tam went out that afternoon in the clear cold sky and found that therewas indeed something doing. 

Lille was guarded as he had never remembered its being guarded before, by three belts of fighting machines. His first attempt to break throughbrought a veritable swarm of hornets about his ears. The airreverberated with Archie fire of a peculiar and unusual intensity longbefore he came within striking distance of the first zone. 

Tam saw the angry rush of the guardian machines and turned his littleNieuport homeward. 

"A'richt! A'richt! What's frichtenin' ye?" he demanded indignantly, asthey streaked behind his tail. "A'm no' anxious to put ma nose whereit's no' wanted!"

He shook off his pursuers and turned on a wide circle, crossed theenemy's line on the Vimy Ridge and came back across the blackcoal-fields near Billy-Montigny. But his attempt to run the gauntlet andto cross Lille from the eastward met with no better success, and heescaped via Menin and the Ypres salient. 

"Ma luck's oot, " he reported glumly. "There's no road into Lille or owerLille--ye'd better send a submarine up the Liza. "

Tam had never thoroughly learned the difference between the Yser and theLys and gave both rivers a generic title. 

"Did you see any concentrations east of the town?" asked Blackie. 

"Beyond an epidemic of mad Gairman airplanes an' a violent eruption ofArchies, the hatefu' enemy shows no sign o' life or movement, " said Tam. "Man, A've never wanted so badly to look into Lille till now. "

Undoubtedly there was something to hide. Young Turpin, venturing whereTam had nearly trod, was shot down by gun-fire and taken prisoner. Missel, a good flyer, was outfought by three opponents and slid homewith a dead observer, limp and smiling in the fuselage. 

"To-morrow at daybreak, look for Tam amongst the stars, " said thatworthy young man as he backed out of Blackie's office, "the disgustin'incivility o' the Hoon has aroosed the fichtin' spirit o' thedead-an'-gone MacTavishes. Every fiber in ma body, includin' masuspenders, is tense wi' rage an' horror. "

"A cigar, Tam?"

"No, thank ye, sir-r, " said Tam, waving aside the proffered case andextracting two cigars in one motion. "Well, perhaps A'd better. A've runoot o' seegairs, an' the thoosand A' ordered frae ma Glasgae factor haebeen sunk by enemy action--this is no' a bad seegair, Captain Blackie, sir-r. It's a verra passable smoke an' no' dear at four-pence. "

"That cigar costs eight pounds a hundred, " said Blackie, nettled. 

"Ye'll end yeer days in the puirhouse, " said Tam. 

True to his promise he swept over Lille the next morning and to hisamazement no particular resistance was offered. He was challengedhalf-heartedly by a solitary machine, he was banged at by A-A guns, butencountered nothing of that intensity of fire which met him on hisearlier visit. 

And Lille was the Lille he knew: the three crooked boulevards, thejumble of small streets, and open space before the railway station. There was no evidence of any unusual happening--no extraordinarycollection of rolling stock in the tangled sidings, or gatherings oftroops in the outskirts of the town. 

Tam was puzzled and pushed eastward. He pursued his investigations asfar as Roubaix, then swept southward to Douai. Here he came againstexactly the same kind of resistance which he had found on his firstvisit to Lille. There were the three circles of fighting machines, thestrengthened Archie batteries, the same furious eagerness to attack. 

Tam went home followed by three swift fighters. He led them to withingliding distance of the Allied lines; then he turned, and this time hisguns served him, for he crashed one and forced one down. The third wenthome and told Fritz all about it. 

"It's verra curious, " said Tam, and Blackie agreed. 

Tam went out again the following morning--but this time not alone. Sixfighting machines, with Blackie leading, headed for Douai in battleformation. At Douai they met no resistance--the aerial concentration hadvanished and, save for the conventional defenses, there was nothing toprevent their appearance over the town. That same afternoon CaptainSutton, R. F. C. , looking for an interest in life over Menin, found it. He came back with his fuselage shot to chips and wet through from asmashed radiator. 

"So far as I can discover, " he said, "all the circuses are hoveringabout Menin. Von Bissing's is there and von Rheinhoff's, and I couldalmost swear I saw von Wentzl's red scouts. "

"Did you get over the town?"

Sutton laughed. "I was a happy man when I reached our lines, " he said. 

"Maybe they're trying out some new stunt, " said Blackie. "Probably it isa plan of defense--a sort of divisional training--I'll send a report toG. H. Q. I don't like this concentration of circuses in ourneighborhood. "

Now a "circus" is a strong squadron of German airplanes attached to noparticular army, but employed on those sectors where its activities willbe of most value at a critical time; and its appearance is invariably acause for rejoicing among all red-blooded adventurers. 

Two days after Blackie had made his report, von Bissing's World-RenownedCircus was giving a performance, and on this occasion was under royaland imperial patronage. 

For, drawn up by the side of the snowy road, some miles in the rear ofthe line were six big motor-cars, and on a high bank near to the roadwas a small group of staff officers muffled from chin to heels in longgray overcoats, clumsily belted at the waist. 

Aloof from the group was a man of medium height, stoutly built and wornof face, whose expression was one of eager impatience. The face, caricatured a hundred thousand times, was hawklike, the eyes bright andsearching, the chin out-thrust. He had a nervous trick of jerking hishead sideways as though he were everlastingly suffering from a crick inthe neck. 

Now and again he raised his glasses to watch the leader as he controlledthe evolutions of the twenty-five airplanes which constituted the"circus. "

It was a sight well worth watching. 

First in a great V, like a flock of wild geese, the squadron sweptacross the sky, every machine in its station. Then, at a signal from theleader, the V broke into three diamond-shaped formations, with theleader at the apex of the triangle which the three flights formed. Another signal and the circus broke into momentary confusion, to reformwith much banking and wheeling into a straight line--again with theleader ahead. Backward and forward swept the line; changed direction andwheeled until the machines formed a perfect circle in the sky. 

"Splendid!" barked the man with the jerking head. 

An officer, who stood a few paces to his rear, stepped up smartly, saluted, and came rigidly to attention. 

"Splendid!" said the other again. "You will tell Captain Baron vonBissing that I am pleased and that I intend bestowing upon him the Order_Pour la Mérite_. His arrangements for my protection at Lille and Douaiand Menin were perfect. "

"Majesty, " said the officer, "your message shall be delivered. "

The sightseer swept the heavens again. "I presume that the other machineis posted as a sentinel, " he said. "That is a most excellent idea--it isflying at an enormous height. Who is the pilot?"

The officer turned and beckoned one of the group behind him. "HisMajesty wishes to know who is the pilot of the sentinel machine?" heasked. 

The officer addressed raised his face to the heavens with a littlefrown. 

"The other machine, general?" he repeated. "There is no other machine. "

He focused his glasses on the tiniest black spot in the skies. Long andseriously he viewed the lonely watcher, then:

"General, " he said hastily, "it is advisable that his Majesty shouldgo. "

"Huh?"

"I can not distinguish the machine, but it looks suspicious. "

_"Whoom! Whoom!"_

A field away, two great brown geysers of earth leaped up into the airand two deafening explosions set the bare branches of the trees swaying. 

Down the bank scrambled the distinguished party and in a few seconds thecars were streaking homeward. 

The circus was now climbing desperately, but the watcher on high had abig margin of safety. 

_"Whoom!"_

Just to the rear of the last staff car fell the bomb, blowing a greathole in the paved road and scattering stones and débris over a widearea. 

The cars fled onward, skidding at every turn of the road, and the bombsfollowed or preceded them, or else flung up the earth to left or right. 

"That's the tenth and the last, thank God!" said the sweatingaide-de-camp. "Heaven and thunder! what an almost catastrophe!"

In the amazing spaces of the air, a lean face, pinched and blue with thecold, peered over the fuselage and watched the antlike procession ofpin-point dots moving slowly along the snowy road. 

"That's ma last!" he said, and picking up an aerial torpedo from betweenhis feet, he dropped it over the side. 

It struck the last car, which dissolved noisily into dust and splinters, while the force of the explosion overturned the car ahead. 

"A bonnie shot, " said Tam o' the Scoots complacently, and banked over ashe turned for home. He shot a glance at the climbing circus and judgedthat there was no permanent advantage to be secured from an engagement. Nevertheless he loosed a drum of ammunition at the highest machine andgrinned when he saw two rips appear in the wing of his machine. 

By the time he passed over the German line all the Archies in the worldwere blazing at him, but Tam was at an almost record height--the heightwhere men go dizzy and sick and suffer from internal bleeding. Over theGerman front-line trenches he dipped steeply down, but such had been hisaltitude that he was still ten thousand feet high when he leveled outabove his aerodrome. 

He descended in wide circles, his machine canted all the time at anangle of forty-five degrees and lighted gently on the even surface ofthe field a quarter of an hour after he had crossed the line. 

He descended to the ground stiff and numb, and Bertram walked acrossfrom his own machine to make inquiries. 

"Parky, Tam?"

"It's no' so parky, Mr. Bertram, sir-r, " replied Tam cautiously. 

"Rot, Tam!" said that youthful officer. "Why, your nose is blue!"

"Aweel, " admitted Tam. "But that's no' cold, that's--will ye look at maaltitude record?"

The young man climbed into the fuselage, looked and gasped. 

"Dear lad!" he said, "have you been to heaven?"

"Verra near, sir-r, " said Tam gravely; "another ten gallons o' essencean' A'd 'a' made it. A've been that high that A' could see the sunrisin' to-morrow!"

He started to walk off to his quarters but stopped and turned back. "Don't go near MacBissing's caircus, " he warned; "he's feelin' sore. "

Tam made a verbal report to Blackie, and Blackie got on to Headquartersby 'phone. 

"Tam seems to have had an adventure, sir, " he said, when he had inducedH. Q. Exchange to connect him with his general and gave the luriddetails. 

"It might be Hindenburg, " said the general thoughtfully. "He's on theWestern Front somewhere--that may explain the appearance of thecircuses--or it may have been a corps general showing off the circus toa few trippers from Berlin--they are always running Reichstag membersand pressmen round this front. Get Tam to make a report--his own report, not one you have edited. " Blackie heard him chuckle. "I showed the lastone to the army commander and he was tickled to death--hurry it along, I'm dying to see it. "

If there is one task which an airman dislikes more than any other, it isreport-writing. Tam was no exception, and his written accounts of theday's work were models of briefness. 

In the days of his extreme youth he had been engaged in labor which didnot call for the clerical qualities, and roughly his written "reports"were modeled on the "time sheets" he was wont to render in that far-offperiod, when he dwelt in lodgings at Govan, and worked at McArdle'sShipbuilding Yard. 

Thus:

 Left aerodrome 6 A. M. Enemy patrols encountered 5 Ditto ditto chased 4 Ditto ditto forced down 2 Bombs dropped on Verleur Station 5 &c. , &c. 

Fortunately Tam possessed a romantic and a poetical soul, and there wererare occasions when he would offer a lyrical account of his adventurescontaining more color and detail. As, for example, his account of hisfight with Lieutenant Prince Zwartz-Hamelyn:

 "Oh, wad some power the giftie gi'e us Tae see oursel's as ithers see us. " Thus spake a high an' princely Hun As he fired at Tam wi' his Maxim gun. Thinkin', na doot, that bonnie lad Was lookin', if no' feelin', bad. But Tam he stalled his wee machine An' straffit young Zwartz-Hamelyn. 

It was Blackie who harnessed Tam's genius for description to the pencilof a stenographer, and thereafter, when a long report was needed byHeadquarters, there would appear at Tam's quarters one CorporalAlexander Brown, Blackie's secretary, and an amiable cockney who wrotemystic characters in a notebook with great rapidity. 

"Is it ye, Alec?" said Tam, suspending his ablutions to open the door ofhis "bunk. " "Come away in, man. Is it a report ye want? Sit down on thebed an' help yeersel' to the seegairs. Ye'll find the whisky in thedecanter. "

Corporal Brown sat on the bed because he knew it was there. He divedinto his pocket and produced a notebook, a pencil and a cigaret, becausehe knew they had existence, too. He did not attempt to search for thecigars and the whisky because he had been fooled before, and had on twoseparate occasions searched the bunk for these delicacies under theunsmiling eyes of Tam and aided by Tam's advice, only to find in the endthat Tam was as anxious to discover such treasures as the baffledcorporal himself. 

"We will noo proceed with the thrillin' serial, " said Tam, spreadinghis towel on the window-ledge and rolling down his shirt-sleeves. "Areye ready, Alec?"

"'Arf a mo', Sergeant--have you got a match?"

"Man, ye're a cadger of the most appallin' descreeption, " said Tamseverely. "A'm lookin' for'ard to the day when it'll be a coort-martialoffense to ask yeer superior officer for matches--here's one. Don'tstrike it till ye give me one of yeer common cigarets. "

The corporal produced a packet. 

"A'll ask ye as a favor not to let the men know A've descended to thislow an' vulgar habit, " said Tam. "A'll take two or three ascuriosities--A'd like to show the officers the kind o' poison the lowerclasses smoke--"

"Here! Leave me a couple!" said the alarmed non-commissioned officer asTam's skilful fingers half emptied the box. 

"Be silent!" said Tam, "ye're interruptin' ma train o' thochts--what didA' say last?"

"You said nothing yet, " replied the corporal, rescuing his depletedstore. 

"Here it begins, " said Tam, and started:

 "At ten o'clock in the forenoon o' a clear but wintry day, a solitary airman micht hae been seen wingin' his lane way ameedst the solitude o' the achin' skies. "

"'Achin' skies'?" queried the stenographer dubiously. 

"It's poetry, " said Tam. "A' got it oot o' a bit by Roodyard Kiplin', the Burns o' England, an' don't interrupt. 

 "He seemed ower young for sich an adventure--"

"How old are you, Sergeant, if I may ask the question?" demanded theamanuensis. 

"Ye may not ask, but A'll tell you--A'm seventy-four come Michaelmas, an' A've never looked into the bricht ees o' a lassie since A' lost mewee Jean, who flit wi' a colonel o' dragoons, in the year the battle ofBalaklava was fought--will ye shut yeer face whilst A'm dictatin'?"

"Sorry, " murmured the corporal and poised his pencil. 

 "Suddenly, as the wee hero was guidin' his 'bus through the maze o' cloods, a strange sicht met his ees. It was the caircus of MacBissing! They were evolutin' by numbers, performin' their Great Feat of Balancin' an' Barebacked Ridin', Aerial Trapeze an' Tight-rope Walkin', Loopin' the Loop by the death-defyin' Brothers Fritz, together with many laughable an' amusin' interludes by Whimsical Walker, the Laird o' Laughter, the whole concludin' with a Graund Patriotic Procession entitled Deutschland ower All--or Nearly All. "

"I ain't seen a circus for years, " said the corporal with a sigh. "Lord!I used to love them girls in short skirts--"

"Restrain yeer amorous thochts, Alec, " warned Tam, "an' fix yeer mind onleeterature. To proceed:

 "'Can it be, ' says our hero, 'can it be that Mr. MacBissing is doin' his stunts at ten-thairty o' the clock in the cauld morn, for sheer love o' his seenister profession? No, ' says A'--says our young hero--'no, ' says he, 'he has a distinguished audience as like as not. '

 "Speerin' ower the side an' fixin' his expensive glasses on the groon, he espied sax motor-cars--"

The door was flung open and Blackie came in hurriedly. "Tam--get up, " hesaid briefly. "All the damn circuses are out on a strafe--and we'reIt--von Bissing, von Rheinhoff, and von Wentzl. They're coming straighthere and I think they're out for blood. "

The history of that great aerial combat has been graphically told by thespecial correspondents. Von Bissing's formation--dead out of luck thatday--was broken up by Archie fire and forced back, von Wentzl wasengaged by the Fifty-ninth Squadron (providentially up in strength for astrafe of their own) and turned back, but the von Rheinhoff groupreached its objective before the machines were more than five thousandfeet from the ground and there was some wild bombing. 

Von Rheinhoff might have unloaded his bombs and got away, but he showeddeplorable judgment. To insure an absolutely successful outcome to theattack he ordered his machines to descend. Before he could recoveraltitude the swift little scouts were up and into the formation. The aircrackled with the sound of Lewis-gun fire, machines reeled and staggeredlike drunken men, Tam's fighting Morane dipped and dived, climbed andswerved in a wild bacchanalian dance. Airplanes, British and Germanalike, fell flaming to the earth before the second in command of theenemy squadron signaled, "Retire. "

A mile away a battery of A-A guns waited, its commander's eyes glued toa telescope. 

"They're breaking off--stand by! Range 4300 yards--deflection--Therethey go! Commence firing. "

A dozen batteries were waiting the signal. The air was filled with theshriek of speeding shells, the skies were mottled with patches of smoke, white and brown, where the charges burst. 

Von Rheinhoff's battered squadron rode raggedly to safety. 

"Got him--whoop!" yelled a thousand voices, as from one machine therecame a scatter of pieces as a high-explosive shell burst under the wing, and the soaring bird collapsed and came trembling, slowly, head-over-heels to the ground. 

Von Rheinhoff, that redoubtable man, was half conscious when they pulledhim out of the burnt and bloody wreck. 

He looked round sleepily at the group about him and asked in the voiceof a very tired man:

"Which--of--you--fellows--bombed--our Kaiser?"

Tam leant forward, his face blazing with excitement. 

"Say that again, sir-r, " he said. 

Von Rheinhoff looked at him through half-opened eyes. "Tam--eh?" hewhispered. "You--nearly put an empire--in mourning. "

Tam drew a long breath, then turned away. "Nearly!" he said bitterly. "Did A' no' tell ye, Captain Blackie, sir-r, that ma luck was oot?"

CHAPTER VIII

A QUESTION OF RANK

Tam stood in the doorway of Squadron Headquarters and saluted. 

"Come in, Sergeant Mactavish, " said Blackie, and Tam's heart went downinto his boots. 

To be called by his surname was a happening which had only onesignificance. There was trouble of sorts, and Tam hated trouble. 

"There are some facts which General Headquarters have asked me toverify--your age is twenty-seven?"

"Yes, sir-r. "

"You hold the military medal, the French _Médaille Militaire_, theRussian medal of St. George and the French _Croix de Guerre_?"

"Oh, aye, Captain Blackie, sir-r, but A've no' worn 'em yet. "

"You were created King's Corporal for an act of valor on January 17, 1915?" Blackie went on, consulting a paper. 

"Yes, sir-r. "

Blackie nodded. "That's all, Sergeant, " he said, and as Tam saluted andturned, "oh, by-the-way, Sergeant--we had a brass ha--I mean a staffofficer here the other day and he reported rather unfavorably upon apractise of yours--er--ours. It was a question of discipline--you knowit is not usual for a non-commissioned officer to be on such friendlyterms with--er--officers. And I think he saw you in the anteroom of themess. So I told him something which was not at the time exactly true. "

Tam nodded gravely. 

For the first time since he had been a soldier he had a horrid feelingof chagrin, of disappointment, of something that rebuffed and hurt. 

"A' see, sir-r, " he said, "'tis no' ma wish to put mesel' forward, an'if A've been a wee bit free wi' the young laddies there was nodisrespect in it. A' know ma place an' A'm no' ashamed o' it. There's ashipyard on the Clyde that's got ma name on its books as afitter--that's ma job an' A'm proud o' it. If ye're thinkin', CaptainBlackie, sir-r, that ma heid got big--"

"No, no, Tam, " said Blackie hastily, "I'm just telling you--so thatyou'll understand things when they happen. "

Tam saluted and walked away. 

He passed Brandspeth and Walker-Giddons and responded to their flippantgreetings with as stiff a salute as he was capable of offering. Theystared after him in amazement. 

"What's the matter with Tam?" they demanded simultaneously, one of theother. 

Tam reached his room, closed and locked the door and sat down to unravela confused situation. 

He had grown up with the squadron and had insensibly drifted into arelationship which had no counterpart in any other branch of theservice. He was "Tam, " unique and indefinable. He had few intimates ofhis own rank, and little association with his juniors. The mechanicstreated him as being in a class apart and respected him since the daywhen, to the prejudice of good order and military discipline, he hadfollowed a homesick boy who had deserted, found him and hammered himuntil nostalgia would have been a welcome relief. All deserters areshot, and the youth having at first decided that death was preferable toa repetition of the thrashing he had received, changed his mind and wastearfully grateful. 

Sitting on his bed, his head between his hands, pondering thisremarkable change which had come to the attitude of his officers andfriends, Tam was sensible (to his astonishment) of the extraordinarydevelopment his mentality had undergone. He had come to the armyresentfully, a rabid socialist with a keen contempt for "the upperclasses" which he had never concealed. The upper classes were peoplewho wore high white collars, turned up the ends of their trousers andaffected a monocle. They spoke a kind of drawling English and said, "Bygad, dear old top--what perfectly beastly weathah!"

They did no work and lived on the sweat of labor. They patronized theworkman or ignored his existence, and only came to Scotland to shoot andfish--whereon they assumed (with gillies and keepers of all kinds) thenational dress which Scotsmen never wear. 

That was the old conception, and Tam almost gasped as he realized howfar he had traveled from his ancient faith. For all these boys he knewwere of that class--most of them had an exaggerated accent and said, "Bygad!"--but somehow he understood them and could see, beneath theexternals, the fine and lovable qualities that were theirs. He had beentaken into this strange and pleasant community and had felt--he did notexactly know what he had felt. All he did know was that a brass-hattedangel with red tabs on its collar stood at the gate of a little paradiseof comradeship, and forbade further knowledge of its pleasant places. 

He pursed his lips and got to his feet, sick with a sense of his loss. He was of the people, apart. He was a Clydeside worker and they were thequality. He told himself this and knew that he lied--he and they stoodon grounds of equality; they were men doing men's work and risking theirlives one for the other. 

 * * * * *

Tam whistled a dreary little tune, took down his cap and walked over tothe workshops. There was a motorcycle which Brandspeth told him he coulduse, and after a moment's hesitation, Tam wheeled the machine to theyard. Then he remembered that he was in his working tunic, and since itwas his intention to utilize this day's leave in visiting a town at therear of the lines, he decided to return to his bunk and change into his"best. "

He opened his box--but his best tunic was missing. 

"Weel, weel!" said Tam, puzzled, and summoned his batman with a shrillwhistle. 

"To tell you the truth, Sergeant, " said the man, "Mr. Walker-Giddons andthe other young officers came over for it three days ago. They got me togive it to 'em and made me promise I wouldn't say anything about it. "

Tam smiled quietly. 

"All right, Angus, " he nodded and went back to his cycle. He did notknow the joke, but it was one which would probably come to an untimelyend, in view of the disciplinary measures which headquarters weretaking. This incident meant another little pang, but the freshness ofthe morning and the exhilaration of the ride--for motorcycling hasthrills which aviation does not know--helped banish all thoughts of anunpleasant morning. 

He reached his destination, made a few purchases, drank an agreeable cupof coffee and discovered that he had exhausted all the joys which thetown held. He had intended amusing himself through the day and returningat night, but, even before the restaurants began to fill for lunch hewas bored and irritable, and strapping his purchases to the back of thecycle he mounted the machine and began his homeward journey. 

It was in the little village St. Anton (in reality a suburb of the town)that he met Adventure--Adventure so novel, so bewildering, that he feltthat he had been singled out by fate for such an experience as had neverbefore fallen to mortal man. 

He met a girl. He met her violently, for she was speeding along a roadbehind the wheel of a small motor ambulance and it happened that theroad in question ran at right angles to that which Tam was following. 

Both saw the danger a few seconds before the collision occurred; bothapplied fierce brakes, but, nevertheless, Tam found himself on hishands and knees at the feet of the lady-driver, having taken a purleralmost into her lap, despite the printed warning attached to thisportion of the ambulance:

 DRIVER AND ORDERLIES ONLY

"Oh, I do hope you aren't hurt, " said the girl anxiously. 

Tam picked himself up, dusted his hands and his knees and surveyed herseverely. 

She was rather small of stature and very pretty. A shrapnel helmet wasset at a rakish angle over her golden-brown hair, and she wore theuniform of a Red Cross driver. 

"It was my fault, " she went on. "This is only a secondary road and yoursis the main--I should have slowed but I guess I was thinking of things. I often do that. "

She was obviously American and Tam's slow smile was free of malice. 

"It's fine to think of things, " he said, "especially when y're drivin'an ambulance--but it's a hairse ye ought to be drivin', Mistress, if yewant to gie yeer thochts a good airin'. "

"I'm really sorry, " said the girl penitently. "I'm afraid your cycle issmashed. "

"Don't let it worry ye, " said Tam calmly. "It's no' ma bike anyway; itbelongs to one of the hatefu' governin' classes, an' A've nothin' to dobut mak' guid the damage. "

"Oh, " said the girl blankly, then she suddenly went red. 

"Of course, " she began awkwardly, "as I was responsible--I can wellafford--"

She halted lamely and Tam's eyes twinkled. "Maybe ye're the niece ofAndrew Carnegie an' ye've had yeer monthly library allowance, " he saidgravely, "an' maybe ye could spare a few thousand dollars or cents--A'veno' got the exact coinage in ma mind--to help a wee feller buy a newwhizzer-wheel. A' take it kindly, but guid money makes bad frien's. "

"I didn't intend offering you money, " she said hurriedly, flushingdeeper than ever, "let me pull the car up to the side of the road. "

Tam examined his own battered machine in the meantime. The front wheelhad buckled, but this was easily remedied, and by the time the girl hadbrought her car to rest in a field he had repaired all the importantdamage. 

"I was going to stop somewhere about here for lunch, " she said, producing a basket from under the seat; "in fact, I was thinking oflunch when--when--"

"A' nose-dived on to ye, " said Tam, preparing to depart. "Weel, A'll begettin' along. There's nothing A' can do for ye?"

"You can stay and lunch with me. "

"A've haid ma dinner, " said Tam hastily. 

"What did you have?" she demanded. 

"Roast beef an' rice pudding, " said Tam glibly. 

"I don't believe you--anyway I guess it won't hurt you to watch me eat. "

Tam noticed that she took it for granted that he was lying, for sheserved him with a portion of her simple meal, and he accepted thesituation without protest. 

"I'm an American, you know, " she said as they sat cross-legged on thegrass. "I come from Jackson, Connecticut--you've heard of Jackson?"

"Oh, aye, " he replied. "A'm frae Glascae. "

"That's Scotland--I like the Scotch. "

Tam blushed and choked. 

"I came over last year to drive an ambulance in the American AmbulanceSection, but they wouldn't have me, so I just went into the English RedCross. "

"British, " corrected Tam. 

"I shall say English if I like, " she defied him. 

"Weel, " said Tam, "it's no' for me to check ye if ye won't be edicated. "

She stared at him, then burst into a ringing laugh. "My! the Scotchpeople are funny--tell me about Scotland. Is it a wonderful country? Doyou know about Bruce and Wallace and Rob Roy and all those people?"

"Oh, aye, " said Tam cautiously, "by what A' read in the paper it's a gayfine country. "

"And the red deer and glens and things--it must be lovely. "

"A've seen graund pictures of a glen, " admitted Tam, "but the red deerin Glascae air no' sae plentifu' as they used to be--A'm thinkin' theshipyard bummer hae scairt 'em away. "

She shot a sharp glance at him, then, it seemed for the first time, noticed his stripes. 

"Oh, you're a sergeant, " she said. "I thought--I thought by your 'wings'you were an officer. I didn't know that sergeants--"

Tam smiled at her confusion and when he smiled there was an infinitesweetness in the action. 

"Ye're right, Mistress. A'm a sairgeant, an' A' thocht a' the time yewere mistakin' me for an officer, an' A'd no' the heart to stop ye, forit's a verra lang time since A' spoke wi' a lady, an' it was verra, verra fine. "

He rose slowly and walked to his cycle--she ran after him and laid herhand on his arm. 

"I've been a low snob, " she said frankly. "I beg your pardon--and you'renot to go, because I wanted to ask you about a sergeant of yourcorps--you know the man that everybody is talking about. He bombed theKaiser's staff the other day. You've heard about it, haven't you?"

Tam kept his eyes on the distant horizon. 

"Oh, he's no sae much o' a fellow--a wee chap wi' an' awfu' conceit o'himsel'. "

"Nonsense!" she scoffed, "why, Captain Blackie told me--"

Suddenly, she stepped back and gazed at him wide-eyed. "Why! You'reTam!"

Tam went red. 

"Of course you're Tam--you never wear your medal ribbons, do you? You'recalled--"

"Mistress, " said Tam as he saluted awkwardly and started to push hismachine, "they ca' me 'sairgeant, ' an' it's no' such a bad rank. "

He left her standing with heightened color blaming herself bitterly forher _gaucherie_. 

So it made that difference, too!

For some reason he did not feel hurt or unhappy. He was in his mostphilosophical mood when he reached his aerodrome. He had a cause forgratification in that she knew his name. Evidently, it was something tobe a sergeant if by so being you stand out from the ruck of men. As toher name he had neither thought it opportune nor proper to advanceinquiries. 

He smiled as he changed into his working clothes and wondered why. 

 * * * * *

A dozen girl drivers were waiting on the broad road before the 131stGeneral Hospital the next morning, exchanging views on the big thingswhich were happening in their little world, when one spied an airplane. 

"Gracious--isn't it high! I wonder if it's a German--they're bombinghospitals--it's British, silly--no, it's a German, I saw one just likethat over Poperinghe--it's coming right over. "

"Stand by your cars, ladies, please. "

The tall "chief's" sharp voice scattered the groups. 

"He's dropping something--it's a bomb--no, it's a message bag. Look atthe streamers!"

A bag it was and when they raced to the field in which it fell theydiscovered that it was improvised, roughly sewn and weighted with sand. 

The superintendent read the label and frowned. 

"'To the Driver of Ambulance B. T. 9743, 131st General Hospital'--thisis evidently for you, Miss Laramore. "

"For me, Mrs. Crane?"

Vera Laramore came forward, a picture of astonishment and took the bag. 

"Oh, what fun--who is it, Vera? Open it quickly. "

The girl pulled open the bag and took out a letter. It bore the sameaddress as that which had been written on the label. 

Slowly she tore off the end of the envelope. 

There was a single sheet of paper written in a boyish hand. Without anypreliminary it ran:

 "A sairgeant-pilot, feelin' sair, A spitefu' thing may do, An' so I come to you once mair That I may say--an' true-- As you looked doon on me ane day, Now I look doon on you!

 "You, fra your height of pride an' clan Heard your high spirit ca', An' so you scorned the common man-- I saw yeer sweet face fa'; But, losh! I'm just that mighty high I can't see you at a'!"

It was signed "T" and the girl's eyes danced with joy. She shaded hereyes and looked up. The tiny airplane was turning and she waved herhandkerchief frantically. 

"A friend of yours?" asked the superintendent with ominous politeness. 

"Ye-es--it's Tam, Mrs. Crane--I ran into him--he ran into meyesterday--"

"Tam?" even the severe superintendent was interested, "that remarkableman--I should like to see him. Everybody is talking about him just now. Was it a private letter or an official message from the aerodrome?"

"It was private, " said the girl, very pink and a note of defiance in hervoice, and the superintendent very wisely dropped the subject. 

"I really don't know how to send him an appropriate answer, " said Verato her confidante and room-mate that evening. "I can't write poetry andI can't fly. "

"I shouldn't answer it, " said her sensible friend briskly. "After all, my dear, you don't want to start a flirtation with a sergeant--I mean, it's hardly the thing, is it?"

The little pajama'd figure sitting on the edge of the bed favored herfriend with a cold stare. 

"I certainly am not thinking of a flirtation, " she said icily, "but if Iwere, I should as certainly be unaffected by the rank of my victim. InAmerica we aren't quite so strong for pedigrees and families as youEnglish people--"

"Irish, " said the other gently. 

Vera laughed as she curled up in the bed and drew her sheet up to herchin. 

"It's queer how people hate being called English--even Tam--"

"Look here, Vera, " said her companion hotly, "just leave that young manalone. And please get all those silly, romantic ideas out of your head. "

A silence--then, "I'm going to write to him, to-morrow, " said a sleepy voice, and therapid fire of her friend's protest was answered with a well-simulatedsnore. 

Tam received the letter by messenger. 

 "Dear Mr. Tam (it ran):

 "I know that is your Christian name, but I really do not know your other, so will you please excuse me? I am going into Amiens next Friday and if you have quite forgiven me, will you please meet me for lunch at the Café St. Pierre? And thank you so much for your very clever verse. "

"'Vera Laramore, '" repeated Tam. "A've no doot she's Scottish. "

He trod air that week, literally and figuratively, for the work washeavy. The high winds which had kept the British squadrons to theground, petered out to gentle breezes, and the air was alive with craft. Bombing raid, photographic reconnaissance and long-distance scoutingkept the airmen busy. New squadrons appeared which had never been seenbefore on this front. The Franco-American unit came up from X, and didsome very audible fraternizing with what was locally known as "Blackie'slot, " a circumstance which ordinarily would have caused Tam's heart torejoice. 

But Tam was keeping clear of the mess-room just now, and he either sentan orderly with his messages or waited religiously on the mat. As forthe officers, he avoided them unless (as was often the case) they soughthim out. 

Brandspeth brought one of the new men over to his bunk the night theAmerican contingent arrived. 

"I want you to meet an American officer, Tam, " he yelled. "Don't be anass--open the door. "

He was on one side of the locked door and Tam was on the other. 

Tam turned the key reluctantly and admitted the visitors. 

"A'm no' wishin' to be unceevil, Mr. Brandspeth, but Captain Blackiewill strafe ye if he finds ye here. "

"Rubbish! I want you to meet Mr. Laramore. "

Tam looked at the keen-faced young athlete and slowly extended his hand. 

"I think you know my sister, " said the smiling youth, "and certainly weall know you. "

He gave the pilot a grip which would have crushed a hand of ordinarymuscularity. 

"A've run up against the young lady in ma travels, " said Tam solemnly. 

Laramore laughed. "I saw her for a moment to-day and she asked me toremind you of your appointment. "

"An appointment--with a lady? Oh, Tam!" said the shocked Brandspeth, producing from his overcoat pocket a siphon of soda, a large flask ofamber-brown liquid and a bundle of cigars, and setting them upon thetable. "Really, Tam is always making the strangest acquaintances. "

"He never met anybody stranger than Vera--or better, " said Laramore, with a little laugh. "Vera, I suppose, is worth a million dollars. Sheis a citizen of a neutral country. She can have the bulliest time anygirl could desire, and yet she elects to come to France, drive a carover abominable roads which are more often than not under shell-fire, and sleep in a leaky old shack for forty cents a day. "

Brandspeth was filling the glasses. 

"You're a neutral, too--say when--I suppose you're not exactly a pauperand yet you risk breaking your neck for ten francs per. Help yourself toa cigar, Tam--I said a cigar. "

"Try one o' mine, sir-r, " said Tam coolly, and produced a box ofPerfectos from under his bed; "ye may take one apiece and it's fair totell ye A've coonted them. "

They spent a moderate but joyous evening, but Tam, standing in thedoorway of his "bunk, " watched the figures of his guests receding intothe darkness with a sense of depression. He had no social ambitions, hehad no desire to be anything other than the man he was. If he lookedforward to his return to civil life at the war's end, he did so withequanimity, though that return meant a life in soiled overalls amid thehum and clang of a factory shop. 

He had none of that divine discontent which is half the equipment ofScottish youth. Rather did he possess ambition's surest antidote in amild and kindly cynicism which stripped endeavor of its illusions. 

It was on the Wednesday night after he had written a polite little noteto the One Hundred and Thirty-first General Hospital accepting theinvitation to lunch and had received one of Blackie's tentative permitsto take a day's leave (Tam called them "D. V. Passes") that the blowfell. 

"Angus, " said Tam to his batman, "while A'm bravin' the terrors of thefoorth dimension in the morn--"

"Is that the new scoutin' machine, Sergeant?" demanded the interestedbatman. 

"The foorth dimension, ma puir frien', is a tairm applied byphilosophers of the Royal Flyin' Coop to the space between France an'heaven. "

"Oh, you mean the hair!" said the disappointed servant. 

"A' mean the hair, " replied Tam gravely, "not the hair that stands upwhen yeer petrol tank goes dry nor the hare yeer poachin' ancestorsstole from the laird o' the manor, but the hair ye breathe when ye'reno' smokin'. An' while A'm away in the morn A' want ye to go to Mr. Brandspeth's servant an' get ma new tunic. A'm going to a pairty atAmiens on Friday, an' A'm no' anxious to be walkin' doon the palm courtof the Café St. Pierre in ma auld tunic. "

"Anyway, " said the batman, busily brushing that same "auld" tunic, "youwouldn't be walkin' into the Café St. Pierre. "

"And why not?"

"Because, " said the batman triumphantly, "that's one of the cafésreserved for officers only. "

There was a silence, then: "Are ye sure o' that, Angus?"

"Sure, Sergeant--I was in Amiens for three months. "

Tam said nothing and presently began whistling softly. 

He walked to his book-shelf, took down a thin, paper-covered volume andsank back on the bed. 

"That will do, Angus, " he said presently; "ca' me at five. "

The barriers were up all around--they had been erected in the course ofa short week. They penned him to his class, confined him to certainnarrow roads from whence he might see all that was desirable butforbidden. 

 * * * * *

He was so silent the next morning, when he joined the big squadron thatwas assembling on the flying field, that Blackie did not know he wasthere. 

"Where's Tam? Oh, here you are. You know your position in the formation?Right point to cover the right of the American bombing squad. Mr. Suttonbefore you and Mr. Benson behind. You will get turning signals from me. Altitude twelve thousand--that will be two thousand feet above thebombers--no need to tell you anything. The objective is Bapaume andAchiet junctions--"

Tam answered shortly and climbed into his fuselage. 

The squadron went up in twos, the fighting machines first, the heavierbombing airplanes last. For twenty minutes they maneuvered for position, and presently the leader's machine spluttered little balls of coloredlights and the squadron moved eastward--a great diamond-shaped flock, filling the air and the earth with a tremulous roar of sound. 

They reached their objectives without effective opposition. First, thejunction to the north of Bapaume, then the web of sidings at Achietsmoked and flamed under the heavy bombardment. Quick splashes of lightwhere the bombs exploded, great columns of gray smoke mushrooming up tothe sky, then feeble licks of flame growing in intensity of brightnesswhere the incendiary bombs, taking hold of stores and hutments, advertised the success of the raid. 

The squadron swung for home. 

Tam with one eye for his leader and one for the possible dangers on hisflank, was a mere automaton. There was no opportunity for displayinginitiative--he was a cog in the wheel. 

Suddenly a new signal glowed from the leading machine and Tam threw aquick glance left and right and began to climb. The other fighters wererising steeply, though not at such an angle that they could not seetheir leader, who was a little higher than they. Another signal and theyflattened, and Tam saw all that he had guessed. 

"Ma guidness!" said Tam, "the sky's stiff wi' 'busses!"

There must have been forty enemy machines between the squadron and home. So far as Tam could see there were eight separate formations and theywere converging from three points of the compass. 

The safety of the squadron depended upon the individual genius of thefighters. Tam swerved to the right and dipped to the attack, hismachine-guns spraying his nearest opponent. Sutton, ahead of him, wasalready engaged, and he guessed that Benson, in his rear, had his handsfull. 

Tam's nearest opponent went down sideways, his second funked theencounter and careered wildly away to his left and immediately lostposition to attack, for when two forces are approaching one another ateighty miles an hour, failure to seize the psychological moment forstriking your blow leaves you in one minute exactly three miles to therear of your opponent. The first shock was over in exactly thirty-fiveseconds, and beneath the spot where the squadron had passed sevenmachines were diving or circling earthward, the majority of these inflames. 

The second shock came three minutes later and again the squadrontriumphed. 

Then Tam, looking down, saw one of the bombing machines turn out of theline, and at the same time Blackie signaled, "Cover stragglers. "

The squadron was now well behind the British lines, but they were southof the aerodrome, having changed direction to meet the attacks. Tam witha little leap of heart recognized in the distance a familiar triangularfield of unsullied snow, searched for and found the rectangular block oftiny huts which formed No. 131 General Hospital and turned out of theline with a wild sense of exhilaration. 

"She'll no' see me eat, " he said, "but she shall see a graund ficht. "

The bomber was swerving and dipping like a helpless wild duck seeking toshake off the three hawks that were now hovering over her. 

"Let you be Laramore's machine, O Lord!" prayed Tam, and he prayed withthe assurance that his prayer was already answered. 

He came at the leading German and for a second the two machines streamednickel at one another. Tam felt the wind of the bullets and knew hismachine was struck. Then his enemy crumpled and fell. He did not waitto investigate. The bomber was firing up at his nearest opponent whenTam took the third in enfilade and saw the pilot's head disappear behindthe protective armoring. 

He swung round and saw the bombing machine diving straight for the earthwith the German scout on his tail. Tam followed in a dizzy drop. Threethousand feet from earth the bombing machine turned a completesomersault and Tam's heart leaped into his mouth. 

He banked over to follow the pursuing German and in the brief space oftime which intervened before his enemy could adjust his direction tocover pilot and gunner, Tam had both in line. His two guns trembled andflamed for four seconds and then the German dropped straight for earthand crashed in a flurry of smoke and flying débris. 

Tam looked backward. The bomber had pancaked and was drifting to alanding; the squadron was out of sight. Tam glided to the broad fieldbefore the hospital. 

"I knew it was you--I knew it was you!"

He looked down from the fuselage at the bright upturned face. 

"Oh, aye, it was me, " he admitted, "an' A'm michty glad ye was lookin', for A' was throwin' stunts for ye. "

He was on the ground now, loosening the collar of his leather jacket. Hestepped clear of the obstructing planes of his machine and lookedanxiously toward the gentle slopes of the ridge on which the bomber hadlanded. 

"Thank the guid Lord, " he said and sighed his relief. 

He was making a careful inspection of his own machine preparatory toreturning to the aerodrome when the girl came running across the fieldto say good-by. 

"I can't tell you just how I feel--how grateful I am. My brother saysyou saved his life. He was in that other machine, you know. "

"A' knew it, " said Tam. "'Twas a graund adventure, like you read abootin books--'twas ma low, theatrical mind that wanted it so. Good-by, young lady. "

"Till to-morrow--don't forget you're lunching with me at the Café St. Pierre. "

Tam smiled gravely. "A'm afraid ye'll have to postpone that lunch, " hesaid, "till--"

"Till to-morrow, " she interrupted firmly, and Tam flew back to theaerodrome without explaining. 

He was feeling the reaction of the morning's thrill, and when he landedhe had no answer to make to the congratulations which were poured uponhim. 

He made his way to his hut. His batman was cleaning a pair of boots andstood stiffly as Tam entered. 

"That'll do, Angus, ye may go, " he said, and then saw the folded coatupon his bed. "Ah, ye got it back, did ye--well, A'll no' be needin'it. "

He picked up the coat and frowned. 

"This is no' mine, Angus. "

"Your tunic is in the box, sir--this is the one the officers had madefor you. They wanted your other tunic for the measurements. "

Tam looked at the man. 

"Yon's an officer's tunic, Angus, " he said; "an' why do ye say 'sir' tome?"

Angus beamed and saluted with a flourish. 

"It's in General Orders this morning, sir--you've got a commission, an'Mr. Brandspeth says that the mess will be expectin' you to lunch atone-thirty. "

Tam sat down on the bed, biting his lip. 

"Get oot, Angus, " he said huskily, "an'--stay you! Ye'll find a seegairin the box under the bed--an', Angus, A'm lunchin' oot to-morrow. "

CHAPTER IX

A REPRISAL RAID

There are certain animals famous to every member of the BritishExpeditionary Force. 

There is a Welsh regiment's goat which ate up the plan of attack issuedby a brigadier-general, who bore a striking resemblance to somebody whowas not Napoleon, thus saving the Welsh regiment from annihilation andreproach. There is the dog of the Middlesex regiment, who always bitstaff-officers and was fourteen times condemned to death by elderly andirascible colonels, and fourteen times rescued by his devoted comrades. There is the Canadians' tame chicken, who sat waiting for nine-inchshells to fall, and then scratched over the ground they had disturbed;and there is last, but not least, that famous mascot of GeneralHospital One-Three-One, Hector O'Brien. 

Hector O'Brien was born in the deeps of a Congo forest. Of his earlylife little is known, but as far as can be gathered, he made his way toFrance by way of Egypt and Gallipoli and was presented by a gratefulpatient to the nursing sisters and ambulance staff of One-Three-One, andby them was adopted with enthusiasm. 

Hector O'Brien did precious little to earn either fame or notorietyuntil one memorable day. He used to sit in the surgery, before a largepacking-case, wistfully watching the skies and scratching himself in anabsent-minded manner. A chimpanzee may not cogitate very profoundly, andthe statement that he is a deep thinker though an indifferentconversationalist has yet to be proved; but it is certain that HectorO'Brien was a student of medicine, and that he did, on this memorableday to which reference has been made, perambulate the wards of thathospital from bed to bed, feeling pulses and shaking his head in a sortof melancholy helplessness which brought joy to the heart of eighthundred patients, some hundred doctors, nurses and orderlies, and didnot in any way disturb the melancholy principal medical officer, who waswholly unconscious of Hector's impertinent imitations. 

Second-Lieutenant Tam, who was a frequent visitor at One-Three-One, hadat an early stage struck up a friendship with Hector and had, I believe, taken him on patrol duty, Hector strapped tightly to the seat, holdingwith a grip of iron to the fuselage and chattering excitedly. 

Thereafter, upon the little uniform jacket which Hector wore on stateoccasions was stitched the wings of a trained pilot. It is necessary toexplain Hector's association with the R. F. C. In order that thesignificance of the subsequent adventure may be thoroughly appreciated. 

Tam was "up" one day and on a particular mission. He looked down upon abig and irregular checker-board covered with numbers of mad whitelines, which radiated from a white center and seemed to run franticallyin all directions save one. Across that course, and running parallelbeneath three of them was a straight silver thread. At the edge of hisvision and beyond the place where the white lines ended abruptly, therewere two irregular zigzags of yellow running roughly parallel. Behindeach of these were thousands of little yellow splotches. 

Tam banked over and came round on a hairpin turn, with his eyessearching the heavens above and below. A thousand feet beneath him was astraggling wisp of cloud, so tenuous that you saw the earth through itsbulk. Above was a smaller cloud, not so transparent, but too thin toafford a lurking place for his enemy. 

Tam was waiting for that famous gentleman, the "Sausage-Killer, " thesworn foe of all "O. B. 's. "

He paid little attention to the flaming lines because the"Sausage-Killer" never came direct from his aerodrome. You would see himstreaking across the sky, apparently on his urgent way to the sea basesand oblivious of the existence of Observation Balloons. 

Then he would turn, as though he had forgotten his passport and railwayticket and must go home quickly to get them. And before anybody realizedwhat was happening, he would be diving straight down at the straininggas-bags, his tracer bullets would be ranging the line, and from everycar would jump tiny black figures. You saw them falling straight asplummets till their parachutes took the air and opened. And there wouldbe a great blazing and burning of balloons, frantic work at the wincheswhich pulled them to earth, and the ballooning section would sendmessages to the aerodrome whose duty it was to protect them, apologizingfor awakening the squadron from its beauty sleep, but begging to reportthat hostile aircraft had arrived, had performed its dirty work and haddeparted with apparent immunity. 

The "Sausage-Killer" was due at 11. 20, and at 11. 18 Tam saw one solitaryairplane sweep wide of the balloon park, and turn on a course whichwould bring him along the line of the O. B. 's. Apparently, the"Sausage-Killer" was not so blessed in the matter of sight as Tam, forthe scout was on his tail and was pumping nickel through his tractor'sscrew before the destroyer of innocent gas-bags realized what hadhappened. 

"It was a noble end, " said Tam after he had landed, "and A'm no' so surethat he would have cared to be coonted oot in any other saircumstances;for the shepherd likes to die amongst his sheep and the captain on hisbridge, and this puir feller was verra content, A've no doot, to crashunder the een of his wee--"

"Did you kill him, Tam?" asked Blackie. 

"A'm no' so sure he's deid in the corporeal sense, " said Tamcautiously, "but he is removed from the roll of effectives. "

So far from being dead, the "Sausage-Killer, " who, appropriately enough, was ludicrously like a young butcher, with his red fat face and his coldblue eye, was very much alive and had a grievance. 

"Where did that man drop from?" he demanded truculently, "I didn't seehim. "

"I'm sorry, " said Blackie; "if we had known that, we would have got himto ring a bell or wave a flag. "

"That is frivolous, " said the German officer severely. 

"It is the best we can do, dear lad, " said Blackie, and didn't troubleto invite him to lunch. 

"Tam, you've done so well, " said the squadron leader at that meal, "thatI can see you being appointed official guardian angel to the O. B. 's. They are going to bring you some flowers. "

"And a testimonial with a purse of gold, " suggested Croucher, theyoungest of the flyers. 

"A'm no' desirin' popularity, " said Tam modestly, "'tis against maprinciples to accept any other presents than seegairs, and even theseA'm loath to accept unless they're good ones. "

He looked at his wrist watch, folded his serviette and rose from themess-table with a little nod to the president. 

It was a gratifying fact, which Blackie had remarked, that SecondLieutenant, late Sergeant, Tam, had taken to the mess as naturally as aduck to water. He showed neither awkwardness nor shyness, but this wasconsonant with his habit of thought. Once attune your mind to thereception of the unexpected, so that even the great and vital facts oflife and death leave you unshaken and unamazed, and the lesserquantities are adjusted with ease. 

Tam had new quarters, his batman had become his servant, certain littlecomforts which were absent from the bunk were discoverable in the cozylittle room he now occupied. 

 * * * * *

His day's work was finished and he was bound on an expedition which wasone part business and nine parts joy-ride, frank and undisguised, forthe squadron-car had been placed at his disposal. The road to Amiens wasdry, the sun was up, and the sky was blue, and behind him was thesatisfactory sense of good work well done, for the "Sausage-Killer" wasat that moment on his way back to the base, sitting vis-à-vis with agrimy young military gentleman who cuddled a rifle and a fixed bayonetwith one hand and played scales on a mouth-organ with the other, softly, since he was a mere learner, and this was an opportunity for makingjoyful noises without incurring the opprobrium of his superiors. 

Tam enjoyed the beauty and freshness of the early afternoon, everyminute of it. He drove slowly, his eyes wandering occasionally from theroad to make a professional scrutiny of the skies. He spotted thelonely watches of 89 Squadron and smiled, for 89 had vowed many oathsthat they would catch the "Sausage-Killer, " and had even initiated asweepstakes for the lucky man who crashed him. 

At a certain quiet restaurant on the Grand' Place he found a girlwaiting for him, a girl in soiled khaki, critically examining the menu. 

She looked up with a smile as the young man came in, hung his cap upon apeg and drew out the chair opposite. 

"I have ordered the tea, though it is awfully early, " she said; "nowtell me what you have been doing all the morning. "

She spoke with an air of proprietorship, a tone which marked theprogress of this strange friendship, which had indeed gone very farsince Tam's violent introduction to Vera Laramore on the Amiens road. 

"Weel, " said Tam, and hesitated. 

"Please don't give me a dry report, " she warned him. "I want the realstory, with all its proper fixings. "

"Hoo shall A' start?" asked Tam. 

"You start with the beginning of the day. Now, properly, Tam. "

Her slim finger threatened him. 

"Is it literature ye'd be wanting?" asked Tam shyly. 

She nodded, and Tam shut his eyes and began after the style of anamateur elocutionist:

"The dawn broke fair and bonny an' the fairest rays of the rising sunfell upon the sleeping 'Sausage-Killer'--"

"Who is the 'Sausage-Killer'?" asked the girl, startled. 

"He'll be the villain of the piece, A'm thinkin', " said Tam, "but if yeinterrupt--"

"I am sorry, " murmured the girl, apologetically. 

She sat with her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her claspedhands and her eyes fixed on Tam, eyes that danced with amusement, withadmiration, and with just that hint of tenderness that you might expectin the proud mother showing off the accomplishments of her first-born. 

"--fell aboot the heid of the Sausage-Killer, '" Tam went on, "bathin'his shaven croon wi' saft radiance. There was a discreet tap at thedoor, and Wilhelm MacBethmann, his faithful retainer, staggered in, bearin' his cup of acorn coffee. 

"'Rise, _mein Herr_, ' says he, 'get oot o' bed, ma bonnie laird. '

"'What o'clock is it, Angus?' says the 'Sausage-Killer, ' sitting up andrubbing his eyes. 

"'It's seven, your Majesty, ' says MacBethmann, 'shall I lay out yeersynthetic sausage or shall I fry up yesterday's sauerkraut?'

"But the 'Sausage-Killer' shakes his head. 

"'_Mon_ Angus, ' he says, 'A've had a heedious dream. A' dreamt, ' sayshe, 'that A' went for to kill a wee sausage and A' dived for him andmissed him and before A' could recover, the sausage bit me. 'Tis awarning, ' says he. 

"'Sir, ' says MacBethmann, trembling in every limb and even in his neck, 'ye'd be wise no' to go out the day. '

"But the prood 'Sausage-Killer' rises himself to his full length. 

"'Unhand ma pants, Angus, ' says he, 'ma duty calls, ' and away goes thepuir wee feller to meet his doom at the hands of the Terror of theSkies. "

"That's you, " said the girl. 

"Ye're a good guesser, " said Tam, pouring out the tea the waiter hadbrought. "Do ye take sugar or are ye a victim of the cocktail habit?"

"Did you kill him?" asked the girl. 

"Poleetically and in a military sense the 'Sausage-Killer' is dead, "said Tam; "as a human being he is still alive, being detained during hisMajesty's displeasure. "

"You will tell me the rest, won't you?" she pleaded. With her, Taminvariably ended his romances at the point where they could only becontinued by the relation of his own prowess, "and I'm glad you broughthim down--it makes me shudder to see the balloons burning. Oh, and doyou know they bombed Number One-Three-One last night?"

"Ye don't say!"

There was amazement in his look, but there was pain, too. The traditionsof the air service had become his traditions. A breach of the unwrittencode by the enemy was almost as painful a matter to him as though it wascommitted by one of his own comrades. For his spiritual growth had datedfrom the hour of his enlistment, and that period of life wherein youthabsorbs its most vivid and most eradicable impressions, had coincidedwith the two years he had spent in his new environment. 

He understood nothing of the army and its intimate life, of its fierceand wholesome code. He could only wonder at the courage and theendurance of those men on the ground who were cheerful in allcircumstances. They amazed and in a sense depressed him. He had beenhorrified to see snipers bayoneted without mercy, without being given achance to surrender, not realizing that the sniper is outside allconcession and can not claim any of the rough courtesies of war. 

He had placed his enemy on a pedestal, and it hurt almost as much toknow that the German fell short of his conception as it would have, hadone of his own comrades been guilty of an unpermissible act. 

Hospitals had been bombed before, but there was a chance that thewandering night-bird had dropped his pills in ignorance of what laybeneath him. Of late, however, hospitals and clearing stations had beenattacked with such persistence that there was very little doubt that theenemy was deliberately carrying out a hideous plan. 

"Ye don't say?" he repeated, and the girl noticed that his voice was alittle husky. "Were ye--" he hesitated. 

"I was on convoy duty, fortunately, " said the girl, "but that doesn'tsave you in the daytime, and I have been bombed lots of times, althoughthe red cross on the top of the ambulance is quite clear--isn't it?"

Tam nodded. 

"There was no damage?" he asked anxiously. 

"Not very much in one way, " she said, "he missed the hospital but gotthe surgery and poor Hector--" She stopped, and he saw tears in hereyes. 

"Ye don't tell me?" he asked, startled. 

She nodded. 

"Puir Hector; well, that's too bad, puir wee little feller!"

"Everybody is awfully upset about it, he was such a cheery little chap. He was killed quite--nastily. " She hesitated to give the grisly details, but Tam, who had seen the effect of high explosive bombs, had nodifficulty in reconstructing the scene where Hector laid down his lifefor his adopted country. 

When he got back to the aerodrome that night he found that the bombingof hospitals was the subject which was exciting the mess to theexclusion of all others. 

"It's positively ghastly that a decent lot of fellows like German airmencan do such diabolical things, " said Blackie; "we are so helpless. Wecan't go along and bomb his collecting stations. "

"Fritz's material is deteriorating, " said a wing commander; "there's notenough gentlemen to go round. Everybody who knows Germany expected thisto happen. You don't suppose fellows like Boltke or Immelmann orRichthoven would have done such a swinish thing?"

That same night One-Three-One was bombed again, this time with moredisastrous effects. One of the raiders was brought down by Blackiehimself, who shot both the pilot and the observer, but the raid was onlyone of many. 

The news came through in the morning that a systematic bombing of fieldhospitals had been undertaken from Ypres to the Somme. At two o'clockthat afternoon Blackie summoned his squadron. 

"There's a retaliation stunt on to-night, " he explained; "we are gettingup a scratch raid into Germany. You fellows will be in for it. Tam, youwill be my second in command. "

 * * * * *

At ten o'clock that night the squadron rose and headed eastward. Themoon was at its full, but there was a heavy ground mist, and at sixthousand feet a thin layer of clouds which afforded the raiders a littlecover. 

Tam was on the left of the diamond formation, flying a thousand feetabove the bombers, and for an hour and a half his eyes were glued uponthe signal light of his leader. Presently their objective came intosight: a spangle of lights on the ground. You could follow the streetsand the circular sweep of the big Central Platz and even distinguish thebridges across the Rhine, then of a sudden the lights blurred and becameindistinct, and Tam muttered an impatient "Tchk, " for the squadron wasrunning into a cloud-bank which might be small but was more likely to befairly extensive. 

They were still able to distinguish the locality, until three spurts ofred flame in the very center of the town marked the falling of the firstbombs. Then all the prominent lights went out. There were hundreds offeeble flickers from the houses, but after a while these too faded anddied. In their place appeared the bright, staring faces of thesearchlights as they swept the clouds. 

Tam saw the flash of guns, saw the red flame-flowers of the bombs burstto life and die, and straining his eyes through the mist caught the"Return" signal of his leader. He banked round and ran into a thickerpall of fog and began climbing. As he turned he saw a quick, red, angryflash appear in the clouds and something whistled past his head. Theguns had got the altitude of the bombers to a nicety and Tam grinned. 

By this time Blackie's lights were out of sight and Tam was alone. Helooked down at his compass and the quivering needle now pointed to hisright, which meant he was on the homeward track. He kept what he thoughtwas a straight course, but the needle swung round so that it pointedtoward him. He banked over again to the right and swore as he saw theneedle spin round as though some invisible finger was twirling it. 

Now the airplane compass is subject to fits of madness. 

There are dozens of explanations as to why such things occur, but therecollection of a few of these did not materially assist the scout. Thething to do was to get clear of the clouds and take his direction by thestars. He climbed and climbed, until his aeronometer pointed to twentythousand feet. By this time it was necessary to employ the apparatuswhich he possessed for sustaining himself at this altitude. It wasamazing that the clouds should be so high, and he began to think thathis aeronometer was out of order when he suddenly dived up into thelight of a cold moon. 

He looked around, seeking the pole-star, and found it on his left. Soall the time he had been running eastward. 

And then his engine began to miss. 

Tam was a philosopher and a philosopher never expects miracles. Heunderstood his engine as a good jockey understands his horse. He pushedthe nose of his machine earthward and planed down through aninterminable bank of clouds until he found a gray countryside running upto meet him. There were no houses, no lights, nothing but a wide expanseof country dotted with sparse copses. 

There was sufficient light to enable him to select a landing-place, andhe came down in the middle of a big pasture on the edge of a forest ofgaunt trees. 

He unstrapped himself and climbed down, stretching his limbs before hetook a gentle trot around the machine to restore his circulation. Thenhe climbed back into the fuselage and tinkered at the engine. He knewwhat was wrong and remedied the mischief in a quarter of an hour. Thenhe inspected his petrol supply and whistled. He had made a roughcalculation and he knew within a few miles how far he was in theinterior of Germany, and by the character of the country he knew he wasin the marshy lands of Oosenburg, and there was scarcely enough petrolto reach the Rhine. 

He left his machine, slipped an automatic pistol into the pocket of hisoverall and went on a voyage of exploration. 

Half a mile from where he landed, he struck what he gathered was ahigh-road and proceeded cautiously, for the high-road would probably bepatrolled, the more so if the noise of his machine had been correctlyinterpreted, though it was in his favor that he had shut off his enginesand had planed down for five miles without a sound. 

There was nobody in sight. To the left the road stretched in thediffused moonlight, a straight white ribbon unbroken by any habitation. To the right he discerned a small hut, and to this he walked. He hadtaken a dozen steps when a voice challenged him in German. At this pointthe road was sunken and it was from the shadow of the cutting that thechallenge came. 

"Hello, " said Tam in English, and a little figure started out. 

Tam saw the rifle in his hand and caught the glitter of a bayonet. 

"You English?" said a voice. 

"Scotch, " said Tam severely. 

"Aha!" There was a note of exultation. "You English-escaped prisoner! Ihaf you arrested and with me to the Commandant of Camp 74 you shall go. "

"Is it English ye're speakin'?" said Tam. 

The little man came closer to him. He stood four feet three and he wasvery fat. He wore no uniform, and was evidently one of those patrioticsouls who undertake spare-time guard duty. His presence was explained byhis greeting. Some men had escaped from the German prison-camp sevenmiles away and he was one of the sentries who were watching the road. 

"You come mit me, _vorwärts_!"

Tam obeyed meekly and stepped out to the hut. 

"I keep you here. Presently the _Herr Leutnant_ will come and you shallgo back. "

He walked into the hut and waited in silence while the little man strucka match and lit an oil-lamp. The sentry fixed the glass chimney andturned to face the muzzle of Tam's automatic pistol. 

"Sit down, ma wee frien', " said Tam; "let ma take that gun away from yebefore ye hairt yeersel'--maircifu' Heavens!"

He was staring at the little man, but it was not the obvious terror ofthe civilian which fascinated him, it was the big, white, unshaven face, the long upper lip, and the low corrugated brow under thestiff-bristling hair, the small twinkling eyes, and the broad, almostanimal, nose that held him for a moment speechless. 

"Hector O'Brien!" gasped Tam, and almost lost his grasp of the situationin the discovery of this amazing likeness. "A' thought ye was dead, "said Tam. "Oh, Hector, we have missed ye!"

The little man, his shaking hands uplifted, could only chatterincoherently. It needed this to complete the resemblance to the deceasedmascot of One-Three-One. 

"Ma puir wee man, " said Tam, as he scientifically tied the hands of hisprisoner, "so the Gairmans got ye after all. "

"You shall suffer great punishment, " his prisoner was spurred by fear tooffer a protest. "Presently the _Herr Leutnant_ will come with hismotor-car. "

"God bless ye for those encouraging words, " said Tam. "Now will ye tellme how many soldiers are coming along?"

"Four--six--" began the prisoner. 

"Make it ten, " said Tam, examining the magazine of his pistol. "A' canmanage wi' ten, but if there's eleven, A' shall have to fight 'im in avulgar way wi' ma fists. Ye'll sit here, " said he, "and ye will notspeak. "

He went to the untidy bed, and taking a coarse sacking-sheet he wound itabout the man's mouth. Then he went to the door and waited. 

Presently he heard the hum of the car, and saw two twinkling lightscoming from the eastward. Nearer and nearer came the motor-car andpulled up with a jerk before the hut. 

There were two men, a chauffeur and an officer, cloaked and overcoated, in the tonneau. The officer opened the door of the car and stepped down. 

"Franz!" he barked. Tam stepped out into the moonlight. 

"Is it ma frien' ye're calling?" he asked softly. "And will ye pit upyeer hands. "

"Who--who--" demanded the officer. 

"Dinna make a noise like an owl, " said Tam, "or you will frighten thewee birdies. Get out of that, McClusky. " This to the chauffeur. 

He marched them inside the hut and searched them. The officer had comeprovidentially equipped with a pair of handcuffs, which Tam used tofasten the well-born and the low-born together. Then he made anexamination of the car, and to his joy discovered six cans of petrol, for in this deserted region where petrol stores are non-existent apatrol car carries two days' supply. 

He brought his three prisoners out, loosened the bonds of the littleman, and after a little persuasion succeeded in inducing his threeunwilling porters to carry the tins across a rough field to where hisplane was standing. 

In what persiflage he indulged, what bitter and satirical things he saidof Germans and Germany is not recorded. They stood in abject silencewhile he replenished his store of petrol and then--

"Up wi' ye, " said he to Hector O'Brien's counterpart. 

"For why?" asked the affrighted man. 

"Up wi' ye, " said Tam sternly; "climb into that seat and fix the beltaround ye, quick--A'm taking ye back to yeer home!"

His pistol-point was very urgent and the little man scrambled up behindthe pilot's seat. 

"Now, you, McClusky, " said Tam, following him and deftly strappinghimself, "ye'll turn that propeller--pull it down so, d'ye hear me, yemiserable chauffeur!"

The man obeyed. He pulled over the propeller-blade twice, then jumpedback as with a roar the engine started. 

As the airplane began to move, first slowly and then gathering speedwith every second, Tam saw the two men break into a run toward the roadand the waiting motor-car. 

Behind him he felt rather than heard slight grunts and groans from hisunhappy passenger, and then at the edge of the field he brought up theelevator and the little scout, roaring like a thousand express trains, shot up through the mist and disappeared from the watchers on the roadin the low-hanging clouds, bearing to the bereaved and saddened staff ofOne-Three-One Hector O'Brien's understudy. 

CHAPTER X

THE LAST LOAD

Along a muddy road came an ambulance. It was moving slowly, zigzaggingfrom side to side to avoid the shell holes and the subsidences which thecollapse of ancient trenches on each side of the road had caused. It wasa secondary or even a tertiary road, represented on the map by a spideryline, and was taken by driver Vera Laramore because there was no better. 

From the rear end of the ambulance showed eight muddy soles, three pairswith toes upturned, the fourth at such an angle, one foot with theother, as to suggest a pain beyond any but this mute expression. 

On the tail-board of the ambulance an orderly of the R. A. M. C. Balanced himself, gaunt-eyed, unshaven, caked from head to foot inyellow mud, the red cross on his untidy brassard looming faintly fromits grimy background. Beyond the soles with their worn and glaringnails, a disorderly rumple of brown army blankets, and between thestretchers a confusion of entangled haversacks, water-bottles andequipment, there was nothing to be seen of the patients, though a thinblue haze which curled along the tilt showed that one at least was wellenough to smoke. 

The ambulance made its slow way through the featureless country, pastrubble heaps which had once been the habitations of men and women, splintered trunks of poplar avenues, great excavations where shells ofan immense caliber had fallen long ago and the funnel shapes of whichwere now overgrown with winter weeds. 

Presently the ambulance turned on to the main road and five peopleheaved a sigh of thankfulness, the sixth, he of the eloquent soles, being without interest in anything. 

The car with its sad burden passed smoothly along the broad level road, such a road as had never been seen in France or in any other countrybefore the war, increasing its speed as it went. Red-capped policemen atthe crossroads held up the traffic--guns and mechanical transport, mud-splashed staff cars and tramping infantry edged closer to the sideto let it pass. 

Presently the car turned again, swept past a big aerodrome--the girl whodrove threw one quick glance, had a glimpse of the parade-ground but didnot recognize the man she hoped to see--and a few minutes later she wasslowing the ambulance before the reception room of General HospitalOne-Three-One. 

The R. A. M. C. Man dismounted, nodded to other R. A. M. C. Men moretidy, more shaven, and a little envious it seemed of their comrade'sdishabille and the four cases were lifted smoothly and swiftly andcarried into the big hut. 

"All right, driver, " said the R. A. M. C. Sergeant when four stretchersand eight neatly folded blankets had been put into the ambulance toreplace those she had surrendered, and Vera, with a little jerk of herhead, sent the car forward to the park. 

She brought her machine in line with one of the four rows, checked herarrival and walked wearily over to her quarters. She had been out thatmorning since four, she had seen sights and heard sounds which adelicately nurtured young woman, who three years before had shuddered atthe sight of a spider, could never in her wildest nightmare imaginewould be brought to her sight or hearing. She was weary, body and soul, sick with the nausea which is incomparable to any other. And now she wasat the end of it. Her application for long leave had followed thesmashing up of her airman brother and his compulsory retirement inEngland. 

And yet she could not bear the thought of leaving all this; the horrorand the wonder of it were alike fascinating. She felt the same pangs ofremorse she had experienced on the one occasion she had run away fromschool. She branded herself as a deserter and looked upon those who hadthe nerve and will to stay on with something of envy. 

Her plain-spoken friend was sitting on her bed in a kimono as the girlcame in. 

"Well?" she asked. 

"Well, what?" asked Vera irritably. 

"Are you sorry you are leaving us?"

"I haven't left yet, " said the girl, sitting down and unstrapping herleather leggings slowly. 

"You don't go till to-morrow, that's true, " said the other girl calmly, "and how have you rounded off all your little--friendships?" There wasjust the slightest of pauses between the two last words. 

"You mean Lieutenant MacTavish?" asked Vera distraitly. 

"I mean Tam, " said the girl with a nod. 

"Exactly what do you mean by 'rounded off'?"

The other girl laughed. "Well, there are many ways of a friendship, "she smiled; "there's the 'If-you-come-to-my-town-look-me-up' way. There's the 'You'll-write-every-day' way--and--" She hesitated again. 

"Go on, " said Vera calmly. 

"And there's--well, the conventional way. "

Vera smiled. "I can't imagine Tam doing anything conventional, " shesaid. 

Elizabeth jumped up with a laugh, walked to the little baredressing-table and began brushing her hair. 

"Why do you laugh?" asked Vera. 

"The whole thing's so curious, " replied the girl. "Here's a man who ishead-over-heels in love with you--"

"In love with me!"

Vera Laramore went red and white by turns and lost, for a moment, hergrasp of the situation, then grew virtuously indignant, which was atactical error for if she were innocent of such a thought as that whichher friend expressed she should have been either amused or curious. 

"How can you talk such rubbish? Tam and I are jolly good friends. He isa real fine man, as straight as a die and as plucky as he's straight. Hehas more sense, more judgment--" She was breathless. 

"Spare me the catalogue of his virtues, " said Elizabeth drily. "I granthe is perfection and therefore unlovable. All that I asked you out ofsheer idle curiosity was: How is your friendship to be rounded off?"

Vera was silent. "I shall see him to-night, of course, " she said with afine air of unconcern, "and I hope we shall part the best of friends;but as to his being in love with me, that is nonsense!"

"Of course it is, " said Elizabeth soothingly. 

"What makes you think he is in love with me?" Vera asked suddenly. 

"Symptoms. "

"But what symptoms?"

"Well, you are always together. He drops bunches of flowers for you onyour birthday. "

"Pshaw!" said Vera scornfully. "I thought you had more knowledge of menand women. That is friendship. "

"Ha, ha!" laughed Elizabeth politely. 

"But honestly, " asked Vera, "what makes you think so?"

"I won't tell you any more, " said the girl, turning around and tying herhair, "but I will put a straight question to you, my dear; do you loveTam?"

"Of course not, " Vera was red; "you are making me very uncomfortable. Itell you he is a good friend of mine and I respect him enormously. "

"And you don't love him?"

"Of course I don't love him. What a stupid thing to imagine!"

"Such things have happened, " said the girl. 

"I have never thought of such a thing, " said Vera; "but suppose I did, of course it's an absurd idea, but suppose I did?"

"If I were you and I did, " said the girl, "I should tell him so. "

"Elizabeth!"

"It sounds bold, doesn't it? But I will tell you why I make thatsuggestion, because if you don't tell him he won't tell you. You see, mydear, you are a very rich young woman, a very well-educated young woman, you have a social position and a large number of friends. Tam is aself-educated man, with no money and very few prospects and no socialposition, and, as you say, he is straight and honest--"

"He is the straightest and most honest man in the world, " said Verawarmly. 

"Well, in those circumstances can't you see, he would no more think ofasking for you than he would of calling at Buckingham Palace anddemanding the Kohinoor!"

"In America, " said Vera, "we haven't those absurd ideas. "

"Oh, shucks!" said Elizabeth contemptuously. "You seem to forget I wasborn in Pennsylvania. "

And there the conversation ended, and for the rest of the day Vera wassilent and thoughtful, excusing her taciturnity by the fact that she hada lot of packing to do and needed to concentrate her mind upon itsperformance. 

The mortal foe to instinct is reason. They are the negative and positiveof mental volition. The man who retains the animal gift of unreasoningdivination, preserving that clear power against the handicaps which mindtraining and education impose, is necessarily psychic, or, as they sayin certain Celtic countries, "fey. "

Tam went up on patrol flying a new "pup"--a tiny machine powerfullyengined, which climbed at an angle of fifty degrees and at a surprisingspeed. He pushed up through a fog bank at three thousand feet andreached blue skies. His engine was running sweetly, there was just the"give" in his little chaser, the indefinable resilience which a goodmachine should possess, his guns were in excellent order, his controlsworked smoothly, but--

Tam was at a loss how to proceed from that "but. "

He turned the nose of the "pup" to earth and planed down to theaerodrome. 

Blackie left the machine he was about to take and walked across to Tam. 

"Anything wrong?" he asked. 

"Weel, " replied Tam cautiously, "I'd no' go so far as to say thatthere's verra much wrong wi' the young fellow. "

Blackie looked at him keenly. 

"Engines--?"

Tam shook his head. 

"No, they were wairking bonnily--there's nothing to complain aboot onlyI just felt that 'pup' an' Tam was no thinkin' the same way. "

"Oh!" said Blackie. 

He examined the machine, a new one, with the greatest care, tested thecontrols, examined and sounded stays and struts and shook his head. 

"Take up Bartholomew's machine--he went sick this morning, " he said. 

Tam superintended the preparation of Lieutenant Bartholomew's "pup" andclimbing in gave the signal. 

"What's the matter with Tam?"

Thornycroft, a flight commander of 89 A, had strolled across and stoodwith Blackie watching Tam's tiny machine humming cloudward. 

"Tam has what is called on the other side a 'hunch, '" said Blackie;"come and look at this machine and see if you can find anything wrongwith it. She's new from the maker, " he went on, "in fact, the younggentleman who represents the firm is at this moment in the mess layingdown the law on aviation, its past, present and illimitablefuture--there he is!"

Thornycroft paused in his inspection to watch the newcomer. He was ayoung man of singular confidence, who talked so very loudly to theofficer who accompanied him that the two men by the machine feltthemselves included in the conversation long before they could makethemselves audible in reply. 

"Hello--hello, " said Mr. Theodore Mann, "what's wrong--eh?"

"One of my best pilots took her up and didn't like her, " said Blackie. 

"Didn't like her? What's wrong with her--cold feet, eh? Bless you, theyall get it sooner or later--'the pitcher goes often to the well, ' etcetera. That's a proverb that every flying man should unlearn, eh?"

He leapt lightly into the machine and jiggled the joy-stick. 

"I'll take her up if you don't mind--hi, you!" he called a mechanic, "start her up--ready--contact! Z-r-r-r--!"

The little bird skimmed the smooth floor of the aerodrome and divedupward in a wide circle. 

"She's all right, " said Thornycroft, shading his eyes; "what's wrongwith Tam, I wonder?"

"Tam doesn't funk a thing, " protested Blackie, "I've never known him--myGod!"

Apparently nothing happened--only the machine without warning buckled upand broke two thousand feet in the air, a wing dropped off and acrumpled thing, which bore no resemblance to an airplane, droppedstraight as a plummet to earth. 

It fell less than a hundred yards from the aerodrome and Mr. TheodoreMann was dead when they pulled him from the wreckage. 

Blackie directed the salvage work and returned a very thoughtful man. When Tam returned from his tour he sent for him. 

"You have heard the news, I suppose?"

Tam nodded gravely. 

"Now, tell me, Tam, " said Blackie, "did you feel anything wrong with themachine--why did you bring her down?"

"Sir-r, " said Tam, "I'll no' romance an' A'm tellin' ye Flyin'-Coortruth. I saw nothin' an' felt nothin'--the engines were guid an' sweetan' she swung like a leddy, but--"

"But?"

"Weel, what would ye say if ye were zoomin' up an' of a sudden, for noreason, yeer hair stood up an' yeer flesh went creepy an' yeer mouthgrew as dry as Sunday morning? An' there was a cauld, cauld sensationunder yeer belt an' the skin aboot yeer eyes was all strained and yesmelt things an' tasted things sharper, as if all yeer senses was racin'like the propeller of a boat when her bow goes under water?"

Blackie shivered. "That's how you felt, eh?" he asked. "Well, youneedn't explain further, Tam. "

"'Tis the airman's sixty-sixth sense, " said Tam. "If he's worried or sadthat sixty-sixth sense gets thrown up and becomes more veevid, if ye'llunderstand me. "

"Worried? Sad?" said Blackie quickly. "What's worrying you, Tam?Haven't you had your pay this month?"

Tam smiled slowly. "What that young fellow, Cox, is doing wi' ma fortunedoesna keep me awake at nights, " he said; "the MacTavishes are feckless, extravagant bodies and it no' concairns me whether ma balance is onepoond or two. "

"What is worrying you?" asked Blackie. 

"Weel, " said Tam slowly, "A'm just a wee bit grieved. A frien' o' mineis leaving France. "

"Friend of yours?" said Blackie. "Who is your friend?"

"He is a braw big fellow about six foot high wi' muscular arms and curlyhair, " said Tam. "His name's Jamie Macfarlane, and his mither's a leddyin her own right. "

Thus embarked upon his career of mendacity the artist in Tam compelledhim to complete the picture. 

"We were at school together, Angus and A'. "

"You said Jamie just now, Tam, " reproved Blackie. 

"Angus is his second name, " said the glib Tam; "we were brought up inthe same village, the village of Glascae, and tramped off to the samecollege at six every morning when the bummer went. There'd we sit, meand Alec. "

"Angus, " suggested Blackie. 

"Me and Alec Angus Jamie Macfarlane, " said the undisturbed Tam, "listenin' wi' eager ears to the discoorses of Professor Ferguson whotook the Chair in Rivets at the Govan Iron Works Seminary, drinkin' outof the same mug--"

"Tam, you're lying, " said Blackie; "what is really worrying you andwho's your friend?"

Tam heaved a sigh. "Ah, weel, " he said, "A' shall be wanting to go intoAmiens, to-night, Captain Blackie, sir-r, and A've a graund poem at theback of me heid that A'd like to be writing. You'll no' be wanting me?"

"Not till four, " said Captain Blackie; "I want you to stand by then incase Fritz tries something funny. The circus paid a visit to 89yesterday evening and it may be our turn to-night. "

Tam closed and locked the door of his room, produced a large pad ofwriting-paper, an ink-well, and fitted his pen with a new nib before hebegan his valedictory poem. 

Never had a poem been more difficult to write to this ready versifier. He crossed out and rewrote, he destroyed sheet after sheet before therough work of his hands was ready for polishing. 

 "How may a puir wee airman fly When ye have carried off his sky?"

the verse began, and perhaps those were the two most extravagant linesin the farewell verse. 

He wrote a fair copy, folded it carefully, inserted it into an envelopeand slipped it into his breast pocket. He was to see Vera that nightand had no other feeling but one of blank helplessness, for he hadneither the right nor the desire to reveal by one word his closelyguarded secret, a secret which he fondly believed was shared by none. 

His plan was to give her the envelope on the promise that it should notbe opened and read until she had reached America. He had invented andcarefully rehearsed certain cautious words of farewell, so designed thatshe might accept them on the spot as conventional expressions of hisregret at her leaving, but pondering them afterward, could discover inthese simple phrases a hint of his true sentiment. 

Such was the difficulty of composition that he was late for parade. Allthe squadron which was not actually engaged in routine duty was present. Ordinarily they would have been dismissed after the briefest wait, butto-day Blackie kept gunners, observers and pilots standing by theirmachines. 

At half-past four Blackie hurried across from his office. "There's ageneral alarm, " he said. "Everybody is to go up. Tam, take number sixand patrol the area. "

As the machines rose a big motor-car came flying on to the ground andtwo staff officers alighted. 

Blackie turned and saluted his brigadier. "We only just got the messagethrough, sir, " he said. 

The general nodded. "It was signalled to me on the road, " he said; "Iexpected it. Who is in charge of that flight?"

"Mr. MacTavish, sir. "

"Tam, eh?" The general nodded his approval. "The circus is getting bigand bold, " he said; "Fritz has a new machine and he is making the mostof it. There they come, the beauties!"

He slipped his field-glasses from the case at his belt and focused themupon the sky. The enemy came, a graceful V-shaped flight of monstrousgeese, throbbing and humming, and the wandering patrols above changeddirection and flew to meet them. 

As at a signal the V parted at the fork, each angle divided andsubdivided into two, so that where one broad arrow-head had been, werefour diamonds. The anti-aircraft guns were staining the evening skiesbrown and white till the attacking squadrons came gliding like tinyflies into the disturbed area, when the gun-fire ceased. 

And now friend and enemy were so mixed that it needed an expert eye todistinguish them. They circled, climbed, dived, looped over and aboutone another, and it seemed as if the tendency of the oncoming wave wasto retire. 

"They're going. They've had enough, " said the general. 

Two machines were wobbling to earth, one in a blaze, whilst a thirdplaned down toward the enemy's lines. The fighters were going fartherand farther away, all except three machines that seemed engaged inweaving an invisible thread one about the other. 

Under and over, round, up, down, and all the time the ceaseless chatterof machine-guns. 

Then one side-slipped, recovered and dropped on his tail to earth. Thefight was now between two machines, the maneuvers were repeated, thesame knitting of some queer design until--

"Got him!" yelled the general. 

The German plane fell in that slow spiral which told its own tale to theexpert watchers. Then suddenly his nose went down and he crashed. 

"Who's the man? Tam, for a ducat!"

Blackie nodded. 

Tam's machine was planing down to earth. 

"He'll miss the aerodrome, " said the general. 

"That's not Tam's way of returning at all, " said Blackie with knittedbrows. 

The machine dropped in the very field where the "Sausage-Killer" hadbeen brought down a week before. It did not skim down but landedawkwardly, swaying from side to side until it came to a stand-still. 

Blackie was racing across the field. He reached the machine and took oneglance at the pilot. Then he turned to the mechanic who followed at hisheels. 

"'Phone an ambulance, " he said; "they've got Tam at last. "

For Tam sat limply in his seat, his chin on his breast, his hand stillclasped about the bloody grip of his machine-gun. 

 * * * * *

The matron beckoned Vera. 

"Here's your last job, Vera, " she said with a smile. "Take your car tothe aerodrome. One of the pilots has been killed. "

Vera stared. "At the aerodrome?"

Control it as she might, her voice shook. 

"Yes--didn't you see the fight in the air?"

"I came out as it was finishing--oh, may I take the ambulance?"

The matron looked at her in wonder. "Yes, child, take the Staffordcar, " she nodded to an ambulance which waited on the broad drive. 

Without another word Vera ran to the car and cranked it up. As sheclimbed into the driver's seat she felt her knees trembling. 

"Please God, it isn't Tam!" she prayed as she drove the little car alongthe aerodrome road; "not Tam, dear Lord--not Tam!"

And yet, by the very panic within her she knew it was Tam and noneother. 

"To the left, I think. "

She looked round in affright. 

She had been oblivious to the fact that a doctor had taken his seat byher side--it was as though he had emerged from nothingness and hadassumed shape and substance as he spoke. 

She turned her wheel mechanically, bumped across a little ditch andpassed through a broken fence to where a knot of men were regardingsomething on the ground. 

She hardly stopped the ambulance before she leapt out and pushed herway through the group. 

"Tam!" she whispered and at that moment Tam opened his eyes. He lookedin wonder from face to face, then his eyes rested on the girl. 

She was down on her knees by his side in a second and her hand was underhis head. 

"Tam!" she whispered and thrilled at the look which came into his blueeyes. 

Then before them all she bent her head and kissed him. 

"From which moment, " said Blackie afterward, "Tam began one of the mostremarkable recoveries medical science has ever recorded. He had threebullets through his chest, one through his shoulder-blade, and two ofhis ribs were broken. "

Tam closed his eyes. "Vera, " he murmured. 

She looked up, self-possessed, and eyed Blackie steadily as the doctorstooped over the stricken man on the other side and gingerly felt forthe wounds. 

"Tam is going to live, Captain Blackie, " she said, "because he knows Iwant him to--don't you, dear?"

"Aye--lassie, " said Tam faintly. 

"Because--because, " she said, "we are going to be married, aren't we, Tam?"

He nodded and she stooped to listen. "Say it--in--Scotch. "

She said it--in his ear, her eyes bright and shining, her face as pinkas the sunset flooding the scene and then she got up to her feet andthey lifted the stretcher and slid it gently into the grooved guides onthe floor of the ambulance. 

"Now--driver, " said the doctor with a little smile. 

She went to her place and mounted to the seat. The hands that touchedthe polished wheel trembled and she slipped back to the ground again, her face white. 

"I can't--I can't drive him, " she said and burst into tears uponBlackie's shoulder. 

So Blackie drove the car himself and left his general to wipe Vera'seyes. 

A month later Captain Blackie went to Havre to see Tam en route forhome. 

"You're a wonderful fellow, Tam--you ought to be dead really instead ofbeing bound for England. "

"Scotland, " corrected Tam. 

"But don't you think you're lucky?"

"Weel, " said Tam, "I did until the morn, then I struck a verra badpatch. "

"Bad luck, " said the innocent and surprised Blackie, "I am sorry to hearthat. What happened?"

"The big feller, the principal doctor, " said Tam, "said I might smoke awee seegair, and, believe me, Captain Blackie, sir-r, when I looked inma pooch there wasna a single--"

Blackie took his cigar-case from his pocket, opened and extended it. 

"Tam, " he said, "you're nearly well. "

 THE END

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TRANSCRIBERS NOTES:

Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters errors andomissions, and to regularize usage within the Scot's dialect of the maincharacter; otherwise, every effort has been made to ensure that thise-text is true to the original book.