They landed in a newly ploughed field, the worst possible sort of place for a disabled machine. The lieutenant and Ralph were thrown out of their seats, but Alfred was held fast in the machine.

Many willing helpers were on hand, and they found all three of the flyers were unconscious when put into the van, but, fortunately, they were within a half mile of the emergency hospital south of St. Mihiel.

On the way to the hospital a hurried survey was made to ascertain the extent of the injuries, but the physicians were silent.

Alfred regained consciousness before the hospital was reached. The doctors said that there was a severe bruise on the back of his head, as though he had been struck by some heavy object. The lieutenant opened his eyes, as he was placed on the operating cot. He glanced around wildly for a moment, and then asked: "Where are my boys!"

"We have them here; they are all right," said a nurse.

He forced a weak smile, turned his head to one side, and was quiet.

Ralph had been shot through the body, too high up, it was believed, to touch the lungs. A second bullet had pa.s.sed through the fleshy part of the left arm, and he was very weak from loss of blood. The three were placed on adjoining cots after the first examination was over, and after all had regained their normal senses a pair of stretcher bearers entered the door, and bore a wounded man to one of the adjoining cots.

The lieutenant was the first to observe the chevrons on the sleeve of the patient, and that he was a German. Ralph tried to raise up as he noticed them carefully lift the wounded man, and deposit him on the cot.

"That's the fellow who piloted the last Taube; I'm sure of that. He's the fellow I saw through the gla.s.ses," said Ralph.

Inquiry quickly established the truth of Ralph's observation. His machine had fallen within French lines, and not far from the place where the Seraph struck. It was an odd coincidence.

The lieutenant was the most severely injured, how badly no one knew at the time, for a certain time must elapse before the full extent of the injury in such cases develops. The next morning the boys were informed that the lieutenant was much worse, and then for two days they had no news.

Meanwhile, Ralph's wounds were healing, and no excessive fever developed. Alfred's spine seemed to be affected by the terrific blow, but that would be all right again in course of time.

The sad intelligence came to them a few days thereafter that the lieutenant had died. It was, indeed, a grief to them. They had grown to love him as a friend, and they understood each other so well. It was learned that his heart was too weak to bear up against the internal injuries, which he received when the machine struck the earth.

It was two weeks before the boys were able to leave the hospital, and they were then not able to return to duty. The shock of their friend's death was so acute that, as Ralph expressed it, they never again wanted to see an airplane.

They were soon sent to Paris to recuperate, and while there they formed plans which took them into another part of the great war game, and we may be able hereafter to follow them in their new exploits.

THE END