Suddenly a flash of flame and a balloon of smoke was spouted from a small mortar amidships of that deck. Instantly a shell burst almost in Tom’s face and eyes.
If the young fellow cringed as he crouched behind the machine gun, it was no wonder. That was a very narrow escape.
He glanced back at Stillinger. The pilot had dropped one of the levers and was holding his left wrist tightly. Tom could see something red running through Stillinger’s fingers—blood!
Shrapnel was flying all about the airplane. There was a second puff of smoke and flame from the mortar on the Zeppelin. Tom heard the twang of a cut stay. The airplane rolled sideways with a sickening dip—but then righted itself.
This was a kind of fighting Tom Cameron knew nothing about. He did not know what to do. Pivoted as the machine gun was, he could not depress the muzzle sufficiently to bring the Zeppelin’s deck into range. Was the machine out of control? If the nose of it dipped a bit more he could do something.
Another burst of shrapnel, and he felt something like a red-hot iron searing his right cheek. He put up his gloved hand and brought it away spotted with crimson. The Hun certainly was getting them!
He looked back at Stillinger. To his horror he saw that the man was slumped down in his seat, held there by his belt. Tom Cameron did not know the first thing about driving an airplane!
Again a shell burst near the rocking machine. It did no harm; but it showed that the Germans were getting an almost perfect range.
Tom Cameron was not a coward. He gripped his even upper teeth on his full lower lip, and by that sign only showed that he knew disaster was coming. Indeed, it had come the next second!
The tail of the airplane shot up and the nose pitched to a sharp angle. He heard the explosion of the shell even as he started the chatter of the machine gun. In that short breath of time the muzzle of his weapon was pitched to the right angle, and a swarm of bullets swept the afterdeck of the Zeppelin.