Their work in this quarter having been thoroughly accomplished the raiders now climbed higher, to rejoin the battleplane squadron hovering above, waiting to act once more as their armed escort.
Looking down in farewell, Jack could see fires burning. The shattered timbers of the wrecked chateau had been set ablaze. He would always remember that strange event whenever again watching fires from a lofty height in the night-time.
The squadron was off again, the second thrilling event connected with the bombing raid having come off as scheduled without any mishap to the Yankee air fleet.
Jack had kept quiet up to now, but it had cost him a severe effort. Talking when a plane is bombing on its way can never be anything of a pleasure unless it is equipped with an up-to-date wireless telephone for the use of pilot and observer.
Jack himself had contrived some amateur device of this sort which he rigged up as soon as he seated himself back of Tom, although up to then he had failed to make use of it.
The roar of many propellers and the steady hum of a score of engines combined to make a deafening noise. Nevertheless, when Tom felt a tug at his sleeve, such as had been agreed upon with his chum, he took hold of his little receiver and was delighted to hear Jack's voice as plainly as though there had been no interference.
Plainly then Jack's idea was bearing fruit, and properly cultivated there might be something worth while in the scheme.
"Tom, do you get me?" demanded the agitated inventor, the first thing.
"Yes, and plainly, too," came the reply that greatly pleased Jack; for up to then they had found no occasion to test the wireless telephone under severe conditions.
If it "made good" with all that noise about them, Jack felt that he ought to call it a success.