CHAPTER XXIII
THE TREATY UNDER THE FLAG
“My dear sir!” exclaimed Gilroy as Ned, hatless, coatless, ragged, and well covered with blood, advanced into the firelight.
“Now, what do you think of that!” exclaimed Harry.
Ned dropped down on the ground and turned a tired face to the others.
“What do you think of a battle in the air?” he asked.
“Not up in the air, really?” asked Gilroy.
“We had battles in the air when we were running our aeroplanes,” commented Harry, “and we rather liked them!”
“This little encounter,” Ned explained, “was with a great American eagle, or eagles, rather. The eagle is a scrapper!”
As he spoke he pointed to the body of the dead bird laying just outside the illuminated circle. Gilroy hastened in that direction, but paused when a flutter of wind caused the feathers of the bird to move threateningly.
“Is it alive?” he asked.