"A super-Zeppelin, or I miss my guess," observed Frank. "Look at the size of it."
"Oh, if the guns could only reach it!" exclaimed Bob.
"No such luck," groaned Billy, "it's too far up. See! the shrapnel puffs are half a mile below it."
"It's on its way back to the German lines," remarked Frank, "and I guess there's nothing to stop its getting there."
"Been on a baby killing trip to Paris, I suppose," said Tom, bitterly.
"More likely London, judging from the direction," estimated Billy.
They watched the monster as it sailed swiftly on, until it was lost to sight.
"I'd have given a year of my life to have seen that thing brought down," said Bart. "Can't you see the crew of it gloating over the women and children they've killed, and boasting about it when they get back to their lines?"
"Well, you know the Indians used to scalp women and children just as eagerly as they did men," remarked Billy, "and those Boches can give the Indians cards and spades and beat them out."
They were about to go back to the grove, with one last regretful look at the sky, when an exclamation from Frank brought them to a sudden halt.