Just as Rob had anticipated, there was a series of explosions, and they could even hear the patter of bullets striking the piled-up stones composing the wall.
This was enough to tell them that the fleeing aviator had headed straight toward the spot where they were crouching. And, as the rattle of his machine grew louder, they realized that he was approaching them with considerable speed.
Then, with an additional clatter, the Taube passed over the wall, clearing its top by not more than ten feet.
"Keep down!" exclaimed Rob, feeling Merritt beginning to make a move, and afraid lest he should stand upright in order to better follow the progress of the aëroplane.
It was well he spoke when he did, for another burst of firing came. The soldiers were sending random volleys after the fleeing airman, in hopes of injuring his machinery or wounding the aviator himself.
"That was sure a great getaway!" bubbled Tubby, still seated there on the ground.
"But I rather think they winged him," added Merritt, possibly with a note of regret in his voice.
It was not that he felt any particular sympathy for the German cause; but, boy-like, he could admire grit and daring, no matter under what flag it might be found. That bold flight of the Taube operator in the face of the flying missiles was quite enough to arouse the spirit of any one with red blood in his veins.
"What makes you say that?" asked Tubby, not meaning to remain in ignorance when he possessed a ready tongue.
"I was pretty sure the machine wabbled as it passed over," said Merritt.