"Aerolite!" he said confidently.
"Pass on, shipmate, you're all right," declared the sentry, and Ned, breathing freely once more, continued on his way.
It was a daring enterprise, this that he had undertaken of penetrating into the "enemy's" camp and discovering just the strength of their aero fleet, and the exact method of attack that they meant to pursue.
But Ned felt that it was up to him to "make good." His absence from his ship, he felt might be open to evil construction by his enemies. If he returned with the information, he hoped at least they could not say that whatever had been his ill luck, he had neglected his duty.
With this thought in mind, Ned kept on along the trail which wound in eccentric fashion through brush and tall grass.
"I ought surely to be nearing the camp now," he thought at length as the trail, after doubling and twisting upon itself like a chased rabbit, brought him out at a point overlooking a little bay.
And there below him he saw that for which he was searching. Screened by trees, the tents lay in orderly rows,—big, high-walled canvas structures, housing, so Ned guessed, the aero fleet of the Blue squadron.
Some little distance out from the shore were the lights of vessels. After some straining of his eyes, Ned made the craft out to be a flotilla of destroyers. They lay there waiting for the dawn, it appeared, hidden from the prying eyes of the scribes of the metropolitan papers who would have given their eyes, almost, to know the facts which Ned was now learning.
He counted the tents. There were twenty of them, each housing a flying boat or a naval aeroplane. Truly a formidable fleet, and one which, swooping down upon the Reds unexpectedly, might "technically" blow up the whole squadron before action could be taken. But now Ned possessed knowledge which would be of incalculable value to his officers. He could not have felt more exultant had it been in actual war time.
Standing there, carefully concealed, he made voluminous mental notes. It was then, and not till then, that he suddenly realized what in the haste of his flight he had forgotten: He was penniless and in the "enemy's" country without means of rejoining his ship. His delight turned to ashes. Of what use was all the information he had acquired if he could not communicate it to the fleet.