"Same as you were—disposing of some Boches," answered Jimmy. "Are you hurt?"
"Not a scratch, though our plane was hit a lot," said Jack. "But we ran out of gas, and had to come down here. Glad we did, too, or we'd have missed seeing you. Cousin Emile is in the same boat as ourselves. Here he comes! He'll be glad to see you."
And from the smaller plane there emerged an aviator whose very stride across the field told what he was—a brave, intrepid man. Such was Emile Voissard, cousin of the Twinkle Twins, and right well had he earned the title, "Flying Terror of France."
"Ah, my American friends!" exclaimed Voissard, as he came over, acknowledging the greetings he received. "I am glad to see you again. It is good—très bien!" and he smiled.
"Well, say, it was good to see you and the other Frenchmen go at those Huns!" exclaimed Bob. "If we had known the Twinkle Twins were up there among the Americans we'd have been worse scared than we were, when we saw the Germans getting the best of it."
"Ah, it is nothing. Voila! What would you have?" and Voissard shrugged his shoulders. "They are but beasts and they fight as the beasts—they run, too, as the beasts! n'est ce pas?"
"Well, two of 'em tried to run, but we landed 'em!" exclaimed Roger, with a laugh. "We just took 'em to the rear. Their petrol tank was shot full of holes."
"Was it a machine with a sort of double iron cross on it?" asked Jack.
"That was it," said Roger.
"That's the one we couldn't seem to get," went on Jack. "She was a bit too speedy for us. But it seems we got her after all."