The lieutenant leaned over and caught the elevating rudder, not a moment too soon, and corrected the machine. Ralph leaned over the side of the body, and drew Alfred toward him, as the lieutenant climbed into the aviator's seat. All this took but a moment's time, but meanwhile it was necessary for them to observe the enemy and avoid him.
"The Taube is falling," cried out Ralph, "but the Albatross is swinging around."
Before it was possible to correct the machine, and avoid the danger, the gunner of the oncoming aeroplane began to pump, and the shot began to tell on the Seraph's framework. The lieutenant now saw that it would be a terrific task to get above the Albatross, so turning the control rudder sharply, the Seraph made a quick slide below its adversary.
Alfred did not move, and Ralph tried to control himself, for in the great excitement attending the above circumstances, he was almost distracted. He was leaning partly over the body of the machine when the lieutenant saw him crouch forward. He put his hand on the boy and tried to shake him, but there was no response.
Down, down went the machine, still under absolute control of the lieutenant, who turned the machine in a circle in order to be sure to bring it down within the French lines. When within five hundred feet of the earth something seemed to go wrong with the steering mechanism. The lieutenant tugged and pulled the lever back and forth. The machine refused to move forward in a straight line, and landing while the machine is describing a circular movement is a most dangerous manoeuver.
Both boys were quiet, and the lieutenant feared for the worst. A hundred feet more and all would be over. In desperation he banked the machine to stop its terrific speed. This helped the situation, but did not prevent the spinning motion, and finally the crash came.
They landed in a newly ploughed field, the worst possible sort of place for a disabled machine. The lieutenant and Ralph were thrown out of their seats, but Alfred was held fast in the machine.
Many willing helpers were on hand, and they found all three of the flyers were unconscious when put into the van, but, fortunately, they were within a half mile of the emergency hospital south of St. Mihiel. On the way to the hospital a hurried survey was made to ascertain the extent of the injuries, but the physicians were silent.
Alfred regained consciousness before the hospital was reached. The doctors said that there was a severe bruise on the back of his head, as though he had been struck by some heavy object. The lieutenant opened his eyes, as he was placed on the operating cot. He glanced around wildly for a moment, and then asked: "Where are my boys!"
"We have them here; they are all right," said a nurse.