Earl was enchanted. Leon and Jacques too, although they were experienced hands at this game, once more felt the thrill of soaring swiftly through space. Jacques particularly was pleased to be in the driver's seat of an aeroplane again; his face plainly showed his keen enjoyment.
Higher and higher they mounted; below them the earth seemed miles away and the buildings and fields appeared to be of toy size. It was cold, however, bitterly cold, and all three of the boys were profoundly thankful for their warm wraps.
"You know it feels as if we were standing still," exclaimed Earl.
"I know it," agreed his brother. "The higher you go the more it seems that way too."
"Yes, sir," cried Earl, "if I didn't know better I should say that we were absolutely stationary and that it was the earth below that moved."
"Isn't the machine steady?"
"Feels as steady as a rock. You know I haven't felt the least bit nervous since we started."
"Why should you?" demanded Leon. "We're a good deal safer here than we are in the trenches."
"I suppose that's true," mused Earl. "You wouldn't think so, though, would you?"
"I don't know. The way the machines are perfected nowadays there is practically no danger from accident and with a good aviator you are as safe as any one can be in war. Of course plenty of machines are destroyed and the pilots and observers killed, but I believe the proportion is smaller than in any other branch of the service."