“There are two fifty-millimeter guns in fixed position. Having no propeller simplifies things, sir. I’ve never fought in this plane, sir, but I think we shall take them.”
“Even if we can’t shoot the beggars down,” the Commander laughed, “the wail of this plane should frighten them to death.”
After that they howled on through the night.
Twice Jack silenced his motor. Each time the rumble was louder.
“We’re on the right track,” was the Commander’s comment.
The third time, Jack said, “Very close, sir.”
“Above or beneath us?”
“Beneath, I believe, sir,” Jack answered.
“Good! We’ll run right above them. Then we’ll swing about and down, so we can get them in the light of the moon.”
Jack was following instructions and was, he thought, just about over the snooper, when a strange thing happened. A dim light shot squarely across his path.