“Ever since we caught sight of the black plane. We had a description of it at Omaha and were warned by radio to be on the lookout.”
“But you didn’t say a word to me.”
“There was no need to alarm you.”
The army planes were closing in on their quarry, darting in and out as the pilots directed blasts of fire at the bandit craft. The aerial desperadoes knew that they could hope for no quarter and they made one final attempt to escape, heading their plane in a mad dive toward one of the army ships.
But the dive laid them open to the fire of the second army flyer, and he plunged down from above, his machine gun spitting flame. Bullets traced through the wing of the black biplane, shattering the propeller. Then the left wing of the biplane tore loose and the ship fluttered aimlessly for a moment before nosing down for the final plunge.
Mrs. Van Verity Vanness cried out in horror and Jane placed her hands over the older woman’s eyes. Finally the passenger turned from the window and looked at Jane.
“You’re a brave, sweet girl,” she said. “Now I think I’ll rest again.”
Neither one mentioned the aerial duel they had witnessed as the special roared on to the pace of its quickened motors.
Jane prepared breakfast and while her passenger sipped the hot chocolate, the stewardess went up to the pilots’ cockpit.
“Some dog fight,” said Charlie Fischer. “Those army boys showed up just in time.”