Close beside the shed a couple of hooded airmen alighted. Lights were switched on and they began a careful examination of the machine. Five hundred feet above Dick watched the figures with interest.
Suddenly the men below stiffened and looked skyward, listening intently. Evidently they had caught the faint sound of Dick’s propellers.
A glance through his bomb sights showed Dick that he was in the position he desired. There was now no possible escape for the craft below.
Then one of the men pointed upward. Even in the darkness he had caught a glimpse of the Mohawk.
Dick’s hand shot to the bomb controls and he pulled a trigger. A petrol bomb fell squarely on the German plane and burst with a soft explosion, barely audible.
A sheet of fire followed, and in an instant the German plane was a mass of flames, fed by the petrol which streamed from its tanks. One of the Germans was caught in the outburst and apparently died almost instantly.
The second man, however, dashed into the office. The Mohawk moved forward a few feet and three more bombs fell in quick succession, right on the roof of the shed. Then, her work done, she rose high into the air and Dick and Yvette watched the results.
The shed below them was already a furnace. Apparently there must have been some petrol tanks there, for no ordinary building could have burned so furiously. In a few minutes nothing remained but a heap of glowing embers.
Dick watched keenly for the man who had run into the office, but he never reappeared, and it was evident that, trapped by the flames, he had been unable to get out in time, and had perished. Dick little suspected at the time how important the fate of that man was to prove.
Then Dick set the Mohawk at top speed for home. Just as dawn was breaking Verdun loomed ahead. Yvette was saved.