At once half a score of hands reached out to render aid to the stricken airman, whose blood was staining the ground where he had fallen.

Tom, seeing that his fellow aviator was more desperately wounded than the brave man had admitted, at once summoned stretcher-bearers, and he was carried to the hospital. Then all anxiously awaited the report of the surgeons, who quickly prepared to render aid to the fighter of the air.

“How is he?” asked Jack, as he and Tom, lingering near the hospital, saw one of the doctors emerge.

“He is doing very nicely,” was the answer, given in French, for the two boys of the air spoke this language now with ease, if not always with absolute correctness.

“Then he isn't badly hurt?” asked Jack.

“No. The wound in his chest was only a flesh one, but it bled considerably. Two bullets from an aircraft machine gun struck ribs, and glanced off from them, but tore the flesh badly. The bleeding was held in check by the pressure DU Boise exerted on the wounds underneath his jacket, but at last he grew faint from loss of blood, and then the stream welled out. With rest and care he will be all right in a few days.”

“How soon could we talk with him?” asked Tom.

“Talk with him?” asked the surgeon. “Is that necessary? He is doing very well, and—”

“Tom means ask him some questions,” explained Jack. “You see, he started to tell us about our chum, Harry Leroy, who was out scouting with him. Harry was shot down, so Du Boise said, but he didn't get a chance to give any particulars, and we thought—”

“It will be a day or so before he will be able to talk to you,” the surgeon said. “He is very weak, and must not be disturbed.”

“Well, may we talk with him just as soon as possible?” eagerly asked Jack. “We want to find out where it was that Harry went down in his machine—out of control very likely—and if we get a chance—”

“We'd like to take it out on those that shot him down!” interrupted Torn. “Du Boise must have noticed the machines that fought him and Harry, and if we could get any idea of the Boches who were in them—”

“I see,” and the surgeon bowed and smiled approval of their idea. “You want revenge. I hope you get it. As soon as we think he is able to talk,” and he nodded in the direction of the hospital, “we will let you see him. Good luck to you, and confusion to the Huns!”

“Gee, but this is tough luck!” murmured Tom, as he and his chum turned away. “Just as we were getting ready to go back into the game, too! Had it all fixed up for Harry to fly with us in a sort of a triangle scheme to down the Boches, and they have to go and plump him off the map. Well, it is tough!”

“Yes, sort of takes the fun out of the good news we heard a while ago,” agreed Jack. “I mean about Pershing's boys getting over here to France. I hope Harry's only wounded, instead of killed. But if the Huns have him a prisoner—good-night!”

“There's only one consolation,” added Tom. “Their airmen are the best of the lot Of course that isn't saying much, but they behave a little more like human beings than the rest of the Boche gang; and if Harry has fallen a prisoner to them he'll get a bit of decent treatment, anyhow.”

“That's so. We'll hope for that. And now let's go on with what we started when we saw Du Boise coming back—let's see what chance we have of being transferred to an All American escadrille.”

The boys started across the field again toward the headquarters, and, nearing it, they saw, in a small motor car, a girl sitting beside the military driver. She was a pretty girl, and it needed only one glance to show that she was an American.

“Hello!” exclaimed Tom, with a low whistle. “Look who's here!”

“Do you know her?” asked Jack.

“No. Wish I did, though.”

Jack glanced quickly and curiously at his chum.

“Oh, you needn't think you're the only chap that has a drag with the girls,” went on Tom. “Just because Bessie Gleason—”

“Cut it out!” exclaimed Jack. “Look, she acts as though she wanted to speak to us.”

The military chauffeur had alighted from the machine and was talking to one of the French aviation officers. Meanwhile the girl, left to herself, was looking about the big aviation field, with a look of wonder, mixed with alarm and nervousness. She caught sight of Tom and Jack, and a smile came to her face, making her, as Tom said afterward, the prettiest picture he had seen in a long while.

“You're Americans, aren't you?” began the girl, turning frankly to them. “I know you are! And, oh, I'm in such trouble!”

Tom stepped ahead of Jack, who was taking off his cap and bowing.

“Let me have a show for my white alley,” Tom murmured to his chum. “You've got one girl.”

“You win,” murmured Jack.

“Yes, we're from the United States,” said Tom. “But it's queer to see a girl here—from America or anywhere else. How'd you get through the lines, and what can we do for you?”

“I am looking for my brother,” was the answer. “I understood he was stationed here, and I managed to get passes to come to see him, but it wasn't easy work. I met this officer in his motor car, and he brought me along the last stage of the journey. Can you tell me where my brother is? His name is Harry Leroy.”

Torn said afterward that he felt as though he had gone into a spinning nose dive with a Boche aviator on his tail, while Jack admitted that he felt somewhat as he did the time his gasoline pipe was severed by a Hun bullet when he was high in the air and several miles behind the enemy's lines.

“Your—your brother!” Tom managed to mutter.

“Yes, Harry Leroy. He's from the United States, too. Perhaps you know him, as I notice you are both aviators. He told me if I ever got to France to come to see him, and he mentioned the names of two young men—I have them here somewhere—”

She began to search in the depths of a little leather valise she carried, and, at that moment, the military chauffeur who had brought her to the aviation field turned to her, and spoke rapidly in French.

She understood the language, as did Tom and Jack, and at the first words her face went white. For the chauffeur informed her that her brother, Harry Leroy, whom she had come so far to see, was, even then, lying dead or wounded within the German lines.

“Oh!” the girl murmured, her fare becoming whiter and more white. “Oh—Harry!”

Then she would have fallen from the seat, only Tom leaped forward and caught her in his arms.

And while efforts were being made to restore the girl to consciousness, may I not take this opportunity of telling my new readers something of the previous books of this series, so that they may read this one more intelligently?

Torn Raymond and Jack Parmly, as related in the initial volume, “Air Service Boys Flying for France; or The Young Heroes of the Lafayette Escadrille,” were Virginians. Soon after the great world conflict started, they burned with a desire to fight on the side of freedom, and it was as aviators that they desired to help.

Accordingly they went to an aviation school in Virginia, under the auspices of the Government, and there learned the rudiments of flying. Tom's father had invented an aeroplane stabilizer, but, as told in the story, the plans and other papers had been stolen by a German spy.

Tom and his chum resolved to get possession of the documents, and they kept up the search after they reached France and were made members of the Lafayette Escadrille. It was in France that they met Adolph Tuessing, the German spy.

The second volume, entitled “Air Service Boys Over the Enemy's Lines; or The German Spy's Secret,” takes the two young men through further adventures. They had become acquainted on the steamer with a girl named Bessie Gleason and her mother. Carl Potzfeldt, a German sailing under false colors, claimed to be a friend of Bessie and her mother, but Jack, who was more than casually interested in the girl, was suspicious of this man. And his suspicions proved correct, for Potzfeldt had planned a daring trick.

By this time the United States had entered the great war on the side of humanity and democracy.

Then the world was startled by the news that a great German cannon was firing on Paris seventy miles away, and consternation reigned for a time. Tom and Jack had a hand in silencing the great gun, for it was they who discovered where it was hidden. Also in the third volume is related how Tom's father, who had disappeared, was found again.

The boys passed through many startling experiences with their usual bravery, so that, when the present story opens, they were taking a much needed and well-earned rest. Mr. Raymond, having accomplished his mission, had returned to the United States.

Then, as we have seen, came the news of the arrival of the first of Pershing's forces, and with it came the sad message that Harry Leroy, the chum of Torn and Jack, had fallen behind the German lines. And whether he was alive now, though wounded, or was another victim of the Hun machine guns, could not be told.

“Harry's sister couldn't have come at a worse time,” remarked Tom, as he rejoined Jack, having carried the unconscious girl to the same hospital where Du Boise lay wounded.

“I should say not!” agreed Jack. “Do you really suppose she's Harry's sister?”

“I don't see Any reason to doubt it. She said so, didn't she?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I was just wondering. Say, it's going to be tough when she wakes up and realizes what's happened.”

“You bet it is! This has been a tough day all around, and if it wasn't for the good news that our boys are in France I'd feel pretty rocky. But now we've got all the more incentive to get busy!” exclaimed Tom.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean get our machines in fighting trim. I'm going out and get a few Germans to make up for what they did to Harry.”

“You're right! I'm with you! But what about what's her name—I mean Harry's sister?”

“I didn't hear her name. Some of the Red Cross nurses are looking after her. They promised to let me know when she came to. We can offer to help her, I suppose, being, as you might say, neighbors.”

“Sure!” agreed Jack. “I'm with you. But let's go and—”

However they did not go at once, wherever it was that Jack was going to propose, for, at that moment, one of the Red Cross nurses attached to the aviation hospital came to the door and beckoned to the boys.

“Miss Leroy is conscious now,” was the message. “She wants to see you two,” and the nurse smiled at them.

Tom and Jack found Miss Leroy, looking pale, but prettier than ever, sitting up in a chair. She leaned forward eagerly as they entered, and, holding out her hands, exclaimed:

“They tell me you are my brother's chums! Oh, can you not get me some news of him? Can you not let him know that I have come so far to see him? I am anxious! Oh, where is he?” and she looked from Tom to Jack, and then to Tom again.