"Here's the end of the marshy tract," Tom said, after they had been floundering around for some little time.

"How fine it feels to be on solid ground again," Jack observed, stamping his feet as though he really enjoyed the sensation.

Indeed, after being for such a long time, weary hours after hours, confined in the big bombing plane, the relief was greatly appreciated by both Tom Raymond and Lieutenant Beverly, as well as by Jack Parmly.

"Now for the home town!" the last mentioned told his companions. "And as near as I can figure it out there's not a ghost of a chance that Cousin Randolph could have arrived before me."

"For that matter I'm sure the French steamer must be still far out at sea, with a day or two's journey ahead of her," Colin assured him.

"Then it's my game, provided we don't run across some U. S. army authorities who'd want to know our names and hold us for investigation, which would knock everything flat."

"We're going to try to avoid all that bother," Beverly assured him. "It isn't going to make us feel very proud of our achievement, since we have to hide our light under a bushel; but for one I don't regret it. No matter if we have to be punished for desertion, our motive was honorable; and they never will be able to deny us the credit of having made the longest flight on record in a heavier-than-air machine."

"All the same," urged Tom, "I'd rather keep quiet about that stunt, for the present at least. I want to go back and finish the work over there. If the Huns are going to be driven to the Rhine we ought to be doing our duty by Uncle Sam; which we couldn't if shut up in the Government penitentiary at Fort Leavenworth, awaiting trial as deserters."

"Here's a plain trail that may lead us out of this region of scrub oaks, and to some farmer's place!" the lieutenant exclaimed just then; and in their eagerness to get in touch with some one who would take them to the railroad they talked no further concerning the great flight and its possible serious consequences to them.

Half an hour afterwards they came to the home of a farmer, who was trying to make a living out of his isolated holdings, eking it out, as he informed them while his wife was getting up the best meal possible, by doing some terrapin hunting, and even trapping muskrats and such fur-bearing animals during the otherwise unprofitable winter months.

It was very comfortable to sit down once more to a table after being so long taking "snacks" at odd hours, and being cramped in the bombing plane. And as the farmer's wife had plenty of fresh eggs, which they told her not to stint, the generous omelet she produced was fully appreciated, flanked as it was by rashers of pretty fair bacon.

There were also some freshly made soda biscuits which had a true old-fashioned Southern taste, appreciated by Tom and Jack. Lieutenant Beverly did not show any great liking for them; but he was a Northerner, brought up on baking-powder biscuits, so the others could understand his want of appreciation.

Taken all in all, they certainly enjoyed that first bite ashore after the completion of their memorable flight across the Atlantic.

Jack, so Tom said, seemed to think it was a sort of celebration because of the event, for his face was wreathed in a perpetual smile.

"The sort of smile," Jack retorted, "that won't come off."

"Oh, how good I do feel!" was a remark that if he made it once he did a dozen times, always finding it greeted by answering nods on the part of his two companions.

Of course they told the farmer they were aviators who had had the misfortune to drop into the marsh, where he would find their plane.

Beverly hired him to dismantle this in part, and store it away in his shed until later on it could be called for in person. He was not to deliver it to any person without the presence of one of the trio.

When he started out to drive them in his old rickety vehicle to the nearest railroad station, miles distant, he was almost stricken dumb because Beverly, in the fulness of his gratitude over their marvelous escape, thrust a full hundred dollars upon him, with a promise of a like amount later on for looking after the abandoned bombing plane.

"To-day is marked with a white stone in the life of Farmer Jenkins, believe me," Jack whispered aside to Tom, as they saw the amazed look spreading over the man's weather-beaten face.

"It's that with all of us," said Tom soberly.

Jack fell silent after that. He was engrossed with thoughts connected with his unexpected return to the home of his childhood; and in imagination could see the excitement their unheralded appearance was certain to arouse.

It had been arranged between them that their presence must be kept as much a secret as possible. On this account they would delay their arrival at the home of Jack's mother until after darkness had set in.

"To-morrow," Jack had said, when these things were being discussed, "we'll telegraph to Mr. Smedley in Richmond to come on without delay in connection with my dead uncle's estate, ready to settle it according to the provisions of his queer will. Then we'll be ready for Randolph when he bobs up."

Beverly had also made a suggestion when they were thus talking it all over, and arranging plans after their usual way.

"Now I've got a good friend who lives on Staten Island, right in New York harbor," he informed them. "Often while at his house visiting I've amused myself with a glass watching steamers pass through the Narrows lying between the shore of the island and that part of Brooklyn opposite Fort Wadsworth. I'll wire him to let me know by the same means when La Bretagne reaches Quarantine in the harbor."

"A clever idea, Colin!" Tom cried. "In that way we can figure out just when Jack's cousin might expect to arrive in Bridgeton to claim the estate as being the first one on the ground, thanks to that silly provision of the old man's will."

"Given two hours to get off the vessel, after the time she reaches Quarantine," Jack figured, "and six more to get to Richmond makes eight in all. Then he might be two hours getting out to Bridgeton, for trains are not very plentiful. He could make it in that time if he took a roadster with a chauffeur and came that way. Ten hours in all."

"We'll be lying in wait for Randolph, all right!" laughed Beverly. "And what a surprise it'll be! The man must think he's dreaming, having left you over in France, Jack, on the fighting front when he sailed, with not one chance in a thousand that you could catch even the next boat, days later, and then finding you here ahead of him!"

The prospect pleased them all so much that they made light of the merciless jostling received in that springless wagon over wretched Virginia shore roads. In fact, they were so elated over the great success that had rewarded their daring venture that it seemed just then as if nothing could ever again make them feel blue, or depressed in spirits.

In due time the lonely little station was reached. It was then two in the afternoon of that eventful day. Just as Tom anticipated, it turned out that there would not be a train in the direction they wished to go for two hours and more. This train would drop them at another station where a connection was made with the road that ran through Bridgeton.

It was lucky they found themselves in no hurry, thanks, as Jack naively remarked, to their having come across "on the air-line limited."

The time dragged to Jack, naturally, but he felt he had no reason for complaint after such wonderful good fortune. At last their train came along. What if it was ten minutes late? That would only shorten their wait at the junction.

"So long as we reach the old town by nine tonight I'll be satisfied," Jack had bravely committed himself by saying; and indeed it was just about then they did jump from the steps of the car at Bridgeton, for the second train had been two hours late.

Nevertheless all of them were united in thinking they had made a swift trip from the American sector of the fighting front in France to the town of Bridgeton in the Old Dominion in just four complete days.

Jack led the way, though, of course, Tom would have been just as competent a guide, since this was also his home town.

How those blinking lights in the well-remembered windows of the Parmly home held Jack's eyes, once he sighted them! Never before in all his life had he felt such a delicious thrill creep over him from head to toe.

Knocking on the door he and his chums carried out their pre-arranged plan. Jack and Tom were to keep back out of sight, leaving Lieutenant Beverly to break the glorious news first and prepare the family, so there might not be so loud an outcry as to arouse the neighbors and breed the excitement in the community that neither of the returned fighters wished.

Jack's aunt, who, a widow herself, made her home with her widowed sister-in-law, came to the door, for some reason or other. Perhaps the negro servants still went home at night, as had been the case before Jack went to the war. She looked surprised and anxious as soon as she saw that the caller was a stranger, and evidently an aviator from his dress.

"This is Mrs. Parmly, I believe?" the visitor hastened to say.

"Mrs. Job Parmly. Mrs. Parmly's sister-in-law."

"I see. Mrs. Parmly, my name is Beverly, Lieutenant Beverly of the United
States Aerial Corps, just over from France. I am a good friend of your
nephew, Jack, who has entrusted a message to me to deliver to his mother.
May I come in for a short time, Mrs. Parmly?"

He was immediately warmly greeted and drawn into the sitting-room where he met Jack's mother. The two outside could peep under the drawn shade and watch all that went on, Jack quivering with emotion as he looked on the beloved faces of his own people once again.

Beverly knew how eager the boy must be, and hence he lost little time in getting down to the main fact, which was that he wished them not to do anything to arouse curiosity in the neighborhood; but that Jack was near by, and all would be soon explained; also that they must not be troubled thinking he, Jack, had done anything really wrong.

When he had drawn down the shades fully, that being the signal to those outside, Jack could restrain himself no longer. Opening the front door he rushed into the house and quickly had his mother and then his aunt in his arms.

The story was told at length, with the family clustered around Jack and Tom, hanging on every word as though it were the most thrilling thing they had ever heard, which in truth it must be.

Then Tom had to be considered. Lieutenant Beverly volunteered to go over to the Raymond house, which could easily be pointed out to him, and bring back the startled family, so they could greet their boy, whom they, of course, supposed to be at that very moment still overseas, risking his life in his perilous calling.

It seemed to Tom that the delight of once more greeting these loved ones well repaid him for all he had passed through in making that wonderful flight. The story had to be all gone over again, and scores of questions answered.

By degrees the scope of Jack's plan was grasped by his family, who of course knew about the strange conditions of Joshua Kinkaid's will, whereby the bulk of his large estate, long before promised to the Parmlys, would go without restrictions to either Randolph Carringford or Jack Parmly, according to which of them, after the death of the testator, appeared before a notary public specified in Bridgeton, and qualified to assume the trust.

So, too, the plan of campaign designed to confound the arch-schemer who had even plotted to keep Jack from ever applying in person, was agreed to.

The presence of the three was to be kept a dead secret. They would not go out of the house by daylight, even for a breath of air. In the morning the old family lawyer, who had also served Mr. Kinkaid in a similar capacity, would be sent for to come hurriedly.

Once he arrived, the stage would be set for carrying out the provisions of the queer will, which Tom considered might hardly have stood the test of a contest in court, though later on the lawyer, Mr. Smedley, who had himself carefully drawn it up, assured him it was really an iron-bound document.

"But," Jack said, as they waited for the lawyer's coming on the noon train from Richmond, "we can spare a couple of days here, and still make the steamer we hope to sail on for the other side. And it would be too bad if we missed seeing how dear Cousin Randolph takes his Waterloo."

Mr. Smedley arrived, and was astounded to see Jack. He showed that his sympathies were on the side of the Parmly family by his delight when shaking hands again and again.

Then the thrilling story was once more told, after he had been bound to secrecy. It would be hard to describe the emotions of the old lawyer as he sat and listened to what a great feat Jack and his two comrades had carried through.

After that all arrangements were made, and the lawyer decided to stay to see the thing through. It was the most astonishing event in all his life, he assured the company, and not for a fortune would he miss the scene that must accompany the coming of Randolph Carringford.

Mr. Smedley also sent a long telegram to that friend of Colin Beverly's who lived on Staten Island. Later that same day a reply was received promising to carry out faithfully the instructions given, if he had to sit up all night keeping watch on all vessels arriving, though if port rules were rigorously carried out no steamer would be allowed to enter or leave except by daylight.

"But we know that isn't the case," Tom said, "because those troop ships have left New York under cover of darkness many a time. Still, the ships may have waited down the bay until morning, and then sailed."

That day passed, and the following night. Early on the morning of the third day after Jack's arrival home came a telegram to Mr. Smedley.

"Now for news!" cried Jack, as it was opened.

The message was brief and to the point, affording them all the intelligence they required.

"La Bretagne at Quarantine eleven to-night; expected to dock in two hours!"