the wings," said Tom. "That tells the story; pretty well riddled." "Are you all right?" shouted one of the men. "Yes, but that was a dandy fight, and we brought him down," replied Le Clere, a daring Frenchman, who handled the machine gun. The Gnome motor was lying on the ground twenty feet from the wreckage. One of the planes was tilted up at an angle, and was uninjured, but[Pg 50] it carried the marks of twenty holes, through which the sunlight streamed. [Pg 50] "That will give you an idea of the fascinating work we are engaged in," said Tom, pointing to the bullet marks. The body of the machine was wrecked, and the fuselage a mass of splinters. It was, indeed, a mystery how the two flyers escaped without injury. "What will they do with the machine?" asked Alfred. "They'll build up another out of it in two days," said Tom. "The Germans are marching west and south of Roubaix," said Le Clere. "They have already reached Mons, and are going straight toward Paris." The boys looked at each other in amazement. It seemed as though their trip to Paris would be interrupted, after all. Tom seemed to read their thoughts. "How far is it to Mons?" asked Alfred. "About fifty miles south," said Tom. "And what is the name of the town which we saw before we came down?" asked Ralph. "Lille," was the response. "But we must be going back," continued Tom. "We are going to move south in the morning, and I have a few things to pack up." After bidding good-bye to every one, they climbed into the airplane, and those present gave the boys a cheer, as the machine glided forward. Tom had promised to give them an hour's flight,[Pg 51] and it was now four o'clock. They had heard about taking observations, while on the grounds at Lille, and they busied themselves in trying to do work of that character. How small the houses were! They could see little creeping things, that soon evolved themselves into horses and wagons, but they seemed unreal. [Pg 51] The flight to Lille covered a distance of forty-five miles, and it took them an hour. It