Oddly enough, as Mary set the big plane climbing she recalled Sparky’s words, “You are with me to the journey’s end.” Was this to be the journey’s end? One thing was sure. During their moments of excitement over the captured spy, they had allowed the enemy to come dangerously close. Six fighting planes were coming roaring toward them at top speed.

Breathless with suspense, Mary watched their altitude increase. Ten thousand feet, eleven, twelve, fifteen thousand. It was not as fast as this; instead, to her excited mind the figures appeared to creep upward like a man with a crutch going upstairs.

One plane was ahead of the others. “He’ll get us! I am sure of that!” she groaned. “Oh! If Sparky were only here!”

Then the on-rushing enemy did a strange thing. Instead of coming right on, like a catbird after a hawk, he circled wide, going completely around the big plane.

“Afraid.” There was contempt in her voice.

“He’d better be!” It was Sparky who spoke. He was standing in the center of the cabin. In his hands he gripped a heavy machine gun.

As the enemy circled closer, he opened a window a crack to send forth a burst of fire.

The plane veered off, swinging around before them, then coming up on the other side.

Sparky had donned his mask. So, too, had Mary. They were getting into thin air. “If only we can hold them off,” Mary thought.

Once again Sparky’s gun spoke, then again and yet again. Like a cowardly wolf-pack the fighters were closing in slowly. There were three of them now.

There came the rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire from the distance. No bullets found their mark.

In desperation Mary set her motors going at a dangerous rate.

“If that burned motor fails me now—” Her heart paused, then raced on.

“Good girl!” Sparky encouraged her. “We’re leaving them behind. They can’t go much farther, not at this altitude. You, you’re looking white around the lips. Here! I’ll take the controls.”

She staggered from her place, leaned for a space of seconds then, looking down, watched the fighter planes still battling their way upward. With shaking hands she reached for the machine gun. “This can’t be the journey’s end,” she 

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