Now the survivors wheeled and gave chase, though they soon abandoned it, for the plane that Reade drove was a new one and faster than any of his pursuers.

For a minute or so more the two Americans survived by sheer good luck.

Then they were out of enemy range.
Higher Tom mounted in the air.

Dick fairly chattered with the cold, but he kept the machine gun ready for instant use.
A few minutes more, then Tom, shutting off the power for a glide, inquired, at the top of his voice: "Where do you want to be put down ?" "For choice," Captain Prescott answered, "as close as possible to General Bazain's divisional headquarters." "I know the place," Tom nodded.

"There's an aviation station about three miles beyond there." Tom threw on the power, straightened away, and three minutes later began to glide again until he was not more than six thousand feet from earth.
"Keep your eyes turned low," Tom counseled.