"You can rely on them, Philip," said John as the _Arrow_ bore away a
little, "but I don't like the looks of one of those German machines."
"What's odd about it?"
"It's bigger than the others. Ah, now I see! It carries a machine gun."
"That's bad. It can send a hail of metal at us. It's lucky that
aeroplanes are such unstable gun-platforms. When platforms and targets
are alike swerving it's hard to hit anything. We're going to rise and
dive, and rise and dive and swerve and swerve, John, so be ready. I'll
signal to Caumartin to do the same, and maybe the machine gun won't get
us."
John was quite sure that the _Arrow_ could escape by immediate flight,
but he knew that Lannes would never desert the _Omnibus_, and its
passengers, and he felt the same way. The subject was not even mentioned
by either.
The German machines, approaching rapidly, spread out like a fan, the
heavier one with the machine gun in the center. John could see the man
at the rapid firer, but he did not yet open with it. The _Arrow_ and the
_Omnibus_ were wavering like feathers in a storm and closer range was
needed. John sat with his own rifle across his knee and then looked at
Wharton in the _Omnibus_ scarcely a hundred yards away. The figure of
Wharton was tense and rigid. His rifle was raised and his eyes never
left the man at the machine gun.
"I forgot to tell you, Philip," said John, "that Wharton is a great
sharpshooter. It's natural to him, and I don't believe the shifting
platform will interfere with his aim.
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