"Any luck?" asked Tom, of one he knew; a Frenchman noted for his skill and daring.
"The best, mon ami," he replied with a smile—a weary smile. "We gave Fritz a dose of bitter medicine last night."
"And he gave us a little in return," sadly added his companion. "Quarre and Blas—" he shrugged his shoulders, and Tom and Jack knew what it meant.
They were the men in the missing machine, the Caudron that had not come back.
"Did you see what happened?" asked Jack.
Picard, to whom Tom had first spoken, answered briefly.
"They caught them full in the glare of a searchlight and let them have it. We saw them fall. There didn't seem to be any hope."
"But the battery that did the firing—it is no more," added De Porry, the companion of Picard. "The bombs that Quarre and Blas carried went down like lead, right on top of the Hun guns. They are no more, those guns and those who served."
"It was a retributive vengeance," murmured Picard.
Then they passed on, and others, landing, also went to make their reports.
Some of them had reached their objectives, and had dropped the bombs on the German
