Page 21 of The Phantom Airman


  *CHAPTER XXI*

  *THE COMING FIGHT*

  "Good-morning, Colonel!" cried the two airmen, saluting their chiefsmartly, as he still sat in the aeroplane, looking not a little crabbedand sour, as he secretly swore at the infamous stretch of groundmisnamed an aerodrome; then turned his gaze upon the two airmen who hadappealed for assistance.

  "Morning! So this is where you young cubs spend your holidays, whilethe whole world is ramping at me for not catching this infernal brigand.What have you got to say for yourselves?"

  Keane was not at all put out by this dour greeting; he knew his chieftoo well, and admired him accordingly. Merit is not always accompaniedby a bland and urbane countenance, neither do brains always accompany awhite shirt front.

  "I have that to say which will almost make you jump out of your skin,sir," replied Keane, "but we must somehow get these aeroplanes undercover, or properly camouflaged, for the _Scorpion_ may arrive anyminute."

  "Eh? What's that you say, boy?" exclaimed Tempest, leaping from thefuselage. "The _Scorpion_?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Why, that is the name of your infernal raider, isn't it, CaptainWatson?" and here the colonel turned and addressed his passenger, whowas none other than the skipper of the air-liner which had been soroughly handled in the Hamadian Desert.

  "The same, sir."

  "And the professor, Keane? I sent you to track the professor. Have youfound him?"

  "He is our prisoner, Colonel," and Keane bowed stiffly, and pointed tothe half-hidden hangar, where the two prisoners, who were now partlyroused, had been safely secured.

  An exclamation of pleasure and surprise broke from this dour-looking manwhen he heard this news, and his face became wreathed with smiles as headvanced to both Keane and Sharpe, shook them warmly by the hand, andsaid:--

  "Thank you, my boys; I knew if it could be done you would do it, thoughI could ill spare you for the job. Yesterday my reputation was inshreds; I am to be charged with inefficiency, and a public enquiry is tobe held. But you two wolf cubs have re-established my character; I cannever thank you enough. Now lead on, show us this evil-minded genius!Professor Verne here, who has come in the second Bristol, with CaptainHooper, is anxious to see him. He may redeem him yet from the error ofhis ways, and it is vital that this secret of his should be in other andbetter hands, else it will always be a danger to the public."

  So, whilst the party were conducted indoors, and shown the marvels ofthe modern house of alchemy, the two professors were introduced, andbegan a series of disputations, very embittered at first, as the German,though relieved of his bonds, and made as comfortable as thecircumstances would permit, resolutely refused to give any particularsof his discovery, or even to display the slightest amiability towardshis distinguished visitor, though they were not unknown to each other,and had even studied at Heidelberg together in their younger days.

  Meanwhile, all possible steps were taken to prepare for the possiblearrival of the _Scorpion_. The Bristol machines, after being carefullystowed away in a gap between the trees, were so camouflaged by branchesof pine and larch that they presented but a very indistinct object fromthe air, and, unless their presence were known, might easily remainunobserved.

  After some time had been spent in examining the highly developed andintricate mechanism of the devil's workshop, as the place was nowcalled, the Commissioner suddenly turned upon his chief mentor, andsaid:--

  "By the way, Keane, have you discovered any drawings or designs of thiswonderful aeroplane? I don't see any amongst this pile of papers, andthe professor does not seem inclined to help us at all."

  "No, sir. We have searched the place carefully, but we have foundnothing. Part of the machine could certainly be reconstructed fromthose spares, but all the important parts are missing. I have anoverwhelming curiosity to see the machine, though, and hope that I maynot have this pleasure much longer delayed."

  "Then we have nothing but these photographs," returned the captain.

  "Photographs?" echoed Keane.

  "Yes. Why, I forgot to tell you in the bewilderment and excitement ofthe last hour, that Captain Watson here managed to secure threesnapshots of the raider in mid-air, whilst his airship was beingattacked."

  "It was the boy Gadget who secured them, sir," interposed theair-skipper, anxious to give credit where credit was due.

  "Oh, yes, Keane, I ought to say that it was a smart little beggar calledGadget, a stowaway, who really secured the photographs, and hid themaway from the brigand. We must see that the little chap is properlyrewarded when we return."

  "Let me see the pictures, sir," requested Keane, eager to get some ideaof his future opponent.

  "Here they are. I have had them developed and enlarged. They should beextremely useful to us, as we shall shortly have to encounter thisSultan Selim, Air King of the Hamadian Desert, the world's greatestbandit, who had the audacity to send me this document by the captain."

  And here the colonel, having retailed the whole story of the fight inthe desert, showed the brigand's letter, which had been brought toLondon the previous day by the fast aeroplane which had carried theskipper of the air-liner.

  Keane turned in amazement from the clear photographs of the phantom-birdto the brief, audacious letter of the phantom airman, and read asfollows:--

  "To Colonel Tempest, D.S.O., M.C.,

  Commissioner of Aerial Police, Scotland Yard, London, W.C.

  "Greetings from Sultan Selim, Air King of the Hamadian Desert. I regretto inform you that of late there has been a serious increase of aerialcrime in these regions. The frequent passing of large airshipscontaining mails and other commodities, without due payment of tributeto my customs officials, is a serious infringement of the laws of mydominion. This action not only imperils the liberties of smallcommunities, but is also a crafty form of aerial brigandage, inasmuch asit defrauds my exchequer of its just and equitable revenue. Thispractice must cease forthwith, and I have taken steps to-day which, inmy opinion, will render it unwise for this shameful trespass tocontinue. The bearer of this letter will give you further details ofthe action which I have been compelled to take on behalf of my subjects.Your five missing scouts will be found between the wells of Nefud andthe Hedjaz coast. I have destroyed their machines as a salutary warningto future violaters of these my dominions."

  Keane could scarcely restrain a smile when he laid down this wily,half-humorous, half-threatening epistolary from the aerial pirate.

  "What do you think of it?" asked the colonel.

  "It's a topping letter, sir, but I think he's trying hard to be funny,this von Spitzer, as you call him. A German with a sense of humour,sir, that's the best way to regard him," replied the airman.

  "Humour indeed!" rasped out the colonel, becoming ruffled. "It'sconfounded impudence, and worse, when you remember that, apart from thedamage to the airship, which is considerable, there is a net loss ofspecie and other valuables--to wit, the Maharajah's jewels--which isestimated at a quarter of a million sterling. I only hope and pray thatwe may encounter and waylay this bandit before he does any more damage.The deuce only knows what he'll do next, or where he'll go."

  "Ireland is to be the scene of his next adventure, sir," remarked Keane.

  "Ireland?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I heard the professor say so. They are to work hand in hand with therevolutionists there, and stir up strife which will make that unhappyland a still greater thorn in the side of Great Britain."

  "Just what I feared!" exclaimed the now irate commissioner. "Thatexplains partly those mysterious messages and rumours floating aboutDingle Bay, and unfortunately I have had to withdraw nearly all theaerial police from that quarter to send them out east."

  "You might as well recall them, sir."

  "Why?"

  "The raider has left the Hamadian Desert by this time, and is in hidingsomewhere, but will call here o
n his way to Ireland."

  "H'm! We're being thoroughly fooled, and if you hadn't found thisdemon's nest I should have gone mad. At any rate I should have beencompelled to resign my post."

  "Still, public opinion had to be satisfied, and you sent the patrolswhere the public demanded that they should be sent. Besides, if yourecall them now, this raider will probably pick up your messages andchange his tactics. I can tell you this, Colonel, that while he can gethis necessary supplies of uranis, and a few extra spares from theworkshop here, this von Spitzer intends to carry out his mad policy ofdestroying the civilized world by piecemeal. It is all part of a greatplan to save Germany from the evil consequences of the Peace terms.But, whilst we hold this citadel, and retain these two men captive, hisactivities are limited to his present supply of this secretelement--uranis."

  The colonel swore under his breath, and went to examine the prisoners,to make sure that there was no chance of their escaping, for he felt thetruth of Keane's words. He now felt grateful that the airman had notresponded to the message for his recall, although it had amounted to aserious breach of discipline.

  "Ah, well," he said at length, "it only remains to capture this raider,and the whole system of their clever and daring attempt to convulse theAllies, break up their international system of mail transit, stop theintercourse of civilized nations, and cause a world revolution--allthese things will fail."

  So their efforts were redoubled to make preparations to capture thewonder 'plane, should it descend on the aerodrome. A couple of machineguns were found, and mounted, under the charge of Sharpe and CaptainHooper, though the skipper of the airliner pointed out that the_Scorpion_ carried bullet-proof armour.

  "You will need to hit her in a vital spot," he said, "so that your firstburst may be your last, or she will be up again like a helicopter."

  "Then we must have the two Bristols ready," urged the colonel, "thoughit's a deuce of a hole to get out of with this new type of a BristolFighter."

  "And the petrol, sir?" asked Keane, who, was rather anxious on thispoint, for he hoped that the _Scorpion_ would become his victim in thecoming air fight.

  "There may be sufficient for another two hours, certainly not more."

  "That means unless the _Scorpion_ chooses to stay and fight, she'llsimply leave us."

  "Von Spitzer will fight unless I stop him!" called out the professorfrom behind the curtains, where he was confined under the charge of hiscolleague of other days, for he had been listening to the conversation.

  "So much the better!" replied Keane, tartly.

  "And when the fight is over there won't be many of you left alive totell the story," came the rejoinder.

  *CHAPTER XXII*

  *AN AERIAL DUEL*

  "Message from the _Scorpion_, sir!" cried Keane, a little before midday,from the little key-board where he had been patiently waiting for thelast hour.

  "Good! What does the brigand say?" asked Tempest.

  "Expects to be here within an hour."

  "Then we haven't a moment to lose," replied the colonel. "At the sametime, I am glad we have had this message, for to be forewarned is to before-armed."

  Then, turning to Keane, whom he knew to be his best and most brilliantpilot, he said, "Where would you like to be stationed, boy?"

  A sudden gleam came into the youth's eyes, for he saw that his chancehad come.

  "Let me have all the spare petrol from the other machine, and let me getup above the clouds in that new No. 7 Bristol Fighter which you broughtover, sir."

  "I'm afraid it means certain death for you, my lad," replied the chief,after a pause, unwilling to permit the youth to take such unknown risks,and yet still more unwilling to deny him his request. "This _Scorpion_,according to Captain Watson, must be some stunting machine."

  "I am willing to take the risks, sir," replied Keane. "It is not myfirst fight with a Hun."

  "Don't I know it, boy!" replied the other, gazing with fond admirationinto the frank and pleasing face of the pilot. "The ribbons which yougained speak for themselves, but they don't tell half the story. Don'tI remember the morning when you went over the line by yourself, andencountered seven enemy machines, how you fought with them for an hourand brought five of them down, chased the others till your machinethreatened to break up, then turned and staggered home with your wingsshot to ribbons?" and the colonel fondly patted the youth's shoulder.

  "Then let me go, sir. The brigand will be not a little confounded tofind himself attacked both from the ground and the air at the sametime."

  "You shall go!" said the colonel after another pause. "Will you take agunner with you?"

  "No, sir. I would rather go alone."

  And while the petrol was drawn off from the other machine, No. 7 wasbrought out, filled up, and tested, ready to start at a moment's notice.The Vickers gun, fixed forward to fire through the propeller, wascarefully examined, and several drums of the new armour-piercing bulletsplaced in position. Another moment was given to the alignment of thegun-sight, a matter of supreme importance in an aerial duel like thisone promised to be, for the slightest error in this respect would belike courting disaster.

  Ten minutes later the signal was given to stand clear, the colonelhimself swung the propeller, and, instantly, the powerful 350 H.P.Rolls-Royce burst into life with a crackle and a roar, and, when thechocks were withdrawn, the Bristol dashed across the ground, leapt intothe air at sixty yards, and by a steep climb just cleared the tops ofthe trees on the edge of the forest.

  "What are his chances, Colonel?" asked Captain Hooper.

  The chief shook his head as though doubtful of the result, then, afterwatching the machine for a moment, as it climbed in rapid spirals upinto the clouds which half covered the sky at four thousand feet, hesaid:--

  "There is no pilot aboard the _Scorpion_, or any other machine for thatmatter, who can hold a candle to Keane, but--it is the amazing speed andclimbing powers of the other machine that I fear. Still, it will besome fight, and if we fail to trap the brigand down here, well, it isjust possible, despite his disadvantages, that Keane may bring therascal down. He'll have to keep well out of sight, though, and run atless than half-throttle behind that cloud bank till the moment comes tostrike. And now to stations, all of you, and keep well out of sight.Professor Verne, I am afraid you will have to take charge of the twoprisoners. Don't let them get away for heaven's sake. You must shootthem first."

  "I'll take care of them, Colonel," replied the eminent man, "though itis a somewhat unusual occupation for me."

  "Needs must when the devil drives, Professor! I told you it would besome desperate adventure. Have you had any luck with that evil genius,yet?"

  "Not the slightest, so far. He is prejudiced against the English mind,and is secretly rejoicing over the expected arrival of the _Scorpion_."

  "Tell him from me, Professor, that if he attempts to escape, I shallshoot both him and his accomplice without the slightest compunction,"said the colonel, as he turned away to re-examine all his defensiveposts, and to alter the position of one of the machine guns, which hadbeen entrusted to Captain Sharpe.

  Fifteen minutes passed away, and the Bristol, hidden away behind thecloud bank, kept its engine well-throttled down, lest the roar of thepowerful motor should reveal its presence, when, suddenly, from one ofthe watchers, the cry arose:--

  "Aeroplane approaching from the south-east."

  "Is it the _Scorpion_, Captain Watson?" the colonel asked, as soon asthe machine had been located.

  "Yes, it is the same brigand, sir."

  Then, with amazement bordering on the supernatural, the little garrisonsaw the _Scorpion_ moving across the sky at a miraculous speed, andmaking directly for the secret aerodrome. Once or twice it circledaround at three thousand feet, then dived a clean two thousand fivehundred upon its objective, silently, like a mysterious phantom bird.At five hundred feet it flattened out, rode gaily above the tree tops,th
en swooping like a falcon, once more touched the ground lightly, andcame to rest within thirty yards of the secret hangar.

  "Haende in die hohe!" cried Colonel Tempest, stepping out into the open,and confronting the visitors with a couple of revolvers, as theyprepared to leap from the armoured conning-tower.

  "Ach Himmel! We are betrayed!" cried Spitzer. "The _verdammt_ Englishhave captured the aerodrome."

  Without thought of surrender the brigands tumbled swiftly back into thearmoured cell, just as a shower of bullets from both revolvers swept theupper surface of the cockpit.

  "Fire!" shouted Tempest, stepping back, as the daring bandits,regardless of the danger, started the propellers once more by means ofthe self-starting knob, within the conning-tower.

  And the next instant, even as the machine turned and raced for safety, aterrific hail of bullets from the two machine guns swept the _Scorpion_from stem to stern. One of her machine guns was swept from itsmountings, and it is believed that one at least of her crew was wounded,probably by the Colonel's revolver shots, but as for surrender, thepirates would have none of it, as, apparently unhurt in any vital spot,the _Scorpion_ recrossed the aerodrome, staggering once or twice underthe fierce welter of bullets, managed to leave the ground, and sail overthe tree tops out of immediate range.

  "Confound it! She's absolutely bullet-proof!" shouted the colonel, whowas furious at his failure, for his object had been to capture themachine and its crew wholesale, because of its valuable secrets.

  "We shall see no more of her!" exclaimed Captain Hooper.

  "Just wait a moment," said the skipper of the air-liner. "She'll havesomething to say presently. You don't know these infernal brigands."

  The last speaker was right, for a moment later the infuriated Spitzer,sweeping round at a frightful speed, swooped down upon the littlehangar, where he presumed the English were in possession, swept theplace with a burst of machine gun fire from his remaining gun, thendropped a bomb filled with high explosive right into the middle of thestructure; whilst he, himself, was screened by the trees from theenemy's fire.

  The roar of the explosion was deafening, and several trees in thevicinity of the workshop were blown to fragments, whilst the workshopwas now a tangled mass of wreckage. It was also burning furiously, and athick pall of dense smoke already hung over the spot.

  "The professor!--we must save him!" cried Tempest, who was alreadylimping from a bomb splinter which had pierced his leg.

  Captain Watson ran to help him, but the two machine gunners, Sharpe andHooper, stuck to their posts ready for the next attack, which they knewwould not be long delayed, for Spitzer, during his last circuit, hadmarked the position of the two machine gun posts.

  As the rescuers hastened to the assistance of the prisoners, they cameupon Professor Verne, bleeding from the hands and face, dragging theprostrate form of the German from amid the burning wreckage.

  "Ah, you are wounded?" cried the colonel.

  "It is nothing," replied the other. "See to the mechanic. I fear he iskilled, poor fellow, by his own countrymen."

  It was so; his mangled form was found buried under the _debris_ of theworkshop. The German professor and his rescuer were both helped tosafety; then the battle began again.

  "Here comes the _Scorpion_!" shouted Captain Watson. "Look out there!"and instantly the air resounded with the sharp, short crackle of the airbrigand's gun--

  "Rep-r-r-r-r-r----!" as the raider swept the machine gun posts.

  At this very instant, however, the sound of whistling wires camesuddenly from overhead, as something swooped down from the dizzy heightsupon the attacker. Then the sharp crackle of a Vickers gun rent theair, as, in a headlong dive of two thousand feet, the Bristol Fighterhurtled down, spitting fire through the whirling propeller, and drivingits quarry almost to the ground by its unexpected onslaught.

  By a miracle almost, the _Scorpion_ escaped a terrible crash, flatteningout within two feet of the ground in the middle of the glade, thenstarted its upward climb to out-manoeuvre its new opponent, for the restof this terrific combat was confined to the air.

  The little garrison below came out to see this thrilling spectacle, andeven the wounded German raised himself to watch the _Scorpion_, as heexpected, give its _coup de grace_ to its clumsy opponent. The fightnow was for altitude, dead angles, and the blind side of each opponent,but more especially for altitude, for this is the equivalent in anaerial duel of the windward position, in the days of the old frigates.

  Once, after climbing on the turn, the two machines approached each otherdead on, and each opened a burst of fire simultaneously on its opponent.Carl, the scout pilot, was handling the solitary gun, and, if his aimhad been more steady, that would have marked the finish of the fight.On the other hand Keane's bullets pattered with unerring aim upon thearmoured conning-tower, but with little effect, for so far thefinely-tempered steel resisted even these armour-piercing bullets.

  The watchers down below trembled with rage--all save the German--whenthey saw this fearful waste of markmanship, but up there, calm andcollected, the British pilot clenched his teeth and muttered:--

  "I must find his dead angle! I will attack him from below."

  Then followed a series of thrilling manoeuvres, in which the daringskill of the Englishman alone saved him from his too-powerful opponent.The _Scorpion_, using its superior speed, made a desperate effort to situpon its opponent's tail, a deadly position if it could only beattained. But, looping, banking, sideslipping and occasionallyspinning, the Bristol out-manoeuvred its enemy every time.

  "Shade of Richthofen!" exclaimed the infuriated Spitzer; "but this_verdammt_ Britisher is some pilot."

  Carl had become nervous and agitated at the gun, and his shooting hadbegun to annoy his leader, who shouted angrily, "Let Max take the gun,dachshund!"

  But Max was huddled up in the bottom of the cockpit with an Englishbullet through his head; he had fired his last shot.

  "Blitz! Here he comes again!" shouted the German pilot, as his opponentin the roaring Bristol, with engine full out, made as though he wouldram his enemy in mid-air, though such was not his intention.

  "Himmel, what does he mean?" yelled Spitzer, as he also opened out toavert the threatened collision, then pulled over the controls, stalledhis machine, and attempted a vertical climb.

  "Thanks be!" muttered Keane, for this gave him just the opportunity hesought. For two brief seconds the nether part of the fuselage, the onlyweak spot in the _Scorpion_, was exposed, and with a quick eye andunerring aim the British pilot poured a short burst into the very vitalsof his enemy, then dived for safety.

  It was the end of the fight, for the armour-piercing bullets rippedthrough the softer, thinner steel of its victim, passed through thechamber where the high-pressure cylinders which contained the uraniswere kept, and weakened or cracked one of those deadly things, whichwere at once both the strength and the weakness of the _Scorpion_--theonly thing, as her pilot once said, that its crew need fear.

  Down, down sped the Bristol, as though conscious of the terriblecatastrophe which would shortly follow. It was well that she did, for,ten seconds later, it seemed as if the end of the world had suddenlycome.

  Even while the _Scorpion_ was poised in mid-air, in the very act of herlast vertical climb, with nose pointed to the skies, the frightfulexplosion occurred. The terrified onlookers threw themselves flat uponthe ground, but even the earth rocked, and huge trees of the forest wereuprooted. It was as though the mighty concussion had veritably blown ahole hi the universe. The _Scorpion_, with all her crew, disappeared asif by magic, blown into ten thousand fragments, and scattered likeblazing meteors to the very extremities of the Schwarzwald, while theBritish aeroplane did not escape but crashed to earth, with itsunconscious pilot still firmly holding the controls.

  Thus did the _Scorpion_ meet her end, after all the vaunted pride andskill of her founders. In that place where she was born, there also didshe come to an inglorious end, in the very p
resence of the evil-mindedgenius who had designed her. Even the dying German professor at lastsaw the error of his ways, and wished, in his latest hours, that hisenergy and skill had been devoted to a purpose more lofty and humane.

  The great shock of that mighty explosion was felt for a hundred milesand more. In far distant lands the seismographic instruments recordedits effects. Some said that a great earthquake had occurred in centralEurope, but the Allied Command on the Rhine thought that some mightysecret ammunition dump in the Schwarzwald had been accidentallydestroyed, and they sent assistance in every shape and form. And thefirst to arrive were the aerial patrols, with medicines and supplies,for the survivors on that blackened, devastated aerodrome.

  The unconscious pilot was extricated from the wreckage of the BristolFighter, and after months of careful nursing he was restored toconvalescence, but he will never fly again. For his daring deed, he washonoured by his country, and decorated by his King. Sharpe, Hooper andCaptain Watson, though severely wounded, recovered from their injuries.Professor Verne had a miraculous escape from death when the brigandsbombed the hangar, and Colonel Tempest--though for the rest of his dayshe will limp with the aid of a stick--was mighty glad to lay down hishigh office with a reputation untarnished, and with the added honour ofa knighthood, and a substantial pension.

  It now but remains to tell what happened to that brilliant but misguidedGerman, the renowned Professor Rudolf Weissmann. He lingered foranother day after the terrible event which had befallen his fortune, andhis friend Sir Joseph Verne, constant as ever, waited beside him andtended him amid his sufferings, for there is a wonderful spirit ofbrotherhood and fraternity amongst men of learning. They are thechildren of no particular country, for their parish is the world, and,like our own Shakespeare, the whole earth claims them for its own.

  And when he saw that the time of his departure was at hand, this erringgenius no longer tried to withhold from the world the great secret whichhe held, but, desiring to make what amends he could for the evil he hadwrought, he freely offered to reveal the secret to his old time friendand fellow-student.

  But, alas, he had left it too long. The candle of life was flickeringwithin him, and the end was too near. Even while, with true repentance,he endeavoured to give the hidden formula of the mysterious uranis tohis friend, he fell back exhausted and his spirit fled.

  So the wonderful secret was never revealed, for it lies buried deep in athousand fragments, amid the dark recesses of the Schwarzwald. But Hans,the clock maker, and his friend Jacob Stendahl the wood cutter, and manymore beside, who dwell amid the legend and folklore of the Black Forest,still assert that at certain times, especially when the full round mooncasts its silvery light over the Schwarzwald, the peasant who treadsthese lonely paths may see the phantom airman on his ghostly 'plane.

  * * * * *

  As for Gadget, the little urchin of a stowaway, the sharp-witted,up-to-date cabin boy who photographed the raider in mid-air, andrendered such valuable service to the authorities, he was duly rewarded.The Commissioner of Aerial Police pinned a gold medal on to his littletunic, soon after the great air-liner returned to London, and evendelivered a speech in his honour, congratulating him upon hisresourcefulness and courage.

  He is no longer a street arab, for Captain Watson has adopted him, andsent him to a preparatory school, where he is pursuing a useful courseof studies. But, when the long summer holidays arrive, you will findGadget, dressed in a smart little uniform, with plenty of gold braidabout his cap and tunic, standing beside the captain or the chiefofficer, in the navigating gondola of the _Empress of India_. All whoknow him speak highly of him. And there are even those who believe thatthis little, mischievous, up-to-date cabin boy and erstwhile stowawaywill one day be one of out great air-skippers.

  THE END.

  THE LONDON AND NORWICH PRESS, LIMITED, LONDON AND NORWICH, ENGLAND

  * * * * * * * *

  *THE GREATADVENTURESERIES*

  _Titles uniform with this Series_

  *Percy F. Westerman:*

  The Airship "Golden Hind"To the Fore with the TanksThe Secret BattleplaneWllmshurst of the Frontier Force

  *Rowland Walker:*

  The Phantom AirmanDastral of the Flying CorpsDeville McKeene: The Exploits of the Mystery AirmanBlake of the Merchant ServiceBuckle of Submarine V2Oscar Danby, V.C.

  S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO.4, 5 & 6, SOHOLONDON, W.1.

 
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