Tex nodded, saluted. He went to his barracks, got his helmet and goggles, headed for the Nieuport again. The ground crew pulled her out. Adams across the line! Tex smiled grimly. That lieutenant was getting plenty of work. So were they all, for that matter. He climbed into the cockpit, revved up the little ship’s engine for a few minutes, nodded his head for the blocks to be pulled away. The pursuit plane rolled out across the soggy field, climbed into the sky. Tex headed straight for the front. As the Nieuport gained altitude, he stared over the side. From the northeast, clinging low to the ground, white fog was drifting. Tex Langdon groaned. For a brief second he thought of banking around, turning back. The C. O. was not pleased with his work. And he was winging toward the front with darkness and fog coming to obscure the Squadron field. If he cracked up again-- Well orders were orders. The Nieuport climbed steadily; he banked slightly toward the north, toward Hill G.8. The fog was not yet thick, but it would grow thick. There was little wind. The beat of the Hisso was steady in his ears. * * * * * It took the plane eleven minutes and some odd seconds to reach the Hill. The fog around the rise was slight; it was much thicker back of the ship, back toward the Squadron. There were two ships in the sky, to the east, on the German side of the lines. They were winging toward Allied territory and were flying much higher than the altitude of the Nieuport. Tex searched the sky with his eyes, climbed the Nieuport. He saw no other planes. The American ship had reached an altitude of twelve thousand feet; he guessed that the other two planes were flying just beneath the clouds, at about fifteen thousand. There was no sun, and darkness was not far away. At thirteen thousand feet he leveled off. The two ships heading toward the Allied lines had suddenly piqued; they were diving at his ship but then he saw that he was mistaken. Across the lines, winging back toward the Allied side, was a tiny plane. She was flying with a wing droop and it was upon her that the two other planes were dropping! Tex dove the Nieuport. She slanted down across the lines, her nose pointed toward German territory. He could distinguish the other two diving ships now. They were both Fokkers of the fighting type. The plane below, he guessed, was an Allied ship--trying to get back across the lines. That ship was almost over the lines, and the German pilots had stretched their drive, thus allowing Tex to gain on them. He was within a hundred yards of the nearest enemy ship before the pilot saw him. Instantly the enemy zoomed.