As he flashed by a second time Tim caught the look of alarm in Tommy's eyes and saw the other examining the chute pack. There was the sudden roar of another motor and McDowell, forgotten for the moment, shot down toward them. "He's after us!" cried Prentiss. Without looking Tim sent the monoplane into a tight roll and the wings of the old trainer almost brushed their landing gear as they flopped over. A bullet crashed through the bottom of the cabin. "He's on to us," said Tim grimly, "but we'll keep him busy until Tommy can land that crate of his." Tim whipped the monoplane out of the roll. Below him McDowell was hard after Larkin's plane. It was evident that he was out to destroy the other flyer if at all possible. He was going at Tommy head-on again. This time there seemed little doubt but what the ships would crash in spite of all that Tommy could do to escape the trap. McDowell's plane was too fast. He met every maneuver of Tommy's and played him one better. For the moment he had forgotten Tim in his terrible concentration of destroying the flyer he felt sure had turned in the evidence which would lead to his arrest. If he had not forgotten Tim, he had sadly underrated the flying ability and nerve of the reporter. With wind screaming past the struts and motor on full, Tim dove headlong toward McDowell. Some sixth sense must have warned his prey for McDowell threw a startled glance over his shoulder. Instantly he changed tactics and left Tommy to make a hurried landing with the old trainer while he took up the new feud with his unforeseen foe. Prentiss opened the windows on the right side of the cabin and steadied the rifle. There was a grim purpose written on the tensed lips. If he could line his sights on McDowell, the rifle would spit flame and death. Crouched on the floor of the cabin, finger crooked on the trigger, cheek resting on the gunstock, he waited for the chance he felt was sure to come. Below them the startled thousands watched the deadly duel, craned their necks as the planes twisted and darted through the air, and at times seemed almost to crash before one of them flipped this way or that just in time to avert a catastrophe. Tim and Prentiss had the advantage of a slightly faster plane but McDowell had a chute. If they crashed he would have a chance of escaping while the flying reporter and the narcotics inspector would be pinned in the falling wreckage of their ship. McDowell was playing the game for his life. In spite of their danger Tim thrilled to the masterful flying which it required to escape the mad rushes of the other.