Amos had conceived a sudden startling thought, and he watched the evolutions of the rising and falling aeroplanes with additional interest. It could easily be noticed, however, that the machines of the Allies monopolized his attention. “Oh! I wonder if one of them could be my brother Frank,” Jack heard him saying presently. “It’s one chance in ten he’s working up there right before our eyes,” the Western boy admitted. After that Amos could hardly tear his eyes from the darting aeroplanes. When he saw little puffs of white smoke breaking close to one of them and knew that this must be shrapnel shells sent from anti-air craft German guns, his heart seemed almost in his throat with sudden anxiety. “Oh! that would be too cruel!” he exclaimed. “If I came all the way over here to find my brother, only to see him shot down before my very eyes.” “Don’t think of it,” Jack told him. “Chances are those are British airmen, and Frank may be far away from here.” “Oh! he’s been struck, and is falling!” exclaimed Amos in sudden terror. “His machine has been put out of commission, it seems, but the pilot aims to coast down so he can land back of his own lines. And as sure as you live he’s doing it, too.” They forgot everything else, because of their intense interest in the fate of the pilot of the stricken monoplane. A short time later Amos broke out with half a cheer, such was the excitement he was laboring under. “Jack, he’s landed, don’t you think?” “Reckon he has,” agreed the other. “And safe behind the British lines.” “You’re right there, Amos, because the place where he struck is some distance this side of the village. That brave fellow is all right, even if his machine was put out of commission.” “But the others keep at work right along, Jack.” “They direct the gunfire of both sides, to a considerable extent, and it would be a hard thing to get along without aeroplanes nowadays. This war has shown how useful they can be. But look over yonder. I do believe those are the British reserves we saw, going into action.” “Oh! you’re right, Jack, for I glimpsed the Highlanders deploying behind that stone wall. And I think that must be the Canadian regiment charging with their bayonets.” “It surely is, because I heard their yells when a shift came in the wind just then. Oh! shucks! there that smoke has to settle down again and shut off our view when it was getting so thrilling.” “To think that the same kind of fierce fighting is going on along miles of territory. Do you think there’s a chance the Germans may break through at this point, Jack?” “They may in small detachments while all the confusion is on, but not in great force,” Jack replied. “All these things have been anticipated and prepared for. A battle is like a game of chess, with every move having a meaning of its own. The general who can best guess the plan of the enemy, and lay his own to trip him up, is the one who’s bound to win.”