Page:Ruth of the U.S.A. (IA ruthofusa00balm).pdf/344

 Gerry steered close enough not only to see the allied insignia but the distinctive details of the British bombing plane—the man who had been bomber and machine gunner was lying back with head dropped; and the pilot, too, had been hit. He seemed to be half fainting, only spurring himself up for a few seconds at a time to control his glide.

Gerry stood up as they glided side by side; he hoped that the Englishman could make out his uniform in the moonlight. He knew it was little likely that the other could hear his shout, yet he yelled: "I'm American; follow me!" And dropping back to his seat, Gerry set himself to selecting the best spot for his landing. Whether or not the English pilot saw or heard, he followed Gerry down. The clear moonlight displayed the ground bare and smooth; it was hard to guess just when to cease dropping and, turning straight into the wind, give your elevators that last little upturn which would permit landing on your wheels and rolling; but he did it, and, turning in his seat as the rolling slowed, he saw the English plane bounding upon the field; it leaped, threatened to topple, but came down on its wheels again. Gerry had his hand on O'Malley. Together they leaped down and ran to where the English biplane had halted.

The English pilot had regained strength; he had succeeded even in lifting the body of his bomber out of his machine; and, considering himself captured, he hastened to remove the top of his fuel tank in order to set fire to his ship. Gerry observed this and shouted:

"Don't do that! We're escaped prisoners! We're Irish and American. Don't!"