“We understand what we’re up against, I assure you,” Tom replied.  “The plan is entirely Lieutenant Beverly’s, sir.  Sergeant Parmly has reason to get home before the La Bretagne reaches New York harbor, and she’s already three days out.  Learning this, our good friend here made a thrilling proposition, which we eagerly accepted.  That’s the story in a nutshell, Major Denning.”

“I must say I admire your nerve, that’s all,” exploded the other, shaking hands with all of them.  “Just the type of chap I’d like to tie up with.  My word! if I could get leave, and there was room for one more aboard the big bomber, I’d beg of you to take me in.  But I wish you every luck in the wide world.  My word, fancy the nerve of it!”

“We must remember not to speak a word so that any of the men can guess what our real destination is,” Beverly cautioned, as they continued along the path.  “Only my right-hand agent here knows the truth, and he means to keep it dark.”

“But they must suspect something unusual,” suggested Tom.

“It’s hinted that we are aiming at Berlin, don’t you know?” pursued the lieutenant, chuckling.  “But believe me, the game is a bigger one than just that little jaunt, far bigger in fact.”

Presently they came to the shore where the stout hangar was found, partly hidden under the branches of low trees and shrubbery.  Before them lay the sandy stretch of beach hard as a dancing floor, and well fitted to be their “jumping off” place.

Tom bent down to feel it, after the manner of an experienced air pilot.

“Couldn’t be bettered much, could it, Tom?” demanded Lieutenant Beverly confidently.

“I should say not!” was the quick response.

Jack was feeling quite joyous since the outlook for starting on the anticipated flight had become so bright.  At the same time he told himself he would not entirely lose that tense sensation around the region of his heart until they were actually off.

Around the hangar they found a cordon of several armed men; a fact which caused Tom to remember that they shortly before had heard the report of firearms, and as yet had failed to learn the cause.  Then again there was that explosion down the coast.  He turned to Lieutenant Beverly for an explanation.

“We too heard the sound of an explosion,” Beverly told him in reply.  “It came from further down the shore.  There’s some sort of British airdrome in that quarter, I’m informed; and possibly they had an accident there.  As for the shooting, that’s easily explained.  My men were the cause.”

“Spies hanging around, probably?” hazarded the major, in disgust.  “We’ve been bothered with the slick beasts right along—­shot several, but even that didn’t keep the coast clear.”

“There have been skulkers around for some time,” continued the lieutenant.  “Baxter tells me he’d warned them off until he grew tired, and threatened that the next one who was caught trying to peep would be fired upon.  So to-night when a sentry reported suspicious movements in the brush we sent in a few shots, more to give them a scare than to do any damage.”