“‘Very nearly ready, Sir.’

“‘Right.  Then I think a small piece of toast is indicated;’ and he proceeded to hack the loaf to pieces with great vigour.

“‘Hun over somewhere, sounds like,’ said a sleepy voice as the throb of an engine was heard overhead.

“‘Oh, I can’t help his troubles,’ observed the toast-maker airily.  ’He’s got no right to come at tea-time.  In about half-an-hour or so I might think about—­’

“Here the telephone bell rang.

“‘Now that’s a splendid joke,’ said his unfeeling friend as he laid down the receiver.  ’You’ve got to go up after that chap.  They’re getting your ‘bus out now, so—­’

“‘What!’ came in disgusted tones from the fireside.  ’Don’t be so dam funny.  What do you mean?’

“’Not ragging, really, Bill.  The C.O. said he wanted you to have a shot at that fellow.  Run like a hare.  You may catch him up over Berlin somewhere.  I’ll eat your toast for you.’

“‘Oh, will you?’ grunted the other.  ’What awful rot it is!  Oh, the devil—­where’s my hat?’ and out he plunged.

“Two minutes later he was struggling into a heavy leather coat and, feeling thoroughly ill-used, climbed into his machine.

“The propeller was swung, emitting one hollow cough.

“‘Switch off.  All right, contact.’

“At the third attempt the engine remembered its manners and started up with a jerk.  A few moments to get her running smoothly, a rapid test to see that she was ‘giving her revs.’ and the chocks, were waved away from the wheels.

“Within twenty yards he was off the ground and, throttle wide open, climbing towards the little white dot thousands of feet above.

“And all the time he was grumbling.

“’What awful rot it is!  I’ve about as much chance of reaching the blighter as ...  Running my engine to bits as it is ...  May be able to cut him off when he’s dropped his eggs.’

“Which is precisely what happened.  The last gift had been thankfully received in a ploughed field beneath and the Hun was turning for home when the scout struggled to his level.

“The watchers on the ground saw the small machine press determinedly towards the bigger and a faint crackle of gun-fire broke out.

“It was answered by all the guns on board the enemy craft and the single-seater wavered undecidedly.

“Then he got his adversary fairly in his ring sight again and’ risking everything, fired burst after burst.

“All at once the big machine heeled over and dived—­a flash and a sudden sheet of flame from the engine and down dropped the raider, to dash to pieces in the French fields three miles below.

“Ten minutes later the British machine slithered on to the ground and switched off in front of the sheds.

“‘By Jove, Bill,’ said his friend, rushing up excitedly, ’that was the best show—­’

“‘Not so much of it,’ interposed the ‘hero,’ scrambling out of his seat.  ’What about my tea?  Did you look after my toast for me?  No, might have known you wouldn’t.’”