“Which is more good reasoning,” declared Colonel Anderson.

“I guess you are right,” replied Chester.  “I’m with you then.”

“And you, Stubbs?” questioned Hal.  “You have a vote on this.”

“Oh my, I don’t care where you go,” was the answer in a weak voice, “just so you let me put my feet on the ground once more.  I’m so sick.”

“Poor fellow,” said Chester, in a low voice, “he’s frightened.”

“What’s that?” demanded Stubbs in a shrill voice.

“Frightened?  Me frightened?  I’ll leave it to Hal there if I am frightened.  Who was it found the way to get here and help you fellows, anyhow?  Who was it, I ask you?  I’ll tell you who it was.  It was me, Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent of the New York Gazette.  Yes, sir, it was—­Oh, let’s go down.  I’m so sick.”

“Stubbs, you are all right,” declared Hal, and added to the others:  “What he says is perfectly true.  Had it not been for him, we would not be here now.  He conceived the plan that admitted us to the Austrian lines, and if it were light enough you would see that it was a good plan.  I’ll venture to say you would know neither one of us but for our voices,” and he explained in detail.

“By George, Mr. Stubbs, I didn’t think you had it in you!” exclaimed Chester.  He stretched forth a hand.  “Shake!” he said.

“Oh, please let me alone,” moaned Stubbs.  “I’m terribly sick.  How long before we can go down?”

“Not for some hours, I’m afraid,” replied Hal.  “If we were to descend now we would fall into the hands of the Austrians.”

“I don’t care whose hands we fall into,” mumbled Stubbs, “if we could only fall, that’s all I ask.”

“He must be sick,” declared Chester.  “Funny it never affected me that way.”

“No, it’s not,” declared Stubbs, suddenly taking an interest in things.  “Nothing would affect you like it does me.  Nor any of the rest of you.  You are hardened to these things.  I’m a man of peace, and sympathetic, and kind.  You are a lot of hard-hearted brutes.”

The other three occupants of the machine smiled to themselves.  Not for the world would they have laughed at the little man, for he was very close to them all.  And at last Hal said: 

“Tell you what, Stubbs.  I’ll put on a little extra speed, just for your benefit.  We’ll get you back on terra firma just as soon as we can.”

Stubbs’ only reply was another moan.

“Well, Chester,” said Hal, “here we are again, flying over an enemy’s country.  May we be as fortunate as we have been before.”

“Which we shall be,” was Chester’s quiet response.  “We have had our share of bad luck in the last few days.  Fortune must smile on us at last.”

And Chester proved himself a true prophet; for, before another sun had risen and set, the huge air craft had carried its four occupants safely across the Austrian empire and beyond the Montenegrin border.  And here, among these hardy mountaineers, among the best fighters in the world—­among the people of this little Balkan kingdom—­the smallest to declare war against the Teuton oppressor—­the lads were to see more of the horrors of war—­were again to play active parts in the struggle.  And also they were to see service with the heroic Servian troops, than whom there are none braver.