Without a word the chums picked up this sentry, carrying him around to the rear.  Then Dick sought the small rear door of the hangar.  It opened softly, and they entered, closing it behind them.

All was darkness in here until Reade, producing his pocket electric torch, threw a beam of light over the scene.

While Dick stood still, now holding the automatic pistol, Tom took a rapid look over each of the two air machines.

“This nearer one looks like the newer, better one,” Reade declared.  “I’ll look over the machinery to make sure that the engine is all right and that I understand the engine and the controls.  Her machine-gun is ready for business and we may need it.”

Dick stood patiently by, wondering how soon the guard was due to be relieved.  If that happened soon, and the knocked-out sentries were discovered, the chance for escape looked like three less than nothing!

“All right,” whispered Tom at last.  “I can handle her, and there is water enough in the radiator and the gas tanks are filled.  Now, then, we must open the doors as noiselessly as possible.”

Dick taking the left-hand one, Tom the right, they rolled the doors back.  These moved almost noiselessly.

“Here’s the way you turn the engine on,” Tom whispered, holding the torch and getting Dick up into the cockpit of the craft.  “Turn it on as soon as I say, but not a second before.”

Placing himself in front of the propeller Tom gave it a few brisk turns.

“Now!” cried Tom, leaping back.  The ignition caught at once.  Tom clambered over into the cockpit, Prescott now being in the observer’s seat forward.

With the wheel in his hands and his feet resting against the controls Tom Reade suddenly dropped all apprehension.  He was as much at home now as Prescott was with an automatic pistol in his hand.

Waiting only until the engine had gained its speed without missing, Tom cried: 

“Ready, pal!”

Out through the open doorway Reade sent the airplane “taxying” or running along the ground.

Across the field toward them came racing a German aviator with a startled look on his face.  He had to jump out of the way as the “taxying” airplane bore down on him.  But he reached for his automatic and brought it forth.

“Stop!” he roared.  “Turn out the guard!” Bang! bang!

Two bullets whizzed by Tom’s head.  Prescott fired three shots instantly, one of them taking effect, for the German officer went to earth and lay there, his pistol now silent.

From behind the hangar several members of the guard came rushing from their tents.  By the time they were in front of the hangar they could shoot only by guess, and might hit their own comrades in the troop camp.  So they fired into the air, wildly, rapidly.

So much shooting was bound to rouse the troop camp, and did.  The sentries came out on the jump.  While some fired star shells that lighted the sky, others took quick aim with their rifles.