AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE RHINE

OR, FIGHTING ABOVE THE CLOUDS

BY CHARLES AMORY BEACH

Author of "Air Service Boys Flying for France,"
"Air Service Boys Over the Enemy's Lines," Etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY
ROBERT GASTON HERBERT

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO.
AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK

MADE IN U.S.A.

Copyright, 1919, by
George Sully & Company

BLOWING UP THE GERMAN MUNITION FACTORY.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I Double News
CHAPTER II Anxious Days
CHAPTER III On to Paris
CHAPTER IV Suspicions
CHAPTER V The Bombardment of Paris
CHAPTER VI The Rue Lafayette Ruins
CHAPTER VII Tom's Father
CHAPTER VIII Where Is Mr. Raymond?
CHAPTER IX Various Theories
CHAPTER X The "Dud"
CHAPTER XI A Monster Cannon
CHAPTER XII For Perilous Service
CHAPTER XIII The Spy
CHAPTER XIV With Comrades Again
CHAPTER XV The Picked Squadron
CHAPTER XVI Missing
CHAPTER XVII Seeking the Gun
CHAPTER XVIII A Cloud Battle
CHAPTER XIX Queer Lights
CHAPTER XX The Big Gun
CHAPTER XXI Devastating Fire
CHAPTER XXII Over The Rhine
CHAPTER XXIII Off For Germany
CHAPTER XXIV Prisoners
CHAPTER XXV The Escape

AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE RHINE

CHAPTER I

DOUBLE NEWS

"Here they come back, Tom!"

"Yes, I see them coming. Can you count them yet? Don't tell me any of our boys are missing!" and the speaker, one of two young men, wearing the uniform of the Lafayette Escadrille, who were standing near the hangars of the aviation field "somewhere in France," gazed earnestly up toward the blue sky that was dotted with fleecy, white clouds.

There were other dots also, dots which meant much to the trained eyes of Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly, for the dots increased in size, like oncoming birds. But they were not birds. Or rather, they were human birds.

The specks in the sky were Caudrons. A small aerial fleet was returning from a night raid over the German ammunition dumps and troop centers, and the anxiety of the watching young men was as to whether or not all the airmen, among whom were numbered some of Uncle Sam's boys, had returned in safety. Too many times they did not—that is not all—for the Hun anti-aircraft guns found their marks with deadly precision at times.

The Caudrons appeared larger as they neared the landing field, and Tom and Jack, raising their binoculars, scanned the ranks—for all the world like a flock of wild geese—to see if they could determine who of their friends, if any, were missing.

"How do you make it, Tom?" asked Jack, after an anxious pause.

"I'm not sure, but I can count only eight."

"That's what I make it. And ten of 'em went out last night, didn't they?"

"So I heard. And if only eight come back it means that at least four of our airmen have either been killed or captured."

"One fate is almost as bad as the other, where you have to be captured by the Boches," murmured Jack. "They're just what their name