and practically fired it at the “target” in view.

“Missed,” he grimly observed, but quite pleased all the same, for the bag landed flat and did not roll, and lay not two feet away from its intended mark.

“Hit it!” crowed the excited Hiram as, with a second swoop, he made a direct hit of the second target with a second bag. The third was a miss. The fourth was like the second.

“If I can make it that good, what can’t Dave Dashaway do?” soliloquized the young aeronaut, as he gathered up the bags and replaced them in the Scout. “I’ll spring the scheme on him just as soon as he makes up his mind to go into that International contest, which he’s just got to do!”

Hiram went afloat once more, determined on a swift run west, a turn, and then a course homeward bound.

“Hum” he chuckled. “If any of the airmen saw my maneuvers with those bags they’d think I was practicing to go over to Europe and drop bombs. Now what does that mean?” murmured the lad suddenly, and, with a quick start, Hiram slackened his speed, to study out the details of a lively scene in progress directly beneath him.