of the six pirate planes, the three leaders had no nerves at all—they were automatons.
No; two were automatons; but the third was Pete!
I saw him in one of those three leading planes flung headlong into the fight. His control pilot, flying behind him, aimed him at the first of the oncoming navy planes; and the first of the navy planes aimed straight for him, head on at each other and firing, they flew; and I stared, sick at the sight.
Straight on, without faltering, the navy plane flew; some friend of mine, a classmate, the pilot! On, straight on for another split of a second; for he would not lose nerve first. On!
They crashed! It was head on, flying each at five miles the minute. For the navy man would not first swerve; and Pete's control sent him into the crash.
With my eyes, I followed them down; and falling and fluttering near them, dropped wings from another plane; a wingless fusilage shot into the sea. The survivors of the six
