Python For Financial Analysis From Zero to Hero

1st Edition Van Der Post pdf download

https://ebookmeta.com/product/python-for-financial-analysis-from-
zero-to-hero-1st-edition-van-der-post/

Download more ebook from https://ebookmeta.com

We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebookmeta.com
to discover even more!

Python for Accounting: The comprehensive guide to

introducing python into your accounting workflow Van
Der Post

https://ebookmeta.com/product/python-for-accounting-the-
comprehensive-guide-to-introducing-python-into-your-accounting-
workflow-van-der-post/

Artificial Intelligence Programming with Python From

Zero to Hero 1st Edition Perry Xiao

https://ebookmeta.com/product/artificial-intelligence-
programming-with-python-from-zero-to-hero-1st-edition-perry-xiao/

Financial Risk Management for Cryptocurrencies Eline

Van Der Auwera

https://ebookmeta.com/product/financial-risk-management-for-
cryptocurrencies-eline-van-der-auwera/

Love in the City (Love in the City #1) 1st Edition Jen
Morris

https://ebookmeta.com/product/love-in-the-city-love-in-the-
city-1-1st-edition-jen-morris/
Bipolar II Disorder Modelling Measuring and Managing
3rd Edition Gordon Parker

https://ebookmeta.com/product/bipolar-ii-disorder-modelling-
measuring-and-managing-3rd-edition-gordon-parker/

Case Studies in Abnormal Child and Adolescent

Psychology 1st Edition Robert Weis

https://ebookmeta.com/product/case-studies-in-abnormal-child-and-
adolescent-psychology-1st-edition-robert-weis/

Continuous Integration (CI) and Continuous Delivery

(CD): A Practical Guide to Designing and Developing
Pipelines 1st Edition Henry Van Merode

https://ebookmeta.com/product/continuous-integration-ci-and-
continuous-delivery-cd-a-practical-guide-to-designing-and-
developing-pipelines-1st-edition-henry-van-merode/

Deterrence, Coercion, and Appeasement: British Grand

Strategy, 1919-1940 David French

https://ebookmeta.com/product/deterrence-coercion-and-
appeasement-british-grand-strategy-1919-1940-david-french/

The Thinker s Guide to Engineering Reasoning Based on

Critical Thinking Concepts and Tools 2nd Edition Paul

https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-thinker-s-guide-to-engineering-
reasoning-based-on-critical-thinking-concepts-and-tools-2nd-
edition-paul/
Fae Magic The Kenzie Chronicles 1 1st Edition Genavie
Castle

https://ebookmeta.com/product/fae-magic-the-kenzie-
chronicles-1-1st-edition-genavie-castle/
F I N A N C I A L A N A LY S I S
IN PYTHON
From Zero to Hero

Hayden Van Der Post

Reactive Publishing
To my daughter, may she know anything is possible.
 CONTENTS

Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: Why Choose Python for Financial Analysis?
Chapter 2: Setting Up Your Python Environment
Chapter 3: Basics of Financial Data with Python
Chapter 4: Time Series Analysis with Python
Chapter 5: Statistical Analysis and Hypothesis Testing
Chapter 6: Portfolio Analysis with Python
Chapter 7: Financial Modelling and Forecasting
Chapter 8: Algorithmic Trading with Python
Chapter 9: Advanced Topics: Machine Learning in Finance
Chapter 10: Wrapping Up and the Future of Python in Finance
 CHAPTER 1: WHY
CHOOSE PYTHON FOR
FINANCIAL ANALYSIS?
Choosing the right tool for a specific task is always a crucial decision.
When it comes to financial analysis, that decision becomes even more vital
as it impacts efficiency, precision, and the potential for innovative practices.
Python, a general-purpose language that has become a mainstay in the
world of financial analysis, fits the bill perfectly.

But why the growing penchant for Python? Let's delve into this question.

To begin with, Python embodies simplicity and readability. For

professionals who are novices in programming, Python presents a gentle
learning curve. Its syntax hardly resembles cryptic programming jargon.
Instead, it mirrors English, making it intuitive to learn, read, and write. This
simplicity does not, however, cost Python its power. This dynamic language
can perform complex financial operations with a few, clear-cut commands.

Another compelling attribute of Python is its versatility. It has successfully

permeated multiple fields, from web development to data science, and of
course, finance. In our context, this implies that Python can handle various
tasks within financial analysis – be it data fetching, preprocessing,
hypothesis testing, or complex modeling.

The potent combination of Python with its highly useful libraries further
amplifies its applicability in finance. Libraries like NumPy and pandas
serve as potent tools for numerical computations and data analysis.
Meanwhile, libraries like Matplotlib and Seaborn simplify data
visualization, a key aspect of financial analysis. Moreover, the open-source
nature of Python means that this list of powerful libraries only continues to
grow and evolve.

Python also shines in its ability to integrate with different data sources, a
crucial facet for financial analysts, considering they often work with vast
amounts of data coming from disparate sources. Python's effective API
integrations allow for seamless data retrieval, whether it's from databases,
other programming languages, or direct online sources.

Lastly, a decisive factor for choosing Python in financial analysis is its

active and vibrant community. As one of the world's most popular
programming languages, Python enjoys extensive community support. This
translates to regular updates, guidance, peer solutions, and a host of
resources like ready modules and packages that further ease the tasks of
financial analysts.

The power of Python lies in its simplicity, versatility, and comprehensive

nature, making it the weapon of choice for financial analysis. As we
traverse this book, we'll explore the various facets of Python and how they
lend themselves to empowering financial analyses like never before. Hold
on to this thought as we dive deeper into Python's role in the financial
industry.

A brief history of Python in the financial industry

The genesis of Python as a programming language dates back to the late

1980s when its creator, Guido van Rossum, began working on this
relatively simpler, more readable language during his Christmas holidays.
Released in 1991, Python took off gradually, gaining its real momentum
post-2000. However, its infiltration into the financial world took a slightly
different trajectory.

During the late '90s and early 2000s, finance industry technology was
predominantly ruled by languages like Excel, VBA (Visual Basic for
Applications), and C++. These languages were instrumental in automating
tasks, data analysis, and application building respectively. But, as the
financial world began dealing with larger data sets and more complex
models, these languages' limitations started to emerge. For instance, Excel
was restrictive in handling large datasets, VBA was slow and not well-
suited for complex computations, and C++ was far too intricate for certain
finance professional's coding skills.

As this struggle persisted, Python began its subtle invasion into the
financial technology scene. Financial professionals found in Python an able
all-rounder that could handle sizable data, perform complex computations,
and yet maintain relative simplicity and easy readability. This paradigm
shift wasn't swift. Nevertheless, Python steadily made inroads into financial
institutions and trading floors, replacing or working in conjunction with the
existing languages.

Python's decisive moment in the financial industry came during the 2008
financial crisis. This period saw a heightened need for risk management and
liquidity assessment – tasks that required managing large data sets and
intricate modeling. Python, with its high-data handling capacity and
powerful libraries, emerged as the hero, reinforcing its relevance in the
financial industry.

Post-2008, Python's growth in the financial world accelerated. Corporations

like J.P. Morgan and Bank of America commenced large-scale Python
training programs. The development of Python libraries tailored for
financial analysis, such as pandas in 2008, boosted its adoption further. As
of now, Python has established itself as a vital tool within the financial
industry, be it for trading, risk management, or financial modeling.

In essence, Python’s journey in the finance domain has mirrored its overall
growth - slow, steady, but certain. From its humble beginnings to becoming
an indispensable tool on Wall Street, Python has truly come a long way. As
we dive deeper into this book, we will not only use Python extensively but
explore how it continues to evolve and impact the financial industry.

The power of Python libraries

Python's immense popularity in the realm of financial analysis isn't solely
attributed to the language's simplicity or readability. A substantial portion of
Python's power comes from its diverse libraries. These libraries, collections
of reusable modules, are what confer Python its functionality and
versatility, making it a one-stop solution for various financial computation
needs.

Let's delve into the core Python libraries exploited in the financial industry.

1) NumPy (Numerical Python):

At the heart of many Python-based data analysis functions lies NumPy. This
library provides the backbone of high-level mathematical functions and
operations on large arrays and matrices of numeric data. Its ability to handle
complex mathematical computations with relative ease and speed has made
it indispensable. In finance, NumPy finds utility in areas like calculating the
mean, median, variance, standard deviation, correlation and regression, and
in building financial models.

2) pandas (Python Data Analysis Library):

One of the most influential libraries in financial analysis is pandas –
providing flexible data structures that allow you to work with labeled and
relational data seamlessly. It's specifically designed to handle data
preparation. It offers robust data structures for efficient manipulation and
cleaning, thereby making it suitable for tasks like data wrangling, reading
and writing data, rearranging data, and handling missing data points in
financial datasets.

3) matplotlib:
While finance largely deals with numbers and computations, visualizing
these data can help reveal trends, patterns, and anomalies. Here comes
matplotlib – the de-facto standard library for generating graphs and plots.
With its diverse plots like line, bar, scatter, histograms, etc., it provides a
concrete visualization of financial concepts and scenarios.

4) SciPy (Scientific Python):

Built on top of NumPy, SciPy is another critical library in finance. It
provides more functionality, extending the use of NumPy to areas in
financial statistics, such as probability distributions, descriptive statistics,
correlation functions, and more.

5) scikit-learn:
When it comes to implementing machine learning algorithms in Python,
scikit-learn is the library to choose from. It supports various algorithms like
regression, classification, clustering, and others. Its diverse functionality
finds extensive application in predictive analysis and event-driven trading.

6) StatsModels:
Used for estimating and testing statistical models, StatsModels supports
specifying models using R-style formulas and arrays. With a wide range of
statistical tests, it is a handy tool for constructing confidence intervals and
hypothesis testing in finance.

7) Zipline:
Used extensively by Quantopian, a free online platform for finance-focused
coding, for their backtesting functionality. Zipline handles all kinds of
corporate actions and is suitable for trading strategies that don’t demand a
high frequency.

8) PyAlgoTrade:
A step above Zipline, PyAlgoTrade supports event-driven backtesting, and
even though it doesn't handle corporate actions, such as dividends or stock
splits, it is suited for high-frequency trading strategies due to its
functionality.

Python's power-packed libraries contribute to its adaptability but also

enabling a synergy among them. The strong interconnectedness and
interoperability of these libraries make Python a comprehensive terminal
for financial analysis. The combination of these libraries only broadens the
range of tasks Python can perform, effectively transforming it from just a
programming language to a multifaceted financial toolbox.
Through the chapters of this book, we will unlock the power of these
libraries, unravel their functions, and explore their applications in various
financial scenarios.

Overview of the financial analysis process

Commencing your journey without understanding your destination, and the

route to reach it, is similar to diving into financial analysis without
comprehending its integral process. This chapter illuminates the financial
analysis process's core structure, its significance, and how Python fits into
this big picture. Keep in mind that each analysis will vary as per the
complexity and the particular scenario at hand, but understanding the
skeleton of the process will guide every kind of financial analyst, be it a
novice or an adept professional.

1. Define the Problem or Objective:

The first and most critical step is to understand what you intend to achieve
through this analysis. This could be forecasting future revenues, evaluating
the risk of an investment portfolio, determining the valuation of a company,
or creating an economic model. The aim is specific and clear and sets the
course for the consequent steps in the process.

2. Data Collection:
Once the objective is concrete, collect the necessary data to commence your
analysis. Data could be quantitative, like numerical or financial statistics, or
qualitative, such as information about company management or industry
outlook. Primary data sources can be company reports, financial news,
market data, while secondary data sources could include databases like
Quandl or Alpha Vantage. Python, with its libraries like pandas and its
ability to scrape data from the web or through APIs, ensures efficient and
systematic data gathering.

3. Data Cleaning and Processing:

Here's where Python leaps in again. After collection, data typically needs to
be cleaned and preprocessed before analysis. This might involve handling
missing data, removing outliers, or transforming variables. Leveraging
libraries like pandas and NumPy, Python automates these tasks, ensuring
they're handled accurately, and time-effectively.

4. Conduct Descriptive Analysis:

This involves an examination of the data's main features, often using
statistical measures such as mean, median, standard deviation, or graphical
techniques. For instance, matplotlib or seaborn, Python's visualization
libraries, help create histograms, box plots, and scatter diagrams to explain
the data distribution effectively.

5. Constructing and Evaluating Models:

Depending upon the problem, apply suitable financial models or statistical
techniques. Python's prowess with libraries like SciPy, statsmodels, and
scikit-learn caters to a raft of financial models and statistical tests. From
regression models and time-series analysis to machine learning algorithms,
Python weaves complex computations into comprehensible methods.

6. Interpret and Communication of Information:

Once findings have been deduced, they need to be interpreted and
communicated in a comprehensive format. Here, Python's advanced
libraries help create user-friendly dashboards or engaging plots. Today's
finance industry demands professionals to not just crunch numbers but also
transform those numbers into compelling stories.

7. Review and Revision:

Finally, reflecting on the results and revising the analyses is crucial to
ensure accuracy. Changes in external factors like market scenarios,
economic trends, or internal changes like business strategy may warrant
revisiting the analysis.

This overview serves as a roadmap to the financial analysis process, with

Python as your vehicle on this journey. It's flexible, scalable and equipped
for varied financial terrains, making Python a go-to companion for finance
professionals across the globe. As we delve into this book further, you will
see these steps unfold with real examples and hands-on coding to truly
harness Python's power in financial analysis.
Setting the stage: Python’s role in today's finance world

In the rollicking world of modern finance, where data is the binding fabric
that holds decision-making procedures together, a tool that can tailor this
intricate cloth efficiently is an undeniable asset. Python, an open-source
programming language, has been that tool, diligently threading the path of
data analysis to deepen and refine financial comprehendibility.

Python's dominance in today's finance world is not an abrupt entrant, but a

progressive placeholder, evolving with the industry's zeitgeist. It emerged as
a beacon of productivity, versatility, and simplicity amid the seismic
changes rocking the finance sector. Embracing technology, digitization, and
enhanced computational footing has bolstered Python's importance,
influencing finance professionals to step up from traditional spreadsheet
analysis to more advanced, automated methods.

Python's robust set of libraries and frameworks has painted it as a potent

ally in various facets of financial analysis. The industry's shift towards
quantitative analysis is well-served by libraries like NumPy and pandas,
providing high-performance data analysis tools. Scikit-learn and
StatsModels cater to modern techniques like machine learning, supporting
predictive modeling. Libraries such as matplotlib and seaborn champion
data visualization, aiding in creating compelling graphical representations
of complex financial data.

Financial markets constantly produce vast volumes of complex data, where

bursts of information rain down in milliseconds. Here Python's power to
handle large datasets quickly comes to the fore. It can efficiently synergize
with big data frameworks like PySpark and Hadoop, truly enabling
financial experts to navigate the data deluge. Automated tasks like data
scraping and usage of API for real-time data retrieval, simplify data
acquisition processes.

Merging finances and technology has required a proliferation of

sophisticated, algorithm-driven investment strategies. This arena,
particularly high-frequency trading and algorithmic trading, is under
Python's able wings. Python demonstrates an unparalleled ability to operate
in microseconds, handling vast data influxes and making rapid trading
decisions, a crucial requirement for these trading strategies.

Python allows for an effective mix of power and simplicity. Its easy-to-
understand syntax encourages even finance professionals with minimal
coding experience to calibrate it into their workflows. Additionally, an
active global community constantly refines and expands Python's
capabilities, ensuring it remains in sync with the ever-evolving finance
world.

Emerging paradigms such as Machine Learning and Artificial Intelligence

in finance also see an upsurge in Python usage. Python's arsenal of
sophisticated libraries like TensorFlow and PyTorch accommodates these
cutting-edge technologies, enabling finance professionals to explore
predictive modelling, natural language understanding, pattern recognition,
thus driving better strategic decisions.

Recognizing this significance, leading financial institutions worldwide from

Goldman Sachs to J.P.Morgan have integrated Python into their day-to-day
operations. Younger tech-driven firms and fintech startups embrace Python
for its fluidity between complex computations and web development tasks.

While we admire Python's prominence, we cannot overlook the ethical

considerations that emerge with such technological influence. Maintaining
data confidentiality, integrity, and ensuring reliable and unbiased results are
paramount. These concerns are valid and require a riveting discourse, as we
shall see in the latter part of this book.

Python's position in today's finance world is indomitable, catalyzing a

technological revolution in financial analysis. This book will unravel
Python's multifaceted brilliance in finance, simplifying its complexities, and
making it an accessible and essential tool for every finance professional.
Let's embark on this transformative journey, where Python becomes an
extension of a finance professional's thinking process, mirroring their
aspirations and insights with its computational dynamism.
 CHAPTER 2: SETTING UP
YOUR PYTHON
ENVIRONMENT
Installing Python - A Smooth
Beginning
Navigating the realm of financial analysis with Python necessitates an
initial step—installing Python. It's a straightforward procedure that sets the
stage for all the remarkable analysis you will perform. Think of it as
establishing a robust foundation on which you'll erect an edifice of
insightful financial vibes.

So, how to install Python? Regardless of your operating system—Windows,

macOS, or Linux—the method is smooth and direct. Upfront, ensure you
are installing the most recent version of Python (currently Python 3.x) to
avail yourself of the newest features and security updates.

For Windows and macOS users, download the executable installer from
Python's official website. Upon initiation, check the box affirming that
Python is added to the PATH. This step streamlines how your computer
locates Python for running scripts. Proceed with the on-screen installation
instructions—agreeing to license terms and finally clicking on the "install"
button. It's all you need for a smooth sail into the land of Python.

Linux users might find Python pre-installed. Verify this by typing 'python3 -
-version' in your terminal. In case you don't find Python preinstalled or
require a version upgrade, you can easily fetch it through your distribution's
package manager. The exact commands differ, but they generally encode
'sudo apt-get install python3' or 'sudo yum install python3', followed by the
enter key.

Installation is merely the opening act in this performance. A vibrant Python

atmosphere also necessitates an Integrated Development Environment
(IDE). An IDE is not merely a text editor—it's an encompassing hub of
code writing, execution, debugging, and testing. Python provides its simple
IDLE, but complex financial analysis may demand more powerful options.

From Anaconda-friendly Jupyter Notebooks, handy for dynamic financial

analysis and visualization, to PyCharm, an IDE favored for its smart
assistance and built-in debugger, there exists a broad vista depending on
your specific needs. It wouldn't be a stretch to consider your IDE a trusted
collaborator, assisting you through every twist and turn of coding
adventure. We will deliberate further on IDE selection in the coming
sections.

Python’s potential is capitalized by a miscellany of libraries and how to

install them effectively is another keystone in Python setup. They
encompass everything from data manipulation with pandas, scientific
computing with NumPy, to data visualization with matplotlib, seaborn, or
plotly. Each library enhances Python's capabilities, meshing perfectly with
financial analysis.

Installing a library is as effortless as it can get. The Python Package

Installer (pip), installed concurrently with Python, will be your chariot in
this context. To install a library like pandas, type 'pip install pandas' on your
command line and voila! The facility of installing libraries is almost poetic.

Finally, we touch upon the spine of financial data—APIs. They serve as

gateways to a treasure trove of real-time financial data. Understanding API
and their integrations will have profound impacts on your journey. More on
this later.

Setting up Python is like building a tool kit. The process involves careful
selections that tailor to your research and coding style while engraining a
comprehension of where and how to use each tool. So here's to a smooth
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
 "We're touching one hundred and eighty miles an hour now,"
announced the inventor. "Could do another twenty with ease if we
wished. We'll romp there hands down."

"Why this easterly course?" asked Dick, who, having for the time
being finished with the motors, had taken his place close to the pilot.
"This will land us somewhere in Norfolk if we carry on."

"Only till we pick up the North-Western main line," replied Blake.

"There's nothing like a railway to help you to fix a position. In
conjunction with a good map a railway lets you know where you are
almost to a mile."

Forty-seven minutes from the time the battleplane left the ground a
dull haze upon the horizon indicated that the metropolis was in
sight. Quickly the intervening distance was covered, until at a height
of two thousand feet the airmen were immediately over the Thames.

"Good enough!" declared Blake, at the same time locking the

wings. Although the motors were still running they were acting
merely as "free engines," ready to be coupled up to the wings in a
case of emergency. For the rest of the distance the battleplane was
to glide under the attraction of gravity.

Unerringly Blake brought the battleplane towards the gravelled

expanse of the Horse Guards Parade. Save for a few persons
hurrying across the place was almost deserted. Evidently there was
no sign that the aviators were expected. Either the telegram had
been delayed or the War Office officials had considered it a hoax.

Suddenly Blake coupled up the wing-mechanism. The beating of

the wings caused several of the pedestrians to look skywards. For a
second or so they seemed hardly able to credit their senses.
Aeroplanes they knew, but the huge mechanical bird astonished
them. Right and left they scattered, leaving the parade as deserted
as a Siberian plain.
 Making a faultless landing the battleplane came to rest. Blake,
throwing back the wind screen, awaited developments.

In less than five minutes the machine was surrounded by

thousands of curious spectators. It took all the efforts of a strong
force of police and soldiers to keep the crowd back.

A way having been cleared through the press a group of military

staff officers came up. Amongst them Blake recognised a tall, alert
figure in the uniform of a major-general.

"Good morning, Sir Henry!" he exclaimed. "You see I have carried

out my promise. Come on board, if you please."

Agilely Sir Henry swarmed up the ladder.

"A top-hole fellow," said Blake to his companions during the

officer's progress. "One of the few who were at least sympathetic
when I first submitted my plans."

"By Jove, Blake!" exclaimed the newcomer, as, slightly breathless,

he gained the interior of the fuselage. "This is rather unexpected."

"I warned you," replied the inventor.

"You did, but, pardon my saying so, I was sceptical."

"But not to the extent of some of your colleagues," added Blake

with a tinge of irony. "However, that's done with. Here is the
battleplane. I formally offer her to the Government. But before we
go farther. Do you know that there is a German spy here—actually
within the precincts of the War Office?"

"Good heavens, no!" replied Sir Henry in astonishment. "How do

you know that?"

"Optical proof," replied Blake. "If you'll come aft I'll show you."
 Briefly the circumstances under which Sigismund Selighoffer was
captured were stated, and in a very few minutes the spy was taken
from the battleplane and marched off under escort.

"Now as far as I am concerned I hope I'll hear no more about that

fellow," commented Blake. "My time is too precious to waste in
attending courts-martial. All the same I should be particularly
pleased to hear that von Secker, the spy's accomplice—or rather,
employer—is run to earth. These fellows pay considerably more
attention to outside inventions than does the British Government,
I'm sorry to say. But let me show you round. Oh, yes, there's room
for a few more," he added as three or four staff officers shouted out
for permission to come on board.

With them was one of the civil staff of the War Office. Blake eyed
him with a grim smile, for he was the man who had been so
prominent in cold-shouldering the inventor but a few months
previously.

"Yes, we should like to witness a flight," replied Sir Henry in answer

to Blake's proposition. "This ability to ascend almost perpendicularly
must be a unique, I might say, rather ingenious property. No, I don't
think I will accompany you this trip... another time, perhaps."

One by one the staff officers filed through the aperture in the floor
of the fuselage and descended to the ground, amidst the plaudits of
the crowd. The civilian official was the last to leave, when Blake
touched him on the shoulder.

"You remember me?" he asked.

"Of course, of course I do," replied the man pompously. "I never
forget faces. You will doubtless recollect that during our former
interview I expressed my opinion——"

"That an ounce of fact is worth a pound of theory," rejoined Blake.

"In the circumstances the remark was uncalled for."
 "But in my position one has to look for results," stammered the
man nervously, for Blake had fixed him with that disconcerting look
that had so effectually cowed the spy.

"The result is here," declared the inventor. "You are now going to
accompany us for a spin. You are not afraid?"

If he were afraid the official was doubly afraid to admit it. He

nodded his head.

"Good!" exclaimed Blake approvingly, as he closed the hatchway at

his feet. "Start her up, Dick. Open the exhaust full out. A little noise
will shift the crowd."

Dick obeyed, using the "cut-out." Instead of the engines purring

almost noiselessly they roared like the concentrated discharge of a
battery of mitrailleuses. Then, with a mighty sweep of her wings the
battleplane appeared to stand on end. The next instant she was
soaring swiftly above the dirty grey stone work of the buildings of
the Horse Guards.

The passenger seated in the balanced chair, and seeing the body of
the machine turning apparently around a fixed axis, was too
astonished even to ejaculate. At length, encouraged by the cool
demeanour of Dick and his chum, the official plucked up courage,
and, the battleplane having settled down to a steady position,
peered over the edge of the coaming.

It was his first sight of London from a height of three thousand

feet. He was beginning to enjoy the sensation.

Up and down, describing erratic curves, nose-diving, volplaning and

side-slipping with deliberate intent, Desmond Blake carried out his
spectacular and demonstrative programme. At one moment it
seemed as if the battleplane was diving under the Admiralty Arch; at
almost the next it was skimming the aerials on the twin domes of
the headquarters of the British Navy. Spinning round, almost on the
tip of one wing, the tractable machine circled Nelson's Monument, as
if to pay homage to the memory of the one-armed little man whose
traditions the Navy of to-day so gallantly uphold. Then, at a rate
equal to double that of an express train, the battleplane disappeared
from view, to circle over the Nore at a height far beyond the range
of the most efficient anti-aircraft guns that the Medway Defences
possessed.

Fifteen minutes later the battleplane again came to rest on the

Horse Guards Parade. Her passenger, almost speechless with
unbounded admiration, did not hesitate to make his amends.

Nor was Sir Henry less enthusiastic.

Gripping Blake's hand as the inventor descended from the

battleplane he exclaimed, "Bravo! my dear sir; your aeroplane is
simply great. But why the deuce did you make such a show with it?
By to-night all the world will know about it."

Desmond Blake shrugged his shoulders.

"It was the only way," he replied. "Nothing else would have
attracted the attention of the War Office."

"You certainly have now," said Sir Henry with a smile. "Suppose we
adjourn to my office. I'll summon my colleagues and we can discuss
terms."

"There are no terms to discuss," objected the inventor. "The

battleplane belongs to the Empire unconditionally."

CHAPTER VIII
 A CROSS-CHANNEL FLIGHT

"I am off to France to-day, lads," announced Desmond Blake on

returning to the battleplane after the conclusion of the conference.
"It's sharp work, but now these gentlemen have warmed up they are
like high pressure blast-furnaces. I suggested handing the plane
over to one of the Flying Corps camps and remaining until a military
crew had been trained to its use. They weren't keen on that exactly,
so they made me promise to fly the machine across to the Front. I
have been given a commission as captain in the R.F.C., so the poor
neglected inventor blossoms out into a warrior of the aerial blue.
Well, lads, the best of friends must part——"

"No, fear," declared Dick stoutly, and Athol backed him up in his
protest. "It's not fair."

"On the contrary, it is perfectly fair," said Blake. "You have rendered
me great service, and I deeply appreciate it. But when the
battleplane goes abroad our implied contract is automatically
broken."

"I don't see it," objected Athol bluntly. "We agreed to bear a hand
for a definite period. Locality didn't enter into the conditions. Haven't
we been entirely satisfactory?"

"Entirely."

"Then why are we to be pushed out of it? We are frightfully keen

on the job."

"That I don't doubt," replied Blake. "It isn't that I don't want to
take you. It's the official regulations coupled with a desire on my
part not to run you into danger. You were turned back from the
Front once before, remember."

"Hardly," replied Dick. "We were all right out there. It was coming
home that did us in as far as the Army was concerned. The rotten
part about the whole business is that the authorities insist upon a
cast iron rule concerning a fellow's age. The number of years that a
fellow has lived surely ought to be no criterion. A fellow might be
absolutely fit for active service at sixteen or seventeen; another a
physical wreck at thirty. It's jolly hard lines."

"A youngster of sixteen or seventeen might think he's fit,"

remarked Blake. "His heart is in his work and all that sort of thing,
but his constitution is not properly developed. He crumples up under
the strain, and additional and preventable work is thrown upon the
medical authorities. That's the Army view of the case, I believe, and
it's a sound view to take."

"Yet we maintain that each individual case should be tried on its

merits," declared Athol. "To put the question bluntly: have you any
objection to our going?"

"None whatever," replied the inventor.

"Then let us make an application. If you back us up there'll be no

difficulty. You have the whip hand over this battleplane business."

"I'll see," replied Blake, loth to commit himself. Secretly he was

pleased at the lads' determination and patriotism. Already he knew
that they were capable. Their previous record at the Front proved
that they were physically fit; and they had been strongly
recommended for commissions by the commanding officer of their
regiment.

"All right," he continued. "Come with me."

Leaving a gang of men at work painting distinctive red, white and

blue circles on various conspicuous parts of the battleplane, Blake
set off to find Sir Henry. In the record time of less than half an hour,
so strongly did he set forth the charms of his youthful assistants,
Athol Hawke and Dick Tracey were gazetted second lieutenants in
the finest corps of airmen in the world.
 The next step was to undo the mischief Blake had practically been
forced to do by giving a public display of the marvellous capabilities
of the battleplane. Accordingly it was announced, with all semblance
of a confidential secret, that the machine had developed serious
defects, and had been rejected by the authorities. Experience proved
that by giving out the news in this manner it would spread as quickly
or even more rapidly than if it had been proclaimed from the house-
tops. No doubt there were scores of German agents mingled with
the throng on the Horse Guards Parade, and in spite of all
precautions a fairly detailed description of the battleplane, and
particulars of her destination, would speedily be transmitted to
Berlin.

At two o'clock in the afternoon the battleplane started on her

cross-Channel flight. She rose awkwardly, side-slipping and missing
fire badly, thanks to Blake's elaborate deception, and heading in a
nor'-westerly direction was soon lost to sight.

Still climbing Blake kept her on a course diametrically opposite to

her next landing-place until the battleplane attained the dizzy height
of sixteen thousand feet. At that altitude, favoured by a slight haze,
she was totally invisible from the ground. Then swinging round she
retraced her course, flying at a rate of one hundred and eighty miles
an hour towards the French coast.

Forty minutes later the battleplane planed down. As she swooped

down out of a bank of clouds the lads could see what appeared to
be a comparatively narrow stretch of silvery plain that expanded
almost indefinitely in either direction north-east and sou'-west. It
was the English Channel in the neighbourhood of the Straits of
Dover. Ahead were the chalky masses of Cape Grisnez, the frowning
promontory "flattened" out of all recognition by reason of the
immense altitude of the observers.

"Do you remember the first time we crossed Channel?" asked Dick
of his chum. "Sixteen solid hours of physical discomfort between
Southampton and Havre. We were jolly bad."

"A submarine alarm would not have spurred us to energy," agreed

Athol. "Four hundred and fifty men who had been singing 'Rule
Britannia' at the top of their voices were lying on their backs, and
bewailing the fact that the lady with the trident didn't rule the waves
straighter. And now we are crossing the ditch in absolute comfort."

"Put on your flying helmets, lads, and lower the wind-screens,"

ordered Blake. "Nothing like getting used to Service conditions. Be
careful as you lower away."

The warning was most necessary, for when the struts supporting
the wind-screens were removed, it took practically all the strength at
the lads' command to resist the fearful pressure of the wind upon
the transparent panes.

Speaking, save by means of the voice-tubes, was now an

impossibility. The furious air-currents, whirling past the airmen's
heads, sounded like the continual roar of a mountainous sea
breaking upon a rock-bound shore. The keenness of the wind cut the
lads' faces; its violence almost took their breath away. For the first
time they fully realised the sensation of speed through space.

Suddenly Blake, leaning outwards, pointed at something almost

immediately beneath the fuselage. Following the direction of his
outstretched hand, the lads could see a small glistening speck
seemingly but a few feet above the sea. It was a monoplane.

Bringing their glasses to bear upon the machine the lads could
distinguish it clearly. It was a British aircraft also making for the
French coast, although owing to the relative difference of speed it
looked as if it were flying stern foremost in the opposite direction. It
was staggering in the teeth of a strong north-easterly gale, the
effect of which was hardly noticeable in the upper air. The use of the
binoculars also revealed for the first time that there was quite a
mountainous sea running, while a patch of swirling foam betokened
the presence of the dreaded Goodwin Sands.

Blake raised his wind-screen. His companions followed his example

with alacrity. Peace reigned within the body of the battleplane, and
conversation could be resumed.

"Plucky fellow, that airman," remarked Blake. "It wants a bit of

nerve to set out across Channel on a day like this. Yet it is an
everyday occurrence, and mishaps are few and far between.
Contrast what that flying mail has to encounter with the conditions
under which Blériot flew from Grisnez to Dover. The Frenchman's
achievement was the talk of the world; probably only half a dozen
people know of that fellow's flight. Of course I don't want to detract
anything from Blériot's splendid feat, but—hulloa! what's that?"

Instead of the rhythmical purr of the motors came the

unmistakable "cough" that precedes the stoppage of the engines
through carburation troubles. In a trice Dick slid from his seat and
made a hasty examination. As he did so the motors ceased firing.

"We're out of petrol," he reported. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Blake

incredulously. "The tanks were refilled when we started from
London."

"They're empty now, at any rate," added Dick. "Yes, I see what it
is, the pet-cock on the draining pipe is open."

"Some of our visitors must have knocked it accidentally," declared

the inventor. "Be as sharp as you can, Dick. There are some spare
tins in the after compartment. One will save her. We're volplaning
rapidly and against the wind we won't be able to fetch the land."

With her wings rigidly extended the battleplane was descending at

an angle of thirty degrees to the horizontal. In ordinary
circumstances she ought to be able to cover a distance of ten or
twelve miles—more than sufficient to land her in French territory—
but owing to the force of the hard wind her relative speed over the
"ground"—which happened to be a raging sea—would be less than a
couple of miles.

While Athol unscrewed the cap of the tank Dick crawled for'ard
with a two-gallon tin of spirit. Recklessly he poured in the precious
fuel, "tickled" the still warm carburettor and swung the engine.
Without hesitation the motors began purring in their normal and
businesslike manner.

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Blake. "You were just in time. We were only

fifty feet up when she fired. Carry on with the other cans. There'll be
just enough to get us home."

Dick was now painfully aware, as he carried can after can of petrol
from the store compartment, that the battleplane was in the grip of
the storm fiend. In her downward glide she had passed from the
region of comparatively uniform wind pressure to a stratum in which
vicious erratic currents assailed her on every side. In spite of the
lad's utmost caution he was continually hurled violently against the
side of the fuselage, while it was a matter of greatest difficulty to
keep his footing upon the heavy floor of the steeply-inclined
machine.

"Enough," ordered Blake. "Stand by. We're nearly there. I spot an

aerodrome. It may be a British one. At any rate, we'll land."

Dimly wondering how the pilot would bring the huge battleplane to
earth in that howling wind, the lads "stood by." Their confidence in
Blake was unbounded.

Head to wind the machine planed earthwards. The whole expanse

of the aerodrome seemed as if it were rising to greet the unique
mechanical bird. Men, to whom the almost hourly arrival and return
of flying machines caused little or no comment, emerged from their
huts to witness the landing of the weirdest battleplane they had ever
seen.
 With almost an imperceptible jerk the landing wheels struck the
sandy soil. Simultaneously Blake "switched off" the motors and
thrust a lever hard down. The wings folding without a hitch no
longer offered resistance to the wind, and the battleplane, pinned
down to the earth by its own compact weight, rested firmly on the
soil of France.

*****

"So you have arrived," was the Wing Commander's greeting. "We
were expecting you. Had a fair passage?"

"Fairly," replied Blake. "A slight mishap over the Channel well-nigh
landed us into the ditch. It was blowing very hard at the time."
"Seen anything of a monoplane on your way over?" enquired the
flying officer. "We had information that one of our latest type of
machine had left Newhaven a couple of hours ago."

"Yes," was the reply. "We passed her about half-way across. She
was flying low and apparently making slow progress against the
gale."

"A tough task for a new hand," commented the Wing Commander.
"The youngster took his certificate only a fortnight ago, and this is
his first cross-Channel flight."

"He would have done better if he had kept eight or ten thousand
feet up," hazarded Blake.

"Possibly," rejoined his new chief drily. "Only it happens that our
new pilots are specially warned to fly low when making for the
French coast."

"I had no such instructions," declared Blake.

"Therefore it would not have been a great surprise to me if you

had carried on right over our lines and dropped gently on one of the
Germans' aviation grounds. We have already had one or two cases
like that. Our new pilots, not being sufficiently acquainted with the
locality, have overshot the mark. Deplorable of course, but the fact
remains."

"Here comes the expected monoplane, sir," reported a young flight-

lieutenant.

Still flying low and rocking under the influence of the eddying air
currents the monoplane battled towards the aerodrome. At that
altitude there was no mistaking the nationality of the men awaiting
the aviator's arrival. Two mechanics, detaching themselves from
their comrades, made ready to steady the planes when the machine
touched ground.

With admirable precision the airman "flattened out." So well timed

was his descent that it was almost impossible to determine the
precise moment when the monoplane was air-borne and when it
was supported by its landing wheels.

Rolling over the ground for nearly fifty feet the monoplane stopped
head to wind. The pilot descended, removed his goggles and flying
helmet, revealing the boyish, clear-cut features of a man barely out
of his teens.

Numbed by the cold he walked unsteadily, rubbing his hands as he

did so in order to restore the circulation.

"A bit nippy," he remarked casually, after he had formally reported

his arrival. "She did it jolly well, though. By the bye, I see you've got
here ahead of me," he added, addressing Blake and nodding in the
direction of the securely held battleplane.

"I didn't imagine that you saw us; we were ten thousand feet up
when we overtook you," said Blake.

"Neither did I," admitted the flight-lieutenant.

 "Then how——" began the battleplane's inventor, surprised at the
confession and at a loss to understand why the pilot of the
monoplane was able to report on the former's progress.

"I'll let you into a secret," rejoined the young lieutenant laughing.
"Last Friday at a quarter to nine in the morning that weird-looking
'bus," and he nodded in the direction of the battleplane, "ascended
from a shed at a spot roughly twelve miles south of Shrewsbury, and
proceeded in a south-westerly direction. Quite a short flight, out and
home. Now, am I not correct?"

Almost dumfounded, Blake had to admit that the airman's

information was correct.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

"Simply that instead of your being ten thousand feet above me I

was that height above you," was the astonishing reply. "The
Intelligence Department is not so sleepy as some people would have
it believe. We had orders to try to locate a mysterious battleplane
that was propelled by means of movable wings. I happened to be
the lucky one to spot you, so you see we are not exactly strangers."

"And let us hope," added Desmond Blake, extending his hand,

"that we shall be pals."

CHAPTER IX
A FIGHT TO A FINISH

For the next three days the crew of the battleplane were kept
busily employed in getting ready for active service against the Huns.
With the utmost expediency thousands of bullets made to Desmond
Blake's specification had been turned out in one of the British
ammunition factories and dispatched across to the aerodrome. Here
they were taken in hand by mechanics attached to the R.F.C. and
fitted into ordinary Service rifle cartridges for use with the automatic
guns.

Both Athol and Dick had to undergo a brief but efficient machine
gun course, and were instructed in the art of aiming at rapidly-
moving targets from an equally mobile platform. Several branches of
the flying officers' art they were not at present to touch. Blake's
battleplane was to be used for purely offensive purposes, so that
there was no occasion for the lads to be instructed in registering,
observation and reconnaissance work. Nor was there time to study
wireless. An apparatus had, however, been installed, and to work it a
fourth member of the crew was appointed—Sergeant Michael
O'Rafferty.

O'Rafferty was an Irishman by birth, name and characteristics. He

was a light-weight of eight stone seven pounds, as agile in body as
he was mercurial in temperament. Already he had two Hun biplanes
to his credit, and was one of the most reckless flying men of that
particular squadron.

Amongst other alterations to the battleplane on becoming a Service

machine a regulation bomb-dropping device had been fitted in the
floor of the fuselage. Eighteen powerful bombs were to be carried,
and, when occasion arose, released by the application of the pilot's
foot upon a pedal, while for offence against bodies of troops boxes
of "flêches" or steel arrows were stowed on board.

The arrival from London of their uniforms completed the lads'

preparations, and fully equipped they eagerly awaited an opportunity
of meeting the Hun airmen.
 The chance came sooner than they expected, for late one evening,
when most of the reconnaissance machines had returned to their
hangars, four enemy battleplanes were observed to be approaching.
They were flying high to avoid the anti-aircraft guns in the rear of
the third line of trenches.

Enemy air-raids had been few of late. The Hun aviators for the
most part contented themselves by merely patrolling behind their
lines on swift Fokkers, swooping down upon the equally daring but
under-powered aeroplanes employed by the British for observation
purposes. On this occasion it was evident that a raid upon the
aerodrome was in contemplation.

Instantly there was a rush to man the British aircraft. Three got
away before Desmond Blake could collect his crew and drag the
battleplane from her shed; but once the huge mechanical bird drew
clear of the ground her marked superiority in climbing became
apparent.

Athol stood by the foremost quickfirer; O'Rafferty was at the after

one; Dick had perforce to tend to the motors since the slightest hitch
might result in victory to their opponents. Blake, cool and collected,
though it was the first time that he was opposed to a hostile
airman's fire, piloted the swift battleplane, manoeuvring to gain the
equivalent to the old time "weather-gage"—a superior altitude.

Observing the novel type of aircraft rising to meet them, two of the
Fokkers circled and prepared to dart down upon their opponent.
Either they misjudged the speed and power of the British battleplane
or else they deprecated the skill of her crew until it was too late.

With her engines all out the battleplane darted across and far
beneath the downward course of the two German aircraft. A sharp
burst of machine gun fire from the Huns was futile, for under-
estimating the speed of their antagonist they made insufficient
allowance in their aim. Harmlessly a sheaf of several hundred bullets
whizzed astern of the secret battleplane.

Round swung the Fokkers in pursuit. For the first time they realised
that in a climbing contest they were hopelessly beaten. In twenty
seconds Blake had secured an undisputable gain. He was nearly a
thousand feet above his opponents, and almost immediately
overhead.

In that position the British battleplane was immune from her

opponent's fire. The machine guns of the Fokkers were mounted so
that they could fire ahead between the blades of the swiftly-moving
propellers—less than five per cent. of the bullets being deflected in
their path through the arc of revolution. The guns could also be
swung round to fire on either side, but training of the weapons in a
vertical plane was considerably restricted. It was impossible to fire at
any target that was anything like overhead; a contingency that the
Huns had not provided for, since their hitherto superior speed
enabled them to decide their own conditions of fighting.

"Stand by, Athol!" shouted Blake.

Considering that Athol had been "standing by" during the whole of
the flight the order seemed unnecessary until the lad grasped the
significance of his superior officer's bidding.

Like a kestrel the battleplane dived towards the nearmost of her

opponents. The pilot of the Fokker saw the danger. Discharging a
large smoke-bomb he strove to escape under cover of the dense pall
of vapour. For a few seconds it seemed as if the manoeuvre would
prove successful, until Blake turned his craft and brought her on a
parallel course to the escaping Hun.

The Fokker could now use her machine guns, although aiming was
a matter of extreme difficulty. A hail of bullets clipping neat little
holes in the tips of the battleplane's wings showed how close the
shots were to securing telling hits.
 Athol and Sergeant O'Rafferty opened fire simultaneously, since
both machine guns could be brought to bear upon the German
aircraft. Caught by the stinging hail of bullets the Fokker's struts and
tension wires seemed to fly into fragments. Her shattered planes
tilted upwards as she commenced to fall earthwards. Then, bursting
into flames, the Hun machine crashed to the ground two thousand
feet below.

A peculiar and disconcerting ping close to Athol's head warned him

that the fight was not yet over. The second Fokker, finding that the
mysterious aeroplane was directing its attention upon Hun No 1, had
manoeuvred for its favourite position, and owing to the battleplane
describing a circle the relative distance was now considerably
decreased.

In a trice Blake banked steeply. As he did so O'Rafferty let loose a

couple of dozen rounds. The Hun, hit more than once, turned and
fled.

Giving a hasty glance round Blake took in the situation. The

remaining Fokkers had been disposed of by the British biplanes, but
not before one of the latter had to make an involuntary landing with
its petrol tank perforated like a sieve and its observer badly
wounded. There was now a fair chance of matching Blake's
battleplane against the vaunted and possibly overrated Fokker.

The latter, with clouds of smoke pouring from her exhaust, was
making off towards her own lines. Before gaining shelter she would
have to pass over the British trenches less than thirty miles from the
encounter, even if she were successful in throwing off pursuit.

Blake was equally determined to smash his opponent long before

the latter came within sight of the German trenches. It was essential
that in this early stage the secret battleplane should not show
herself to the Huns over their own lines. The systematic
disappearance of the "star" enemy airmen, without any hint of the
nature of their destruction, would have a telling effect upon the
morale of their flying men. It was a parallel case to the steady and
unannounced decrease in the number of German submarines, scores
of which left port never to return, and leaving no record of their
disappearance save that known and jealously guarded by the British
Admiralty.

"Now see what you can do, Athol," exclaimed Blake, as the
battleplane, gaining upon her antagonist hand over fist, was in a
favourable position to open fire.

Glancing along the sights Athol pressed the thumbpiece of the

firing-mechanism. Some of the shots took effect, for the Fokker, in
spite of the frantic efforts of the pilot to keep it under control, began
to dive.

Athol ceased firing. The hostile aircraft was done for. Humanity
urged him to let the Hun crew save themselves if it were possible to
avoid being dashed to pieces upon the ground.

Erratically swaying, lurching and side-slipping, with one of the

wings twisted like a broken reed, the German aircraft fell through a
thousand feet of space before the pilot was able to check its
descent. For ten seconds it seemed on the point of recovering itself,
then the headlong flight was resumed.

Well in its wake followed the British battleplane. Blake was resolved
to watch developments. He was curious to know the fate of the Hun
crew.

Retarding the battleplane's flight the pilot kept her well under
control, circling around the path of his defeated antagonist. Just as
the Fokker was on the point of landing with an appalling crash the
machine tilted acutely, then making a tail-dive alighted heavily upon
the ground, throwing both pilot and observer from their seats.
 In an instant the redoubtable Hun pilot regained his feet. Although
fully expectant to be greeted by a discharge from the battleplane's
machine-gun he staggered towards the wreckage and dragged his
unconscious comrade further from the pile of tangled and twisted
metal and canvas. Then striking a match and igniting his celluloid
map he threw the blazing fabric into the petrol-soaked wreckage.

Bringing the battleplane to earth within twenty-five yards to

windward of the burning aeroplane Blake descended, followed by
Athol and the sergeant.

The Hun, revolver in hand, stood on the defensive, although no

escape was possible, for already soldiers were hurrying up from their
billets in a neighbouring hamlet. The Hun, not knowing what
treatment he would be accorded, was evidently under the
impression that no quarter would be given.

"Hands up!" ordered Blake.

"You no shoot, me no shoot," replied the German aviator, still

brandishing his pistol. "Spare my life and surrender I will make."

"We respect a brave foe," exclaimed Blake. "But you are our
prisoner."

The German dropped his revolver and folded his arms. Blake
advanced with outstretched hands to compliment his opponent on
his bravery, but as he did so the aviator reeled and fell senseless to
the ground.

"They'll both pull through, I should imagine," declared an army

doctor who with others had hurried to the spot. "They look a pair of
tough birds. But, by Jove! what type of aircraft have you here?"

"Just an experiment," replied Blake modestly. "We haven't done so

badly for a first attempt. Hop in, Athol, night's coming on apace, and
I'd rather tackle half a dozen Huns than risk a landing in the dark."
 CHAPTER X
TRICKED

"Mornin', Blake," remarked the Wing Commander. "Feel like an out-

and-home flight? Thought so. Well, give a glance at this map."

Three weeks had elapsed since the secret battleplane had worsted
the two Fokkers—three weeks of strenuous activity. The battleplane
bore many honourable scars, souvenirs of aerial combats. But as yet
her rôle had been a purely defensive one; she had never gone over
the German trenches, hostile anti-aircraft had not as yet sent their
shrapnel shells bursting all around her. Already the Huns had learnt
of the presence of a super-powerful aircraft of unique design, and
with feelings akin to dismay they realised that risky as it had been to
fly over the British lines it was no longer practicable anywhere within
the radius of action of the mysterious mechanical bird.

"Look here," continued the Wing Commander, placing a long,

slender finger on the unfolded map that lay on the trestle table,
"that's Olhelt, a village or rather hamlet not far from Hasselt, and
within ten miles of the Netherland Frontier.

"We've received information that the Bosches have a secret

Zeppelin base there, and that their new airships that are to be
employed solely for raids over England are finally tested there before
passing to active service. The place is strongly protected by
Archibalds, and there are a dozen planes constantly on duty. Now, I
want you to make a reconnaissance. If possible, bomb the Zeppelins
to blazes. Would you prefer to undertake the job alone or shall I
send a supporting squadron of swift battleplanes?"
 "We'll tackle it alone, sir, I think," replied Blake. "Our silent motors
are a decided factor in our favour, which would be thrown away if
we were accompanied by any biplanes."

"So I thought, but I felt that I ought to give you the option,"
rejoined the Wing Commander. "Now, there is another point. We
have a Belgian officer here, a man furnished with the highest
credentials from the Belgian headquarters. He's a Limburger, and
knows the district around Olhelt remarkably well. His name, let me
see,"—the officer referred to a docket—"yes, his name is Etienne
Fauvart, a lieutenant of the 21st Regiment of the Line. This man, for
patriotic and personal motives—it was he who first reported the
Zeppelin base; had the information from a relative living near
Hasselt—wishes particularly to take part in the raid. According to his
story he has a heavy account to settle with the Bosches near his
home. It occurred to me that he might be useful for pointing out the
various landmarks. From all accounts the place is rather puzzling for
a strange airman to find."

"Whether he is to come with us or otherwise is for you to decide,

sir," said Blake.

"Personally I am inclined to favour the suggestion," continued the

Wing Commander. "Since you are so good as to leave the matter in
my hands, I think you'd better take Lieutenant Fauvart. I'll have him
brought in."

He touched a bell. An orderly appeared in the doorway.

"Bring the Belgian officer here," ordered the Wing Commander.

Lieutenant Etienne Fauvart was a loose-limbed man of about thirty.

He was of average height, broad of shoulder and dark-featured.
Although he clicked his heels as he saluted he lacked the alertness
of the typical British officer.
 "I am honoured to make your acquaintance, sir," he said in English
with a good accent when Desmond Blake and he were introduced.
"Also I esteem it an honour to go with you in your magnificent
invention. I hope that we are able to blow the Zeppelins to pieces.
Ciel! I look to the hour."

"Certainly an enthusiast," thought Blake as the Belgian discussed

with his British confrères the plan of attack.

It was eventually decided that the secret battleplane was to leave

the flying ground at an hour before sunset, soar to a great altitude
and arrive over her objective shortly after sunset. Elaborate
arrangements were made for her return, the aerodrome to be
brilliantly lighted on receipt of a wireless message from the returning
battleplane. In view of the possibility of a failure of the wireless a
red and a blue star rockets were to be fired by the airmen.

The Belgian officer formed a supernumerary member of the crew,

since Blake was loth to leave either of his three airmen behind.
Accordingly Fauvart was placed at the post usually occupied by Dick
when his duty with the motors had for the time been accomplished.
Young Tracey accepted the situation with the utmost good-nature.
Although reluctant to miss the visual part of the fun he realised that
it was "some" luck to be able to participate in the great raid.

For the rest of the day the airmen were busily engaged in
overhauling the mechanism, studying maps and otherwise preparing
for the task. Etienne Fauvart, evincing great interest in the
battleplane, had taken a deep fancy to Dick, and followed him with
keen zest, asking innumerable questions.

"The fellow bores me stiff," soliloquised the lad. "He seems a

decent sort, but he does ask awkward questions. He looks too cute
to be stuffed, and I don't like choking him off. The only thing I can
suggest is to refer him to Blake."
 The Belgian took the hint quite good-naturedly. He refrained from
asking any further technical questions, but Dick noticed that he
made no attempt to "freeze on" to the imperturbable inventor.

At length, at the appointed hour, the battleplane started on her

adventurous flight, her crew being sent-off with the hearty good
wishes of their brother airmen—wishes for the most part expressed
in that bantering, happy-go-lucky style that characterises men who
have more than a nodding acquaintance with death.

The thin air literally shook under the concussion of hundreds of

heavy guns as the battleplane swung high over the opposing lines. A
big "affair" was in progress—one of those furious exchanges of
strafing that are airily referred to in the official reports as "an activity
of some magnitude." Two mines had just been sprung, their
positions marked by huge clouds of smoke and dust. But of the
actual fighting none was visible to the crew of the battleplane. A
dense haze hid the khaki and grey fighting men from view, although
rifle firing and the rattle of machine-guns could be distinctly heard as
the see-saw struggle for the possession of the newly-made craters
continued with the utmost desperation.

So intense were the undulations of the atmosphere over the terrific

cannonade that the battleplane rocked violently. Her wings, beating
the disturbed air with tremendous speed, seemed hardly able to
support the main fabric. While the flight over the scene of the
fighting lasted the mechanical bird was plunging and banking like a
ship in a heavy following gale. So severe was the strain that had any
of the metal-work been the least defective the weakness would have
shown itself with dire results. Even Blake gave vent to an
exclamation of relief as the machine drew safely away from the
disturbed area.

"The spires of Hasselt," declared Lieutenant Fauvart, when, half an

hour later, one of many of the numerous Belgian towns appeared in
view, showing up clearly in the slanting rays of the setting sun. "You
see those forests to the north? Beyond them lies Olhelt. It is in a
valley, with trees all around. Already the valley is in shadow. The
time for vengeance is at hand."

Evidently vengeance was the uppermost thought in the man's

mind. Both lads had been curious to know the reason for the
Belgian's oft reiterated words, but with their typical English reticence
had refrained from asking him for enlightenment.

"I am cold," exclaimed Fauvart a moment later. "A man who is cold
cannot do his work well. I go and get my heavy coat."

"And he wouldn't take my advice before we started," thought Athol,

as the Belgian slipped from his seat and disappeared within the
fuselage.

"We are in sight of Olhelt," announced Fauvart to Dick, who was

sitting on the floor by the side of the motors.

"Are we?" replied the lad. "Think I'll have a look out."

He made his way to the Belgian's vacated post, and, leaning over,
took in the expanse of country far beneath. Blake was circling the
battleplane, since it was yet too early to volplane to the work of
destruction. At that immense height, and thanks to the almost total
absence of sound, the battleplane was safe from observation from
the earth.

"I feel like a stoker in a naval engagement," thought Dick as he

returned to his post. "Nothing to see, and all up if anything goes
wrong. Another ten minutes will see the job through."

It seemed an interminable time before an acceleration of the

motors announced that Blake had disconnected the wing mechanism
and had locked the wings for a spiral volplane.
 Dick promptly throttled down, and stood ready at the first sign to
open the motors all out. As he did so he became aware of a peculiar
smell. It was something like but not the same as that of burning oil.
Then with disconcerting suddenness the motors ceased firing.

"Engine failure," reported the lad.

"Hang it all!" ejaculated Blake. "Couldn't have occurred at a worse

time."

The Belgian started and whipped out a revolver.

"For me there is no surrender," he exclaimed dramatically. "I shoot

myself rather than be a prisoner of war to the Bosches."

"Stop it!" exclaimed Blake, releasing his hold of the controls and
gripping the Belgian's arm. "We are not done in yet. Far from it. Put
that thing away and be reasonable. Look out and see if you
recognise a good landing-place."

Fauvart, rallied by Blake's manner, did as he was told. By this time

the battleplane was less than two thousand feet up. Somewhat to
the airmen's surprise no shells came from the invisible anti-aircraft
guns known to be somewhere in the vicinity.

"There!" exclaimed the Belgian, indicating a clearing in the woods,

where even in the twilight the grass showed distinctly against the
darker green of the treetops. "It may be safe to land there. If the
Bosches have not already seen us we may escape detection."

"Any luck yet, Dick?" called out the pilot anxiously.

"No, sir," replied the lad, still deftly juggling with the magnetos,
where apparently the fault lay.

With his customary skill Desmond Blake brought the battleplane to

earth in the clearing pointed out by the Belgian lieutenant. His first
act after landing was to fix a detonator and time fuse in position.
Rather than allow the machine to fall into the hands of the enemy
Blake had resolved to blow her to fragments.

"Be ready to slip it when I give you warning," he cautioned. "Stick

it, Dick, but don't stop a moment after I give the word."

Some minutes passed but there was no sign of outside

interruption. Athol, Sergeant O'Rafferty and the Belgian alighted,
leaving Blake in the pilot's seat and Dick toiling at the motors, since
the lad preferred to work alone in the confined space between the
engines. The Belgian, having seemingly recovered his self-
composure, began to stroll towards the edge of the clearing,
carrying a large can.

"Where are you off to, Monsieur Fauvart?" asked Athol.

The lieutenant half turned his head and put his finger to his lips.
Then signing to the lad to follow, he hastened his footsteps,
although treading as softly as before.

O'Rafferty was about to accompany Athol when Blake called him

back to bear a hand at slewing the battleplane round head to wind.

"They've gone to get some water for the radiator," said the pilot
reassuringly. "Fauvart knows of a spring close handy. Getting on all
right, Dick?"

"I'm doing my best," answered the lad guardedly.

The sergeant, lighting a cigarette, paced to and fro, with eyes and
ears alert to catch the first sight or sound of anything of a suspicious
nature.

Suddenly, to Blake's intense satisfaction, the motors began to purr

smoothly.
 "You've found out what was wrong, then," he said, at the same
time motioning to the sergeant to take his place on board. "What
was it?"

Before Dick could reply a revolver shot rang out. Then came the
sounds of several men crashing through the brushwood. An instant
later twenty or more grey-coated figures appeared in sight, led by
the supposed Belgian officer.

"Surrender instantly!" he shouted. "Lieutenant Hawke is our

prisoner. Do further damage to the battleplane and no quarter will
be given. Hands up and you will receive honourable treatment."

CHAPTER XI
THE FATE OF A SPY

"All out, Dick," shouted Blake, at the same time coupling up the
wing mechanism. Sergeant O'Rafferty, springing to the after
machine-gun, swung the weapon upon the nearmost of the German
troops. As he did so a ragged volley greeted him, the bullets either
passing through the aluminium covering of the chassis or else
whizzing harmlessly overhead.

With her wings beating the air with tremendous force the
battleplane drew clear of Mother Earth. Four or five Germans,
rushing forward, clung desperately to the framework of the landing
wheels, amongst them the Hun who had so successfully posed as a
Belgian officer.

Unfortunately for them they had totally under-estimated the lifting

power of the mechanical bird. Blinded by the cloud of dust thrown