"
"What is worrying you specially?" asked Jimmy Hill, smiling.
Bob was one of the soundest fliers of the six of them, but he was
forever making hard work out of anything he did not understand from the
ground up. Once he had mastered the why and wherefore, he was at
peace, but if the reason was hidden from him he was never quite sure
on that point.
"It is this," answered Bob. "Most all of the machines they have been
putting me up against lately have been those speedy little one-man
things---the hunters. Now I understand all about the necessity for
speed and agility in that type, and I can see that the fixed gun in
front, sticking out like a finger in such fashion that you have to
point the plane at a Boche to point the gun at him, is a thing they
can't well get away from. That Hartford type of hunter just over
from home is rigged up that way, and I can get the little gun on
her pointed anyway I like. But all guns fixed that way fire through
the propeller, and just exactly how all those bullets manage to get
through those whirring blades without hitting one of them is not
quite clear to me yet.
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