Part 12 (1/2)

”See that American flag?” shouted Ralph.

”That's the place for us,” replied Alfred.

Accordingly, they lost no time in making for the hangar on which the emblem appeared. They saw a Farman machine partly outside of the hangar, and in the body of it was seated a ruddy-faced chap.

”What's up?” he asked.

”Came over to help you out,” said Alfred.

He looked down, and slowly said: ”You did, eh?”

”Well, we've seen a little active service at the front, so far,”

explained Ralph, ”been in battle several times, have been captured by the Germans, helped to build trenches, worked with the Red Cross people, and had a few flights in an airplane, and as we like aviation business best of all, we thought we'd come over and go to work.”

The airman raised himself, sat down on the side of the car body, and commenced to laugh, although Ralph's remark was said without the least tinge of pride or boasting. Several from the adjoining hangars came in to learn the cause of the boisterous mirth.

”Well, that's fresh enough to come from real American boys,” he said, after he had sobered down a little.

”That's right; we're from the United States; we came here because we saw the flag on the outside; what shall we do the first thing?” said Alfred.

”From America?” said the man, climbing down from the machine. ”And you are regular Yankees? Well, well; that's too good! I'm something of an American myself. By jingo, you're the kind of fellows to have around.

Want a job? Where did you get your uniforms? They look all right.”

”Oh, these are Belgian uniforms. We were with them, you know, and had a pretty hot time, too,” said Ralph.

This information, as they now knew, was the best credential possible, and they were soon the center of an admiring crowd. Somehow the determined matter of fact and positive way which the boys adopted had the effect of winning their way, and it was thus that they had the satisfaction of entering a service which it is a most difficult thing to do even with the best credentials.

The happiness of the boys was complete when their new friend told them to get up on the machine, and help him to take out the engine. Coats came off in a hurry, and they looked around for some subst.i.tute to protect their clothing.

Their friend supplied the necessary articles at once remarking as he did so that he ought to know their names.

After this information was supplied, he remarked: ”My name is Martin; Bill Martin, Fifth Aviation Corps; don't forget the Corps or you may have trouble in getting into the grounds; and, by the way, how did you happen to get through?”

”If you mean the gates, why, we just walked right through,” said Alfred.

”Just as though you had a right to do so!” said Martin, as he again commenced to laugh. ”You said you were up in an airplane; where was that?”

”Up at Dunkirk, and back of the firing line, south of the St. Quentin,”

said Ralph.

”Do you know Tom Watkins?” asked Alfred.

”Do I know Tom? Why, we came over together; poor fellow, he got a bad fall,” said Martin.

”We heard about it and saw him at the hospital today,” said Alfred.

”You don't say? So you've been flying with Tom? I'm glad to know that,”