Part 5 (1/2)

”Great!” said Bob.

But Hal was just a little sick. He said nothing, and waited for the world to settle down again.

”You sure handle the s.h.i.+p like you used to in the old days,” said Hank admiringly to Bill.

”She's a great s.h.i.+p,” said Bill, modestly.

Hank had an idea. ”Say,” he said impulsively, ”how would you like to fly her while I'm in Europe?”

”Gee, Hank, I really don't think”-began Bill. He thought, the same old Hank, always generous, always impulsive.

But Hank was going on with his plan. ”Listen, I won't take 'no' for an answer. You fly my plane. And you can fly it up to the Canadian cabin if you want to. Then a perfectly swell vacation plan won't be entirely thrown away. How about it? The cabin is all ready to move into. They've been fixing it up for me. What do you say? Are you game?”

”Game?” said Bill. ”Gee, I'm crazy about the idea. But I don't see why you should do this for me.”

Hank was embarra.s.sed. ”You've been pretty decent to me in other times, remember that, Bill, old boy,” he said.

”Forget it,” said Bill.

Hank turned to the boys. ”Bill here shot down a Boche when the Boche was all but stepping on my tail. Those were the days, eh, Bill?”

”You bet,” said Bill. ”We sure were glad to get back alive. Remember old Lufbery? Raoul of the Lafayette Escadrille? There was a boy who could shoot them down. Six out of seven in one day. Not bad flying, that. They used to get pretty close to Raoul themselves. He'd come in with his clothes ripped with bullets, but ready to go right out again with the next patrol. Then one day he got his, and there wasn't a man there that wouldn't have given everything he had to save him, either. He'd gone up after a German that n.o.body seemed able to down. Lufbery climbed up to get above him, and dove. But something went wrong with his plane-G.o.d knows what, and those who were watching from the ground saw it burst into flame. Then they saw him stand on the edge of the c.o.c.kpit and jump.

It was horrible. But it was the only way for Lufbery to die-with his plane. He wanted it that way.”

Then Hank said, ”And Bill Thaw! There was another flying fool. Bill was great fun-always laughing and joking, just as if his next flight might not be his last. Remember what he did to those three German planes when they got fresh with him, Bill?” He turned to the boys. ”Thaw,” he explained, ”was coming back from his regular patrol, when he suddenly came face to face with three German planes. One of them maneuvered to his left, the second to his right, and the third dove below him to fire up. Well, Bill had to think fast, and he did. He side-slipped until he was directly over the plane below him, and fired down. One gone. Then he pulled himself out of a steep dive, and went after the second plane. A quick swoop, and a steep bank, a rapid burst of fire, and the second German went down in a burning nose dive.

”From then on it was nip and tuck, and each man for himself, dog eat dog. It was a pretty even battle. The German was plucky, and ripped into Thaw for all he was worth. But one lucky turn, one accurate shot, and Thaw had him. Down went his plane. Thaw, his plane in ribbons, his clothes bullet-riddled, limped home, stepped out of his plane with a smile, and a joke on his lips.”

”Golly,” said Bob, ”that must have been great fun. I wish I'd been there.”

”What would we have done with a baby in swaddling clothes?” laughed Bill.

”Aw,” said Bob, ”you know I mean if I was old enough.”

Hank was looking into the distance, with the far-away look that meant another story was coming on, and Bob stopped talking.

Finally Hank said, ”Remember Luke and Wehner? What a team! You never saw two men so different in your life. Frank Luke talked a lot-not always the most modest fellow in the world, either, and made a great to-do about everything he did. But he sure did plenty of damage to the Germans. Joe Wehner was quiet, modest, never talked very much, and never about himself. But still they were always together. Came to be known as 'The Luke and Wehner Duo.'

”They worked together, too. Went out on the same patrol and always stuck together. Luke's specialty was shooting down Drachens. Those were the German observation balloons that they sent up behind their lines to observe what was going on in the American lines. Of course, the information they got caused plenty of harm, and anybody who shot down a Drachen was doing a lot of good. But the things were expensive and useful, and the Germans sent them up with plenty of protection. There was always a swarm of planes flying around them and ready to light into any stranger that came near.

”Luke and Wehner used to take care of that. Wehner would fly above Luke, looking out for any plane that might come to attack him. If one hove in sight, Wehner would go for him and engage him while Luke flew on and shot down the balloon. Balloon after balloon went down. The Germans were getting wary.

”One day when Luke and Wehner were on their way to see what they could do about three Drachens that were watching the American lines, they met up with a formation of Fokkers. Wehner dived into the uneven battle.

Luke flew on, and shot down one, then the other bag. But the gallant Wehner had fought his last fight. One of the Fokkers downed him. Luke, who saw what had happened to his pal, left the remaining balloon and furiously charged the Fokkers. He fought like mad, zooming, diving, spurting fire into those German planes. Two of them hurtled to the ground. The others fled. Luke started for home. On his way he engaged and downed another enemy plane. It was a record that on any other day he would have boasted about. But not that day. His pal had been killed, and Luke was for once silent and speechless.

”Of course, he didn't give up balloon breaking. He added up a goodly store. But one day he got his, like so many of them. He'd sent three Drachens down in flames that day, when his own plane was so badly crippled, and he was so badly wounded that he was forced to land. He wouldn't let them take him, though, and he died fighting. When a band of German soldiers approached him, he pulled out his gun and shot six of them before he fell dead.”

It was Bill's turn. ”Of course you boys have heard of Eddie Rickenbacker. There was an ace for you. If it was speed and trick flying that you wanted, Eddie was the man to give it to you. He had a bag of tricks that would get any pursuit plane off his tail. But he didn't always use them. He didn't have 26 planes to his credit for nothing.

Eddie was a great ace and a great scout.”

Hank interrupted. ”Here we go ga.s.sing again like two old fogies. I feel like my own grandfather sitting on the front porch and discussing the battle of Bull Run. We are getting old, aren't we, Bill? These youngsters ought to be glad that they didn't have to fly those old buses that we used, though. The new planes are great to fly. You two are going to have a grand time. I'd rather fly than travel any other way. But I don't think that it would be quite the thing to suggest to my wife now that I would rather fly to Europe with her than take the boat. So old Hank will be a land animal this time. Or rather, a water animal, instead of a bird.”