Don Hale with the Flying Squadron
CHAPTER IX--THE ACE
Many of the students confidently believed that by the time another dayhad rolled around Albert would have so far recovered from the effects ofhis thrilling experience as to reconsider his determination. This,however, was not the case.
A few privately expressed the opinion that Drugstore was a quitter, but,somehow or other, the boy's frank avowal had raised him in the opinionof the majority, who sincerely regretted that so promising a pupilshould be lost to the school.
During the late afternoon another American arrived. Of course this wasnot a very important event. Students were always going and coming, someleaving for the _Ecole de Perfectionment_[5] others being sent back totheir regiments when it was found that they were not fitted by nature tobecome successful airmen.
But a little incident in connection with the appearance of the newcomerprofoundly interested those of an observant or inquisitive nature. Itwas a rather dramatic meeting between him and the former collegestudent, Victor Gilbert.
The latter, who was now in the third class and gave promise of being oneof the best of the _eleve_ pilots, upon entering the room and comingface to face with the other halted as though almost petrified withastonishment, and exclaimed:
"Hello! You here, Jason Hamlin!" Whereupon the other answered, in a tonewhich showed no trace of friendliness:
"Yes, I am here, Gilbert. And one of the reasons I am here is becauseyou are here. Does that disturb you?"
"Not enough for me to notice it," returned Victor Gilbert, coolly.
"Flying is a dangerous game, eh?"
"There are other games just as dangerous."
"There are other games just as dangerous"]
At this remark Jason Hamlin's face flushed perceptibly; his fingerstwitched; a steely glare which plainly told of a spirit moved to angercame into his eyes.
But the interesting colloquy ended there.
"I say, wasn't that mighty curious about Gilbert and Hamlin?" exclaimedBobby Dunlap, otherwise Peur Jamais, to Don Hale, after the evening mealwas over. "I wonder what Gilbert meant by saying: 'There are other gamesjust as dangerous.'"
"It's too much of a riddle for me."
"I tried to pump this Jason person a little," declared Peur Jamais, "buthe was as dry as an old well gone out of business. Strikes me there's alittle mystery which I'll have to unravel."
"I'll let you have all the fun of the unraveling," chortled Don. "Go toit, Mr. Sherlock Holmes the second."
"All right!" chirped Bobby. "I hope I shan't get a punch in the eyewhile I'm sherlocking. Our friend Jason looks as though he wouldn't havemuch trouble in finding his temper."
"Or losing it," said Don, with a laugh. "But say, Bobby, I got a letterto-day from George Glenn. And what do you think he's seen?"
"Break it to me gently."
Thereupon Don Hale drew from his pocket the missive, and began to read:
"'To-day I had a mighty exciting experience. It was during my two hours'patrol over the enemy's line, and the "Archies" were following my planethick and fast.'"
"The 'Archies'! What does he mean by 'Archies'?" interrupted Bobby.
"It's a name the flying fighters have given to the anti-aircraft guns,"replied Don. "Though I reckon no one knows exactly the reason why."
He resumed:
"'Don, I must confess that this afternoon I got a pretty big scare. Iwas just about to return to the encampment of the squadron when I sawsomething that made my pulse throb as it hasn't throbbed even when I wasengaged in a duel in the air. It was the sight of two crimson planesswooping down upon me from above--a part of Captain Baron VonRichtofen's Red Squadron!'"
"Great Caesar's bald-headed nanny-goat!" ejaculated Bobby. "Where's mysuit-case? I think I'll go home with Drugstore."
"I shouldn't blame you," laughed Don.
"'By the time I made this startling discovery the foremost had openedfire with his machine gun. And the first thing I knew bullets wereripping through my plane.'"
"I don't think I'll wait for my suitcase, after all!" exclaimed PeurJamais. "Whew! What did George do to them for that?"
"The next chapter is as follows," said Don:
"'I threw my plane into the vrille, and the next shots sped over myhead. That might not have saved me, either, had it not been that some ofthe boys, seeing my predicament, literally sailed into the Germans.'"
"Poor child!" cried Bobby. "By this time I really ought to be half-wayto the station."
Don continued:
"'From now on I expect things to be more dangerous than usual, which issaying a good bit. I will write again soon if--though I will say aurevoir.'"
"I can't say the prospect looks so very enchanting," confessed Bobby."But, as the French say, 'C'est la guerre!' And that means it isn't anypink tea affair, eh?"
"I guess not; though I never drank any pink tea," laughed Don.
Some time later T. Singleton Albert approached the two.
"I thought I'd say good-bye, fellows," he announced. "I'm leaving duringthe forenoon to-morrow, and you chaps might not happen to be around."
"It's too bad!" said Don. "I suppose it's no use of our saying a word,eh?"
"Not a bit," declared the other, very emphatically. "That tumble in theair certainly did the business for me. Why, do you know, even the verysight of an airplane going aloft gives me the queerest kind of feelings.Take my advice--be a bit slow in making haste. Then you won't have topack your suit-cases and get out, as I'm doing."
Albert spoke in the tone of one who felt that his ambitions had beenrudely shattered--that the future held no hope.
The daring young airman who had astonished the students by his rapidprogress had become once more the drugstore clerk, the very antithesisof what an airman might be expected to appear.
Drugstore solemnly wished them the best luck in the world, hoped theymight win fame and glory in the sky, and then, after shaking hands veryheartily, wandered away to say his adieus to the others.
"I think, after all, the soda-water counter is his proper sphere inlife," remarked Dunlap, presently. "He's more fitted to be reading aboutthe exploits of other chaps than trying to do them himself."
"I hope the weather is all right to-morrow," broke in Don. "It waslooking a bit threatening when we came in--all clouded over. Let's takea look outside, 'Fear Never.'"
"All right," chirped Bobby. "Goodness, how I hate rainy days! I think Iknow, now, how a chicken in a coop must feel."
The two walked outside the crowded barracks, and both at once gave voiceto expressions indicative of disappointment.
The entire heavens was covered with a thick canopy of clouds.
"I don't think Druggy need have said good-bye to-night," remarked PeurJamais, disconsolately. "If I issued a Weather Communique it would soundsomething like this: High and steady winds; heavy rains, with nointermissions between; lightning and thunder in equal proportions;life-boats and rafts in demand.'"
"Never mind," sighed Don. "There are other days ahead of us."
"If I didn't think there were I'd never be standing here as calmly asthis," returned Bobby, laughingly. "Let's go back to the smell ofkerosene and dismal light."
It was rather late when the crowd turned in; and the last one hadn'tbeen asleep very long before pattering drops of rain were heard fallingupon the roof, while the wind, in soft and musical cadences, keptsteadily blowing.
About two A. M. there came a veritable downpour and big, boomingreverberations of thunder. Vivid flashes of bluish lightning filled eachwindow with a dazzling glare and cast a weird and uncanny lightthroughout the room.
"It's a wild night, all right," exclaimed Dublin Dan, half sitting up.
"It means no flying to-morrow," grumbled Mittengale.
"Such little trials have their usefulness." It was Victor Gilbert whospoke. "It teaches, or rather, should teach one to be philosophical andaccept the inevitable with resignation."
"I don't want to be philosophical," complained Pe
ur Jamais. "And I won'tbe philosophical, either. Whew! Some big waste of electric light, that!"
No one made any reply, or if they did it was unheard; for the mostappalling detonation shook and rattled the barracks. It seemed as if thestructure must be shaken from its very foundations.
And thus the storm continued until the boys were routed from their bedsby the musical notes of the bugle.
It was pitch dark and gloomy. The wind tore past with no soft andmusical cadences mingled in with its angry whistling, and now and againa flurry of raindrops splattered noisily down.
The usual roll call was held, and then the boys were free to do as theypleased. Don Hale concluded to take a nap in his former place betweenthe sheets.
When he once more opened his eyes the morning was well advanced.
Jumping out of his berth, with an exclamation of surprise, the boyhastily slipped on his clothes and walked outside.
Scarcely a hint of color could be seen in the landscape. Here and therepools had formed, reflecting the dull, leaden gray of the wind-drivenclouds, the air was filled with moisture, and the dull and heavy-lookingearth seemed to have absorbed all it could possibly hold.
Gazing at the landscape was not a particularly enjoyable pastime; so theboy reentered the barracks.
An hour passed, during which the crowd amused itself in various ways.Then a shout outside was heard. Although the words themselves were notunderstood, it was a call so clearly intended to bring the boys that ageneral stampede for the door was made.
And when they reached it, they perceived a biplane which, in utterdefiance of the treacherous wind buffeting it about, was approaching theaviation grounds at tremendous speed, its graceful, rocking formoutlined in lightish tones against the sinister-looking storm-clouds.
"I believe he's going to land!" cried Don.
"Of course. Did you think he was condemned to fly forever!" chirpedDublin Dan.
Now the loud, droning hum of the motors and propellers, which had beenfilling the air, suddenly ceased, and the object darting swiftly throughthe sky began to volplane in graceful spirals toward the earth.
Realizing that the biplane, which all now recognized as a Nieuportmachine, an _avion de chasse_, as the French call them, would alightsome distance away, the crowd started running over the muddy fieldtoward it.
And while they were on the way the pilot made the most perfect_atterrissage_[6] any of them had ever seen.
T. Singleton Albert, who had not yet left, was enthusiastic in hispraise.
"Oh, boy, wasn't that jolly fine!" he cried. "And----"
He got no further; for just then some one bawled out with much gusto andboisterousness:
"It's a machine belonging to the Lafayette Squadron!"
"The Lafayette Squadron!" echoed a number of others, the rather shrilland falsetto voice of Drugstore being plainly heard.
Sure enough, the insignia of the famous flying squadron--the face of anIndian warrior, now faded and worn by the rains and snows which hadbeaten upon it, could be clearly distinguished on the body of therakish-looking plane.
Don Hale forgot all about the dreary prospect ahead of him for the dayin his absorbed contemplation of the visiting biplane. Then his glancesfell upon the aviator just on the point of stepping from the nacelle, orcockpit.
"Hello!"
He uttered the word aloud and excitedly.
The appearance of the aviator was thoroughly familiar. He had seenpictures of him many a time. A curious thrill shot through the boy; forsuddenly he realized that he was looking upon William Thaw, the famousAmerican Ace, one of the most commanding figures of the Franco-AmericanFlying Corps.
Others, too, among the crowd had recognized the renowned aviator, and aburst of enthusiastic cheering ending in a "Rah, rah, for Thaw!" rangout.
The famous ace smilingly bowed his acknowledgments, remarking:
"Many thanks, fellows! I thought I would just take a flyer over here topay a brief visit to my old friend, the commandant."
"But--but--you didn't actually come all the way from the front,Lieutenant Thaw, did you?" almost stuttered T. Singleton Albert, whoseeyes were fixed with strange intensity on the trim, thoughmud-bespattered little Nieuport.
"Oh, yes! Had quite a scrap, too, just before leaving. Did I get theBoche?" Lieutenant Thaw smiled genially. "No. I think that particularTeuton must have had faith in the old adage that 'He who fights and runsaway may live to fight another day.' Now, boys, I suppose it's quitesafe for me to leave the machine here until I return?"
Being assured that it was, the aviator, with a wave of his hand, startedtrudging through the soggy field toward the commandant's office.
By this time Don Hale and Albert were making a close examination of theNieuport. Both took a look at the cockpit, beautifully finished in hardwood, and at the upholstered pilot's seat, and studied thebrightly-shining nickel-plated instruments which tell the pilotpractically everything he needs to know while in the air.
There was something else, too,--an ominous-looking something else--whichattracted and held their interest--a Vickers machine gun, the firing ofwhich is so perfectly timed that the bullets fly between the whirlingpropeller blades.
To Don Hale, and, doubtless, to many others, that weapon, catching andreflecting numerous gleams of light, was almost awe-inspiring. And, toadd to these feelings, they presently discovered several bullet holes inboth the upper and lower planes, silent and eloquent testimonials of theperils which always face the intrepid and courageous fighters of theair.
At first Albert had been quite talkative--that is for him; then, as hewalked around the machine, studying every detail with the same interestthat a connoisseur might have displayed in the contemplation of a rareand priceless piece of statuary, he suddenly became silent. Finally hismild, unassuming air deserted him, and, straightening up, he exclaimed,loudly:
"Fellows, I've changed my mind. Nobody is ever going to call me aquitter. I'm not going to leave the school after all. No, sir! I'll keepat the flying game; and, by George, I'll get to the front, too."
Following his sudden and almost vehement outburst, there came a silence.
But it was quickly broken. And as loud as had been the cheering for thevisiting aviator it distinctly held second place to that which greetedT. Singleton Albert's unexpected declaration.
The boys shook his hand and slapped him delightedly on the shoulder.
"Julius Caesar! The Germans are going to pay dearly on account of thisunexpected visit of Lieutenant William Thaw," cried Roy Mittengale.
"Poor Baron Von Richtofen and his Red Squadron of Death!" laughed BobbyDunlap. "Just think of all those gallons of red paint gone to waste!Drugstore, your nerve is simply grand!"
A little later, when the American lieutenant returned, the students toldhim about the incident, whereupon he, too, heartily congratulatedAlbert.
"We need young chaps like you at the front," he declared. "The airservice is of the greatest importance. It has been called the 'Eyes ofthe Army.' The game, too, is wonderfully thrilling--wonderfullyinteresting. Let me wish you much glory, success--and safety."
As he spoke, he climbed into the cockpit.
Don Hale gave the propeller a whirl and, presently, amid a chorus ofgood-byes, the Nieuport started off. Faster and faster it moved over thefield, sending streams of mud and water flying in every direction, and,at last, gaining sufficient momentum, it glided into the air.
The crowd watched the biplane until it had disappeared in the murky,moisture-laden air.
"Boys, I'll never forget this day," declared Drugstore. "It's strangehow little things may alter the whole course of a person's life!"
And every one, quite as solemnly, agreed with him that it was.
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Footnote 5:
School for advanced students.
Footnote 6:
Atterrissage--landing.