rs.

McGee stood for a moment outside the hut, studying the sky, which was a
patchwork of clouds scattered across grey splotches that would turn to
blue with the coming of the sun. Evidently the sky had been quite
overcast during the night, but the clouds were broken now, though by no
means dispersed.

It was an ideal morning for crossing the lines. Convenient cloud banks
were excellent havens in case of surprise, and Archie fire was less
accurate when the gunners had to contend with a ship that plunged into
concealing clouds and out again at the most unexpected places. Of
course, those same clouds offered concealment for enemy planes, but a
pilot crossing the lines alone is considerably advantaged by such a sky
as McGee was now studying approvingly.

As McGee started toward the hangars he saw that some of the ground crew
were wheeling out Siddons' Nieuport. Well, the Major had stuck to his
resolution and the order had gone through.

"Where's Lieutenant Siddons going?" McGee asked the Ack Emma who was
making a careful check of the plane.

"Don't know, sir. Got orders last night to have her ready."

"Did Sergeant Williams get orders for my plane?"

"Yes, sir. Are you and Siddons goin' over on patrol, Lieutenant?"

"I can't answer for Siddons," McGee evaded. "You'd better ask him."

"Huh! A lot of good it would do. Honest, Lieutenant, that fellow talks
less to us than a cigar store Indian talks to the customers--and that's
less than nothin'. He thinks we're worms!"

McGee was about to offer his sympathies when another crew, under
Sergeant Williams, came rolling the Camel out to the line. McGee began
checking it over with the same minute care which had doubtless gone a
long way toward making him an ace. He left inspection to no man. His air
mechanic, knowing this, was equally careful in his work. This diminutive
lieutenant was as mild as an April morning so long as all was well, but
when something went wrong he could say more than a six foot
Major-General.

"All set, Sergeant?" McGee asked, finishing his inspection.

"All set, sir. I just put a new valve in that wind driven gas pump. The
guy that invented that trick should have been tapped for the simples.
Why don't you hang this thing on a church steeple, Lieutenant, and get
one of those Spads?"

"Well, I rather dislike entering a church from the steeple, and I'm sort
of partial to this old crate. She's tricky on the ground, but I'm used
to her ways and sh