"He's used to cyclones, and I've always
had a sort of feeling that he could take care of himself in heavy
weather."

Nothing daunted, Buzz went bowling off in search of Yancey, and McGee
crossed the 'drome to Cowan's headquarters.

The excited enthusiasm with which McGee began his report to Cowan was
quickly cooled by the Major's expressionless indifference. Throughout
McGee's narration of the events of the morning, Cowan continued studying
a sheaf of papers lying on the desk before him, now and then penciling
thereon some memorandum or brief endorsement. That part of the report
dealing with the actions of the lone Nieuport, which seemed to have a
system of signals to insure safe passage over the lines, brought from
the Major no more than a throaty, "Hum-m." It angered McGee, and brought
from him a heated charge which under other conditions he would have
hesitated to make.

"And the man who was piloting that plane is a member of this squadron,"
he blurted out.

Cowan casually turned a sheet of paper. "Indeed," he replied, continuing
his reading. It was maddening.

"Has Siddons reported to you, sir?" McGee asked, pointedly.

"Yes." Cowan arose and looked straight at the flushed young pilot. His
eyes were uncommunicative. "Lieutenant Siddons just left here with
Colonel Watts, going back to Wing headquarters," he said. "I may tell
you, Lieutenant, that the Colonel came down a short time after Siddons
hopped off, and gave me a most uncomfortable half hour for sending him
over. We will discuss it no further, and I charge you with absolute
silence in the matter. You are to say nothing, to anyone, concerning
this entire matter. You understand?"

"I understand that I'm to keep silent, sir--but I don't understand the
rest of it."

"It isn't necessary that you do. That is all, Lieutenant."

"But what about that 'drome I located at Fere-en-Tardenois? I think it
is Count von Herzmann's Cir--"

"You think wrong, McGee, but whatever you think, don't think out loud.
That is all, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. And there are no orders for--"

"Orders will be a little more secret--in the future." Cowan's voice was
crisp, and carried a note of dismissal.

"Yes, sir." McGee saluted stiffly, turned on his heel and walked from
the room, steaming with anger. Outside the door he picked up a small
stone from the newly graveled walk and hurled it singing through the top
of a nearby poplar. He simply had to throw something.

"You poo