oo bad both sets
of brains wasn't put in one head. In that case somebody would have been
almost half-witted. Better toddle along, soldier. The animals are goin'
on a rampage in a minute."

"Yeah? Well, turn 'em loose. I'm something of a big game hunter myself.
What sort of a flyer is this instructor?"

"Dunno. We'll see in a minute, maybe. He's crawling in that Spad. Yep,
they're turnin' her around. Don't go now. You can learn a lot here."

During the next ten minutes the entire squadron, and the ferry pilots,
were given an excellent opportunity to form their own conclusions about
McGee's ability to fly. He took the Spad aloft, in test, and plunged
through a series of acrobatics that served to convince all watchers that
here was a man whose real element was the air. Ship and man were one.

The group on the ground watched, open-mouthed, despite the fact that
they themselves were flyers of no mean ability. But they had never flown
such ships as the Spads, and the prospect and possibilities made their
hearts race with feverish eagerness to take off in one of these trim
little hawks.

Yancey and Smoot had now joined the watching group around Major Cowan,
and as McGee rolled at the top of a loop, Yancey turned to the doubting
ferry pilot.

"Yes, I think he can fly. What do you think, brother? When you can do
stick work like that, you'll be sent up here to join us."

Major Cowan was equally envious, but he was not one to betray it. "A
very bad example," he commented, testily. "An excellent pilot,
doubtless, but reckless. His take-off, for instance. He zoomed too long.
I want to warn you against such a mistake."

The ferry pilot, Smoot, decided to take a chance. "The example seems
good enough, and if that fellow's flying is a mistake, I'm sure Brigade
would like to see a lot more mistakes like him."

"The commander of this squadron will answer to Brigade for the conduct
of this group, Lieutenant Smoot," Major Cowan retorted with such acidity
that the poor ferryman decided it was time to join his own group and
head for the base. But before taking his departure he relieved his mind
in the presence of Yancey, Siddons and Hampden, who had drawn away from
Cowan through a desire to watch the flying rather than listen to his
lectures on the art of flying.

"If you had a flyer like that one up there for a C.O.," Smoot said to
them, "you'd get somewhere in this little old war. But as it is, you
have my sympathy. Well, toodl