ed stays and struts and shook his head.

"Take up Bartholomew's machine--he went sick this morning," he said.

Tam superintended the preparation of Lieutenant Bartholomew's "pup" and
climbing in gave the signal.

"What's the matter with Tam?"

Thornycroft, a flight commander of 89 A, had strolled across and stood
with Blackie watching Tam's tiny machine humming cloudward.

"Tam has what is called on the other side a 'hunch,'" said Blackie;
"come and look at this machine and see if you can find anything wrong
with it. She's new from the maker," he went on, "in fact, the young
gentleman who represents the firm is at this moment in the mess laying
down the law on aviation, its past, present and illimitable
future--there he is!"

Thornycroft paused in his inspection to watch the newcomer. He was a
young man of singular confidence, who talked so very loudly to the
officer who accompanied him that the two men by the machine felt
themselves included in the conversation long before they could make
themselves audible in reply.

"Hello--hello," said Mr. Theodore Mann, "what's wrong--eh?"

"One of my best pilots took her up and didn't like her," said Blackie.

"Didn't like her? What's wrong with her--cold feet, eh? Bless you, they
all get it sooner or later--'the pitcher goes often to the well,' et
cetera. That's a proverb that every flying man should unlearn, eh?"

He leapt lightly into the machine and jiggled the joy-stick.

"I'll take her up if you don't mind--hi, you!" he called a mechanic,
"start her up--ready--contact! Z-r-r-r--!"

The little bird skimmed the smooth floor of the aerodrome and dived
upward in a wide circle.

"She's all right," said Thornycroft, shading his eyes; "what's wrong
with Tam, I wonder?"

"Tam doesn't funk a thing," protested Blackie, "I've never known him--my
God!"

Apparently nothing happened--only the machine without warning buckled up
and broke two thousand feet in the air, a wing dropped off and a
crumpled thing, which bore no resemblance to an airplane, dropped
straight as a plummet to earth.

It fell less than a hundred yards from the aerodrome and Mr. Theodore
Mann was dead when they pulled him from the wreckage.

Blackie directed the salvage work and returned a very thoughtful man.
When Tam returned from his tour he sent for him.

"You have heard the news, I suppose?"

Tam nodded gravely.

"Now, tell me, Tam," said Blackie, "did you feel anything wrong with the
mach