The Project Gutenberg EBook of Air Service Boys in the Big Battle, by
Charles Amory Beach

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: Air Service Boys in the Big Battle

Author: Charles Amory Beach

Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6458]
Posting Date: March 23, 2009

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIR SERVICE BOYS IN THE BIG BATTLE ***

Produced by Sean Pobuda

AIR SERVICE BOYS IN THE BIG BATTLE

Or SILENCING THE BIG GUNS

By Charles Amory Beach

CHAPTER I. BAD NEWS FROM THE AIR

"Well, Tom, how's your head now?"

"How's my head? What do you mean? There's nothing the matter with
my head," and the speaker, who wore the uniform of a French aviator,
glanced up in surprise from the cot on which he was reclining in his
tent near the airdromes that stretched around a great level field, not
far from Paris.

"Oh, isn't there?" questioned Jack Parmly, with a smile. "Then I
beg your pardon for asking, my cabbage! I beg your pardon, Sergeant
Raymond!"

Tom Raymond, whose, chum had addressed him by the military title, looked
curiously at his companion, and smiled at the appellation of the term
cabbage. It was one of the many little tricks picked up by association
with their French flying comrades, of speaking to a friend by some odd,
endearing term. It might be cucumber or rose, cabbage or cart wheel--the
words mattered not, it was the meaning back of them.

"Say, is anything the matter?" went on Tom, as his chum, attired
like himself', but wearing an old blouse covered with oil and grease,
continued to smile. "What gave you the notion that my head hurt?"

"I didn't say it hurt. I only asked how it was. The swelling hasn't
begun to subside in mine yet, and I was wondering if it had in yours."

"Swelling? Subside? What in the world--"

Jack Parmly brought to a sudden termination the rapid torrent of words
from the mouth of his churn by silently pointing to a small medal
fastened to the uniform jacket of his friend. It was the coveted croix
de guerre.

"Oh, that!" exclaimed Tom.

"Nothing else, my pickled beet!" answered Jack. "Doesn't it make your
head swell up as if it would burst every time yo