tan grinned. He was glad to hear the voice of the wild Irishman. After
a battle in the sky the voice of a pal always sounds good. He bent
forward.

"The same to you, Irisher."

"And to you, Yank," came Allison's voice.

They slid in like mottled ghosts and Stan counted them. Nine Spitfires.
There would be three new faces in Moon Flight tomorrow. Three new men
for the raider shift. He toyed with the idea of slipping by and checking
Garret's guns, but gave it up. Garret would be wise enough to fire a
burst or two. And, of course, he might have misjudged the lieutenant.

In the briefing room there was little talk. The boys were grim and sour.
London had been bombed. They got little comfort out of the impressive
score they had chalked up--ten Stukas and six Messerschmitts. They knew
that if they had headed west they would have stopped the raid.

No one challenged Garret when he claimed one Stuka and a Messerschmitt.
Nobody spoke to him. They went on into the mess and flopped down to wait
for the metallic voice of the intersquadron speaker.

O'Malley lay on a bench with his feet up against the wall. Allison lay
back, his eyes closed, his thin face colorless. Stan sat staring at the
floor. He was trying to get a lot of things straight in his mind. He
couldn't honestly say Garret had led them east purposely. The main
control room must have sent them in the wrong direction, but it all
bothered him, anyway. And he knew the other boys had the same feeling.

CHAPTER IX

SPECIAL MISSION

Stan was further mystified the next day when Garret came to him in the
mess. He was smiling and very friendly.

"I have been a rotter, Wilson," he said and held out his hand. "After
all, this is pretty serious business and there isn't much place for
personal grudges and gripes."

Stan hid his surprise. He could find no words to answer Garret. He shook
hands with the Squadron Leader. Garret slapped him on the back.

"I have the toughest gang of sky-busters in the whole Royal Air Force,"
Garret said. "We'll see that no more bombs land on London."

As he walked away Stan looked after him. Now that Garret had left him he
could think of several things he might have said. Allison came up and
there was a mocking leer on his face.

"So you are teacher's pet from now on?"

"Search me, but I still don't think he likes me," Stan said.

"He's about to collar O'Malley." Allison chuckled. "I'd give a new
shilling to hear what that Iris