es
nine tenths of its interest for want of Mac's pungent method of
telling it.

One of the _bona-fide_ godchildren of Chance was Millard. The
circumstances leading to his engagement in the French service as a
member of the Franco-American Corps proves this. Millard was a real
human being,--he had no grammar, no polish, no razor, safety or
otherwise, but likewise no pretense, no "swank." He was _persona non
grata_ to a few, but the great majority liked him very much, although
they wondered how in the name of all that is curious he had ever
decided to join the French air service. Once he told us his history at
great length. He had been a scout in the Philippine service of the
American army. He had been a roustabout on cattle boats. He had boiled
his coffee down by the stockyards in every sizable town on every
transcontinental railroad in America. In the spring of 1916 he had
employment with a roofing company which had contracted for a job in
Richmond, Virginia, I think it was. But Richmond went "dry" in the
State elections; the roofing job fell through, owing, so Millard
insisted, to the natural and inevitable depression which follows a dry
election. Having lost his prospective employment as a roofer, what
more natural than that he should turn to this other high calling?

He was game. He tried hard and at last reached his brevet tests. Three
times he started off on triangles. No one expected to see him return,
but he surprised them every time. He could never find the towns where
he was supposed to land, so he would keep on going till his gas gave
out. Then his machine would come down of itself, and Millard would
crawl out from under the wreckage and come back by train.

"I don't know," he would say doubtfully, rubbing his eight-days'
growth of beard; "I'm seeing a lot of France, but this coming-down
business ain't what it's cracked up to be. I can swing in on the rods
of a box car with the train going hell bent for election, but I guess
I'm too old to learn to fly."

The War Office came to this opinion after Millard had smashed three
machines in three tries. Wherever he may be now, I am sure that Chance
is still ruling his destiny, and I hope, with all my heart,
benevolently.

Our final triangle was completed uneventfully. J. B.'s motor behaved
splendidly; I remembered my biograph at every stage of the journey,
and we were at home again within three hours. We did our altitude
tests and were then no longer _eleves-p