Jack felt sorry for Neal. He hoped the time would come some day when he could invite him to mess with the aviators, many of whom the other already knew to speak to.
“You see,” continued their friend, the driver, still leaking information as new subjects occurred to him, “the escadrille doesn’t hold out at their hangars exactly, but has quarters in an abandoned villa some little distance in the rear. It allows the boys a chance to enjoy some of the comforts of real living, so far as beds go, and rooms in which to sleep. I might also mention a cooking department, and a mess table at which they often entertain French officers high up in command. I don’t know but what Joffre himself, and Petain, too, have been their guests when they chanced to be near by.”
All this was deeply interesting, to Jack in particular. He was sure that the Americans were being treated royally by the French, who appreciated the work being accomplished daily by those from across the sea, and he longed to be in his place.
The bend of the road being presently reached, Tom and Jack saw a building that had once been a handsome and well-kept villa, though now showing some of the scars of war. How it chanced to have been left standing at all, with all that terrible fighting going on in the vicinity these many months, was more or less of a mystery. But the Americans had taken up their quarters under the villa roof, and made themselves at home, after the free-and-easy fashion of their kind.
Just then a car came from the opposite direction, and two young chaps in the full garb of aviators jumped out, to vanish inside the house. Jack noted that they had on fur-lined shoes and combinations, also close-fitting leather flying hoods with goggles. He knew from this that they had just come from work, and possibly may have even been aboard that airplane which he had seen drawing nearer until it dipped below the desolate brim of the treeless landscape.
“I’ll have to drop you here, boys,” said Neal, offering his hand once more to each in turn. “And say, it’s done me more good than I can tell you, just to meet you fellows away over here. Seems as if I could smell Bridgeton air once more.”
“Look us up whenever you’re passing this way, Neal,” said Tom, warmly. “We’ll always be glad to see you. And some day I’m going to try to get you an invitation to mess with us, if such things are permitted here. Don’t forget now!”
“You take it from me I won’t, boys,” said the ambulance driver, who wore the highly prized decoration under his coat, instead of pinning it where every one could see it. “I’ve got something to look forward to now besides carrying wounded poilus to the hospitals in the rear. Wish you all the good luck going; and when you write home, boys, just mention meeting me, will you? So-long, fellows!”
CHAPTER XVII
WITH THE LAFAYETTE ESCADRILLE
“At last, Jack!”