They turned to see Harry Leroy walking slowly toward them.
Harry Leroy it was, but wounds, illness, and imprisonment had worked a terrible change in him. He was but the ghost of his former sturdy self. Still it was their chum and the brother of Nellie Leroy, and Tom and Jack knew they had kept the promise made to the sister. They had effected the rescue which the offensive made possible.
“Hurray!” cried Tom. “It's really you then, old scout!”
“What's left of me—yes. Oh, but it's good to see the flag again!” and he pointed to the colors on the aeroplane and on the advancing banners of the infantry. “And it's good to see you again! I'd about given up, and so had most of us, when we heard the shooting and knew something was going on. But how did it happen? How did you get here, and how did you know I was here?”
“Go easy!” advised Tom with a grin. “One question at a time. Can you ride in our bus? If you can we'll take you back with us. The others will be taken care of soon, I fancy, for our boys will soon be in permanent occupation here. Will you come back with us?”
“Will I? Say, I'll come if I have to hitch on behind, like a can to a dog's tail!” cried Leroy, and, weak and ill-nourished as he was, it was evident that the sight of his former comrades had already done him much good.
So now that the position was well won by the Americans and the Allies, Tom and Jack turned their machine about, wheeled it to a good taking off place, and with Harry Leroy as a passenger, though it made the place rather crowded, they flew back over the recent battleground, and to their own aerodrome, where Harry and some other prisoners, brought through the air by other birdmen, were well taken care of.
The great battle was not yet over, for there was fighting up and down the line, and in distant sectors. But it was going well for Pershing's forces.
“And now,” remarked Harry, when he had had food and had washed and had begun to smoke, “tell me all about it.” He was in the quarters assigned to Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly, being their guest.
“Well, there isn't an awful lot to tell,” Tom said, modestly enough. “We heard you were in trouble, and came after you; that's all. How did you like your German boarding house?”