CHAPTER V
THE AIR RAIDERS
Upon hearing the words uttered by the mechanic who handled the men working at their battleplane, Tom and his chum exchanged meaning looks.
"Can you make it perfectly safe again before half an hour passes?" asked the former anxiously.
"Surely," came the confident reply. "I know what's in the wind, and you'll be fit for any sort of flight when another fifteen minutes has gone by. We're on the last stay now, and I've carefully examined the motor and every other thing about the plane. Don't fear to risk your lives on my report. I'd go up myself willingly if I had the chance."
"All right, Sessions, we're willing to take your word for it," Tom assured him, and then drew his comrade aside.
Jack on his part was eager for a little talk between themselves. That staggering fact had appalled, as well as angered, him. Why should their particular plane have been selected for such treacherous work, among all the scores connected with the air service in that sector of the fighting front?
"What do you make of this thing, Tom?" he immediately demanded.
"It's an ugly bit of business, I should say," came the guarded reply.
"You mean calculated to make every one feel timid about taking any extraordinary risk—is that it?" continued Jack.