“Ach! Himmel!”
“Das ist ziemlich gescheit!”
Count von Herzmann shrugged his shoulders at the exclamatory surprise and compliment. “Clever? No. Merely an old custom borrowed from old wars. Operative Number Eighty-one will be held at the headquarters at Montfaucon–pending my return. If I do not return in five days, then he too will hold the stage a brief minute before a firing wall. Then, perhaps we will meet beyond the Great Line–where there are no wars or rumors of wars. Is there anything else you have to take up with me now, Herr Hauptmann?”
“Ach, yes! If you are successful, and return within your scheduled time, how will this operative, held at Montfaucon, make a satisfactory explanation to the Americans regarding his long absence?”
230Count von Herzmann snapped his fingers. “Poof! That is secondary, and a problem which I leave to the superior mind of Herr Hauptmann–and the High Command.”
231CHAPTER XII
Wheels Within Wheels
1
Near noon, the following day, a motor cycle with side car snorted to a sudden stop at the newly erected hangar tents of an American Pursuit Group, and McGee crawled stiffly from the bone-racking, muscle-twisting “bath tub.” He thanked the mud-splashed, goggled driver, adding, by way of left-handed compliment, that he had been given more thrills in the last five kilometers than he had received in all his months in the Allied Air Service.
He turned toward the hangar. There was but one ship on the field, a two-seater. By its side stood Siddons and his air mechanic. They seemed to be in close-headed conference.