Cowan turned from his map. “Ah, you are here. Sergeant,” he addressed the non-com in charge of the detail, “post your detail just outside the door and wait. If anyone approaches with a–ah–prisoner, admit them.”
“Yes, sir.” The detail filed out.
Cowan saw the look of question on the faces of the two pilots.
“You are wondering why they are here, eh? Well, 238they have been sent down from Corps Headquarters to take charge of a prisoner. We hope to hold a little reception here within a short time–possibly any minute now.”
“Who is to be honored, Major?” Larkin asked.
“A rather well known gentleman,” Cowan replied, tantalizingly. “Both of you are quite well acquainted with Lieutenant Siddons, I believe?”
Larkin looked at McGee in astonishment.
“No, sir,” McGee replied to Cowan, “no one in this outfit knows that fellow very well.”
“Quite right,” Cowan agreed. “Lieutenant Larkin, I recall that you lost your old R.F.C. uniform a good while back.”
“Yes, sir.”