3
Martins, with Larkin seated at his side, hurled the car through the narrow streets and out to the airdrome with a daring recklessness known only to war-trained chauffeurs who could push a car faster without lights than most people would care to ride in 79broad daylight. But their speed was slow compared to that made by the surprised motor cycle orderly who had thundered off with McGee, and when Larkin sprang from the car as it screeched to a stop at the edge of the ’drome his ear caught the sound of a Clerget motor pounding under an advanced throttle as it lifted a plane from the ground at the far end of the dark field. An excited, buzzing group of pilots and mechanics were huddled together on the tarmac near the circus tent that served as a hangar, and still more men were emerging hastily from the humpbacked, black steel elephants that served them as quarters.
Larkin ran toward the group near the hangar entrance,
“Where’s McGee?” he shouted, knowing the answer but hoping for some word that would give the lie to what his ears told him. He knew that the plane which had now swung back over the field and was roaring directly above as it battled for altitude was none other than McGee’s balky little Camel. But no one answered him; they merely stared, as men who have just witnessed a feat of daring too noble for words, or as girls who face an impending tragedy and are too horror-stricken for action.
“Where’s McGee?” Larkin shouted again. “Don’t stand there like a bunch of yaps! You’ll be getting a setting of high explosive eggs here in a minute. 80Don’t you hear that siren? Those Boche planes? Where’s McGee, I asked you?”
Yancey stepped from the group and pointed up.
“I reckon that’s him up yonder,” he said in the slow drawl that was doubly maddening at such a moment. “He blew in here a few minutes ago like a Texas Panhandle twister, ordered the greaseballs to roll his plane on the line, and was off before she was good and warm. I reckon–”
Larkin did not wait to learn what Yancey reckoned. He dashed toward the hangar, shouting orders as he ran.
Major Cowan stepped from the hangar, barring the way. “Just a minute, Lieutenant! What is it you want?”
“What do I want? I want a plane on the line–quick!”