“No! Lieutenant McGee took off before we knew what it was all about. It is madness. You can’t have–”
He stopped speaking to listen. From high above, and a little to the east, came the throbbing sound of German motors that in a few more seconds would be over the airdrome. Indeed, they might be circling now, getting their bearing and making sure of location. At that moment one of the large motor mounted searchlights near the hangar began combing the sky.
“Go tell those saps to cut that light!” Larkin 81shouted, hoping that the Major would be stampeded into action that would provide the slenderest chance for him to get the mechanics to roll a Spad to the line before Cowan could know what was happening. “Better cut it! If the others can’t find ’em, this one can’t. It will only serve as a path of light for one of those babies up there to slide down and leave you some presents you don’t want.”
Major Cowan was not one to go legging it about on errands. Besides, searchlights were provided for just such uses. Then too, he rather suspected Larkin’s motives, and Larkin realized this.
“Please let me have one of those Spads, Major,” he pleaded. “Can’t you understand–McGee and I are buddies. With two of us up there we might turn ’em back.”
“No! It is too hazardous. This squadron is still in training. We are not trained as night flyers, and certainly are not prepared to give combat to a flight of bombers.”
Larkin’s anger smashed through his long training. All rank faded from his mind.
“Not trained, eh? Major Cowan, that freckle-faced kid up there is a night flying fool–and I’m his twin brother. Get out of my way. Oh, greaseballs! Hey, you Ack Emmas! Roll out one of those Spads and–”
“Lieutenant!” Cowan barked. “You forget yourself. 82If you want to do night fighting go over to your own group and use your own plane! You forget yourself. I am still in command here!”
From aloft came the momentary stutter of two machine guns. Ah! McGee testing and warming his guns as he climbed. Oh, the fool! The precious, daring fool!