“What’s wrong with that?” Cowan challenged.
“The enemy isn’t so easily misled, Major,” McGee answered. “We learned that lesson on the English front, and learned it through bitter experience. If the Hun doesn’t know right now where we are going, he will know of our arrival twenty-four hours after we get there. If he fails to foresee our concentration at this point, he is thick-headed and slow-witted indeed. I, for one, do not consider him slow-witted. About the only secret we keep from him is the order that is never issued.”
135Cowan frowned. “I suppose you are right. But how does all this information leak through?”
“If I knew that, Major, I’d be too valuable to be a pursuit pilot. If we knew where the leaks were we could plug them by making use of several good firing squads.”
“You are right,” Cowan agreed, and again bent over the map, studying it with minutest care. “See here,” he said at last. “If we flew a true course from here to La Ferte we would parallel the front for several miles. Here, just south of la Chapelle, we’d be within three miles of the line. That’s pretty close for a green squadron, don’t you think?”
“We’ll be closer than that in the next few days–by exactly three miles!” Mullins answered. “Personally, I’d like to have a look-see at the jolly old Hun.”
“I don’t think you need worry, Major,” McGee offered. “It isn’t likely that we will run into any of them, and if we should we would so outnumber them that they would establish some new records in high-tailing it home.”
“You think so?” Cowan seemed so unduly disturbed over so remote a prospect that McGee found himself again doubting the Major’s courage.
“I do. Why, look at our strength! The Boche prefers to have the numerical superiority on his side.”
“But you’d take up combat formation, of course?”