136“Yes, and in echelon, one flight above another by a margin of three thousand feet. Then, if the beggar wants to jump on that sort of buzz saw, let him come–and welcome.”
“There will be time enough to welcome him when we reach our new base–all present or accounted for,” Cowan replied. “You have no objection to flying in the top flight with me to-morrow?”
“Why, no sir. Of course not. I’ll be honored.”
“Bosh! No flattery, Lieutenant. I don’t expect it–especially from you.”
Seemingly quite exasperated, Cowan turned away, walked quickly to the window and again stood looking out into the night. Mullins winked at McGee and made a quivering motion with his hand, indicating that he thought Cowan was suffering from a case of nerves.
The Major turned from the window and stared at Mullins with a cold, but studious eye. It made the Operations officer exceedingly uncomfortable.
“You forget, Lieutenant Mullins, that a window facing a dark courtyard provides a most excellent mirror. Nerves, eh? Well, we shall see. If a commander seeks counsel, some are likely to think him a fool. If he does not, he is a fool. When I said to McGee, ‘no flattery’ I meant just that. Furthermore, I don’t mind telling both of you that I know the regard in which I am held by some–perhaps all–of 137 the members of this squadron. I even know my nickname, ‘Old Fuss-Budget’. Humph! A hard master always wins the name of ‘old’ something or other. I don’t care a hoot about that. I don’t care a hoot about the opinions of any man in this group if only the result of their training shows a balance in favor of our country. Am I right or wrong?”
McGee and Mullins were too surprised to offer reply. This was quite the longest speech Cowan had ever made in their presence; certainly it was the most frank.
“Well,” Cowan continued, “I have applied the goad whenever and wherever I thought it needed. I have been goaded in turn, and took it without whimpering. I wonder, Lieutenant,” he turned to McGee, “if you remember the report you made on that Hun you shot down over our ’drome?”
“Why–yes, sir, I do.”