“We thought you were dead,” Cowan said.
“So did I–until I woke up,” Rodd answered.
Cowan, noting the pallor of his face, pressed him into a chair. “Tell us about it,” he urged. “Were you badly hurt? What happened? Didn’t you crack up–”
Rodd lifted his good hand in protest. “One question at a time, Major. That German found my motor and it conked. I regained control just in time to level off, but not in time to miss a tree. After that I don’t know what happened. Came to, flat on my back, fifty feet away from my plane. It was burning. That’s all there is to it.”
“All there is to it!” Cowan snorted. “You’re not sending a telegram. Words won’t cost you anything. Where have you been since then?”
“Hospital. Waiting for a chance to skip out.”
“You mean–you ran away from the hospital?”
Rodd nodded.
“You are crazy, man! Why did you leave?”
“I don’t like hospitals.”