“You boys,” he continued, “have drawn a thirty-day furlough, and we’re all going—going home to the States in Sweet Rosy O’Grady, as soon as she’s patched up enough to make the trip. Here’s Colonel Raymond with a word you’ve been waiting for.”
Barry’s head felt queerly light, and the mention of “home” had brought a lump to his throat that would not go down. As if from a great distance he heard a strange voice speaking.
“Permission to land is herewith granted,” the Australian O.C. said. “And may all your future landings be as happy as this one, Captain Barry Blake of the Flying Fortress!”
WHITMAN
AUTHORIZED EDITIONS
NEW STORIES OF ADVENTURE