“Come to think of it,” replied Henri, “I do recall seeing a man like that, but it is no sure shot that it is the same one.”
“We’ll soon know, anyhow.”
Billy saw the lieutenant raise a beckoning finger, and the boys hurried to present themselves.
Facing Colonel Muller, the boys, in their ill-fitting gray tunics and rawhide boots, hardly hoped for recognition. They knew their man in an instant.
The colonel had a long memory, too, for he immediately exclaimed:
“Hello there, Boy Aviators, as Colonel ‘Mac’ called you; you’re a long way from home, I see.”
It was a matter of pride and satisfaction to the boys that the big soldier could place them, even in the disguise of an aviation camp outfit.
Turning to the lieutenant, the colonel inquired: “Have you put these youngsters through the paces yet?”
“No, colonel,” replied the lieutenant, “they have been working in the oil-can brigade chiefly, but from the way they handle the parts I suspected they were out of the apprentice class.”
“Why, they are builders as well as demonstrators,” explained the colonel. “Teach them anything about aircraft? I guess not.”