It having been determined to regularly use both biplanes in the carrying service, the detail at last put the boys together in the same machine, with Stanislaws and Schneider manning the other.
"None of your self-made adventures," Roque admonished, when he had informed Billy and Henri of the arrangement.
The young aviators were, in duty bound, compelled to mumble some sort of assurance that they would stick closely to the task set for them.
That they failed to keep the agreement proved, strange to say, the fault of Schneider, the very man charged to keep an eye on them.
It was the third aërial expedition of the week, and following the same route, without mishap, had no longer the charm of novelty to Billy and Henri, and, it may be stated, the easy sailing had begun, also, to pall on the high-strung warrior with the sorrel hair, now sitting as observer behind the Austrian pilot.
At army headquarters, Stanislaws was giving his entire time and attention to checking up the needs of the garrison, and figuring closely on the capacity of the biplanes to carry all that he deemed absolutely necessary to take back to the fortress on this particular return journey.
The balance of the crew—the trio who were getting weary of the uneventful freight business—had nothing special to do but wait.
"No use of sitting still and twiddling our thumbs; I don't see any harm in looking around a bit."
Schneider's suggestion appealed to his companions, and they had no trouble in securing the loan of a pony each from the large number of these hardy specimens of horseflesh browsing around the camp.