"Looks like a chance for you boys on the next dispatch trip to Petrograd," advised the chief; "we can illy spare more than two at a time of our regular air scouts, and here's a deal by which we have two extra machines and a pair of pilots thrown in."
With their minds clear and no cloud like the one looming ahead, the prospect of biplaning to the wonder city of Russia would have set the boys on the top floor of enthusiasm.
As it was, they could only say that they would welcome the work if it should be assigned to them.
The aviation chief had hardly taken a dozen steps in his continuing round of inspection when there was a shakeup that might have come by a combination of volcano and earthquake.
"Geeminy!" gasped Billy, clapping his hands to his ears, "somebody must have fired a ton of powder!"
A roll of drums preceded the hasty assembling of several regiments in this division, and a squadron of cavalry jingled madly down the street.
"That was a whopper, all right," exclaimed Henri, righting himself after his first little stagger from the shock, "but big noises ought not to queer us, pard. Get in and get away."
Following his chum's example, Billy was close behind the former in upward flight.
They could see that the streets below held literally surging masses of humanity, all trending in the same direction.