"Made in Germany, colonel," laughed one of the veterans, "no matter where you put them."
From the business end of the trench a hot meal was speedily produced for the visitors, adding another touch of surprise for Billy.
"Well, my lad, we must report to the general," announced the colonel, who had politely denied the petition of the trench veterans that he try one of their couches for the night.
"You don't mind an air trip in the dark, do you?" inquired the colonel.
"Not a bit," assured Billy, "I've made many a one."
It was quite pitch black when the colonel and Billy rode back across the plain, but the horse was sure-footed, and the way was fitfully lighted by the occasional upshoot of rockets that left a long green stream of stars, revealing the now silent battlefield and its dreadful record of uncounted dead.
While Billy flourished an electric torch in giving the biplane a careful look over, the colonel bestowed a playful slap on the flank of the faithful horse, which sent the animal trotting up the road.
"He knows his number and troop as well as I do, and will go as straight as a die to the feed trough," asserted the colonel.
"Are you ready, boy?"
"Trim as a ship, colonel."