They both secretly became a trifle sick at heart and felt a heavy lump in their stomachs as they heard the shrill blast of the ambulance below and, looking out, saw the men in white uniforms hurrying across the field, bearing stretchers.
The boy rose and managed to place some cushions around Panama who scoffed angrily over the unwarranted attention paid to him.
Once more at the controls, he dived down just as the fire crew reached the field and the men left the truck, carrying axes and extinguishers, ready for an immediate and impending emergency.
The ship hit the ground with a thud, taxiing along the field on one wheel in a perfect landing. Finally losing speed, the other end of the axle struck into the earth and the plane spun around in a circle without causing either injury or damage.
When the ship finally came to a sudden stop, the crowd on the field rushed forward and surrounded the two men still seated in the cockpits.
Among the group was the major, whose face plainly showed his pride and happiness over the skillful landing. He confronted the boy with a beaming, warm smile as Lefty jumped out of the ship.
Almost inarticulate in his praise, he wasted no time in freeing the silver wings from above his left breast pocket and pinning them on Lefty, saying: “Take mine, son, until I can get you a pair of your own!”
“Take mine, son, until I can get you a pair of your own!”
Ever since the first minute he had entered the Flying Corps, the boy had lived for the great day when his efforts and craftsmanship would earn him his wings. Now that the glorious moment had arrived, he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the solemn procedure, for over to the right of the plane, Elinor stood alone, her cheeks flushed crimson with pride for the man she idolized.