“Well, it gave me a bad scare at first,” Pudge admitted, with charming frankness.
“But you got over that later on, eh, Pudge?”
“I did when I heard you calling me from away out somewhere in the dark,” explained the other. “Were you on the water at that time, Frank, because I figured you must be, with that old fog horn sound coming stealing in to me out of that bank of gloom?”
“Yes, that’s where we were, Pudge,” Frank told him. “Now, since you’ve explained all about your own doings, we’ll satisfy your curiosity by telling you the particulars of the trial trip of our sample seaplane. Billy, you can do the talking, if you feel equal to it, while we start a fire here, and warm up with some coffee.”
A fire was soon sending out a fair amount of heat, and the coffee pot placed upon the top of the little sheet-iron stove gave promise of good cheer to come. The aviator boys had enjoyed this social cup many times while working on the assembling of the various parts of the seaplane, so that they had all the necessary accompaniments close by to be used after the coffee had boiled.
Meanwhile Billy had been thrilling Pudge with a recital of all he and Frank had gone through since the fat chum left on his errand. He pictured the dash down the trestle when the determined German secret agents were trying to break in at the doors, so as to seize and run off with the wonderful machine. From that he went on to the adventure in the fog and darkness of the night while they lay on the water of the harbor, and the searching parties came upon them.
Then followed the early morning flight, what amazing things they had seen when passing over the trenches, the fierce bombardment to which they were subjected, the maneuvers of the hostile aircraft, the accident to the motors, and finally their triumphant return to the hangar.
Pudge drew a long breath when the story reached its conclusion.
“And to think that I wasn’t along with you when all those things happened; it’s enough to make anyone weep,” he said, looking so downcast that Frank felt it only right he should try and cheer the poor fellow up.
“Never mind, Pudge,” he told him, “you were doing your duty just as much as any of us. The fact that we made that grand trip over the firing lines doesn’t mean we have any more reason to crow than you do. You can always say that you once had the great luck to be actually taken prisoner by the Germans.”