"I'm certain," declared the farmer's wife positively. "He came here soon after my husband drove off to town. He asked for something to eat, which I gave him. When he had finished he frightened me by demanding money. I gave him what little I had, but he insisted that my husband had more concealed about the premises. If you had not come in time, I do not know what I should have done. But whom have I got to thank? You—you," looking hesitatingly at the queer combination of aviation costume and regulation jackie uniform the lads wore, "you aren't soldiers, be you?"
"Not yet, ma'am," rejoined Herc gravely, "although at times we are tempted to soldier."
"We're soldiers' first cousins," laughed Ned.
"Oh, I see, sailors. But then, what is that contraption out there?" She pointed out of the window at the aeroplane. "I saw one like it at the county fair. Be you flying sailors?"
"I guess that's just what we are, ma'am," laughed Ned. "And that reminds me that we must be getting along. It is going on for noon."
He appeared about to go, and Herc was following his example, when the woman checked them.
"Oh, you must not go till you have told me your names," she said. "My husband would like to thank you personally for your bravery."
"As for our names, they are soon given," said Ned. "But for thanks—I guess it's the duty of Uncle Sam's sailors to do all they can to help the weak, and——"
"Land the bullies," finished Herc, with a flourish of his fist.
"Only this time it looks as if the bully had landed us," put in Ned, with a chuckle.