"Great work," yelled one of the seasoned men who stood beside Jimmy. "That one guy was a sure-enough peach of a birdman."
"You bet," agreed Jimmy fervently.
The clever work of the daring aviator had brought to his mind the "Flying Terror of France." He imagined that only a man like Voissard would be capable of giving such a wonderful exhibition of flying as he had just witnessed. Where was Cousin Emile now, he wondered, and would he ever see Voissard again? Perhaps he would not live long enough to learn the important information concerning the "tiger man" which Voissard had mentioned in his letter to Jimmy.
Until now Jimmy had not once thought of the "tiger man" since the march to the front had begun. The events of that memorial hike had driven the past quite out of his mind. Standing there in the trench his gray eyes grew retrospective as his mind harked back to the time he and his bunkies had boarded the Columbia. He had not realized until then how really remarkable had been his adventures since he left the United States. Living them from day to day they had not seemed so very unusual.
The greatest adventure of all yet lay ahead of him. He had still to know what it meant to be actually under fire and take part in a real, bang-up fight. His natural impatience of delay made him wish that it would come soon. Perhaps this latest attempt of the Boches to send observation planes over the American trenches meant that the enemy was getting impatient, too. He hoped so.
He had come to the trenches to fight and he felt it would be a bitter disappointment should his first tour in the trenches end without at least one opportunity to fire a shot for Uncle Sam.