"It is the fortune of war," was the aviator's grave comment when Jimmy had finished. "We learn in time to accept all in that spirit. I, too, have lost many valued and loyal friends at the front. I share your sorrow for this brave comrade. Yet I am happy that none other of you has met with misfortune.
"It is purely by chance that I found you," he continued. "I spent the night over the Allemand lines. Naturally, my plane has received rough treatment. It was necessary for me to come down and make the repairs. I have yet some distance to go, and my bird's wings need the attention."
"Can we do anything to help you, sir?" was Jimmy's prompt inquiry.
"Merci, but no. My plane needs but a few touches here and there, which only myself can give and hurriedly. I have the important information gleaned, which I must impart quickly to those who wait for it. For how long shall you remain in billet?"
Voissard cast a thoughtful glance at Jimmy as he asked the question.
"Three weeks, unless we get other orders."
"That is well. Watch for me. If all goes as I hope, I shall return here to see you within the next three days. I have much to say to you."
During this conversation, the Sammies who had run out of billets and up to the aeroplane, had drawn back a little distance from it, and the quartette gathered about the aviator. The average American boy hates to "butt in." Nevertheless, many pairs of bright eyes were wistfully watching the trim Nieuport, and the favored four who appeared to be on such intimate terms with its pilot.
Noting this, Jimmy was seized with a kindly inspiration.