CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HOMECOMING
"It's time those scallywags of ours put in an appearance, Sparrowhawk," remarked Colonel Greyhouse of the Auldhaig Air Station. "They reported from Leith two days ago. We're short-handed, and there's a patrol needed to escort the light cruisers back."
"Quite true, sir," agreed Major Sparrowhawk. "I'll 'phone through. Because they had a joy-ride on a Q-boat is no excuse for kicking their heels around Leith and Edinburgh."
"And how's young Pyecroft?" inquired the C.O.
"Reported for duty this morning, sir," replied the second-in-command. "I asked him if he wanted sick leave and he declined."
Colonel Greyhouse raised his eyebrows in surprise. Never before had he known of a case of a junior officer refusing leave.
"Wonder what his game is?" he remarked, as he gathered his cap, gloves and stick from an untidy heap on the ante-room table.
Before the second-in-command could think of a suitable reply, the door was thrown open and the three absentees filed into the room—Captain Cumberleigh leading, followed by Lieutenants Blenkinson and Jefferson.