Having given a rapid report on what had taken place, Dick assisted the inventor in replacing the actuating rod. In twenty minutes the work was completed, although on testing the machine Blake discovered that owing to some slight and almost imperceptible curve in the metal the rod was nearly a quarter of an inch shorter than before.
"May make a slight difference to our trim," said Blake. "However, flight alone will prove that. You see we haven't been idle. We have been repairing the larger rents in the wings. Now, all aboard. Dick, show your protégé the way. We'll give him a dry suit and some hot grub. Poor beggar, he's half dead with hunger and exposure."
"'Arf a mo', sir," protested the man. "Before I go can I have a word with yon chap?" And he indicated the still waiting smith, who was now heartily sick of the whole business, and was wishing that he had taken his chances in letting his assistant go alone.
"Very good," agreed Blake, thinking that the Tommy wished particularly to say something to the Hun.
The man plodded stolidly towards the smith until he got within a couple of yards.
"Put your dooks up, old sport," he exclaimed, at the same time "squaring up" to the astonished German.
Having no longer an iron bar with which to assert his authority, the smith showed no great eagerness to accept the challenge. If he expected the officers to intervene he was grievously mistaken.
At length in desperation, for the Tommy was edging nearer, with grim anticipation written on his gaunt features, the Hun threw himself into a defensive position. That was all his former assistant required; for the next moment the bully was sprawling on his back in a foot of liquid mud.
Apparently the British soldier considered that old scores were wiped out, for with the utmost magnanimity he hauled the helpless smith out of the mire and set him upon his feet. This done he unconcernedly strolled back to the battleplane.
"Couldn't help it, sir," he explained apologetically. "Had to get it off my chest. Let bygones be bygones, they used to drill into my head at school. I reckon that proverb ought to be wiped off the slate after what our chaps have gone through out yonder. Penal servitude ain't in it: it's slaving with starvation chucked in."