"Well, thank goodness for that!" Dave breathed and looked at Freddy. "I guess it doesn't mean bombers for you yet, pal. Thanks, Sergeant. We're on our way right now. Pull in your stomach, Freddy, and let's go."
"Some day I'll die laughing at your silly jokes!" the English youth growled, but he impulsively pulled in his stomach and pushed back his shoulders as he dropped into step.
A couple of minutes later they entered the Squadron Office. Markham was there, and so were Colonel Trevor, and Group Captain Ball. They started to salute but Group Captain Ball stopped them with a wave of his hand.
"We'll forget formality for the time being, Gentlemen," he said with a smile. "Make yourselves comfortable. We want to talk to you two for a spell. There, that's the idea."
The Group Captain nodded as the two boys seated themselves, then glanced at Markham.
"You want me to do the talking, Markham, or would you rather?" he asked.
The Squadron Leader instantly shook his head.
"You, of course, sir," he said. "You naturally know all the details better than I do."
"As you wish, then," Group Captain Ball grunted, and looked back at Dave and Freddy. "Well, what with the Balkans already in this blasted war, and a Nazi attack on Russia almost certain within a month or so, old Adolf is going to need all the troops he can get."
The Air Ministry official stopped short and smiled at the surprised look on the boys' faces. He chuckled, and nodded.