Freddy Farmer scowled darkly and lifted a warning finger.
"You seem to have forgotten something, my little American friend," he said in mock reprimand.
"Who, me?" Dave echoed. "Impossible! For even suggesting that I'd forget anything, I think I'll challenge you to a duel with cup-cakes at ten paces. But what have I forgotten, anyway?"
Freddy Farmer tapped his own chest and closed one eye.
"That I happen to be a pilot, too, though I'm serving as your observer on this show," he said. "In other words, one more insulting remark about my shooting ability and I shall be forced to dump you overboard, parachute and all, and finish this patrol alone. You think I can't?"
Dave shivered and shook in mock alarm.
"Please, kind sir, spare me such a fate!" he cried. "It's a long way down. Besides, you wouldn't want me to be court-martialed, would you, and perhaps be kicked out of the Service?"
"I fancy it would jolly well be a good thing for the Service," Freddy came right back at him. "But I'll bite. Why would you be court-martialed?"
"For losing one perfectly good Blackburn Skua monoplane fighter," Dave said gravely.
"For losing one?" Freddy echoed before he could stop himself.