Shortly afterwards, as Dastral and Jock were preparing to leave the aerodrome, the major came by, and, seeing that the young pilot wanted to speak to him, he said:--
"Well, what is it, Dastral?"
"Sir, now that I have gained my wings, I should like to be posted overseas as soon as possible, so as to join some active squadron with the Expeditionary Force in France. Would it be possible for you to push my request forward?"
"Humph! Rather early yet, isn't it, my boy?"
"Perhaps it is rather early, sir," replied the youth, blushing like a girl as he faced the C.O. "But I should like to take part in an air-fight before the scrapping finishes."
"We've a long way to go yet, Dastral, before it is finished. Still, as you are so keen, I will see what I can do. But it will take at least another fortnight to get the thing through. At any rate I will communicate with Wing Headquarters, and through them with the War Office. Perhaps General Henderson will accede to your request," added the major, for he well understood the lad's eagerness. He had felt it himself, and had already seen a good deal of that air-fighting of which the youth spoke, as the ribbons below his wings indicated, for he was the winner of the D.S.O. and also the Military Cross.
"Thank you, sir," and the pilot saluted again, but cast a sidelong glance at Jock, who stood a few paces away, and was already fretting in his soul lest Dastral should be sent away without him.
The major caught the glance and understood, for he turned sharply round after a few steps, and said:--
"And Jock, what about him?" smiling blandly at the lads.
"He is of age, sir, he can speak for himself," replied Dastral. "But I should like him to go overseas with me. We have done most of our training together, and we thoroughly understand each other, and I know that he's just dying to go with me, sir."