Despite all this, the meal was a great success for Isabelle, for no sooner had she joined the line than a great paw was placed on her shoulder and a big voice said:
“Hi, Isabelle! How’s things?” It was her old schoolmate, Pete Sikes, of the tanks.
“Gale!” Isabelle exclaimed, “this is Pete Sikes, the all-star player of our old high school days—you’ll like him.”
And Gale did. They ate their corned Willie, dehydrated potatoes, tomatoes and pineapple together beneath a great spreading tree that appeared to offer ample protection from any attack from the air.
“Pete,” said Isabelle, when they had finished with home town talk, “What do you know about the air battle we had today?”
“Not very much.” Pete wrinkled his brow. “I’ve been busy. Big business tonight,” he grinned, mysteriously.
“Oh!” Gale exclaimed. “No one seems to know about that fight. We saw it all from our coop up there in the rocks,—that is—nearly all. I missed the part that means the most to me. One of my friends was in the fight. He got a bomber.”
“Great!” Pete exclaimed.
“That’s not all.” Gale went on: “Three Zeroes went after him. He’d shot down two of them, but his plane had been damaged and the third Zero was after him when Jan pulled the curtain.”
“Pulled the curtain!” Isabelle exclaimed.