At last Dave rose to walk slowly back and forth across the well-worn floor.
It was Alice who at last spoke. “Dave. She is not gone. She’s out there somewhere. You can’t kill such a spirit as Cherry’s. You just can’t.”
“That’s right,” Dave agreed. “It can’t be done.” He meant just that. “Well,” he sighed, “I’ll be going back. Let me know about things. I—I’ll bring Brand tomorrow night if we can make it.”
“Dave, I’m sorry,” Alice said as she clasped his hand in farewell. She was thinking of him just then, he knew that. She was trying to tell him she was sorry their happy evening together had been spoiled. How sort of magnificent she was! How marvelous these English girls!
Chapter XXIII
Victory
When Dave told Brand and the young Lord the news of the sinking, true to their British tradition they had little to say. Next day, however, they appeared on the field prepared for the dawn patrol. Dave saw new, hard lines about their lips.
“I’d hate to be their enemy today,” he thought, as a thrill ran up his spine.
They had been cruising, four of them, the young Lord, Brand, The Lark, and Dave, for an hour when out of a very small cloud, for all the world as if it had been waiting there for days, came that same formation, five planes in a V-shape. One plane following the leader on the right and three on the left.
“Can I believe my eyes?” The Lark shouted into his speaker.
“You can.” The young Lord’s voice was low. “Not another word. No shouting, please. You all know how we planned it. I’ll take the talk man of the three on the left. You know the rest. Tallyho!”