"Do I fly a Spitfire?"
The O.C. considered this for a long minute. At last he nodded. "You're too valuable a man to be shot down by stray raiders."
"I'll be on my way in an hour," Stan said as he snapped a salute.
As Stan swung out of the office he almost collided with Garret.
"Whoa there, you're in a big rush, aren't you?" Garret asked with a grin.
"Sorry," Stan grunted and was off.
As he strode across the field he got to wondering if Garret had been listening at the door. It didn't seem possible. Eavesdropping in an officer of Garret's standing would have laughed him out of the service if he had been caught. He dismissed it from his mind.
He told Allison and O'Malley about his plans and warned them not to mention his trip to anyone. Allison grinned lazily. O'Malley was excited.
"Sure, an' the war's about over," he boasted. "With me coaxing one of them sweet colleens through the skies there won't be a Jerry left in a week."
"You lugs come a-rattling when I send in the call," Stan said as he strode toward his quarters.