The red-headed chap had spoken.
“Sure thing!” laughed the new student. “What’s that, sir—my last job, you ask? Oh, driving a Red Cross ambulance near the Verdun front.”
“I must say we seem to have met a couple of real heroes,” chuckled the other. “And now, to show you that I haven’t forgotten my Fifth Avenue manners, I’ll introduce these would-be flyers, most of whom as yet haven’t risen above the grasshopper stage of the game.”
Thereupon, with many chuckles, he presented Gene Shannon, Cal Cummings, Ben Holt and Roy Mittengale, adding that his own name was Tom Dorsey.
“Glad to know you all!” declared Don Hale, heartily.
“So am I,” exclaimed George.
“Very gratifying indeed, I’m sure!” laughed Dorsey. “We all hope that later on some people about whom we are hearing a whole lot won’t be so glad to meet us.”
“Oh, you coming aces!” grinned Ben Holt.
“Hooray, hooray, for the future cannon-flying express!” chuckled Mittengale. Then, turning toward Don, he said: “I suppose that the day you didn’t run into at least a half dozen or so hair-breadth escapes must have seemed like a pretty dull one?”
“I had all the close calls I wanted,” confessed the former ambulance driver.