At its conclusion the stern-faced lieutenant, with a suspicion of a smile, exclaimed:
“You have all been found not guilty, and, in accordance with that fact, Messieurs Gilbert and Hamlin, I sentence you to shake hands and forget whatever differences may have existed between you. Human nature is fallible, and, had the case been reversed, you, Monsieur Hamlin, would have acted in a precisely similar manner to that of Monsieur Gilbert. Let me take this occasion to thank and compliment you for the noble work which you have been doing in the cause of humanity and justice.”
The two young aviators nodded, in recognition, and each, in turn, thanked the lieutenant.
Then, without a remaining trace of animosity, they clasped each other’s hands.
And in this happy fashion ended the case of Hamlin and the peasant, which was a nine-days’ wonder in the escadrille.
But, though it was ended, the conversation about it by no means came to such an abrupt termination. The principals came in for many bantering remarks, and had to stand a great deal of good-natured chaffing. Of course Bobby Dunlap was the principal victim.
“I say, Peur Jamais,” laughed George, “can you now almost hear the commander saying ‘My brave and loyal friends, in the name of my countrymen, I thank you’?”
“Joke if you like,” grinned Bobby, good-naturedly. “Anyway, I made a few truthful predictions.”
“How?”
“I said it wasn’t going to be a laughing matter to some one.”