The boys shook his hand and slapped him delightedly on the shoulder.
“Julius Cæsar! The Germans are going to pay dearly on account of this unexpected visit of Lieutenant William Thaw,” cried Roy Mittengale.
“Poor Baron Von Richtofen and his Red Squadron of Death!” laughed Bobby Dunlap. “Just think of all those gallons of red paint gone to waste! Drugstore, your nerve is simply grand!”
A little later, when the American lieutenant returned, the students told him about the incident, whereupon he, too, heartily congratulated Albert.
“We need young chaps like you at the front,” he declared. “The air service is of the greatest importance. It has been called the ‘Eyes of the Army.’ The game, too, is wonderfully thrilling—wonderfully interesting. Let me wish you much glory, success—and safety.”
As he spoke, he climbed into the cockpit.
Don Hale gave the propeller a whirl and, presently, amid a chorus of good-byes, the Nieuport started off. Faster and faster it moved over the field, sending streams of mud and water flying in every direction, and, at last, gaining sufficient momentum, it glided into the air.
The crowd watched the biplane until it had disappeared in the murky, moisture-laden air.
“Boys, I’ll never forget this day,” declared Drugstore. “It’s strange how little things may alter the whole course of a person’s life!”
And every one, quite as solemnly, agreed with him that it was.