“I’ll think about it,” laughed the boy. He deposited several pieces of silver in the palm of the hand held toward him, then began the task of getting his luggage off the vehicle. By the time this was done the sentry had opened the great iron gate.
With a hasty good-bye, the boys turned toward the soldier and producing several important-looking papers handed them to him.
And while the proceeding was underway this series of comments passed between five young men, attired in the horizon blue uniform of the French poilu, who were strolling inside the great enclosure not far away:
“Well, well! What have we here?”
“No doubt a couple more pilots.”
“But, if I’m not mistaken, one of them is actually wearing the stars and wings insignia of the air service on his uniform. He’s a corporal.”
“So he is! Such a young chap, too!—looks, for all the world, like a high-school boy on his way home from the place of demerit marks and ciphers.”
“Let’s give ’em the grand quiz.”
It took the sentry only an instant to scan the papers and nod his head in approval, and another instant for the newcomers to gather up their possessions and head for the group of five.
“Step up and give your names, boys.” The speaker was a tall, angular youth with bushy red hair and twinkling blue eyes.