ast
overcome McGee's and Larkin's joyous excitement, a sleep-shattering
motor cycle again came pop-popping to their door. The dispatch bearer
hammered lustily on the barred front door until admitted by the
sleepy-eyed, white robed, grumbling Madame Beauchamp, and then clattered
up the stairs, two steps at a time. He pounded heavily on the door of
the sleeping pilots.

McGee fumbled around on the table at the side of the bed, found the
candle stub, and as the flaring match dispelled the shadows, called,
"Come in! Don't beat the door down!"

Rawlins fairly burst into the room. "Major Cowan's compliments, sir, and
he directs you to report to the squadron at once."

"Good heavens! At this hour? What's up, Rawlins?"

Rawlins smiled expansively. "Orders for the front, sir. They're taking
down the hangar tents now, and trucks will be here in the next hour for
baggage and equipment. All the ships are to be on the line, checked and
inspected an hour before dawn. The C.O. said to make it snappy. He said
a truck would come after your luggage. It's a madhouse over at
headquarters, sir."

Both pilots sprang from the bed.

"Do you know where my orderly sleeps, Rawlins?" McGee asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Go bounce him out and send him up here, _tout suite_! Tell Major
Cowan we'll be over on the double quick. By the way, Rawlins, do you
know where we're going?"

"No, sir. Secret orders, I understand. But I don't care a whoop just so
long as it's to the front."

"Right you are. Toddle along, Rawlins. Buzz, light that other candle
over there. I can't even find my shoe by this light."

An hour later, with all personal equipment packed and ready for the
baggage truck, McGee and Larkin reported to Cowan, who was standing
outside headquarters, issuing orders with the rapidity of a machine gun.

"All set, sir," McGee said, "and thanks for the note of congratulations.
In the nick of time, wasn't it? Otherwise we would have been left
behind."

"I suppose so," the Major replied. "Fact is, I don't know your status
now, and I don't know how to dispose of your case. I called Wing and was
told that your assignment hadn't come down. The personnel of this
squadron is complete. Here's a pretty pickle! Guess I'd better pass the
buck and send you back to Wing."

McGee's face fell. For once words failed him. He turned his eyes on
Larkin, appealingly.

Larkin entered the breach manfully. "Major Cowan," he began, "when we
made application to