tory to
returning to the aerodrome when the girl came running across the field
to say good-by.

"I can't tell you just how I feel--how grateful I am. My brother says
you saved his life. He was in that other machine, you know."

"A' knew it," said Tam. "'Twas a graund adventure, like you read aboot
in books--'twas ma low, theatrical mind that wanted it so. Good-by,
young lady."

"Till to-morrow--don't forget you're lunching with me at the Cafe St.
Pierre."

Tam smiled gravely. "A'm afraid ye'll have to postpone that lunch," he
said, "till--"

"Till to-morrow," she interrupted firmly, and Tam flew back to the
aerodrome without explaining.

He was feeling the reaction of the morning's thrill, and when he landed
he had no answer to make to the congratulations which were poured upon
him.

He made his way to his hut. His batman was cleaning a pair of boots and
stood stiffly as Tam entered.

"That'll do, Angus, ye may go," he said, and then saw the folded coat
upon his bed. "Ah, ye got it back, did ye--well, A'll no' be needin'
it."

He picked up the coat and frowned.

"This is no' mine, Angus."

"Your tunic is in the box, sir--this is the one the officers had made
for you. They wanted your other tunic for the measurements."

Tam looked at the man.

"Yon's an officer's tunic, Angus," he said; "an' why do ye say 'sir' to
me?"

Angus beamed and saluted with a flourish.

"It's in General Orders this morning, sir--you've got a commission, an'
Mr. Brandspeth says that the mess will be expectin' you to lunch at
one-thirty."

Tam sat down on the bed, biting his lip.

"Get oot, Angus," he said huskily, "an'--stay you! Ye'll find a seegair
in the box under the bed--an', Angus, A'm lunchin' oot to-morrow."

CHAPTER IX

A REPRISAL RAID

There are certain animals famous to every member of the British
Expeditionary Force.

There is a Welsh regiment's goat which ate up the plan of attack issued
by a brigadier-general, who bore a striking resemblance to somebody who
was not Napoleon, thus saving the Welsh regiment from annihilation and
reproach. There is the dog of the Middlesex regiment, who always bit
staff-officers and was fourteen times condemned to death by elderly and
irascible colonels, and fourteen times rescued by his devoted comrades.
There is the Canadians' tame chicken, who sat waiting for nine-inch
shells to fall, and then scratched over the ground they had disturbed;
and there is last, bu