print, and was confidentially
circulated in French, English, Russian, Italian, Serbian, Japanese and
Rumanian.

The pity is that a Scottish edition was not prepared in Tam's own
language; and Captain Blackie, who elaborated Tam's rough notes and
condensed into a few lines Tam's most romantic descriptions, had
suggested such an edition for very private circulation.

It would have begun somewhat like this:

"The Hoon or Gairman is a verra bonnie fichter, but he has nae
ineetiative. He squints oop in the morn an' he speers a fine machine
ower by his lines.

"'Hoot!' says he, 'yon wee feller is Scottish, A'm thinkin'--go you,
Fritz an' Hans an' Carl an' Heinrich, an' strafe the puir body.'

"'Nay,' says his oonder lootenant. 'Nein,' he says, 'ye daunt knaw what
ye're askin', Herr Lootenant.'

"'What's wrong wi' ye?' says the oberlootenant. 'Are ye Gairman heroes
or just low-doon Austreens that ye fear ain wee bairdie?'

"'Lootenant,' say they, 'yon feller is Tam o' the Scoots, the Brigand o'
the Stars!'

"'Ech!' he says. 'Gang oop, ain o' ye, an' ask the lad to coom doon an'
tak' a soop wi' us--we maun keep on the recht side o' Tam!'"

All this and more would have gone to form the preliminary chapter of the
true version of Tam's code of attack.

* * * * *

"He's a rum bird, is Tam," said Captain Blackie at breakfast; "he
brought down von Zeidlitz yesterday."

"Is von Zeidlitz down?" demanded half a dozen voices, and Blackie
nodded.

"He was a good, clean fighter," said young Carter regretfully. "When did
you hear this, sir?"

"This morning, through H. Q. Intelligence."

"Tam will be awfully bucked," said somebody. "He was complaining
yesterday that life was getting too monotonous. By the way, we ought to
drop a wreath for poor old von Zeidlitz."

"Tam will do it with pleasure," said Blackie; "he always liked von
Zeidlitz--he called him 'Fritz Fokker' ever since the day von Zeidlitz
nearly got Tam's tail down."

An officer standing by the window with his hands thrust into his pockets
called over his shoulder:

"Here comes Tam."

The thunder and splutter of the scout's engine came to them faintly as
Tam's swift little machine came skimming across the broad ground of the
aerodrome and in a few minutes Tam was walking slowly toward the office,
stripping his gloves as he went.

Blackie went out to him.

"Hello, Tam--anything exciting?"

Tam waved his hand--he never sa