stared at the ceiling, his big mouth clamped shut, his
Adam's apple sliding up and down. Finally he said:

"Next time I get to take her, I can fly her like she was me own wings."

"You might as well. This job is half yours," Stan said. "Until we find
out about Allison this flight will have only two men and one ship."

"Allison's going to be right back with us. The bye wouldn't kick off
until he had had a chance to wind up this new colleen we got." O'Malley
said it grimly, as though trying to make himself believe.

"Here comes Wing Commander Farrell and I think he's looking for us,"
Stan said.

"Sure, an' 'tis the big man himself and no other. An' comin' to see us
instead of us tramping over there. Me bye, the first thing we know, the
King will be dropping in to have a spot of tea with us two intrepid
fliers." O'Malley's big mouth was spread in a wide grin.

"Don't get up, men," the Wing Commander said as he came up. He seated
himself and started in briskly. "I hear the Hawk is better than anyone
thought."

"Not better than I thought," Stan said.

"Well, better than the inspectors and test men thought. They said she
wasn't reliable."

"She is sensitive and temperamental," Stan agreed.

"She chops up a Messerschmitt and spits out the pieces like me auld
granddaddy used to whack up a box for kindlin'," O'Malley broke in.

"Fine." The Wing Commander smiled broadly. "I just dropped by to ask
you boys to stay very close to quarters. We have reports of activity at
sea and there may be quite a bit of action. I'd like to find out if this
ship is really a dive bomber."

O'Malley grinned happily and saluted the Wing Commander. He had not
taken the trouble to get to his feet. Farrell returned the salute
without so much as the twitch of a facial muscle.

"We'll be ready, sir." Stan stood at attention.

The Wing Commander walked away and Stan scowled down at his pal. "A fine
officer you are."

"Naval action, and my turn comin' up," O'Malley gloated.

An orderly called Stan to the telephone. When he returned he was
smiling.

"Allison will make it. He won't be laid up very long."

"Hooray!" O'Malley shouted and leaped into the air. He headed straight
across the room toward the counter. The corporal saw him coming and slid
an apple pie off the shelf.

CHAPTER VII

SALT WATER SPRAY

The Wing Commander seemed bent upon saving the Hendee Hawk for some
special show. For two days no call came for Stan and O