car that was to take them to their new home.

"I'm not sorry saying good-by to those bloated balloons," Allison said
as he looked up toward the south.

"I'm glad I'm leaving. It will save me punching a fellow officer in the
jaw," Stan said grimly.

"There won't be anything excitin' goin' on over there," O'Malley said
sourly.

"They may have some other kind of pie." Allison grinned.

An eager light came into O'Malley's eye. "Sure, and that's a thought
worth rememberin'," he muttered.

The mess at Croydon was a large room and had a phonograph as well as a
console radio. There was a nice assortment of old but comfortable chairs
and lounges, and there was a counter where food and drinks were served.
The three members of Red Flight arrived at the mess about the same time.

O'Malley saw the counter at once and his eyes lighted eagerly. Back of
the counter were shelves and on one of the shelves sat a half-dozen
pies. A Wing Commander and a Squadron Leader were leaning against the
center of the counter. Allison was for barging on past without
disturbing the superior officers, but O'Malley had his eyes on the pie
shelf.

"Shove in, me hearties, the treat's on Mrs. O'Malley's son."

O'Malley shoved in beside the Wing Commander with Stan and Allison
facing him.

"Tea," Allison ordered.

"Coffee, black," Stan said.

"Pie." O'Malley said it hungerly.

The corporal behind the pie counter fixed Allison's pot of tea and
poured Stan's coffee, then he turned to O'Malley.

"What kind of pie, sir?"

For a moment O'Malley was struck dumb over his great good luck. This
mess had a choice of pie.

"Apple," he said hopefully.

The corporal set a brown crusted pie on the counter and poised a knife
over it. O'Malley reached over and took the knife. He proceeded to cut
the pie four ways.

"But I say, sir, we don't cut pies that way. It's against regulations,
sir." The corporal was plainly flustered.

"Indaid?" O'Malley said. "An' could ye put down the whole pie in me chit
book?"

"Of course, sir, but really if you let me cut it, sir, it wouldn't be
ruined and you'll pay for only the portion you eat."

"Ah," O'Malley said and slid a quarter of the pie out of the tin and
into his big hand. The corporal watched with fascination as the slab
disappeared.

The Wing Commander was talking and the three junior officers could not
avoid overhearing him.

"The Messerschmitt One-Tens coming over lately have a new gun. We'd like