stack of hot cakes which
were flanked by a double order of sausages. The lank Irisher was not in
a talkative mood. Stan grinned at Allison.

"What's eating on you? Did some civilian steal your gal?"

Allison glared at him. "We have friends over here at Croydon. The way
they run a war! You'd think somebody would wake up to a few things!"

"What sort of an assignment did we get?" Stan was sure Allison was riled
over the assignment they had been given.

"Nursing a flock of coal barges through the channel. Just big, lumbering
boats not worth as much as the coal inside them. The Jerries won't waste
a pound of T.N.T. on any of them. The only chance we'll have will be if
they try to dive bomb a destroyer tagging along." Allison jerked a plate
of bacon and eggs to him and shot a hard look at the corporal. "Black
coffee," he snapped.

"We rate better than that," Stan said.

"My dear fellow," Allison spoke with elaborate politeness. "We have a
friend over in the flight office. He got himself transferred yesterday
so as to be helpful to us."

"He couldn't be anyone I know," Stan said.

"But of course he is. He is a dear friend of yours. In fact you offered
to punch his nose for him once."

"Not Garret?" Stan stared at Allison.

"Lieutenant Arch Garret."

"How did he do it with a blackball against him?" Stan demanded.

"Pull, my dear fellow, as the Americans say. A drag somewhere. Now he's
sitting where he can retire Red Flight to a peaceful life, and if we do
bag a bandit, we'll have to have an affidavit from the King to get
credit for it."

"How about a transfer?"

"No go, he'd have a finger in that too. In fact, my dear fellow, I
applied for a transfer and got turned down, all before breakfast."

Stan looked across at O'Malley who was on his last hot cake. He was
beaming pleasantly, his eyes looking out across the room. He had paid no
attention at all to the bad news.

"You seem to like it, O'Malley," Allison growled.

"Huh?" the Irisher said with a start. Then he grinned. "'Tis a poor spot
in the channel that has no Messerschmitt One-Tens poking about in the
clouds."

"And we'll sit around warming a chair waiting for a chance at a single
or a double," Allison snapped.

"Sure, an' I can't be worried this mornin'," O'Malley said and got to
his feet.

"What's got into him?" Allison asked sourly.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you," Stan said with a wide grin.

Allison glared at him, and muttered,