"
"That's so. We'll hope for that. And now let's go on with what we
started when we saw Du Boise coming back--let's see what chance we
have of being transferred to an All American escadrille."
The boys started across the field again toward the headquarters,
and, nearing it, they saw, in a small motor car, a girl sitting
beside the military driver. She was a pretty girl, and it needed
only one glance to show that she was an American.
"Hello!" exclaimed Tom, with a low whistle. "Look who's here!"
"Do you know her?" asked Jack.
"No. Wish I did, though."
Jack glanced quickly and curiously at his chum.
"Oh, you needn't think you're the only chap that has a drag with the
girls," went on Tom. "Just because Bessie Gleason--"
"Cut it out!" exclaimed Jack. "Look, she acts as though she wanted
to speak to us."
The military chauffeur had alighted from the machine and was talking
to one of the French aviation officers. Meanwhile the girl, left to
herself, was looking about the big aviation field, with a look of
wonder, mixed with alarm and nervousness. She caught sight of Tom
and Jack, and a smile came to her face, making her, as Tom said
afterward, the prettiest picture he had seen in a long while.
"You're Americans, aren't you?" began the girl, turning frankly to
them. "I know you are! And, oh, I'm in such trouble!"
Tom stepped ahead of Jack, who was taking off his cap and bowing.
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