The airdrome
where the squadron landed was but four hours' drive by motorcar
from the point from which Bob and Dicky had started the flight that
had ended so strangely for them. The flight commander of the Britishers
gladly sent the American lads to their own airdrome in a car, and
they arrived at dinner-time. When they walked into the headquarters'
hut they had a welcome indeed, and half an hour later when they were
allowed to join their comrades in the mess building, there was a
scene that none of the Brighton boys could ever forget. Feeling ran
too deep to make any of the fellows try to hide wet eyes, and lumps
in the throat made handclasps all the more firm.
Bob and Dicky were anxious to know how the rest had fared during their
absence, but not a word would anyone of the others say until the two
returned heroes of the mess had gone over their story in detail.
As the boys finished the recital of their adventures Joe Little
expressed the universal feeling in the hearts of every one of the
Brighton boys when he turned to Bob and Dicky, and putting a hand
on a shoulder of each, said soberly: "Fellows, if two of us can get
out of a hole like that and get back safe and sound, we can rest
mighty secure in the sort of Providence that is looking after us.
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