ters and big guns, as well as in other lines of fighting."
"That's so, Tom. He certainly is a wonder when it comes to inventing things. But what do you suppose his new mission is?"
"I can't quite guess. But it is for the service of the Allies."
"And you say he's on his way to Paris now?"
"He ought to be there by this time," Tom answered. "I'm going to see if I can't get permission to send a message through, and have an answer from dad. Maybe he might get out here to see us."
"Or we could go in and meet him."
"Not for a week. You know we just came back from leave, and we won't be over our tour of duty for seven days more. But I can't wait that long without some word. I'm going to see what I can find out."
Tom and Jack, like all the other American fliers, were in high favor with the French officers. In fact every aviator of the Allied nations, no matter how humble his rank, is treated by his superiors almost as an equal. There is not that line of demarcation noticed in other branches of the service. To be an aviator places one, especially in England and France, in a special class. All regard him as a hero who is taking terrible risks for the safety of the other fighters.
