Tom?" asked Jack, as they turned back toward the hangars where they had their headquarters with others of their companions in the Lafayette Escadrille and with some of the French bird-men.
"I don't know what they have on for us. We'll have to wait until the orders come in. I was wondering if we would have time to go and see if there's any mail for us."
"I think so. Let's go ask the captain."
They had, of course, reported officially when they came on duty, and now they went again to their commanding officer, to ask if they might go a short distance to the rear, where an improvised post-office had been set up for the flying men.
"Certainly, messieurs," replied the French captain, when Tom proffered the request for himself and his chum. "Go, by all means." He spoke in French, a good mastery of which had been acquired by our heroes since their advent into the great war. "Your orders have not yet arrived, but hold yourselves in readiness. Fritz is doubtless smarting under the dose we gave him last night, and he may retaliate. There is a rumor that we may go after some of his sausages, and I may need you for that."
"Does he mean our rations have gone short, and that we'll have to go collecting bolognas?"
