There was one reassuring sign of its ownership and
occupancy. As the light winds flared out its folds, so that all who
saw might read, there floated out our own national emblem, the Stars
and Stripes.
Inside the restored hut lay Buck Bangs on a white cot, while on another
reclined the stalwart form of Lafayette Blaine. Both of these spad
pilots, though pale and looking rather the worse for wear, showed such
evidence of comfort and bodily ease that one felt sure things must have
happened to both. On the lapel of each coat was military decoration,
evidently very recently bestowed.
Blaine at last threw down the magazine he was reading and glared at his
partner, who moved with more difficulty when he changed his reclining
position for one less unbearable.
"What's got into you, Buck?" said Blaine impatiently. "Why don't you
go to sleep? Afraid you'll dream of that pretty girl what picked you
up?"
"Little good I get dreaming of her, Lafe! But wasn't it queer? Just
as soon as you got straight and I was out of danger, off they
went-bang! Durn it! They was both here yesterday while the Doe and
Sawbones were at work. My, how that girl could smile -- and exclaim!"
"That was one thing she could do, Buck." Blaine grinned. "All her
exclaiming was in good Yankee English -- real United States."
"And what have we got waiting on us now? Ugh!" Buck made a painful
face, but whether caused by his thought or by having to change his
position again was not at first apparent.
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