period there would be exciting work, with the machine gun of the
scurrying plane splashing its spray of bullets amidst the scurrying
soldiers, and the daring pilot in return taking their volleys.

Perhaps, if the boldness of the Americans caused them to take too great
chances, there might be one less plane return to its starting point that
day; and the report would be brought in that the pilot had "met his fate
in the discharge of his duty."

Wearied at length of the useless task, the Air Service Boys finally gave
it up for that afternoon. Jack in particular showed signs of keen
disappointment, for he always chafed under inaction.

"There was some talk of another raid for tonight, you remember, Tom," he
said, when they once more alighted and gave the plane over into the
charge of the hostlers; "and if it turns out that way I only hope we're
detailed to go along to guard the bombers. It's growing worse and worse
right along these days, when Fritz seems to have gotten cold feet and
refuses to accept a dare."

"I see fellows reading letters," remarked Tom suddenly. "Let's hope there
is something for us."

"It's been a long time since I heard from home," sighed Jack. "I
certainly hope everything is going on well in old Virginia these days.
There's Captain Peters waving something at us right now, Tom!"

"Letters, Jack, and a sheaf of them at that!"

"Come on, let's run!" urged the impatient one, suiting his actions to the