The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron Part 13

"Well, I'm done with the whole business right now," Bud continued firmly. "Find that it gets too much of a hold on my mind to bother with while I'm still going to school. Day and night I couldn't think of anything but monoplanes, cylinders, drag brakes, propellers, guy wires, wing-tips, levers, barographs, barometers, searchlights, volplaning and all such stuff. It was wearing on my mind, you see.

I even dreamed of flying, and came near taking a header out of my bedroom window that would have given me a broken leg, or twisted my neck so I could see both ways to Sunday. So I called it off, and threw up the sponge for keeps."

"I think you were wise to do it, if you kept worrying over things like that," Hugh told him, as they walked along together to school.

Lieutenant Fosd.i.c.k continued to show considerable interest in the young leader of the Wolf patrol. He had even asked Hugh to write to him occasionally, and promised that as opportunities arose he would reply to each and every communication. He knew that he could describe plenty of adventures, which of course always come thick and fast to the men in the Army Flying Squadron, even during times of piping peace.

When Lieutenant Denmead came back from his trip and heard that his old friend had been in the vicinity, he declared himself very much disappointed not to have had a chance to see Fosd.i.c.k again. Of course what Hugh had to relate concerning the warmth of the greeting given himself and two chums in the aviation camp pleased the Scout Master considerably, also.

"I can see that you met some exciting times up there in the woods, son," he remarked, "and so please begin right at the start and tell me everything, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem in your eyes. I'm just in the humor to enjoy a rattling tale of adventure."

He admitted, after Hugh had finished his recital, that he got it, too; for there was much to thrill the nerves of even such an experienced army man as he, in the narrative which the boy spun, every word of it absolutely true.

Winter set in soon afterwards, so that the scouts were not able to take other outings. They had to content themselves with their weekly meetings in the club rooms, but they laid out a vigorous campaign for the next season. That is always considered the proper thing for scouts to do, to map out their plans ahead of time. To tell the truth, often there is more real enjoyment in planning than in executing, for one does not get tired to death with long dusty tramps while sitting in a comfortable easy-chair and mapping out a future course!

Some of these plans would of course come to naught; but others might be expected to arrive at the stage of reality, when once the spring advanced. That new and unexpected developments were apt to step in, however, and demand a share of their attention, may be seen from the character of the next volume in this series, which bears the t.i.tle: "The Boy Scouts and the Prize Pennant."

THE END