Finally I was able to light a cigaret, and as its soothing flavor was beginning to permeate the stuffy air of the tool room my dear friend Marston rose on his hind legs and peered at me through one good eye which, it appeared to me, needed the ministrations of some good raw steak to save him from becoming temporarily blind. “Now that I’ve relieved myself, I feel better,” I informed him. “Didn’t think you had it in you,” he barked, his ordinarily husky voice deeper than usual. “I thought you lacked a punch--in anything.” “Your opinion of me was low in all particulars,” I grinned. “As for me, I thought that when your bars were gone you had nothing left.” “Well, you licked me,” he stated, hate peering forth from the one slit in his face which remained of two eyes. “And I s’pose this is just the start of what I’ll go through. You----” “Shut up,----you!” I snapped. “That’s about the last time you’ll insinuate that I’m as low as you were when you had a commission, or I’ll put you out of your misery _pronto_ and all you’ll have to worry about is whether you fry in ---- or merely stew.” He said nothing, but applied a dirty handkerchief tenderly to his nose. The wrinkles between his black, bushy brows were deeper than ever, and his face was so sullen it was black. “One thing more I desire to converse with you about, Marston,” I went on after my temper was in control. “Captain Lawton implied to me that you were a good mechanic.” “You’re ---- right, I’m a good mechanic.” “My job is to ferry Martin Bombers from Cleveland to Langham for the next month. Want to be my mechanic? I’m not asking you for the pleasure of your company, you may be sure, but you’re supposed to be the best motor man in the squadron.” “And being under you or with you isn’t no pleasant prospect for me,” he told me, stubborn and unafraid. “But I go where I’m ordered.” “You’ll make some extra dough out of your travel allowance, you may enjoy the trip, and there are about two hundred mechanics on the field would give their shirts to go,” I told him. “Likewise, I hate to take you worse than poison. But you’re the best man, and you can just paste it in your hat that you’re having the first illustration of the fact that you’ll get a square deal around here when I say that you’ll be ordered to go along.” He grunted, squinting up at me balefully. “Another thing, Marston,” I told him as I got up to go. “We’ve laid aside rank and that stuff for a while. But remember, now that our personal affairs are adjusted, that I’m wearing a commission and you’re a sergeant. Say ‘sir’ to me, Marston, and don’t ever presume to forget that you’re a soldier and I’m an officer.” He laughed--a raucous series of cachinnations which had often impinged against my eardrums unpleasantly. “You talkin’ to me about bein’ a soldier. Very well, sir!” “Our travel orders should be out in a day or two. Be ready.” “Yes, sir.”