"It's no' so bad," said half-a-dozen voices. "Ut's verra, verra dangerous," said Tam, shaking his head. "A'm thankitfu' A'm no' a soldier--they tried haird to make me ain, but A' said, 'Noo, laddie--gie me a job--'" _"Whoo!"_ A roar like the rush of an express train through a junction, and Tam looked around in alarm. The enemy's heavy shell struck the ground midway between him and his machine and threw up a great column of mud. "Mon!" said Tam in alarm. "A' thocht it were goin' straicht for ma wee machine." * * * * * "What happened to you, Tam?" asked the wing commander. Tam cleared his throat. "Patrollin' by order the morn," he said, "ma suspeecions were aroused by the erratic movements of a graund clood. To think, wi' Tam the Scoot, was to act. Wi'oot a thocht for his ain parrsonal safety, the gallant laddie brocht his machine to the clood i' question, caircling through its oombrageous depths. It was a fine gay sicht--aloon i' th' sky, he ventured into the air-r-lions' den. What did he see? The clood was a nest o' wee horrnets! Slippin' a bomb he dashed madly back to the ooter air-r sendin' his S. O. S. wi' baith hands--thanks to his--" He stopped and bit his lip thoughtfully. "Come, Tam!" smiled the officer, "that's a lame story for you." "Oh, ay," said Tam. "A'm no' in the recht speerit--Hoo mony did we lose?" "Mr. Lasky and Mr. Brand," said the wing commander quietly. "Puir laddies," said Tam. He sniffed. "Mr. Lasky was a bonnie lad--A'll ask ye to excuse me, Captain Thompson, sir-r. A'm no feelin' verra weel the day--ye've no a seegair aboot ye that ye wilna be wantin'?" CHAPTER II PUPPIES OF THE PACK Tam was not infallible, and the working out of his great "thochts" did not always justify the confidence which he reposed in them. His idea of an "invisible aeroplane," for example, which was to be one painted sky blue that would "hairmonise wi' the blaw skies," was not a success, nor was his scheme for the creation of artificial clouds attended by any encouraging results. But Tam's "Attack Formation for Bombing Enemy Depots" attained to the dignity of print, and was confidentially circulated in French, English, Russian, Italian, Serbian, Japanese and Rumanian. The pity is that a Scottish edition was not prepared in Tam's own language; and Captain Blackie, who elaborated Tam's rough notes and condensed into a few lines Tam's most romantic descriptions, had suggested such an edition for very private circulation. It would have begun somewhat like this: "The Hoon or Gairman is a verra bonnie fichter, but he has nae ineetiative. He squints oop in the morn an' he speers a fine machine ower by his lines. "'Hoot!' says he, 'yon wee feller is Scottish, A'm thinkin'--go you, Fritz an' Hans an' Carl an' Heinrich, an' strafe the puir body.' "'Nay,' says his oonder lootenant. 'Nein,' he says, 'ye daunt knaw what ye're askin', Herr Lootenant.'