"It's there yet. At least, it was still there at one o'clock." Bob's voice quivered with amusement. His face betrayed a lively curiosity, which was plainly reflected on the features of his companions. To suddenly come upon an aeroplane taking a rest in a hollow and presided over by a couple of youngsters, so identical in every respect, even to a wide, good-natured grin, was adventure, to say the least. CHAPTER XV THE TWINKLE TWINS Unable to restrain his own wonder, Jimmy burst forth impulsively, "Say, where did you two come from? You don't belong around here, do you? That's the first plane I've seen since we struck Camp Sterling and said 'I do.'" "We live about thirty-five miles from here, out in the country. We're the Twinkleton Twins," came the smiling answer. "That's no joke. The name, I mean." He had noted Jimmy's involuntary half-frown. "We're Twinkletons all right. John and Gerald. I'm John and he's Gerald. Only we get Jack and Jerry, or the Twinkle Twins, mostly. Oh, it's great to have a double!" he added drolly, his Cheshire grin reappearing. "It sure is," echoed his brother, duplicating the wide smile. "Well, Twinkle Twins, we're glad to know you." Bob held out his hand. "I'm Bob Dalton, and these two Sammys are Roger Barlow and Jimmy Blaise--Blazes, I mean." "Jimmy Blazes! That's a hot name," commented the twin who had first spoken, as he shook hands with Roger and Jimmy. "Pretty near as good as Twinkle Twins." "Pretty near," agreed Jimmy with a heartiness that bespoke lively approbation of the merry-faced strangers. His glance roving over the aeroplane, he added: "It must be great sport to sail around in that. Beats a buzz-buggy all hollow!" "That's us. We have a racer, but we haven't used it much since we got Auntie, here." "Auntie!" repeated Roger in an amused tone. Thus far he had let Bob and Jimmy do the talking. "Talk about names! That's a funny one for an aeroplane." "She's an Antoinette, but we call her Auntie 'cause it's quicker. She's a near and dear relative. See?" explained Jack Twinkleton. "She has a history, too. You'd never guess who used to own her, so I'll tell you. You've heard of Emile Voissard, haven't you?" "Well, rather!" exclaimed Bob. "He's the wonderman they call the 'Flying Terror of France.' I've seen a lot of pictures of him. He's done great work in the air for the Allies. Never expected to meet anyone who knew him, though." Bob's features registered profound admiration.