"There's the ward-room, sir," replied a girl in the uniform of the W.R.N.S. "The steward will arrange for dinner and quarters." The ward-room was a wood-lined but devoid of almost every comfort. Floor and walls were bare, except, in the case of the walls, for a few technical prints of sea-planes and flying-boats. In one corner was a table piled high with leather coats, helmets, gloves, and other garments affected by airmen. A fire burned dully in a large grate, round which were seated, shoulder to shoulder, half a dozen young "quirks". They greeted Daventry with supercilious glances; then, having surveyed him in stony silence, they resumed their conversation in loud tones, apparently with the idea of impressing the new arrival with their importance and familiarity with life in town. "Cubs--utter outsiders," thought Derek. "And what a bear-garden this mess is." Chilled both mentally and physically, Daventry went out, preferring to pace the bleak parade-ground until dinner was served to remaining in such inhospitable company. Dinner over, payment was promptly demanded--another difference compared with the way they ran things at Sableridge, where any strange officer who happens to blow into the mess is given hospitality and never charged for his entertainment. "I've secured a room for you in the new building, sir," announced the steward. "There'll be a car ready to take you up in twenty minutes." Derek spent the time in revisiting his men. They were none too happy, although making the best of things. There were abundant evidences that Wagshot was what is known as a "Mouldy Station", but worse was to follow. Up rattled the car; Derek took his seat, and off the ramshackle vehicle went. It may have been owing to the state of the road, but the jolting of the car was worse than any he had experienced in France. Over narrow-gauge railway lines, sometimes grinding on shingle, at others sinking in sand and mud, the car held on its way. The road was narrow, with the sea on either side, for Wagshot Air Station is built on a natural peninsula of which the isthmus is long, narrow, and rugged. The shore was littered with the skeletons of burned sea-planes and flying-boats, the gaunt framework of which stood out clearly against the misty sky. Presently the car gained the mainland, swung round several sharp corners, and pulled up outside the quarters known as the New Buildings. An orderly conducted Derek to his temporary quarters, which were well termed "New", for they were still in the builders' hands. After traversing several hundred yards of corridors that looked like those of a prison, with dozens of doors exactly alike, his guide stopped, produced a key, and threw open the portal of the "cabin".