Tom sat up on his bunk and looked across at Jack, who was just showing signs of returning consciousness—that is, he was getting awake. It was the morning after the successful discovery of the hidden German battery, and since this exploit the two lads had not been required to go on duty.

“What's the matter?” asked Jack, opening his eyes and looking at his chum. “Has the mail come in? Any letters?”

“No. I was just thinking,” remarked Tom, and though his eyes were fixed on Jack it was clear that his thoughts were somewhere else.

“Thinking, Tom? That's bad business. Have you seen the doctor?”

“Oh, shut off your gas!” ordered Tom. “You're side slipping. First you know you'll come down in a tail spin and I'll have to be looking for a new partner.”

“It's as serious as all that, is it?” asked Jack, as he began to dress. “Well, in that case I withdraw my observation. Go ahead. How's the visibility?”

“Low. We won't have to go up to-day, unless it clears.”

“Um. And I was counting on getting a few Huns right after breakfast. Well, what's your think about, if you really were indulging in that expensive pastime?”

“I was,” said Tom, and he got up and also proceeded to put on his clothes. “I was thinking about Harry.”

“Oh!” and Jack's voice was decidedly different. It had lost all its flippant tone. “Say, he certainly is in tough luck. I wish we could do something for him—and his sister. Doubtless you were thinking of her, too,” and a little smile curled his lips.

“Yes, I was thinking of Nellie,” conceded Tom, and he was so bold and frank about it that Jack choked back the joke that he was about to make. “I was thinking that we haven't done very much to redeem our promise.”

“But how can we?” asked Jack. “We haven't had a chance to do anything to rescue Harry. Of course I want to do that as much as you do, but how is it to be done? Can you answer me that?”

“We can't do it by just talking,” said Tom. “That's what I've been thinking about. A scheme came to me in the night, and I've been waiting to tell you about it.”

“Shoot then, my pickled blunderbuss,” returned Jack. “I'm with you to the last drop of petrol.”

“Well, I don't know that it's so much,” said Tom. “It's only that we ought to get word to Harry, somehow, that we're thinking of him and trying to plan some way of rescuing him. We ought to tell him his sister is here, too, and, at the same time we might drop him something to smoke and a cake or two of chocolate.”

Jack looked at his chum in amazement. Then he burst out with:

“Say, while you're at it why don't you send him a piano, and an automobile, too, so he can ride home when he wants to? What do you mean—getting word to him? Don't you know that the beastly Huns will hold up the mail as they please, and anything else we might send. They don't even let the Red Cross packages go through until they get good and ready. Talk about your barbarians!”

“Oh, I wasn't thinking of the mail,” replied Tom.

“No? What then?”

“Why, we know where he is held a prisoner—at least we have the name of the prison camp, and he may be there unless he's been transferred. Of course that's possible, but it's worth taking a chance on.”

“A chance on what?” asked Jack, “You haven't explained yet. What do you plan to do?”

“Fly over the place where Harry is held a prisoner and drop down a package and some letters to him,” said Tom. “Now wait until you hear it all before you say it can't be done!” he went on quickly, for Jack seemed about to interrupt.

“If Harry is held where he was first made a prisoner, it's a big place, and there are thousands of our captives there, as well as French and British. Well, where there are so many they have to have a big stockade to pen 'em in, worse luck. And dropping a bomb on a big place is easier than dropping one on a small object.”

“Say! Suffering snuffle-boxes!” cried Jack. “You don't mean to drop a bomb in Harry's prison, camp, do you? Do you think he might possibly escape in the confusion?”

“Nothing like that,” said Tom. “I mean drop a package containing some smokes, some chocolate and a letter telling him we haven't forgotten him and that we're going to try to rescue him, and for him to be on the lookout. That could be done.”

“How?”

“By us flying over the place in our speedy Spad. We needn't make a very big package, though the more of something to eat we can give him the better, for those Boches starve our men. Let's get a week off—the commanding officer will let us go. We can go to our old escadrille and make arrangements to start from there. The boys will help us all they can.”

“Oh, there's no doubt about that,” assented Jack. “They all liked Harry as much as we did. But I can't see that your scheme will succeed. It's a risky one.”

“All the more reason why it ought to succeed,” declared Tom. “It's the fellows who take chances who get by. Now let's see if we can get a few hours off to go to Paris.”

“Go to Paris? What for?”

“To see Nellie Leroy and have her write her brother a letter. It will be better to have one come direct from her than for us merely to give him news of her in one of our notes.”

“Yes,” agreed Jack, “I guess it would. And I begin to see which way the wind blows. You wish to see Nellie.”

“Oh, you make me tired!” exclaimed Tom. “All you can think of is girls! I tell you I'm doing this for Harry!”

“And I believe you, old top, and what's more, I'm with you from the word go. It's a crazy scheme and a desperate one, but for that very reason it may succeed. The only thing is that we may not get permission to carry it out.”

“Oh, I don't intend that anyone shall know what our game is,” returned Tom. “Of course the authorities would squash it in a minute. No, we'll have to keep dark about that. All we need is permission to do a little flying 'on our own,' for a while.”

“Suppose they won't let us do that?”

“Oh, I think they will, after what we did yesterday,” said Tom. “Come on, let's get ready to go to Paris.”