with a steady look.

"Chalk up a Stuka and two Messerschmitts for me. And add a note saying it was lucky for two stiffs I was along."

Stan swung around facing Garret. The gall of the man made his anger flare up and he forgot all about regulations. "Why lie about it," he said, his lips a tight line. "You didn't fire a burst, you hid in a cloud. Next time you better unlimber your guns while you're in the cloud so you'll have an alibi."

Arch Garret's dark face twisted with rage. "So you play that way, lying me out of credit."

"I checked your guns before I came in.[Pg 33] You didn't fire a shot." Stan turned upon Allison and the Squadron Commander. As he did so he realized he had made a mistake. They were silently watching, their faces expressionless.

[Pg 33]

"Well then, Canuck, if you've checked my guns I'll pull down those credits," Garret snarled.

"You said something about my lying," Stan gritted as he swung around to face the flier. His six feet and two hundred pounds of muscular body made him look like a certain Colorado U. half-back who had once been picked as All-American. Stan wouldn't have admitted it, he wouldn't have dared, but he had once been a great blocking back.

Allison stepped forward. "You come with me, Wilson," he said. "I want to tell you a few things you ought to know."

The Squadron Leader nodded to Allison. He turned upon his heel without looking at Garret. Snarling, his lips twisted with anger, Garret made off to his cubicle.

In the mess Allison sank into a chair. He grinned across at Stan, who had seated himself. "Mind if I order tea? I've drunk a[Pg 34] gallon of coffee just to be polite to you."

[Pg 34]

Stan grunted, "You don't have to be polite to me."

"I don't intend to from now on, old man." Allison's eyes were twinkling.

"What's on your mind? Regulations and such rot, I suppose." Stan was still hot under the collar.

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