"Say, what do you think I am?" cried his chum. "Where you stick, I stick! We'll both wait here for word from your father. I have a sort of feeling that he is all right."
"Well, to tell you the truth, I suppose he is. But, at the same time, I'm worried. I can't explain it, but I have a sort of sense that he is in danger."
"Not if he is in Paris, Tom. The German's haven't gotten within striking distance of that city yet, in spite of their boasts—the boasts of the Kaiser and of the Crown Prince."
"No, if dad were in Paris I'd feel that he was comparatively safe. But first I want to know that he is. And yet, even if he has put up at that house in the Rue Lafayette, where he said in his letter he'd stay, there may be some danger."
"Danger in Paris? What do you mean, Tom?"
"Well, Paris has been bombed from the air, you know."
"True, Tom. But, say! we've almost come to disregard such mild things as that from the Huns, haven't we?"
"Well, we'll just stay right on here," decided Tom. "I don't mean to say that we'll stay around our hangar all the while, but we'll keep in touch, throughout the day, with the communication headquarters. Dad may send a mes-
