But he is just as nice to fellows who haven't
had a chance like that."
Out of the crowd two more figures in Air Force uniform came, charging at
Bob with outstretched hands.
"By Jove, old chap! What luck to meet you!"
They shook hands tumultuously, and Bob made them known to
Cecilia--comrades he had not seen for months, but with whom he had
shared many strange experiences in the years of war. They fell into
quick talk, full of the queer jargon of the air. The newcomers, it
appeared, had been with the army of occupation in Germany; there seemed
a thousand things they urgently desired to tell Bob within the next
few minutes. One turned to Cecilia, presently, with a laughing
interpretation of some highly technical bit of slang.
"Oh, you needn't bother to translate to Tommy," Bob said. "She knows all
about it."
The other boys suddenly gave her all their attention.
"Are you Tommy? But we know you awfully well."
"Me?" Cecilia turned pink.
"Rather. We used to hear your letters."
The pink deepened to a fine scarlet.
"Bob!" said his sister reproachfully. "You really shouldn't."
"Oh, don't say that," said the taller boy, by name Harrison. "They were
a godsend--there used to be jolly little to laugh about, pretty often,
and your letters made us all yell. Didn't they, Billy?"
"They did," said Billy, who was small and curly-haired--and incidentally
a captain, with a little row of medal ribbons.
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