"We can fly French or British planes," remarked Tom.

And, as my old readers know, the air service boys had had experience
with a number of different models.

"We can fly a Gotha if we have to," said Jack. "One came down back
of our lines last month, and we patched it up and flew it for
practice."

"I hope you can get some more of that practice," said the commanding
officer with a smile.

"But, now that you're here, I'll swear you in and see what the
orders are regarding you. I'm afraid there won't be much fighting
for you at first--that is strictly as Americans. I understand our
air front, if I may use that term, will have to grow out of a
nucleus of French and English fighters."

"That's all right, as long as we get the right start," commented
Tom.

It was necessary to swear the boys into the service of the United
States, even though they were natives of it; since, on entering the
Lafayette Escadrille, they had been obliged to swear allegiance to
France. But this was a matter of routine where the Allies were
concerned, and soon Tom and Jack were back again where they longed
to be--enrolled among the distinctive fighters of their own country.

They were assigned to barracks, and found themselves among some