The Brighton Boys with the Flying Corps | Page 2

ever at the back of his nimble tongue.
Breakfast went slowly for Jimmy that morning when once he had
finished and sat waiting for his parents. Mr. Hill was scanning the back
page of the paper in deep concentration. Again the big black letters
stared out at Jimmy. "The war will be won in the air." Jimmy knew
well enough what that meant, or at least he had a very fair idea of its

meaning. But he had sat still and quiet for a long time, it seemed to him.
Finally his patience snapped.
"Father," he queried, "how will the war be won in the air?"
"It won't," was his father's abrupt reply. Silence again reigned, and Mrs.
Hill glanced at her boy and smiled. Encouraged, Jimmy returned to the
charge.
"Then why does the paper say it will?"
"For want of something else to say," replied Mr. Hill. "The airships and
flying machines will play their part, of course, and it will be a big part,
too. The real winning of the war must be done on the ground, however,
after all. One thing this war has shown very clearly. No one arm is
all-powerful or all necessary in itself alone. Every branch of the service
of war must co-operate with another, if not with all the others. It is a
regular business, this war game. I have read enough to see that. It is
team-work that counts most in the big movements, and I expect that it
is team-work that counts most all the way through, in the detailed work
as well."
Team-work! That had a familiar ring to Jimmy. Team-work was what
the football coach had forever pumped into his young pupils.
Team-work! Yes, Jimmy knew what that meant.
"I can give you a bit of news, Jimmy," added Mr. Hill. "If you are so
interested in the war in the air you will be glad to hear that the old
Frisbie place a few miles out west of the town is to be turned into an
airdrome---a place where the flying men are to be taught to fly. I expect
before the war is over we will be so accustomed to seeing aircraft
above us that we will not take the trouble to look upward to see one
when it passes."
Jimmy's heart gave a great leap, and then seemed to stand still. Only
once, at the State Fair, had he seen a man fly. It had so touched his
imagination that the boy had scoured the papers and books in the public
library ever since for something fresh to read on the subject of aviation.

As a result Jimmy had quite a workable knowledge of what an
aeroplane really was and the sort of work the flying men were called
upon to do at the front.
The Brighton boys were all keen on flying. What boys are not? Their
interest had been stimulated particularly, however, by the news, the
year before, that Harry Corwin's big brother Will, an old Brighton boy
of years past, had gone to France with the American flying squadron
attached to the French Army in the field. True, Will was only a novice
and the latest news of him from France told that he had not as yet
actually flown a machine over the German lines, but he was a tangible
something in which the interest of the schoolboys could center.
An airdrome near the town! What wonders would be worked under his
very eyes, thought Jimmy. Flying was a thing that no one could hide
behind a tall fence. Besides, there were no high fences around the
Frisbie place. Well Jimmy knew it. Its broad acres and wide open
spaces were well known to every boy at Brighton Academy, for within
its boundaries was the finest hill for coasting that could be found for
miles. In winter-time, when the hillsides were deep with snow, Frisbie's
slope saw some of the merriest coasting parties that ever felt the
exhilaration of the sudden dash downward as the bright runners
skimmed the hard, frosty surface. The long, level expanse of meadow
that had to be crossed before the hill was reached from the Frisbie
mansion would be an ideal place for an airdrome. Even Jimmy knew
enough about airdromes to recognize that. He waited a moment at the
table to take in fully the momentous fact that their own little town was
to be a center of activity with regard to aviation.
Then he dashed out to spread the news among his schoolfellows. His
particular chums were, like himself, boys whose homes were in the
town. Shut out from the dormitory life, they had grouped themselves
together, in no spirit of exclusiveness, but merely as good fellows who,
although they appreciated the love and kindness